South High School - Tiger Yearbook (Minneapolis, MN)

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12 Class Book, 1904 Perkins. You don't say! He is running a baa baa shop now. Jones. That was a busy class. They remind me of bees. Perkins. Oh, that’s so! I was‘going to tell you that two hives of our bees swarmed yesterday. Jones. Did you get the “hives?” Perkins. No. I let the hives bee. Jones. Let’s see what the paper has to say (reads). Society News—I’ll see what the personals say—Hutchinson’s had a scanty supply of coal but let us not worry, a new ton went their way. Perkins. A Newton! Jones (reads). Some people say that the leaves on the trees betoken Spring, but every I Vinter retains some Autumn leaves. Haven’t vou ever heard them Russel? (Door-bell rings. Enter Sarah Punkins and Myrandy Saunders.) Mrs. Saunders. Why, it’s outrageous how much they are charging for postage stamps. Two cents apiece!—and they won’t even give you trading stamps with them. Mrs. Perkins. They’re forever trying to make a fortune off us country folk. Mrs. Saunders. I have a mind not to buy one. It would serve him right. Hut this letter has to go off today—Oh, dear! (they go up to the counter). Perkins. Yes; the weather’s been clearin’ up some lately, but you don’t know when to depend on it. We may get a cold wave on commencement dav. (Door-bell rings. Enter Timothy Paystreak, long reported lost on the trail. Looks around bewildered.) Paystreak. Is this Nimpkin’s cross-corners store? Simpkins. Yes, sir. Is there anything I can do for you? Mrs. Saunders. Wal, land sakes! ef it ain’t Timothy Paystreak who went up to the Klondike! Paystreak. Hello, Myrandy Saunders and Sarah Punkins, and Hiram Jones and Si Perkins. How be ye all? Mrs. Punkins. Well, ef it ain’t Timothy Paystreak himself! How did you get down here? Paystreak. I came down on the sixty-mile limited. It’s the

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CI a s s Boo k. 1904 11 W hy, we’re even represented at that big hotel at the lake. After aimlessly wandering around the country for some time (for her health) Blanche Haverstock was sought out for the position of superintendent—of the dish-washers. Say, Jones, did you know that Earnest Crew was up at the insane asylum? Jones. No; how does that come about? He never studied at school that I know of. Perkins. Xo: it wasn’t that. He worked so industriously down in manual training that they gave him the position of instructor in that department at the school for the feeble-minded. Jones. W ell, what’s become of Jim Bowman, then ? I haven’t heard anything about him. Perkins. He used to study his English lit. I le is one of Crew’s pupils. Jones. So St. Peter took them in ! Perkins. And since the real thing has disappeared, Kixmoeller and Stromme have been faking as the Siamese twins. They are all tied up with ropes, you know. Jones. They were bound to be together, weren’t they? Perkins. You remember how dramatically inclined Myrtle Pendergrass and Alice W inter used to be? Jones. Yes. W hat are they doing now ? Perkins. They are starring in the great melodrama “Pair o’ Dice Lost.” Martin Hovde takes the part of Timid Tim, the villain, in the same play. Jones. I hear that Harry Hoover is proprietor of those new bachelor apartments down on Park. They say that many prominent men are staying there. Perkins. Yes, even W illiam W’ingreene, that gentleman of leisure and model of fashion, has taken up his residence there. Jones. That reminds me. Can you figure out how W illis Xevvton made such a large stake with that enormous appetite of his. They call people who arc always reading, book-worms. I guess lie must have been a grub-worm. Perkins. Folks say that suckers bite on grub-worms. Jones. You remember Bennie Zimmerman—his head of wool always reminded me of a sheep.

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Class Book, 1904 3 first time I’ve hit the trail in kyers. Whew, how we went! Have you ever been in a limited express when it’s going around the curve at sixty miles per? Perkins. Yes; I was once, and I haven’t got over it yet. I don’t mean over the train—I got thru that, though it took me a long time. I was trying to get into the observation car. I think the car 1 was in must have been an .observation car too, from the observations I was forced to make. They weren’t astronomical but I saw a great many stars anyway and I think I saw the moon —right in broad daylight too! I saw it with a see-saw that I got from the train. But I only gave it a passing notice (I was too well trained at the time to stare. Well, when I left my seat (I think it's a good plan to leave what you can’t take with you) the train gave a big lurch and I landed right in the lap of the man opposite. He thought I was a Russian, but I told him I was a Laplander. I guess he believed me, all right. He told me that three other men from the same place were on the train. It reminded me of a race-track —four Laps to the mile. And I was just starting on my second lap. I lit four seats back on the other side of the aisle. This man told me I was not too light. I said I couldn’t help it, the railroad company made me light. He said he didn’t notice it, and then I felt him. Now. what do you think? I went up into the air a human being and lit—a cigar, and that’s no pipe dream. The next man I sat on said he wished I were a little lighter. I think lie must have had on regular gun-boats (like George Johnson’s). You know, they use lighters to unload gun-boats with. I knew I’d won the race, because I was ahead at every lap (I did all of the beating). I had two watches besides my own, so I knew I’d made good time. 1 was my own time-keeper. I didn’t keep those other two men’s time, tho, the pawn-broker kept theirs! Just as I was about to step out of the door, the brakeman entered and I landed on his toes with both feet. I guess I made quite a hit with that brakeman. Anyway he asked me what I took him for. I told him I thought he was the car-pet. He said his name was Matt but I needn’t take him for a door-mat. He