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

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Well, uh, he ain't a-feelin' so good, Joef' Oh, that's too bad. Joe helped himself again to the blueberries. His bluish tongue grew bluer as spoonful after spoonful made its way to his mouth. Sate busied herself cleaning the chicken for the big dinner at noon after the program. Now run on upstairs and put on thet clean shirtg don't fergit yer shoes, after blackenin, 'em so good. I darned a pair 0' yer pa's socks fer ya. They're inside yer shoes. A few minutes later, coming down the steps three at a time, he paused in front of Sate for final inspection. 'Tell Pa that I'll be watchin' fer him 'n you. An' by the way, you'd better start pretty soon. Uh, Joe . . . I got somethin' tuh tell ya. Yeah, Ma? What is it ? Yer pa kainit come tuh the program, J oey. At last the heartbreaking news was out. Mal Pap kain't come ? Little Joey stared at her, limp, incredulous. Well, ya see, Son, Chad Olliver made some corn-likker, an' o' course . . . Oh l said Joe in a small, strained voice, turning, he walked out of the cabin and down the road toward the schoolhouse. Dismayed, disappointed, his world was in ruins. Sate, turning on her heel, strode rapidly into the room where Jed, still sound asleep, lay sprawled on the bed, seizing his shoulder roughly, she shook him awake. Oh, it's you! Why don't 'cha le' me sleep it off, Sate? Now stop botherin' me. Sate shouted, Jed, Jed Crocker! Git up this here minute! Today's Joey's program. He's goin' tuh say his piece. He wants ya tuh be there, Jed. But Pa had gone back to sleep. She marched out of the room and into the kitchen, where she appeased her anger somewhat by throwing the pans onto their hooks and nails. The clatter and din was deafening, but Jed didn't wake up. Throwing on her hat, she marched down the road to the schoolhouse, without a backward glance at Jed, still sprawled on the bed. After almost fifteen minutes of complete silence, Jed awoke. He sat up on the bed and ran his fingers through his tangled hair. He glanced at the disorder around him and gradually his thoughts cleared. Joe was going to say a piece and he wanted his pa to be there. He staggered to his feet and, grabbing his coat, started down the road. The program was almost over. Joe Crocker, being the oldest, was the last performer. His teacher nodded for him to get up. He walked to the front of the stage. Suddenly the door creaked and shuddered, and Jed tip-toed in and sat down. Joe straightened up, and his eyes shone. He began his poem confidently. He knew it perfectly and while he said it, his eyes never left his pa's face, he didn't falter once. When he had fin- ished, he turned and walked almost mechanically to his seat. The applause was gratifying, but he heard none of it. He could only see Jed sitting there, misty-eyed, calm, his arms folded. Sate hurried home to prepare the big dinner in celebration of Joe's big day. But Jed and Joey walked slowly home, chatting companionably. At last, reaching a particularly beautiful spot, Jed stopped, and laying his hand heavily on Joeis shoulder, he said, Joe, I hear there's a new settle- ment-school down in the valley. A lot o' boys and girls yore age go there fer a couple o' months in thuh winter. Ya seem tuh have a cravin' fer books. Howid ya like tuh go down there this winter an' git some more book-larnin' ? Joe looked off over his beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains for a moment and then, grinning winsomely as he impulsively grasped his pa's hand, he said, Gee whilikers, Pap! Then we'd be quality folksli' 1 Twenly-sigh!

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Um-m-m, maybe, Chad replied. I guess ya've got plenty o' corn with ya? queried Jed. Yep, I got thuh corn all righty. All we need is a full moon. Say, Jed, drop a word tuh thuh fellers about it. Will ya? Tell 'em it'll be ready in about . . . le's see . . . today's Monday . . . um-m-m . . . about a week from next Thursday. An, hush it up in case the sheriff's got his ear to thuh ground. Chad, seeing Sate approaching them, her face grim and set, raised his voice. Yep, Jed, ya've got thuh purttiest pair o' mules this side 0' thuh mountain. But I heerd that Rand -breaking off- Mornin', Mizz. Crocker . . . thet Rand Lennie, down in Elk Valley, has some mighty good ones. Huh! snorted Jed, 'Tm willin' tuh bet my mules against any of 'em in thuh valley. Well, I've got tuh be gittin' along if I ever aim tuh git there, and, lowering his voice, Chad added, Don't fergit tuh tell thuh fellers-ten days. And with that, Chad tramped up the mountain road, shifting the heavy sack to the other shoulder. Jed squared his shoulders, turned, and entered the cabin where Sate wrathfully awaited him. She turned on him with a cold but furious anger. Jed, was Chad Olliver invitin' you tuh one o' his corn-likker doin's ? VVhat if he was, Sate? A little corn-likker never hurt no one. Well, yore not a-goin' to it, Jed l Ya bet 'cher life I am! Ya jist mind yore own bizzness, an' I'll take keer o' myself, Jed replied scornfully. If ya git drunk on thet stuff jist once more, Jed, I'll . . . Seeing Joe enter the room, Sate bit her tongue and stopped the furious onrush of words. Glowering furiously at Jed, she set the victuals on the table. A strained silence settled over the usually warm and cozy kitchen, with the exception of J oe's cheerful chatter. Stony-faced and white-lipped, Sate helped Joe to the biscuits and sausages. Finally, shrugging his shoulders, Jed left the cabin and strode off toward Clover Lick. The pale thin moon had just slipped behind a cloud when a stealthy figure left the Crocker cabin at almost eleven o'clock. It was the night designated by Chad Olliver for the fellers to join him up at Cripple Creek. But a white face peered from the window. Sate's deep black eyes followed Jed's retreating figure up the mountain. Tears rolled quietly down her cheeks and dropped unheeded on her rough, worn hands. Her thoughts were of Joey and his performance on the following day. Sate knew that Joe had a deep, strong affection for his pa and that he was depending on Jed to be there. Jed, in the quiet undemonstrative way of the mountain- folk, was, of course, very fond and proud of his son, but he couldn't resist the chance for a good time. Sighing, she pulled the shawl more closely about her and settled herself to await J ed's uncertain arrival. A cold draft snuffed out the lighted candle, and Sate waited alone in the darkness. As the first short fingers of dawn crept over the mountain, pulling after it the red sun, Jed stumbled home and was half-dragged, half-carried to bed, where he fell into a deep stupor. Later that morning, about six o'clock, Joe came running into the kitchen after having fed the two cows. Whistling merrily, he paused in his route to the table long enough to splash icy spring water over his face and to rub it briskly with the coarse flour-sack towel. Mornin', Ma. Nice day, ain't it ? he said, and then rather shyly, as if with an afterthought, he gave her a quick hug and swung his leg over the chair to sit down at the table. Wh . . . why, Joey, Sate stammered, flushed and pleased with Joe's unusual display of affection. Joe, you know it ain't perlite tuh set down thet a-way. Eat up now, cause yer pa won't be eatin' no breakfastf' She heaped a stack of golden griddle cakes on the chipped plate, then she placed a wooden bowl of shining, juicy blueberries on the table. Joe just loved blueberries. Why ain't Pap eatin' none, Ma? Twenty-seven

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WATER FOUNTAINS WITH PERSONALITY BY ALICE SHAD Have you ever watched an unsuspecting schoolmate sidle up to one of Southwest's drinking fountains for a refreshing quaff of H20 only to be splattered in the face with a spray of cold water? That's an every-day occurrence around these parts and good for a laugh every time. Of course, the person on the receiving end doesn't appreciate the humor of it, but that's life. You just can't please everybody. The fountains at Southwest aren't just every-day faucets. These foun- tains have personality. At first I thought a few veteran gremlins, home from the wars, had set up housekeeping around. here and were making the faucets squirt high when they should squirt low, or perhaps Kilroy was making a sneaky comeback through the water pipes, but I finally decided that these fountains had minds of their own and were going to let people know it. I believe the reason they act up is that they don't feel well. Perhaps their pipes were cold the other night and they caught rheumatism in their joints. Or maybe their insides are all upset and they've got rust on their washers. The only way the poor things can show their feelings is to rebel against those crazy people who keep turning their handles and trying to make them give water all the time. I know if I were a water faucet I wouldn't like to be forced to supply with water strange people for whom I had no feelings whateverg and just think how monotonous to be continu- ally turned on and off. Why, it's enough to drive a faucet. crazy. Not that I'm for these temperamental little mechanisms acting up all the time. It's just that I can see their side of it. You've no doubt received a free eye wash at one time or another and therefore don't appreciate our fountains acting like miniature Old Faith- fuls, but, after all, it's not every fountain that gives you a drink and washes your face at the same time. I believe this drinking fountain dilemma could be easily solved if at each fountain were placed an umbrella with a wee hole in the top, a towel, a face cloth, and soap. When you wanted a drink all you'd have to do would be to put the umbrella over the fountain and allow the water to come through the hole. If some water did sprinkle through, however, you might go whole hog and apply the face rag and soap. Those temperamental fountains aren't so bad as they're made out to beg and though they may not be human, deep down in their sewer pipes they must have warm water running through their interiors. You know, when you think of it, it's quite an amusing affair. Just remember how hilarious the girl victims look with their pancake makeup dripping down their noses. Ha, ha, big jokeg but wait till it happens to you. Well, happy swimming and here's water in your eye! Q gi? E Aww' ,LQ ik Qi .. ,, 5 xv 7 .1 -I .x by -. ' . I sf' k -,-.--. Liqig u Twenty-nine