Southwest High School - Roundup Yearbook (St Louis, MO)

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FIVE FEET TEN fPrize Winning Short Storyj By GLADYS LEILICH Five feet ten isn't very tall, Father always tells me. One thing you never have to worry about is being unable to see when you're in a crowd, you just look right over the top of people's heads. Some people may like that sort of thing, but as for me-this is my story: I suppose that I should begin by telling you that I go to a college for girls. Father wanted me to go to a co-ed school, but I put my foot down on that point--too bad I couldn't have put it down deeper fabout five inches, in facti. Somebody said that tall girls have poise-guess I got left out on that, too. The first day I arrived at school, I began to sum up the situation. I was to have a lovely room, it had said in the folder. When I got upstairs my three roommates had already begun to overhaul the room, I was to have the bed by the window so that I could get a lot of that nice fresh country air. As I made my bed I could feel that gust of wind blowing past me, and it didn't take much imagination to visualize the stiff necks I was to have. Yes, it was a great room. My bed proved to be a little short but, by tucking the covers in closely, I could stick my feet out between the bars. This method proved successful as long as I remained on my back. There are a lot of things you have to know to be tall successfully and I've learned quite a few. Susie, Mary, and Jane had placed the mirror at just the right height, they could get a last-minute view of the tilt of their hats by merely glancing into it, if I wanted to see myself, all I had to do was to get down on one knee. I had the ideal drawers, the bottom two. The girls promised to rub my back with liniment whenever I became stiff from bending down. The great event of the school year was a spring dance- Gosh, I could hardly wait. The boys to be invited were cadets from Norwood Military School and I could just visualize the little boys. The rumors spread around that some of the boys were six feet tall, but I don't believe in rumors-or miracles, for that matter. My only hope was that I would develop an attack of something or other. That had worked well before. Or I might say that, in response to a telegram from Father, I had to go home immedi- ately to help him care for my poor sick mother, whose only ailment was an occasional sneeze. That had worked too except that Mother felt rather strange when the girls sent a beautiful bouquet of flowers and a warm cheery note. For this particular dance, I had begun to run out of excuses. Unex- pectedly Susie informed me that she had arranged a blind date, and I knew that I Was doomed. Of course, he might find out about me ahead of time and manage to develop something himself. This had happened before, too. In spite of my hope and speculations, the fatal day arrived. The crown- ing point arrived when little Nellie down the hall asked me if she might borrow my darling blue skirt because her formal hadn't come back from the cleaners-she said she thought it might drag a little, but she'd turn up the hem so she wouldn't step on it. With her white dinner jacket it Twenty-eight