Spartanburg High School - Spartana Yearbook (Spartanburg, SC)

Text from Pages 1 - 78 of the 1922 volume:

Top Row—Helen Wright, Elizabeth Gooch, Louise McMillan, Florella Alexander, John Alexander, Peyre Kennedy, Verbie Hallman. Eleanor Jeffries, Esther Byers, Lucy Creech ___ Second Row Elizabeth Ellerbe, James West, Margaret Law, Fannye Cohen, Ada Childress, Ralph Kike, Theopa Turner, Minnie Lula Martin, Ruth Sanders, Wiley Bourne, Mary Willard p v € Third Row—Burette.Tillinghast, ALunitHSou Brown, Doris Ballenger, Ruth Gossett., Austin Connors, Maude Duncan, Charles Gould, Mary Johnson, Anne Bowen, Amllee Smith, Robert Bates Fourth Row—Gladys Sweeney, Grace Hughes, Helen Wilburn, Dorothy Hutto, John White, Frank Hagood, Earl Koon, Rachel Everett, Marie Littlejohn. Alice Crutchfield, Estelle GaSTT---------------- THE SCRIBBLER PUBLISHED QUARTERLY BY THE STUDENTS OP THE SPARTANBURG HIGH SCHOOL Vol. IV SPARTANBURG, S. C., MAY, 1922 No. 4 One Year Sinele Coov .. SUBSCRIPTION RATES 75c 25c PAGE DIRECTORY..................................................... 2 EDITORIALS .....1........................................... 3 LITERARY— Life (Senior Class Poem)—John White, ’22................. 6 The Pirate (A Story)—Clelia Mathewes, ’23................ 8 Sonnet on Dew—Estelle Gash, ’22......................... 10 Class History—Rachel Everett, ’22....................... 11 Class Prophecy—Mary Louise Dargan, ’22.................. 13 A Dogwood Tree—Dorothy Hutto, ’22....................... 19 Last Will and Testament—Maude Duncan, ’22 .............. 20 The River—Fanning Hearon, ’23........................... 23 Reflections of a Modern Sir Roger—Elford Morgan, ’23.... 24 Scribbler Scraps—Miscellaneous ......................... 25 Sonnet to My Tulip—Amilee Smith, ’22.................... 29 The Mysterious Rider—Susie Brooks, ’23.................. 30 The S entinel—Gladys Sweeney, ’22....................... 31 Enchantmatit—Clelia Mathewes, ’23....................... 32 A Colfection of Smiles— (a) A New Disease—Dorothy Doggette, ’23............ 32 (b) The Floral Romance—Isabel McCreary, ’23........ 33 (c) Why the Willow Weeps—Isabel McCreary, ’23...... 33 (d) Back Where She Started From—Frances Moore, ’23. 34 (e) To Lizzie—Maud Duncan, ’22..................... 34 JOKES ....................................................... 35 NEWS ........................................................ 41 EXCHANGE .................................................. 46 ATHLETICS ................................................... 49 THOSE WHO ADVERTISE WITH US.................................. 51 DIRECTORY Editor-in-Chief. STAFF .Rachel Everett, ’22 Associate Editors. Art Editor_______ Business_________ Faculty Adviser. Margaret Law, ’22 Mary Louise Dargan, '22 Annie Bowen, ’22 Pauline Brady, ’23 Fanning Hearon, ’23 James West, ’22 John White, ’22 ---Clelia Mathewes, ’23 -------Robert Bates, ’22 —Miss Alexina Atkins CASTALIAN LITERARY SOCIETY President_______ V ice-President . Critic_____ Censor_____ Secretary., Treasurer. ---------------.John White -----------Margaret Brown -------—...... Wiley Bourne -----------Liles Creighton -------Mary Louise Dargan ------------- Gabriel Hill GIRLS’ ATHLETIC ASSOCIATION President-------------------------------------------Lucy Creech Vice-President------------------------------------Rachel Everett Secretary and Treasurer_____________________Esther Byers BOYS’ ATHLETIC ASSOCIATION President----------------------------------James West Secretary and Treasurer__________________Frank Hagood Manager---------------------------Burette Tillinghast SENIOR CLASS OFFICERS President__________________________ —..Dorothy Hutto Secretary and Treasurer______________Alice Crutchfield EDITORIAL DEPARTMENT Leisure “Rest is not quitting the busy career, Rest is in fitting one’s self to one’s sphere. The good old summer time is here again, and already visions of the swimming hole and other inviting spots appear before our eyes. In a day or so school will be out, and three months of vacation will stretch before us. Have you thought of how you will spend this vacation ? At mention of this, long rows of ice cream cones come into your thoughts; hours of peaceful “snoozing”; dozens of picnics, parties, and automobile rides; cool moonlight nights; hammocks swinging in the breeze; the tinkle of ice in thin, frosted glasses and the music of a mandolin, wafted on a summer breeze. Not once does the thought of any “work” come into the pleasant dream. You never want to see another school book again—never! You don’t want to do anything but just know that there is nothing to do! But please remember that the 4 The Scribbler longer time you spend not doing anything will just make it that much harder to get back to studying in the fall. “A man is judged by how he spends his leisure.” How high will you be judged? Will you be at the bottom or at the top of the list? Playing is lots of fun, but it is even more fun when you mix it in with some good, hard work. Let’s all remember that our work is not finished on June the ninth, but that it goes on and on, forever. Seconds grow into minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years, and centuries. Don’t let time get away from you; for each second, with its share of work, when once lost can never be regained. Are you racing to keep up with time, or is time racing to keep up with you? Work is play when done in the right spirit, and “Time and tide wait for no man.” So let’s go! Dreams “In the magic of Springtime, dreams are changed into truth.” Dreams! We have always thought of dreams as intangible pleasures hardly ever realized. But now many of us who have worked hard this school term are finding that “in the magic of Springtime, dreams are changed into truth.” All during the year we have been dreaming, and now these dreams have been changed into glorious truths. The Senior’s dream of a diploma has become a reality and he stands now, proudest of all mortals, upon the threshhold of life. The Juniors, Sophomores, and Freshmen, though they did not have as high an ideal as a diploma to dream of, have realized their dream, for vacation has come, offering freedom and restraint from school. Dreams do not become realities unless one is willing to work for their realization. It is good to dream, but one must have the energy and determination to make his dream come true. As we go through life, if we always dream of a higher and nobler life, we will never live it unless we work towards that ideal. Thus, by work, we find that dreams are not illusions, but facts. So through the summer months, let us dream of a bigger and better year in school the next term than ever before, and, when school does re-open, do not keep on dreaming but work and make that dream come true. The Scribbler 5 These are the things I prize And hold of dearest worth; Light of the sapphire skies, Peace of the silent hills, Shelter of forests, comfort of the grass, Music of birds, murmur of little rills, Shadows of cloud that swiftly pass, And, after showers, The smell of flowers And of the good brown earth— And best of all, along the way, friendship and mirth. Henry Van Dyke. 6 The Scribbler LIFE (Senior Class Poem) “Our life is but a dream!” So spoke Of old the learned seers, And lo! their words in thundering tones Have echoed down the years. But see! The years in countless throngs Rise upward to deny. And hark! In acclamation loud, They stand and testify: “ ’Tis false! Our life is not a dream. Oh, look on us, the years, And see our never-ending strife, Our perils and our cares. And tell us, then, if thou canst say That life is but a dream!” “ ’Tis false! ’Tis false!” We make reply, “Our lives are what they seem. Life is a steep and rugged mount, With glory on its top. And we must labor, toil, and climb, Nor ever pause nor stop, For if we faint beside the way, We’ll lose our great reward, So we must fight, pass ever on, Though oft the way is hard. And when at last we’ve reached the top, With battles fought and won, The Scribbler 7 We’ll gain our prize, our great reward, With all our labor done.” To this the years, with one accord, Made answer once again, And with their voices hushed and calm, They gave a soft “Amen.” John White, ’22. 8 The Scribbler THE PIRATE “A gay, bold life on the ocean ware, Young, strong and never a fear; A dirk of steel and a cutlass true, I'm a rollicking buccaneer!” IRK clasped the book tightly in his fat fingers and gazed unseeingly into the glowing fire. Oh, to be a pirate! To fight to the death, to draw forth your sword dripping gory blood! With a sigh he returned to his book, and for half an hour there was silence in the cozy room. “There, before their astonished eyes, lay thousands of shining dubloons. Nicholas thrust his hand into the gleaming pile and let the gold pieces slip through his rough, scarred hands. “ ‘ ’Twas worth it,’ exclaimed Mark. ‘ ’Twas worth the perils and the dangers. Did ye ever see a goodlier treasure ? By the King’s crown, we shall be the richest men in Havershard town!’ “ ‘Aye,’ answered Nicholas, from his seat by the gold, ‘and never did I see so great a pile of moneys. I will purchase a great vessel with my share and sail upon the high seas. Come pirate or no, I shall sail to that new, strange land where are our colonies. Comrades, will ye venture with me?’ “ ‘Aye,’ quoth they, ‘right well ye know we will venture with you, Nicholas Van!’ “And so they returned to Merrie England whence they came.” Kirk closed the book and wandered to the window. Out in the windy street, a group of boys were chattering over a game of marbles, but he had no desire to go forth. “Why can’t there be any pirates now?” he pouted, “I bet I could knock those old fellers crazy!” He drew an imaginary sword and parried and thrust at the table right manfully. “You dirty old sea-robber, you!” he howled. “Whatcha think I am, anyway, a Til ole girl? Well, I’m not, suh, an’ dawg-gone it, don’tcha gimme none of yuh impudence, suh!” Suddenly remembering that these were decidedly not the words of Nicholas Van but those of Captain Lewis, who lived next door, he retired to his chair. The Scribbler 9 The wind whistled around the chimney, and Kirk drowsily wondered if that could be the wind whistling through the masts. Slowly the room faded, faded, and everywhere, as far as he could see, there stretched great wastes of white-capped waves. Leaning over the great ship’s side, he scanned the horizon for a sail. Suddenly Kirk saw, descending on them from the west a huge ship with black sails. Closer and closer she drew, like a huge vulture. “To the guns, my hearties!” roared the captain, for he realized that they could not possibly escape. Everything was thrown into confusion, and Kirk thought how very differently they had acted in the book. With scrupulous care he examined his big pistol, and then hurried to procure a cutlass. Nearer and nearer came the black ship, and he could see cruel faces peering over the sides. Looking around him, the boy saw that the “Angelica’s” crew was armed to the teeth and he felt much better. “Stand off, villians!” shrieked the gunner, and as he spoke the cannon belched forth a choking cloud of heavy smoke, and the decks rocked. The buccaneers were upon them! In a moment the air was filled with horrible groans and shrieks. Kirk, swinging his sword valiantly, heard a terrible scream that died away in a hoarse gurgle as the boatswain fell upon the deck, the victim of his assault. For an hour they fought back and forth across the slippery decks. A crimson mist swam before Kirk’s eyes and he swayed as he swung his sword. Suddenly from the struggling mass, there appeared a frightful figure. His blood-shot eyes darted about until they spied Kirk. Weilding his dripping cutlass he charged upon the boy, and in a moment they were fighting for their lives. Breathing blood-curdling threats, they fought back and forth. The pirate’s cutlass was sent spinning from him, but snatching a sword from another man, he renewed the fight. Suddenly, a pirate fell against Kirk, and losing his balance on the slippery floor, he fell flat on his back. In an instant the buccaneer was upon him with a dirk. Closer, closer drew the leering face with its livid scars and serpent eyes. The greasy mat of hair, peeping from ’neath the tattered silk, and 10 The Scribbler the heavy gold ear- and nose-rings were forever indented in Kirk’s mind. Just as the cut-throat drew back his hand for the final thrust, Kirk shut his eyes. When nothing happened, he opened them again. The face was still there but it looked strangely familiar. As it grew clearer, he recognized his life-long comrade, Bob Taylor. He leaped furiously for Bob’s throat, but stopped short, when he saw that Bob was grinning. The mists of sleep fell from his eyes and he gazed at his friend suspiciously. Hadn’t he been sitting a few minutes before in the very chair that Bob was holding? Then how did he get on the floor? Slowly a look of furious comprehension came over his face, and completely forgetting the bloody buccaneers, he followed in chase. Clelia Mathewes, ’23. -------------o------------- SONNET ON DEW The dew is thick upon the velvet grass, The tall green blades bend with their dewy load, While flowers beside the green-grown pasture road Are weighed with drops, like bits of crystal glass. And as through jeweled paths and lanes we pass, We see the flashing gems in old earth’s breast, In settings of green-gold they seem to rest As if set by a master in a mass Of purest metals. Some are more enhanced By greenest green, which forms a plush-lined case. Their sparkles all unite and form a ray Which beams and glitters, and the dark is lanced. The silk of Nature’s robe is trimmed with lace Of God’s own gems, the pearl’d dewdrops of May. Estelle Gash, ’22. The Scribbler 11 CLASS HISTORY T IS twilight in the great silent woods. The last red rays of the setting sun fall on the still figures of two gypsies seated by a camp fire. The peaceful spirit of the forest seems to be embodied in them as they bend over their work of stringing brilliant beads. They do not even stir when the slim, white-clad figure of a girl steals in from the entrance of the woods, which lie toward the big city beyond. The girl stands expectantly waiting near them. Her dainty fairness is in striking contrast to the rich, dark, oriental coloring of the gypsy’s features and garments. The girl draws nearer and speaks in an awed voice that breaks the brooding silence: Girl—Are you Zara and Guerda of whom I’ve heard so much? First Gypsy (without looking up)—We are Zara and Guerda, the daughters of Christina Guerda, who was ze seventh daughter of the Eastern Star. Our fame has reached the ends of the world. Why do you seek us? Girl—The class of ’22 graduates tonight. I want to learn their fortune. Second Gypsy—You cross-a my palm with-a ze silver. I tell-a ze past. My li’F crystal ball, she tell-a ev’ry zing. Ze silver past! I recall it. Girl (eagerly crossing the Gypsy's palm with silver)—Wonderful ! Begin at the first year of our high school life. Gypsy (staring into the ball)—Ah, I see ze liT boys an’ girls w’at tink-a zey are ver’ big. Zey live-a yet at ze Gramma school. No room in ze ole High. Zey are ze ol’est an’ mos’ privileged wher’ zey are. I see somezine else. (Pause.) Ver’ many children singing. Oh, yes, it is a musical concert of patriotic songs. Many of ze class members take-a ze part. Great success! (Troubled pause). Clouds! Big clouds of disease! Ze influenza snatches ze liT children. An’ ze schools close. Zey open again! Zen vacation. Girl—That’s exactly right. I remember now. Tell me what happened the second year. 12 The Scribbler Gypsy—I see liT boys an’ girls with big eyes. Zey are now in ze ol’ building of High School. Ze many teachers scare zem. Ze are feelin’ ver’ small now. Ah! ze rival enter! Ze Hastoc School for Girls open! Ze class lose-a four or five members. Ver’ nice members zey wer’ too! Two of ze class are on ze Scribbler staff. Zey is much overawed by ze stately Zeniors! Zey aspire to zer sublime heights of dignity. Vacation come-a ’again after ze schools have shut its doors to keep ze influenza away. Girl—Go on! Gypsy—Now, zey are Juniors! Zey grow in zer own opinion. One more year! Zey are blessed by two young creatures dashin’ from-a ze West. Arkansas and Texas add to ze class one member each. {Pause). Oh! Behold! Ze Juniors wax dramatic. Zey give-a ze famous “Trial by Fire” at ze literary society. Ver’gran’mock trial. {Pause). Mercie! Too much excitement! Circus and fair all in-a ze one day. Zey get over it howsoever. Ze end of ze year draw near. Mis’ Jennings, ze English teacher, leave-a for ze Europe. Zey lose-a ze wonderful teach. Vacation come-a ’gain. Girl—And now for the last year! Gypsy—Yes, ze las’ year. I see ze Zeniors with ze spyglass lookin’ for ze privileges zey have heard so much about. {Pause). Ah, I see ze Puritans and Huguenots. I do not understand. {Troubled). Oh, yes! It is for ze Armistice Day Pageant. Ze “Latin” section of-a ze class are ze Puritans. Ze “French” section, who repose in ze Ole Ladies’ Home, on account of ze lack of room, are ze Huguenots. Ver’ pretty, both. Zat passes ... I now see flames an’ a three-legged stove. Legs ver’ weak. Somebody hits zem. Stove fall! Flames rise, also shrieks! No danger howze-ever. {Pause). Ah, debates! Recitations! Two of ze class go to ze Columbia to recite an’ declaim. Fine! But zat happen after ze Great Event! Ze “Frank Evans High School” fling open ze doors. Zey enter to spend-a ze rest of ze school days in-a ze beautiful surroundings. Rachel Everett, ’22. The Scribbler 13 CLASS PROPHECY Girl—“It is all so true. How I recall each day, each friend, each teacher! Surely, I shall not forget them in the future. Seven years from today. What shall we be doing? How I wonder! Oh {eagerly), could you tell me?” Gypsy—“I no speculate wi’ ze future. It iss of danger. But Zaree, she lika ze adventure. She will tell you.” Girl—“Oh, will you ?” Zaree {nods)—“But, first, you mus’ crossa my hand wi’ ze gold. Ze future ver’ bright lika gold.” {The girl crosses the Gypsy’s hand with gold, and then holds out her own hand to her.) Gypsy—“Oh, it iss as I haf thought. I see ze gold. I see auso ze vater. Oh, I haf it! Ze gold is across ze vater. It iss of royalty. It iss in ze crown of ze queen of England. I see more gold. It iss ze hair of a laidee—ver’ fair, ver’ tall, ver’ stately laidee. Her name iss Elizabeth. The las’ name —I cannot see it—it iss long.” Girl {suggestively)—“Ellerbe ?” Gypsy—“Oh, zat iss it—was it. She haf changed it. She haf married an ambassador. I see lil’ trouble. Ze Amer’can laidee iss of bluntness. She tella ze queen zat her dress— zere iss not enough of it—zat it iss too short. Ze queen ver’ angry. She locka ze Amer’can laidee up in jail. Ze husband of Elizabeth auso ver’ angry—he iss an Amer’can. He angry at ze queen. He know zat Mr. Black—oh, zat iss not right—Mr. White, Mr. John White, is ze bes’ lawyer. He getta him for the trial. Mr. White auso ver’ angry. He remember his History and what Mees Stribling haf taught him about ze freedom of ze speech. Zere iss many witnesses. Eleanor Jeffreys iss one. She, too, haf changed her name. She haf married an English lord, but she witness for ze Amer’can laidee. She getta up and say what she haf to say. She laff while she say it. She always laff. Ze lawyer for ze queen getta up and repeat what she haf said. He say zat iss not right—zat it iss zis way. Eleanor getta up and say, why, zat iss what she say at first. Mr. White—how he 14 The Scribbler laff. He remembers again his History. Zat is ze way she do then. She always tella Mees Stribling she haf said what she haf not said. Mr. White maka ver’ fine speech. It maka him famous. Bye ’m’ bye, he become ze great judge. His speech—it iss studied in ze schools, “Ze people at home ver’ anxious to hear about ze trial. Ze postman taka ze news to a small house—what you call him ?— bungalow. It iss ze house of Esther Byers. Ze class ver’ sentimental. She, too, haf married. She rush to ze door. She ver’ glad at ze news. She haf only time to go to read ze headlines. She mus’ go to ze church, ze club, ze party. She so busy. She always busy. She ver’ important in ze community. “Nex’, ze postman taka ze news to ze meat market. Ze butcher iss cuttiiT beef. He look ver’ fetchin’ in his lil’ white cap and apron. He, too, haf only time to read ze headlines. His wife jerka ze paper from his hands. It iss ze wife of Earl Koon. He is ze butcher. His wife ver’ fat— Earl ver’ little. He can do nothin’. His wife luff him ver’ much. She not lika him to read about ze women. “Zen, ze postman goes to ver’ crowded place. It iss ze University. He goes to ze cottage on ze campus. It iss ze home of Ralph Fike. He haf married. His wife not jealous of women—she ver’ sweet, ver’ pretty, ver’ proud of Ralph. Ralph ver’ happy. He, too, read ze news in a hurry. It iss time for his class. He teacha Amer’can History. He auso teacha English. He maka a good teacher. He remember what Mees Atkins tella him about ze noun following’ ze preposition. When he not teach, he writa ze book. It iss ze ‘History of South Carolina.’ He dedicate it to Mees Stribling. She ver’ proud of Ralph. “Ze postman taka ze news nex’ door to ze home of Prof. John Alexander. He, too, mus’ go to his class. Jus’ as he used to putta ze lizzards and ze rats on ze girls at school, he still play an’ work wi’ zem. He iss ze professor of ze Zoology. He iss not married yet. He iss ze old maid—oh, I mean ze bachelor. But already he iss in luff. He is scared of ze laidee. When he scrape up his courage, he will aska The Scribbler 15 ze laidee to marry him. Zey will elope! Ze two professors discuss ze news from zere porches. As zey go to zere classes, zey talk of other things—how zey will see ze famous Peyre Kennedy knock ze home run at ze ball game. He ver’ famou player. He play in ze big league. Zey discuss ze latest book, it iss written by Mamie Lou Brown. It iss ver’ romantic— ver’ full of luff. “Zen, ze news iss carried to ze busy office. It iss ze office of Margaret Law. She haf been married—one, two, three times! She now know so much about ze way to get husbands zat she decide she will help other women who do not seem to know how to get them. She conduct ze husband trunk—ah, zat iss not right—ze matrimonial bureau. She auso ver’ glad at ze news of ze paper. She zen open her other mail. It iss all ze same—much requests for husbands— much requests for wives. One of ze letters iss from Mr. Fish—I mean Mr. Bates. He wanta a wife. He wanta her quick. He know not how to get her. He haf already proposed to all ze women zat he knows, an’ zey do not want to marry. Margaret smile. She know why zey won’t marry him. He iss too changeable. He do not stick. He wuz zat way when he went to school. She will helpa him. She will tella him of his mistake. Margaret opens another letter. It iss from a person she do not know. He tella her of ver’ rich, ver’ beautiful, ver’ charming laidee zat he wanta marry. She iss of society. She iss Alice Crutchfield. She do not want to marry. She haff too good a time. She haf many beaus. Ze young man’s heart is broken—busted. He do not know what to do. Margaret do not either. She remember zat Alice always treat her sweethearts zat way. “It iss time for her lunch, but she haff no time to go to it. She go to ze tea room. It iss called ‘ze Doris Ballenger Tea Room.’ She did not know zat Doris haff a tea room, but zen she haff been away so long. She enter, an’ sit down. It ver’ nice tea room, but she shocked zat zere iss no waitress. She looka around for her, and see her at ze gentleman’s table. It iss Ada Childress! She no longer shocked. She remember how ver’ fond Ada iss of ze boys. Ada ver’ glad to see her. She tella her much news. She says zat Doris 16 The Scribbler maka money, zat she is married and happy, but she luff to work. Zat Mary Williard and she make ze agreement zat if zey ever marry, zey will keepa on workin’, but zat Mary, when she marry, go backa on ze agreement. She live in a small town. She haff her home, her car, her husband. She so happy. She tella her zat ze tea room iss so nice, zat Doris use ze fly catcher zat Frank Hagood invented. Frank such a great inventor. He maka ze pompourdorine for ze hair. It maka it slick back. Frank use it himself. Ze laidies ver’ fond of Frank. He is ze Beau Brummel. She tella of ze people zat come to ze tea room. Theopa Turner comes ver’ often. She lika to eat. She iss a stenographer. She chew chewing gum while she typewrite. She always chew chewin’ gum. She inves’ her money in ze chewin’ gum factory. She hope to own one some day. Zen, zere is Austin Connors. He famous statesman. He maka many speeches. He so busy zat he need ze adviser. Verbie Hallman maka fine adviser—she so smart. She tella him everything to do, from ze girls he like to ze speeches he make. Zen, James West bringa his wife zere for dinner. His wife so nice. Ada lika her. She ver’ rich. She tippa Ada. James iss ze principal of ze school. He maka a fine one. He ver’ strict. Ze pupils is scared of him. Mary Johnson iss an old-maid hairdresser. She runna ze beauty parlor. She come ver’ often. With, comes ze old-maid school teacher. It iss Amilee Smith. She teacha ze science, ze mathematics. She ver’ fine teacher. Florella Alexander coma wi’ zem sometime, but she canna come so ver’ often. She iss married. She singa in ze church choir. Annie Bowen buya ze cakes, ze bread. She keepa house for ze busy mother of a family. She maka a good housekeeper. She haff such good things to eat. Margaret admire ver’ much ze lil’ cap and apron zat Ada wear. Ada say zat she buya it from Helen Wright and Helen Wilburn. Zey haff a famous dressmaking establishment. It iss called “Helen and Helen.” Ze people like zere clothes. Ada see ze dress on Lucy Creech, zeir model. She maka fine model. She luff to hold out her hands and show off ze clothes. Ada show Margaret a picture, an’ ask if she know who it iss. Margaret do not know, The Scribbler 17 but she see in ze corner, ‘Always Charles Gould.’ Ada say zat he iss ver’ famous movie star, zat all ze girls is crazy about him, and zat he sella his picture for twenty-five cents to zem. Ada haff zis one. Louise McMillan also haff one. She iss become ze professor at Wofford. She fond of ze boys. Ruth Sanders—she also haff one. She iss ze dashin’ young widow. Zat iss all ze news Ada knows. But she bringa Margaret a sandwich. It taste like ze sandwiches Doris used to bringa to school. It iss so good. Margaret zen leaves. She thinka, ‘O, what a gossip zat Ada iss!’ But she ver’ glad to hear ze news zat she tella her. “Zat afternoon, Margaret go to ze fair. She laff when looka at ze frolic. She ’member how she used to be so scared to ride on it. Now, it looka like ze flyin’ jenny to her. It iss so tame. Only ze babies ride on it. Ze other people whirl ’round ze air in ze aeroplanes. Somebody speaka to her. She recognize ze speaker. Zere iss no other like him. It iss Burette Tillinghast. He haff become ze Professor of English. He auso writa ze English grammar. He dedicate it to Mees Atkins, because she tella him zat he ought to write one when he grow up. He know so much more zan ze author of ze book he study know zat he dispute him often. Zat is why she tella him to write it. As Margaret go on, she hear a voice telling her zat ze Wild West Show ver’ fine. Ze voice sound familiar. It iss Garland Taylor’s. He convince Margaret zat ze show iss good, so she go in. Zere is many cow girls. Zere iss one wi’ black curls. It is Maud Duncan. Margaret not surprised when she remember zat Maud come from Texas and zat she ver’ fond of it. Maud ver’ bad, ver’ mischievous. When she recognize Maragaret, she leave the stage. She do not care whether she break up ze show or not. She tella Maragaret zat Ruth Gossett is auso in ze show, but zat she iss not zere this afternoon. Maud haff not married. She haf a farmer beau, whom she luff, but she will not marry because she iss scared she will get fat in ze country. She mus’ stay in ze city. But she will marry him soon. She will get ver’ fat auso. She will make a fine farmer’s wife. I see lil’ accident. It iss an automobile accident. Ze automobile iss a truck. Maud maka ze accident 18 The Scribbler when ze take ze milk to ze town to sell. Maud looka so funny, rollin’ in ze milk. She haff grown so fat. “Margaret ver’ tired, but she do not go home yet. She go to ze opera. First, she hear ze orchestra. It iss of jazz. It iss conducted by Gladys Sweeney. She luff ze jazz so. Zen, zere iss Rachel Everett. She iss ze new kind of actress. She show ze people how to put expression in zere hands instead of in zere faces. Zat is ze way she always haff done. It iss an art. When she do not act, she draw ze pictures for ze fashion magazines. Her laidies iss so stylish. Her talent iss in her fingers. Zen, zere is another actress, Estelle Gash. She do Laidee Macbeth for ze audience. When she go to school and study Shakespeare, ze girls all tell her zat she haff ze Laidee Macbeth eyes. She narrow zem so dangerous like. Zis iss not ze regular opera, you see. It iss ze gathering of all ze artists zat haff ever lived in ze cities, no matter what kind of artist zey is or where zey live. Zen comes anozer actress. She iss Marie Littlejohn. She show ze people how to act like ze bady. She cry, ‘Wa! Wa!’ Just like ze baby cry. She haff had much practice. She always cry like zat. Zen, zere is ze comedian, Wylie Bourne. He iss so funny. He maka ze audience laff just lika he maka ze pupils at school laff. Zen, las’, zere is ze singer, ze audience iss thrilled. Her voice iss now, so low; now, so high. It iss so rich, so full, so clear, so deep. Ze audience iss spellbound. She singa ze grand opera. She singa like ze lil’ child. She iss so wonderful. It iss Fannye Cohen. Margaret ver’ proud to be her friend. “Ze opera is ofer. Margaret go home. She haf had too mucha excitement. She grow sick, and senda for ze doctor. Her doctor out of town, but another doctor comes. When Maragaret see her, she grow well. It iss Grace Hughes. She tella of her business. She is ver’ successful, but she haff her difficulty. She iss so tender-hearted zat she cry over her patients. Zat iss bad, when she iss operating. She haff two nurses. Zey are Dorothy Hutto and Elizabeth Gooch. Zey make such pretty nurses. Ze men lika for zem to nurse zem. Zey lika to nurse ze men. Margaret not so surprised at Elizabeth, but she ver’ surprised at Dorothy. Grace say The Scribbler 19 zat she iss scared zey will get married and leave her. Zey so pretty. Margaret well now, so Grace go home. Margaret decide zat nex time she got sick she will send again for Grace. She maka her well so quick. She so nice, so sympathetic, so ver’ jolly. “Ah, zat iss all ze members of ze class. It iss as you haff said. Ze days, ze friends, ze teachers will not be forgotten. Zey have made zere great impression. Ze spirit of ze class will live on an’ on in ze hearts of its members. Zey luff it so. Oh, zat iss all ze gold I can see. Zere iss clouds, zat mean sorrow. But, back of ze clouds, I see ze gleam of more gold —much more gold! Zat iss ze way it always iss wi’ zis class—‘jus’ a liT sorrow and such a lot of ze beautiful, shining gold!’ ” Mary Louise Dargan, ’22. --------------o------------ A DOGWOOD TREE Beneath the shelt’ring boughs of massive oaks, A timid dogwood tree began to grow; The robins sang sweet songs to it below, And here the frisky chipmunk told his jokes; Near by there blossomed tiny heliotropes, So shyly peeping at the outside world. The dogwood petals in the breezes whirled, When unexpected gust from fragrant winds So swiftly tore them from their leafy boughs. Near by, beside a bank of mossy green, A merry, little brooklet danced and sang; On either side there grew so many flow’rs That one would think two rainbows bound the stream— This peaceful place is where the dogwood sprang. Dorothy Hutto, ’22. 20 The Scribbler LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT HE little radio-phone on President Harding’s desk was receiving much attention. An important government official and prominent financier was having his will sent by radio to President Harding, a very close friend. “Click-click, br-r!” The secretary drew his chair closer, notebook in hand. President Harding picked up the receiver. “Last Will and Testament,” he heard. “Ah, we have it! All ready ?” he asked his secretary. “State of South Carolina.” “This will is from South Carolina. I was expecting one from New York. Go one and take it though, perhaps he’s away from home.” The President’s voice was worried, but the will had begun. “We, the Senior Class of Spartanburg High School, one thousand nine hundred and twenty-two, fourth year of hard labor and first year in Frank Evans High School, being of sound mind and good judgment, but realizing that our days are numbered, do hereby declare this to be our last will and testament. We bequeath—.” “Minds of monkeys are the most intellectual of all animal minds,” came the fragment of a lecture over the phone, breaking into the will. “Monkey business! Wire’s crossed!” muttered the President. “Click, bing—!” “We bequeath Mary Louise Dargan’s ability to tip the scales above the hundred mark to ‘Stick’ Lindsay, with a large sized bottle of Scott’s Tissue Builder. “John Alexander’s commanding figure and appealing voice are left with Roy Gash. “Rachel Everett leaves a big pink sunbonnet and a few freckles to ‘Little Red’ Habel. “Peyre Kennedy leaves his French book and half of a package of Chesterfields to Fanning Hearon. “Annie Bowen wishes to leave a few small books and pamph- The Scribbler 21 lets, ‘How to Get Thin to Music’ and ‘Eat and be Thin’ to Felix McCracken. “Esther Byers’ flame of beauty is left with ‘Little Red’ Habel. After much persuasion Charlie Gould has consented to leave his everlasting grin to Professor Hallman. “Marie Littlejohn leaves her playthings, including one buffalo nickel, a piece of small string, and a razor blade, to Julie Fairy. “Frank Hagood, Garland Taylor, and ‘Skeet’ Tillinghast wish to leave a nice comfortable room to Fanning Hearon, Thomas Harmon, and Bob Turnipseed in case they might be forced to seek a ‘house of refuge’ during some lesson period. “John White leaves his love affairs, which consist of a few notes and Eskimo Pie wrappers, to the most bashful boy in the Junior class. Elmer Habel has been nominated. “The Senior class wishes to leave the Senior privileges, with a pair of ‘specs’ to aid in finding them, to the Junior class. A special committee composed of Ruth Sanders, Estelle Gash, and Lucy Creech, after much hard labor and deep thought, have unearthed the following privileges: (1) You may speak all you want to. (Provided the teacher does not hear you.) (2) You may leave the room at any time. (That is if you can get permission.) (3) You may leave the school grounds and even go to town without permission. (That is, after two o’clock.) (4) You need not study in the study periods. (Provided you know all of your lessons and have written next week’s theme.) (5) You may talk all you want to in literary society. (If you are willing to pay the fine.) “Alice Crutchfield, Doris Ballenger, Ada Childress, Elizabeth Gooch, Mamie Lou Brown, and Mary Louise Dargan leave hairnets and hairpins to their long-haired Junior sisters. “Amilee Smith leaves that wonderful name of her to Virginia Smith. “Robert Bates and Austin Connors wish to leave a cake of Palmolive soap to Jimmie Carson and Lowry Lindsay, so that they may keep that ‘School Boy Complexion.’ 22 The Scribbler “Dorothy Hutto leaves her sweet disposition and calm temperament to Clelia Mathewes. “Jim West leaves his strong will power and courage, that he has to use in the Silver Magnet to keep it from going bankrupt, to Elford Morgan. “Elizabeth Ellerbe, Grace Hughes, and Louise McMillan leave their nerve to the Freshman class. “Fanny Cohen leaves her voice to the most timid Freshman, so that no one will dare run over him. “Mary Willard and Florella Alexander leave their dimples to Miss Foster and Miss Martin, respectively. “Eleanor Jeffries leaves her love of nourishment to Marguerite Kellette. “Theopa Turner leaves one-half package of Spearmint chewing gum to Liles Creighton. “Ralph Fike, Earl Koon, Margaret Law, Wiley Bourne, and Verbie Hallman leave their ability to answer such questions as the following to the Junior class: ‘If it takes a spotted humming bird one-half second to get honey out of young onion tops, growing by the side of a brook in which there are hungry gold fish, how long would it take a yellow-tailed woodpecker to get a “June bug” off of an oak tree, provided this tree was planted during the Revolutionary War by a crosseyed colored negro ?’ “Gladys Sweeney leaves a pair of well-sharpened scissors and curling tongs to any member of the Junior class who would like to be ‘dignified’ Seniors. “Garland Taylor leaves a library of books, ‘How to Become President,’ to Bob Turnipseed.” “Click! Br-r—Bling—!” “Connections broken again!” came the disgusted exclamation form the President. “Cotton up to thirty-three cents.” “Man plans trip to Mars on honeymoon.” But again the familiar voice came over the wire: “Helen Wilburn, Mary Johnson, Ruth Gossett, and Helen Wright all have powder puffs which they refuse to will to anyone, as they have decided to keep them for the few remaining hours of their Senior life.” The Scribbler 23 Know all by these presents, that this is our last will and testament. Sworn to before me this ninth day of June, 1922. Maude Duncan, ’22. --------------o------------- THE RIVER In early morning freshly flows he forth. The sparkling splash of sunlit ripples sing A song that fills the heart of fishermen. The flashing diamonds on the trees reflect The dancing slits of morning sunlight clear, And form a sil’vry arch of swaying bows That dip and splash amongst the swirling waves. In midday when the others are asleep, He slowly winds his way along the path That is beneath the broiling, blinding sun A dusty scorched and burning place of heat, Cooled only by his shaded peacefulness. Beneath a silver moon he creeps amongst The shadows dancing on his bouyant breast. The sleepy willows softly rock as if A babe was folded in their swaying arms. While all the world in solemn silence lies, The sinking moon denotes the sparkling dawn. Fanning Hearon, ’23. 24 The Scribbler REFLECTIONS OF A MODERN SIR ROGER HAVE a very queer friend, a man of peculiar ideas. We have talked on the most ancient and modern subjects together, and I always find that he has interesting thoughts concerning them. Not very long ago, when we were discussing the marvelous inventions of the radio, he broke into the subject abruptly, saying, “What do you think of the modern-day public powderers ?” I was astonished at such a question. So I remained silent, while he continued, “Everywhere I go among women I am constantly seeing that little round pink cloth, called a powder puff, brought into view. The ladies take this out every few minutes and powder their noses, which get whiter and more powdery each time. When a stranger comes into the room, it seems that every girl turn aside to apply one more coat of powder before meeting the person. I see these “puffs” again brought forth on the street. Every corner seems to be the appointed place for a new pat of powder. They powder for all occasions and at all places, whether going swimming or to the theatre. They say that it is even practiced in school by the younger ladies.” Then, with a laugh, he dropped the subject, saying, “These are wise women. Their ancestors in the time of Queen Elizabeth took all the morning to make themselves beautiful. Our girls catch beauty on the fly and look as perfect as they did long ago.” Elford Morgan, ’23. Rising Seniors The Scribbler 25 SCRIBBLER SCRAPS [The editors regret that lack of space forbids them to publish much excellent material which is handed in. By taking “scraps” from stories or poems we have made a medley which we hope will give you an idea of the manuscripts we have on hand and also an idea of the editors’ task in selecting from good material the best.] UNE in Marketown! The sun was creeping over the horizon. Its rays flooded the valley, transforming the dew which had fallen on the long blue-grass the night before into a shining lake, reflecting all the colors of the rainbow into the pure morning air. The birds were singing in the tall green pines. The murmuring little brook, as it wound its path between the hills and across the meadow, sparkled and danced. For it was spring (Dudley Allen, ’24). ’Twas the dawn of a new day When the sun did appear, Out from the pitch black darkness Into the sunny sphere. ’Twas the dawn of a new spring When the violet was spied, Rising from bleak white winter Into the blithesome tide. (Elizabeth Gooch, ’22). Beside a quaint and stony wall, Untouched by cold and cruel winds, There sprang in answer to Spring’s call Two slips of green, like fairy wings. (Frances Beckwith, ’23). Yes, it was June, the tenth of June in Marketown. And Marketown was happy, very happy. No town had ever been happier. The sun seemed to shine brighter than usual; the birds seemed to sing more lustily. The air was flooded with romance. Romance burst forth from the trees; romance bloomed in every flower; romance rocked gently back and forth in every breeze. 26 The Scribbler There was not a home in Marketown that did not feel it. Even those whose occupants were wont to hurl things at each other’s head felt its light touch in their midst—and rejoiced. (Ella Brooks, ’23). The sunlight burnished still brighter the bright red hair of a queer-looking little man coming down the street of Marketown at this early hour. He was a solid, substantial citizen, who had the respect of all his fellow citizens and was proud of it. You could easily tell that by the way he swung his highly ornamental little cane and peered through his two pairs of spectacles at every passerby. He had only one weakness. No, two—a taste for green plaid and a lack of sense of humor. The former he indulged in on incognito trips; the other was with him always. He was “Irish,” the town’s only real estate dealer. He thought not of the beautiful stretches around his home as “meadows pied with daisies trim” or the “violet-embroidered dale”; but as “Lots For Sale.” He thought not of the tumble-down shack as a “Little Grey Home,” but as “House to Rent.” The very spring in his walk spoke of complacency. (Agnes Marsh, ’23). The “Bounce! Bounce!” of his walk as he left town and started into the country seemed to say: At dawn upon a mountain height; At dusk upon the sea; All day long in the bright sunlight; Come, rove the world with me. (Elizabeth Ellerbe, ’22). After several miles of bouncing “Irish” finally reached his goal, the “Old Stone Mansion,” as it was called by all the people who lived in the little village. It was one of the oldest houses in the community. Generation after generation it had been occupied by the Stewarts. They had always been and still were proud people; and in truth they had a right to be. You could always tell a Stewart by the way he held his head. It was innate in them, from the old Major down to his great-grandson, the young- The Scribbler 27 est Stewart, who was twenty years old. Their proudest possession was the old mansion, which had been kept intact from the least change since the night George Washington spent there. (Frances Beckwith, ’23). It was an old, dilapidated white house huddled at a great distance from the curving road. Its many dark cypress trees added a touch of gloom. A dark green shutter had slipped reluctantly from one stained window in a tottering fashion. The massive columns and the balustrade of the upper veranda showed many scars of time. The south wing of the mansion held a bird’s nest, with a wisp of straw streaming from the top. A hungry-eyed hawk perched on the top step seemed to be the one live touch in the whole scheme. (Mamie Lou Brown, ’22). To “Irish,” as he came nearer, even the hawk seemed to have the tilt to his head, which was characteristic of all the Stewarts. Why, even the brutes and birds seemed to have absorbed that “stuck-up air of those no-accounts,” Irish thought as the “senseless critter” gazed disdainfully at the wondrous green plaid. Well, it was the only living being which could gaze so at him now, for only yesterday, the green plaid had triumphed over the old grey of the Major; and the Stewarts were driven by “Irish” from their almost sacred “Old Stone Mansion.” But all these facts were soon forgotten as he gazed at the artistic, antique pile before him. His thoughts were dealing not with the dust of the ages, but with “Renovation, Hammers, Paint, Bon Ami, Boarding House, Terms per Day $1.50.” As he wandered from one wing of the house to another and desecrated it with these thoughts in his mind, he heeded not the passage of time until he heard the flutter of the old hawk, as he started homeward for the night. Then he realized that the shadows of the cypress trees were long and that he must follow the old hawk. The sun had ended its day’s journey. The night wind already had begun to blow the fragrance of wild blossoms from the mountains, and night to cast her grey shadows over the brilliant path of the setting sun. (Lillian Patten, ’23). 28 The Scribbler The nightly shadows now were falling fast; The sunset’s glow was fading in the west; The windmill crimsoned with the dying sun ; The crickets started with their evening song. (Liles Creighton, ’23). The peaceful lake was silent in the eve, As merry stars began to twinkle down Upon the earth serene. Above the pines, On peaks around, the moon began to rise. (Margaret Law, ’22). “Irish” was startled to see that so much time had passed and that he must make the long journey back to Marketown in the darkness. He didn’t like that very much, for his conscience was none too clear about that transaction with the Stewarts on the day before. He looked up above him. Black clouds were sailing ’cross the sky; Half moon was hung so low; Mourning winds went sneaking by; A sound came soft and slow. (Frances Beckwith, ’22). He looked around him quickly to see where it had come from, and discovered that in making a short cut through the forest, he had almost run into a little log cabin. The groan had come from little Abe, a very lively species of a very black cloud. He had heard with trembling his mother’s call, for he dreaded that darkness within the cabin, which seemed to reach out for him in front and clutch at him from the rear. But the call came again; this time in a very decided tone. Little Abe heard it as he shrank down on the doorstep; and “Irish” heard it as he crept closer into the shadow and listened. “Abe, go fetch yourself to bed!” his mammy said. “What you skeered of when Ah done told you dey ain’t no ghosts ?” “Ah ain’t skeered of ghosts what am,” ejaculated little Abe. “Den what am yer skeered of ?” The Scribbler 29 “Nuffin,” murmured little Abe. “Ah ain’t thought much of the ghosts what am, but I jest feel kinda on my knees about the ghosts what aint.” (Marguerite Kellette, ’23). And “Irish” proceeded on down the crooked path that led to Marketown, feeling that little Abe had expressed his feelings also. -------------o------------ SONNET TO MY TULIP Sweet yellow tulip, standing all alone Amid your bed of comrade hyacinths, Each butterfly remains to catch the scents Which flow from out the brightest yellow cone. Your tow’ring head sways, while the March winds moan; You hold it proudly, up above the rest, As if you know I love you much the best Of all your sweet companions which I own. I see you from my window as I sit, Alone up here. I serve as guardian. The robin as he lights upon the ground, On first this side and that, around would flit; Almost would touch you when he spies no one. Away he flies when first he spies my frown. Amilee Smith, ’22. 30 The Scribbler THE MYSTERIOUS RIDER T WAS in the year seventeen seventy-seven, during the struggle of America for her independence. The day was clear, crisp and bright; the sky a clear, cloudless blue; the day should have been one of peace. But the tramp of armed hosts marred the beauty of Nature. From every bush and tree, shrub and hedge, shone the glistening points of bayonets and arms. In the two armies, drawn up and arrayed for battle, there was anything but peace and tranquility. The battle had not yet begun. The commander and his officers stood upon a height, watching the two armies. The general had grave doubts about the outcome, for the soldiers of the American forces were greatly outnumbered and somewhat outclassed. And this was the crisis of the war. If they failed to take Bemus Heights, the American cause was lost. As they watched, the thundering of the cannons was heard, smoke rolled upwards, cries and yells, borne to them, told them that the battle was on. Suddenly, along the height where the officers stood, there came, rushing along, a superb, black horse, bearing on his back a rider. They were riding like mad, straight toward the distant battle. The rider drew his sword, waved it in the air, and his shouts could be heard above the din of the battle. He dashed on, into the midst of the fight. Wherever there was the sharpest fighting, he was always seen, on his horse black as death, his face red with blood. Now in the cannon’s flame, now on the side of the cliff, he ever led his men to the victory. Once in the fight, a company of Americans was being defeated and routed by the British. They came fleeing through hedges and brush, scattering their arms by the way, and pursued by a band of British twice their number. The unknown rider, galloping over the field, reined his steed right in the path of the Americans. “Back! Cowards! Are you Americans? Retreat another step and I’ll kill you myself !” The Americans turned at his command and charged. “Now, let them have it! Fire!” The British were routed with much loss, and around the horse and his rider gathered the band of Americans with wild cheers. The Scribbler 31 Thus, it continued the whole day. Wherever the black horse and his rider went, there was victory. At the last, toward the setting of the sun, came the climax. Bemus Heights must be charged. But the leaders by no persuasion, could induce the men to make the attempt. Even the general despaired. But wait! look! Across the field, in this moment of despair, came the black horse and his rider, thundering along. He neared the men, snatched a rifle, and to the dismay of all, dashed up the cliffside. Could he do it? Up, up, he went, toward the fortress, slipping, tottering, but steadily nearing the top. He turned and shouted, but the call was needless. The Americans followed. Again the rifles spoke their messages of death, and the conflict raged anew. In the midst of the strife was always the Unknown. The smoke cleared away, and in the gate of the fortress stood the black horse and its rider. The steed fell, shot by a hundred bullets, but his rider shouted as the British were routed, “We have won!” As the echo of the cry died away, he fell, his leg shattered by a cannon ball. The day was won. Do you recognize the mysterious rider? No? Bend down and look into his face again. Now, do you? Ah! The rider of the black horse was he who was afterwards branded as a traitor, scorned and dishonored, Benedict Arnold. Susie Brooks, ’23. ------------o------------ THE SENTINEL A massive mountain towered above the land And stood as sentinel between two vales. Upon his head he wore a cap of snow, And fleecy clouds hung low to make his beard. His coat was olive green—the forest’s gift, And striped with spiral roadways, climbing high. He gazed down from his lofty height and saw Two peaceful valleys nestling at his feet. The old guard smiled—they were his children dear; Now all was well, and he resumed his watch. Gladys Sweeney, ’22. 32 The Scribbler ENCHANTMENT When morning ope’s her portals wide, And lights the world with golden rays, The tiny elves of clouds and night Go quickly home by hidden ways. But in their place the sprites of dawn, Peep shyly from their flower beds; They yawn and rub their little eyes, And shake their tousled little heads. With airs and affectations light, They leap into the dew-spun grass, Then gambol over hill-sides green, And kiss the flowers as they pass. At last they reach the chosen spot; They laugh, they sing, they glide, they sway; They dance ’till tired, then dance again, Quite heedless of the calls of day. “The sun is up! Our hour has gone!” They disappear like winter leaves, And butterflies and birds alone, Are left to guard the day’s gold sheaves. Clelia Mathewes, ’23. ----------o---------- A COLLECTION OF SMILES A NEW DISEASE The girls of today, so the old folks say, Are going to rack and to ruin; They shake their heads in a solemn way, And prophesy, “Trouble’s a-brewin’.” They sigh for the lassie of long ago days, With all her precise views of life; They pity the boy who must spend all his days, With Miss ’22 for a wife. The Scribbler 33 They say it’s a perfectly terrible scourge, Worse, even, than old ’pendicitis, That’s sending the girls to destruction’s verge; They call it “acute Flapperitis.” Lelia Dorothy Doggette, ’23. THE FLORAL ROMANCE Bright Daisy said, “Now, Johnny, jump right up, For Black-Eyed Susan’s gone since four o’clock. Now rush right o’er to Mistress Buttercup, If she’s not there, to Mistress Hollyhock.” Then Tulip called from out her hiding place, And said, “Your Black-Eyed Susan’s just passed by, With Bridal Wreath above her smiling face, Her smile reflected in Sweet William’s eye, While both the lovers looked their very best. Jack-in-the-Pulpit can tell you the rest.” Isabel McCreary, ’23. WHY THE WILLOW WEEPS The Willow droops her pretty head, The reason here I’ll tell: She loved the Oak with all her heart, And thought he loved her well. Throughout the day his love he told In honeyed words of bliss, And pledged his troth to her each day, Then sealed it with a kiss. But one day subtle Ivy climbed Right up into his heart, And with her clinging, fond embrace, Made Oak from Willow part. With broken heart the Willow weeps Through all the blasted years, But cheerful green her sadness hides— She smiles through all her tears. Isabel McCreary, ’23. 34 The Scribbler BACK WHERE SHE STARTED FROM A maiden tried to cross a stream one day, In vain, she wet her dainty little feet. There chanced to pass another one that way, And quickly was the maid, so prim and neat, Transferred across the tiny stream so gay. She look’d upon the man with angry heat, “How dare you be so rude!” did she gainsay. “To help a maid in need I thought was meet.” But thinking he her feelings would allay, Recrossed and gently placed her on her feet. Frances Moore, ’23. TO LIZZIE It seems a year since I left her alone in the Land of the tropics and heat, in the land of the Palms and the cocoanuts. There will she wait for me, Constantly. There will she be when I come for her, Safe by the side of the Cuban shore. Much have I Wanted and needed her, much have I longed for her, Lonely and tired with a day’s walk ahead of me. Oft have I wished for her; then have I sighed for her, What would I give for her, star of my happiness, Oh! how I long for my own little Ford. Maud Duncan, ’23. The Scribbler 35 While his mother was away on a visit, John didn’t say his prayers. Upon his mother’s return there was a reckoning. “Why didn’t you say your prayers, John?” “Well, you see it was this way, Ma. I forgot to say them the first night, and nothin’ happened. An’ I forgot to say them the second night, and nothing happened. So I decided I wouldn’t ever say them again if nothing never happened.” And then something happened.—Selected. WHEN MISS STRIBLING WAS DOUBTFUL Ralph—“Miss Stribling, we’re glad to see you back, but I got a hundred on History while you were gone.” HEARD IN CAMP Officer—“Have you mopped the floor?” Private—“No.” Officer—“No what?” Private—“No mop.”—Selected. PREHISTORIC COOKING “What kind of stoves did the ancients use?” “Why, mountain ranges,”—Selected. Stranger—“Can you tell me which is the other side of the street ?” Boy—“Over yonder.” Stranger—“Why, I asked a man over yonder which it was, and he said it was over here!” 36 The Scribbler I call my mirror Washington because it never lies. Patient—“Why does a small cavity seem large to the tongue ?” Dentist—“Just the natural tendency of the tongue to exaggerate, I suppose.”—Selected. Miss Atkins—“Earl, when do you expect to pass mixing adverbs and prepositions like you have today?’” Earl—“Not until Ralph does.” Miss Atkins—“Take my advice and quit school then.” “Are you in pain, my little man ?” the kind old gentleman asked. “No,” answered the boy, the pain’s in me.”—Selected. Fannye (on a hot day)—“Walk, Mary Louise, that makes you thin.” Mary Louise—“No, sir; the Physics book says that heat makes things expand.” First Man—“What’s weighing on your mind?” Second Man—“You think my mind’s a pair of scales?” First Man—“Well, no; scales are evenly balanced.”—Selected. Ralph—“The Silver Magnet wasn’t successful last year.” Robert—“No, it credited you too much.” I call my report thermometer, because it registers zero. The instructor asked for an example of thrift in animals: Small Boy—“A dog!” Instructor—“A dog?” Small Boy—“Please, sir; when he runs after his tail, he makes both ends meet.”—Selected. Freshie—“I don’t feel well this morning. Soph.—“Where do you feel worst?” Freshie—“In school.”—Selected. The Scribbler 37 John (after Ralph had been hit in the head with a ball)— “Well, it didn’t bust it. A hard head comes in handy sometimes.” I call my garden Freshman, because it is so green. “The surgeon of our regiment was both professional and military in the order he gave the men when he wanted to vaccinate them.” “What was the order?” “Present arms.”—Selected. An inexperienced minister came into a jail one Sunday evening and being rather nervous, he opened his sermon in this way to the crowded convicts behind the bars: “I am so glad to see so many of you here this evening.” I call my exams Caesar, because they came and conquered. Teacher—“Why do you call your dog Camera?” Pupil—“Because he tries to get a snap at everything he meets. —Selected. THE UNDER DOG “Oh, no,” soliloquized Johnny bitterly, “there ain’t any favorites in this family. Oh, no! If I bite my finger nails, I get a rap on my knuckles, but if the baby bites them, everybody thinks it’s cute.”—Selected. Ralph (practicing for the mock faculty meeting)—“How must I look to imitate the janitor?” Robert—“Look natural.” “What’s his chief characteristic?” asked the policeman of the old lady who had been robbed. “A large Roman nose.” “No use to look for him, then. A Roman nose never turns up.”—Selected. 38 The Scribbler “Daddy,” said little George, “I want to marry Granny ?” “Do you, indeed, and do you think I would let you marry my mother ?” “Well, why shouldn’t I ? Didn’t you marry mine ?”—Selected. EGOTISM Miss Stribling—“I don’t know whether it’s the correct railroad or not.” Ralph—“Yes, it is, Miss Stribling, because I told you so.” Grocer—“What was that woman complaining about?” Assistant—“The long wait.” Grocer—“You can’t please some people. Only yesterday, she was complaining about the short weight.”—Selected. The child took a long look at the old man and asked: “Were you in the ark, Grandpa, when the flood came?” “No, certainly not, my child,” replied the old man. “Then, why weren’t you drowned ?” asked the child.—Selected. Offspring—“Yes, Dad, I’m a big gun up here at the university.” Wise Father—“Well, then why don’t I hear better reports?”— Selected. PERSONAL PRONOUNS First Student—“I’m going to sue my English teacher for libel.” Second Student—“What for?” First Student—“He wrote on my English theme, ‘You have bad relatives and antecedants.’ ”—Selected. “What were your father’s last words ?” “Father had no last words. Mother was with him to the end.” Gladys—“How did Milton go blind ?” Maud—“Trying to scan his own poetry, I suppose. “Why are the Freshmen like real estate ?” “They’re a vacant lot.”—Legenda. The Scribbler 39 “Hey, Johnny, feed the stranger’s horse. Give him two ears of popcorn and a bunch of peanuts. Be sure to put them in the loft where he can’t reach them.” Earle—“Ralph, do you know the difference between you and a monkey?” Ralph—“Why, no.” Earle—“I don’t either.” Little Boy—“Mother, are there any men angels in heaven?” Mother—“Why, certainly, dear.” Little Boy—“But, mother, I never saw any pictures of men with whiskers.” Mother—“No, dear, men get in with a close shave.”—Aggie Squib. -------- Little boy—“Father, what makes the blackberries turn from red to black ?” Father—“My son, they must get sunburned.” Miss Stribling (in History)—“I don’t know what finally became of the Know Nothing Party.” John White—“I think they finally came to the eleventh grade.” Prof. Blake (in Physics)—“Be sure to know all about the absolute zero for tomorrow.” Ralph (reminiscently)—“I already know all I want to know about those things.” --------- The widow had the following engraved on her husband’s monument : “Thou are at rest until we meet again.”—Red and Black. Prof. Blake—“Shellac is a poor conductor of electricity.” To Maud, not paying attention. “Maud, what did I say?” Maud—“You said she liked a poor street car conductor.” Patient (who is losing his hair)—“Can’t you give me something to keep it in?” Doc.—“Sure, take the pill box.”—Exchange. 40 The; Scribbler “Why is it that the Freshman and Seniors resemble eggs?” “Because some are fresh and some are hardboiled.” Teacher—“What is the Latin race?” Freshman—“It’s a race between the Latin pony and your goat.” —Selected. Telephone operators should work eight hours a day and sleep eight hours, but not the same eight hours.—Exchange. Some ignorant people think that Henry Ford wrote, “Strut, Miss Lizzie.”—Selected. “There goes the fellow I’m laying for,” said the hen, as the farmer crossed the grass.—Exchange. “Do I bore you ?” asked the mosquito, as he sunk his shaft into a man’s leg. “Not at all,” replied the man, smashing him with a book. “How do I strike you ?” HIGH SCHOOL MENU Freshman—Green beans. Sophomores—Canned cheese. Juniors—Sour pickles. Seniors—Angel food cake. Note.—This was written by a Senior! EXAMS AS WE’D LIKE THEM Who proclaimed the Monroe Doctrine ? What did Sir Isaac Newton see fall from the apple tree? Where is the Gulf of Mexico? What did Columbus discover? What part of a speech is a noun ? For what man was the state of Georgia named? To what office was President Jefferson elected? Give the exact date of the discovery of October 12, 1492? What is the name of the Mississippi river? Where should a preposition not be used at? Out-Going Seniors and Their Teachers The Scribbler 41 STUNT NIGHT BIG SUCCESS Womanless Wedding, Fashion Show, Mock Faculty and Mock Festival On Thursday, May the eighteenth, each grade presented an attraction for “Stunt Night.” The winner of the first prize was the Womanless Wedding, presented by the tenth grade boys. The blushing bride stood six feet high, while the groom was four and one-half feet high. The couple was Roy Gash and Perrin Dargan. The bridesmaids were pictures of loveliness in organdie frocks and picture hats, carrying bouquets of Dorothy Perkins, in newspaper containers. They were Charles Hart and Leroy Dunbar. The groomsmen were Lowry Lindsay and Harry Ellerbe. The trainbearer was Eddings Forbes, dressed in blue organdie. The ringbearer was Philip Barrow, who carried the ring concealed in the heart of a paper lily. The flower girls, carrying miniature baskets of pink petals, were “Gabe” Hill and Fanning Hearon. Next was the Fashion Show, winner of second prize. It was presented by the ninth grade. Styles of 1925 were pictured, from the babies, little boys and girls, flappers, debutantes, and tea hounds, on up to old men and women. The next was the Mock Faculty meeting, carried off by the Seniors. Each teacher portrayed was given a chance to see just exactly how she looks to us. The following teachers were imitated: Dr. Evans.....................James West Prof. Blake....................Earl Koon Mr. Jenkins...................Wylie Bourne Miss Lucas...................Rachel Everett Miss Stribling.......Annie Bowen Miss Arnold...................Grace Hughes Mrs. Paslay..................Verbie Hallman Miss Atkins...................Maude Duncan Mr. Hallman..........John Alexander “Uncle” Bill.........Charles Gould The eighth grade presented a Mock Festival, the symphony concert being most enjoyed. Elizabeth Crews, as Mr. Very Modest Allschooler, directed the orchestra. Selections were rendered by Awful Harold and Mr. Erwin Nitroglicerine. The children’s chorus gave “Sweetly Sings the Donkey,” by Felix Mendelsshon. A cornet solo, by the greatest living cornetist alive, and a flute solo were also very well received by the appreciative audience. The orchestra was the Rushing Sympathy Orchestra from the High School. -------o-------- HIGH SCHOOL GIRLS’ CLUB MEETS SATURDAYS AT Y. W. C. A. No longer do the girls have to envy the boys their Hi-Y Club, for at last 42 The Scribbler we have formed a club of our own, called The High School Club of the Girls’ Reserves. The club was organized as a continuation of the meetings Miss Kinney, of the Billy Sunday party, had with the High School girls. The following are the officers: Esther Byers, President; Alyne Johnson, Vice-President; Fannye Cohen, Secretary; Elizabeth Gooch, Treasurer. Besides these officers there are various committees to carry on the work of the club. The meetings are held once a week, with interesting and original programs Sometimes the meetings are changed to socials, hikes or picnics, with occasional business meetings. The club is under the direction of Miss Polster, of the Y. W. C. A., with Miss Atkins as outside adviser. -------o------- ROTARY CLUB GUESTS OF SCHOOL Domestic Science Department Hostess On April the fourth, Mr. E. T. Ten-nent, president of our board of trustees, and the whole domestic science department acted as host and hostesses to the Rotary Club of Spartanburg. There were sixty-three guests present. The luncheon was served in the study hall, where each place was laid on one of the individual desks. This was a unusual and attractive scene, each guest having an individual table. Those who served were: Carol Boyd, Lucy Allen, Eleanor Brown, Reggie Donkle, Louise Hammond, Alice Peck, Mabel Watkins, Lucy White, Louise Smith, Sally Brown, Frances Hargis, Evelyn Firesheets, Pauline Tarpley, Ruby Proffitt, and Lois Wall. STATE TEACHERS’ MEETING IN COLUMBIA Miss Lucas and Miss Stribling attended the annual State Teachers’ meeting in Columbia recently. They were gone two days, and Mr. Kirkland, of Wofford, and Miss Whisonant, of Converse, substituted in their classes during their absence. ------o------- ALUMNI ENTERTAIN SOCIETY On Monday, April the seventh, the literary society had the pleasure of hearing some of its old members again. Miss Sara Routh played for us, and Miss Kathryn Johnson delighted us with several vocal selections. The music was most enjoyable, but the very fact that our alumni are still interested in the society is indeed an inspiration. ------o------- 9-1 HOSTESS AT LUNCHEON The domestic science class of 9-1 entertained Mr. and Mrs. Tennent, Dr. and Mrs. Evans, Dr. Heinitsh, and Dr. Martin at luncheon on May the tenth. This was the first meal served in the dining room of the new high school. The centerpiece was of scarlet poppies and presented a pretty scene indeed. The following menu was served: Cream of Celery Soup Broiled Steak New Potatoes Creamed Asparagus Tips Biscuit Coffee Tomato Salad Strawberry Shortcake ------o------- On April the eleventh the cooking department of 8-1 had as guests for breakfast Miss Byrd and Miss Allen. Louise Ligon and Alyne Johnson acted as host and hostess. Estelle The Scribbler 43 Cohen and Venus Trakas were guests from the class. On April the eighteenth and nineteenth the ninth grades entertained at luncheon. The class was so large that it was divided. --------o------ SENIOR PARTIES The Latin section of the Senior class entertained at the first Senior party. Mr. Jenkins took charge of the affairs of the evening, and a most enjoyable time was had by all. Each Senior invited a guest and all of the faculty were present. On May the twenty-sixth, the Junior class entertained the entire graduating class at a large reception. Red and black were the prevailing colors in the decorations and school spirit was much in evidence. --------o------ During the last week after the Class Day exercises, which took place on Wednesday night, the Senior banquet was held. The class president, Dorothy Hutto, acted as toastmaster, and the following toasts were given : To Our Past—Mary Louise Dargan. To Our Future—Wiley Bourne. To Our Parents—Annie Bowen. To Our Teachers—Fannye Cohen. To Our Boys—Esther Byers. To Our Girls—John White. Miss Martin supervised the banquet proper, aided by committees from the class. --------o------ SENIOR HALL OF FAME Famous Persons in the Class of ’22 Prettiest Girl—Alice Crutchfield. Best Looking Boy—“Ain’t no sich animal.” Most Lovable—Dorothy Hutto. Most Popular Girl—Esther Byers. Most Popular Boy—Wylie Bourne. Most Stylish—Rachel Everett. Smartest—Verbie Hallman. Biggest Teahound—Frank Hagood. Wittiest—John White. Most Optimistic—Annie Bowen. Most Dignified—Margaret Law. Most Gracious—Fannye Cohen. Biggest Vamp—Gladys Sweeney. Biggest Baby—Marie Littlejohn. Quietest—Amilee Smith. Noisiest—Ada Childress. Stubbornest—John Alexander. Jolliest—Eleanor Jeffries. Daintiest—Alice Crutchfield. Laziest—Peyre Kennedy. “I”—Garland Taylor. “It”—Lucy Creech. Biggest Nut—Grace Hughes. Biggest Monkey—Charles Gould. Biggest Flirt—Gladys Sweeney. Smallest—Maud Duncan. Most Athletic Boy—James West. Biggest Tomboy—Elizabeth Ellerbe. Biggest Flapper—Elizabeth Gooch. Most Attractive—Mary Willard. Wisest—John Alexander. Most Literary—Annie Bowen. Cutest—Maud Duncan. Biggest Suffragette—Mary Louise Dargan. Biggest Bluff—Ralph Fike. Most Original—Rachel Everett. Most Mischievous—Maud Duncan. Most Inquisitive—Mary Louise Dargan. “Pride of the Class”—Burette Til-linghast. Most Unreasonable—The Teachers. -------o------ SENIORS PRESENT PLAY Robin, of Sherwood, by Alfred Noyes The beautiful story of Robin Hood and Maid Marian was presented as a play by the graduating class of ’22, 44 The Scribbler aided by the others from the school. Especially attractive were the group scenes, the fairy scenes, marked by dancing and songs, the band of Merry-men, dressed in Lincoln green, the king’s officers, the sheriff of Not- tingham’s men, and the rustic and serf group. The main characters were: Robin Hood.................John White Little John ...........Fanning Hearon Friar Tuck.......Mary Louise Dargan Will Scarlet...................Elford Morgan Greenleaf.......................Peyre Kennedy Much..............................Bob Wallace Alan-A-Dale........Burette Tillinghast Prince John..............Robert Bates King Richard.....................John Alexander Blondell..............Wiley Bourne Oberon ...............Charles Gould Titania..........................Maud Duncan Puck ..................Judith Cohen Sh eriff........................Liles Creighton Fitzwalter ...............James West Shadow-of-a-Leaf......Gladys Sweeney Queen Elinor.............Esther Byers Maid Marian....................Rachel Everett Jenny.......................Elizabeth Gooch Widow Scarlet..................Fannye Cohen Prioress of Kirklee....Elizabeth Ellerbe ---------o------ ENGAGEMENT ANNOUNCED Mr. Hallman Receiving Congratulations “The State of April the sixteenth carried the following announcement: “Mr. and Mrs. M. S. Williams announce the engagement of their daughter, Lillian, to Elmer B. Hallman, of Spartanburg, the wedding to take place in June.” Although we didn’t even know before what Mr. Hallman’s first name was, we quickly found out that he is the same person referred to above. If our Latin teacher had not been a real sport, he would have been a nervous wreck by now, because everybody has at least once in the last two months asked him and quizzed him about “it all.” The bride is a very attractive young lady whom we do not know so well, as her home is in Columbia. She has been a teacher in the West End School for the past year. -------o------- HIGH SCHOOL MEET IN COLUMBIA S. H. S. Sends Representatives On April the twenty-seventh, eighth and ninth, all of the high schools in the State were represented in a great athletic meet. This is held every year at the University, and the delegates are entertained at the State University itself. Spartanburg was represented in the recitation contest by Fannye Cohen of 11-F; in the declamation contest by Robert Bates of 11-L. These students, accompanied by Miss Atkins, went by train, while the athletic representatives motored through the country, accompanied by Mr. Plallman. The track team was Garland Taylor, Elford Morgan, Fanning Hearon, and Liles Creighton. Miss Atkins’ class was held by Mr. Guy Nelson, and Mr. Hallman’s by Mr. E. C. Kirkland. ------o------- SENIORS HAVE INTERESTING TRIP Visit to Ice House by Physics Class On Thursday, April the fourth, the Physics class under Professor Blake’s guidance, enjoyed a trip through Hal-lett’s ice house. The wonders of making ice were admired and learned. The employees greatly aided our un- The: Scribbler 45 derstanding by their careful explanations of all the processes. After the trip the whole class was weighed, and the total amount was 5,256 pounds. We were all given a pencil as a souvenir, and also refreshments (pure ice) were served. The class was cordially invited back again. -------o------- ESSAY PRIZE FOR SENIORS ONLY The Spartanburg Journal has offered a medal to the student in the eleventh grade who writes the best essay on “Why I Should Go to College.” The essay must contain seven hundred and fifty words. -------o------- Recently Mrs. Paslay, 9-1 class teacher, was forced to miss school on account of illness. This was the first time that Mrs. Paslay missed meeting her classes in her whole career as a teacher. Her classes were taught by Mr. Guy Nelson, of Wofford College. -----------------o------- One Friday night in April the Girls’ Club, three truck loads strong, motored to Anderson’s Mill and enjoyed a wiener roast and picnic, and straw-ride afterward. Miss Polster, Miss Atkins, and Mr. Jenkins accompanied the party. Such a good time was had that all were reluctant to leave and voted to have another such outing soon. -------o------- On May the twenty-third the Block letter men from the different teams held a banquet. The new captains for ’23 were elected and various toasts were given. Miss Martin supervised the meal, which was served by the cooking classes. -------o------- SOCIAL NOTES OF INTEREST Miss Alma Boyd, of Washington, visited Miss Martin and the Domestic Science Department recently. Miss Boyd formerly taught English in S. H. S. Rachel Everett, Margaret Law, Fanning Hearon, and “Gabe” Hill, accompanied by Mr. J. A. Law, have already ventured camping, motoring to Lake Summit for the week-end. Miss Sara Routh entertained in May in honor of Alice Crutchfield, Eleanor Jeffries and Esther Byers. Rebecca Gaffney, Evelyn Dillingham, and Dorothy Harris spent the week-end in Greenville recently. Marguerite Kellette, Clelia Mat-hewes, Ralph Fike, Robert Bates, and Prof. Blake went to Greenville in April, where Clelia and Robert debated the Greenville team. The query was, Resolved, That the tax system of South Carolina should be Revised.” At the same time two young men from Greenville debated against Mary Louise Dargan and John White here. Miss Alyne Johnson, of 10-1, motored to Asheville for the Easter holi days. Glenn Dixon was sick recently for a week and was greatly missed by his classmates of 10-1. 46 The Scribbler I was in despair! My Exchange Department was expected in the next day, and so far I had not been able to think of any way to write it up that was different and original. What a hard lot we poor exchange editors have! Just as I was getting desperate for a way out of my difficulty, I saw two stately Seniors slowly walk by. An idea suddenly came to me. Did I dare ask those all-wise Seniors to help poor me? Summoning all my courage, I dashed out of the house and called to them. They stopped, and, when they had heard my plea, replied with a supercilious lift of the eyebrows that “They supposed they would.” “First,” they informed me, “write down a list of your exchanges.” Anvil—East Chicago, Illinois. Arrow—St. Joseph’s Commercial School, Detroit, Mich. Barton News—Mobile High School, Mobile, Ala. Beacon—Newport News High School, Newport News, Va. Caribbean—Cristobal High School, Cristobal, Canal Zone. Carlisle Bugle—Bamberg, S. C. Crimson Tulip—Whatcom High School, Bellingham, Wash. D. H. S. Porpoise—Daytona High School, Daytona, Fla. Grass Burr—Weatherford, Tex. High School Journal—Wilkes-Barre, Pa. High School Reporter—Francesville, Ind. Hillbilly—Asheville High School, Asheville, N. C. Herman Hi-School Life—Herman, N. Y. Legenda—New London, Conn. Live Wire—Gloucester, Va. Mirror—Norwood, Ohio. The Scribbler 47 Mountaineer—Butte, Mont. Nautilus—Greenville High School, Greenville, S. C. Onas—William Penn Hi-School, Philadelphia, Pa. Pep—Greer High School, Greer, S. C. Peppety-Ep—Tazewell, Va. Pioneer—Hampton, Va. Rensselaer Polytechnic—Troy, N. Y. Red and Black—Tampa, Fla. San Mateo Hi—San Mateo Hi-School, San Mateo, Cal. St. John Bulletin—Darlington, S. C. Tech High Rainbow—Technological Hi-School, Atlanta, Ga. Tech Owl—Westinghouse Technical Night School, Pittsburgh, Pa. Wofford Journal—Wofford College, Spartanburg, S. C. Old Gold and' Purple—Warren Easton Boys’ High School, New Orleans, La. “I wish we could give a complete list of all the exchanges we have received during the year,” I managed to suggest timidly. “How many have you received ?” “Well, we’ve had them from almost every State; several from many States.” “My, do you think you can make the whole Scribbler an exchange list this time? Here’s what we think about these magazines you have here. Take it down.” Acadcmian, Dover, Dela.—“Them Air Boys” was a clever and true-to-life story. The whole paper shows a decided improvement. Crimson Tulip, Bellingham, Wash.—We are glad to welcome you as an exchange. Your paper is brimful of school spirit and enthusiasm. Arrow, Detroit, Mich.—The only fault we found with your excellent magazine is that your literary department is rather weak. Improve this and you will have an A-l magazine. San Mateo Hi, San Mateo, Cal.—We are always glad to get an exchange from sunny California. Congratulations on such a “peppy” paper. Old Gold and Purple, New Orleans, La.—“Laugh and the world laughs with you” must be your motto, for your magazine is certainly a gloom dispeller. Your cuts are fine. 48 The Scribbler Beacon, Newport News, Va.—Your literary department is not up to standard; otherwise you have a very fine paper. Caribbean, Cristobal, Canal Zone—One of the best exchanges we have ever received. “Now, you must put what others think of us next,” they informed me. So I put them down as follows: Scribbler—We see you have a good chance to show the world your art valentine.—D. H. S. Porpoise, Daytona, Fla. Scribbler—Your magazine, as a whole, is splendid. The literary department is especially good, though the athletic department is rather weak. Your exchange is very good, cleverly done and rather unique.—Nautilus, Greenville, S. C. Scribbler—Your magazine contains good stories and has lots of pep.—Scarlet and Gray, Philadelphia, Pa. Scribbler—The striking thing about your magazine is your literary department. It shows you have plenty of school talent. Also, the way you have your exchange written up is original.— Mirror, Norwood, Ohio. Scribbler—We enjoyed your unusually fine paper very much. —Legenda, New London, Conn. Scribbler—One of the best we have received. Your cuts are fine. Exchange department is clever.—Academy Graduate, Newburgh, N. Y. Scribbler—Your literary department is fine. The story “Victory” is especially good. A few more cuts would improve your paper a good deal.—Impressions, Scranton, Pa. “ I think that is all,” I timidly suggested. “Very well, we’ll have to go now,” they replied. As the condescending Seniors moved down the street, I looked at my exchange and thought that they had not really suggested any new way, after all. But then, they were Seniors, and what they say goes. So if this exchange is not original, blame the Seniors and not the poor exchange editor. What a hard life we lead, anyway! Upper-State Basketball Champions Top Row Elmer Habel, Lowry Lindsay, Burette Tillinghast, .lames West, George DePass Second Row—Coach Edward Tillinchast. Frank Haeood. Wiley Bourne. Liles Creighton The Scribbler 49 Coach “Tillie” has again put out a winning team. After our very successful basketball season, he started our boys to work on the diamond-shaped field. We won a majority of the games played, and nearly won the Upper State championship. We licked Hastoc all right. Don’t worry. The following are the players in their different positions: “Skeet” Tillinghast is still holding the catcher position in fine style and hitting the ball at a fast clip. Claude Parks, High’s pitching ace, is going as strong as ever. He keeps them guessing, and makes them break their backs swinging at his fast breaking curve. Along with Claude is Wiley Bourne, who also is turning in some brilliant work in the box. On first base we still see the old familiar picture of “Pee-wee” Kennedy, snatching the ball out of the clouds and digging it out of the daisies. His hard hitting is breaking up a number of ball games. At second base “Dick” Henry and “Gabe” Hill cavort at intervals. They both make good second basemen, so it’s hard for “Tillie” to give the job to either. “Dick’s” hitting is his strongest asset to the team, although his fielding is brilliant also. At shortstop stands Captain Frank Hagood. His spearing of hard-hit balls and deadly throws save our team a lot of trouble. Next to him, at third base, “Pike” West plays his same steady game, and in every game he and Frank get two or three hits. The outfielder is the fastest to be found. “Alex” Fleming in left field, “Red” Habel in center field, and R. B. Trogden in right, make a dandy trio of fly chasers. “Dick” 50 The Scribbler Henry and “Bob” Turnipseed have also played games in the outfield. Great praise is due to the substitutes, the boys who keep the teams in its prime. Although they hardly ever get to play on the varsity, they work hard to keep it going. They get no praise, but they are due more than anybody. Here they are—smile at them: “Ziggie” Gash, outfielder; “Styx” Lindsay, infielder; “Bob” Turnipseed, catcher-outfielder; “Dick” Henry, R. B. Trogden and “Gabe” Hill change from varsity to “scrub.” THE TRACK TEAM Our school was represented in the State High School Track Meet by Liles Creighton, Garland Taylor, and Fanning Hearon. On impromptu notice, these boys started a hard daily grind under the skilled hand of Professor Hallman. In a scant week of practice, they were pretty well fit. Garland threw the discus, Liles and Fanning ran the sprints. All three did very well in the preliminaries, but did not get into the finals. They’ll do better next year, they say, if they have some support from the other fellows. Next year we are going to have an athletic field, so let’s put out a winning track team. We can do it. THOSE WHO ADVERTISE WITH US Bagwell, E. C. Blackburn Service Station Blackburn Sales Co. Biber's Jewelry Store Band White Becker’s Bakery Bijou Theatre Campbell, Miss C. M. Cannon Fetzer Co. Cannon, C. L. Bro. Central National Bank Crosby, Paul E. Dixie Baking Co. DuPre Book Store Elite, The Ezell, Dr. W. C. First National Bank Goldberg’s Clothing Store Greenewald’s Hardy Bros. Harry Brill Electric Co. Heinitsh Drug Store Herring Furniture Co. Henry’s Drug Store Kennedy’s Drug Store Law, A. M. Co, Levite’s Shoe Store Ligon’s Drug Store Magnolia Oil Co. Montgomery Crawford Nissen’s Shoe Store Odom, L. A. Outlook Cloak and Suit Co. Price’s Clothing Store Rex Theatre Skalowski, R. Smith’s Shoe Store Spartan Hardware Co. Standard Cloak Co. Strand Theatre The Silver Magnet Todd Drug Co. Vogel Son. Wingo, J. S. White-Parks-Belk Co. Wilson’s Drug Store Willard’s Filling Station Wright-Scruggs Shoe Co. Y. M. C. A. PATRONIZE THOSE WHO ADVERTISE WITH US What are your boy and girl doing with their spending money and earnings? Do they know the VALUE of money? Do they know that a few dollars SAVED each month will later pay their way through college or start them in business? They SHOULD know—and be trained to SAVE! But do not make the mistake of saving FOR them. Give them an allowance from which they are to BANK a part, and then encourage them to add to it from their OWN earnings. Consider what it would have meant to you if YOUR father had adopted this plan. If you do, there is little doubt but that you will begin now to form in your children THE HABIT OF THRIFT. Central National Bank Spartanburg, S. C. I Pack up your troubles in your “old school bag” and I have a nice dandy lunch of fresh fruit, cakes and candy I and your troubles will become smiles. E. C. BAGWELL i “Quality Groceries” Phones 65 and 66 1 WILSON’S DRUG STORE “The Rexall Store” EVERYTHING IN DRUGS, SODAS, STATIONERY AND TOILET ARTICLES We Are Always Glad to Serve You VISIT SPARTANBURG’S NEWEST SHOE STORE £ei ite’s “It’s a Feat to Fit Feet” 109 W. Main St. WATCH OUR WINDOWS Electrical Work by HARRY BRILL ELECTRIC COMPANY Is the Best to Be Had Do You Know HOW TO KEEP YOUR HANDS FROM CHAPPING Use Heinitsh’s Hygienic Cream and you will then know—CONTAINS NO GREASE HEINITSH DRUG STORE SIXTY-FIVE YEARS IN BUSINESS ON THE SQUARE START RIGHT KEEP RIGHT TRADE AT Ligon’s Drug Store PURE DRUGS, KODAKS AND KODAK SUPPLIES, TOILET ARTICLES AND SEED SEND HER WHITMAN’S SAMPLER—SHE KNOWS THE BEST Beckers Best Bread THE PRIDE OF SPARTANBURG NOTHING WE CANNOT MAKE IN THE LINE OF BREAD AND CAKE BECKER’S BAKERY 146 North Church Street, Retail, Phone 1683 111 Kennedy Place, Wholesale, Phone 888 SPARTANBURG, S. C. Complete Line of BOYS’ CLOTHING —Call at— HARRY PRICE'S CLOTHING STORE 116 East Main Street Phone 237 BLACKBURN SERVICE STATION Gas, Oil Vulcanizing When you need our Trouble Cars Phone 1188-1189 99 Day Day and Night OUR TIRE PRICES CAN NOT BE MATCHED s Phone 547 FOR TROUBLE CAR BLACKBURN SALES CO. 171 W. MAIN STREET +--———----------------- THE DuPRE BOOK STORE Books Stationery and Pictures SPARTANBURG, S. C. I i i________________________________ Standard Cloak Co. READY-TO-WEAR AND MILLINERY We are in a position this season to serve you better than ever. Our new Millinery Department offers a wonderful selection in style and price from $2.95 to $12.75. We Will be Pleased to Have You Call Ladies' Hatter KNOX HATS CROFTS’ HATS Hy-lass Veils Madame Grace Corsets IT PAYS TO TRADE WITH PRESSING WITH HOFFMAN STEAM PRESS PHONE 727 HERRING FURNITURE CO. EVERYTHING FOR THE HOME EXCLUSIVE AGENTS FOR COLUMBIA GRAFONOLAS 157-9 North Church Street Phone 489 A. M. LAW COMPANY STOCKS—BONDS—INSURANCE Allen Law Building Spartanburg, S. C. FINE FOOTWEAR AT NISSEN’S, of Course TODD DRUG COMPANY Pound Paper—Tablets—Box Paper Fountain Pens—Inks of All Kinds CORNER CHURCH AND MAIN STREETS MAKE SMITH’S SHOE STORE YOUR SHOE STORE HARDY BROS. FANCY GROCERIES Agents for “NUNNALLY’S” 123 West Main Street Phones 92 and 93 WILLARD’S FILLING STATION Corner East Main and Converse Streets A GOOD PLACE TO BUY YOUR GAS AND OIL -----------PHONE 1196-- C. L. CANNON BRO. HORSE, COW AND CHICKEN FEED Warehouse: Corner Trade and Commerce Streets PHONE 49 SPECIAL TO HIGH SCHOOL SCHOLARS We allow a special discount on all SPORTING GOODS. We carry the largest line in the State, and are sole agents for D. M. SPORTING GOODS. See us for your baseball supplies. R. SKALOWSKI. 141 East Main Street DR. W. C. EZELL OPTOMETRIST 102 Kennedy Place Spartanburg, S. C. WE EXAMINE EYES AND FIT COMFORTABLE GLASSES FOR UNCOMFORTABLE EYES COMPLIMENTS OF Outlook Cloak and Suit Co. 104 EAST MAIN STREET LATEST IN LADIES’ READY-TO-WEAR VOGEL SON FINE FURNITURE AND RUGS Sellers Kithchen Cabinets 165 North Church Street HENRY’S (Rex Theatre Building) BEST SODAS and ICE CREAM KODAKS and SUPPLIES KODAK FINISHING Just Try Us With Your Next Film TRADE WITH — 8iCv)er ftTagtiet SANDWICHES, CANDY, PEANUTS, FRUITS, ETC. All profits to go to the benefit of athletics THE ELITE j ICE CREAM PARLOR 1 ! 117 E. Main St. SODA—ICE CREAM—CANDIES FRUITS and LUNCHES j I 1 —PREPARED—READY TO SERVE— D-couscakes | AT ALL GOOD GROCERS j Spartanburg's Best Clothing Store GREENEWALD'S INCORPORATED | MONTGOMERY CRAWFORD j HARDWARE, MILL SUPPLIES MACHINERY AND HOUSEHOLD GOODS Spartanburg, - - South Carolina E. H. EVERETT J. W. EVERETT J. F. EVERETT j SPARTAN HARDWARE CO. | Everything to build a home, supply your kitchen, j Housekeeping articles. Tools for your garden and I lawn. A FULL LINE OF HARDWARE ARTICLES 1 ----- ! EVERYTHING FOR YOUR AUTOMOBILES WE INVITE YOU TO LOOK OVER OUR HEATING | AND COOK STOVES ADVERTISING PAYS That’s Why We Advertise With You WE WANT YOUR BUSINESS FOUNTAIN PENS—STATIONERY—FINE CANDIES AND SODAS KENNEDY’S DRUG STORE KENNEDY HAS IT! PHONE 162 FOR SERVICEABLE BOYS’ SUITS THAT COMBINE QUALITY AND STYLE GOLDBERG’S IS THE PLACE Paul E. Croshy | JEWELER 148 East Main Street Spartanburg, S. C. A GET THE HABIT ! VISIT THIS STORE FOR THE BEST IN SHOES AND HOSIERY 1 Wright-Scruggs Shoe Co. Spartanburg, S. C. THE HOME Dr. Frank Crane JIf yon want to save the world, don’t take to the pnlpit—go Home. flf yon want to reform society, don't mount the soap-box—go Home. CfNo movement will move unless it starts in the Home. •I No Reform will reform nnless it originates there. (f No Law will stand unless it is favored there. 4fNo Religion will prosper that is not usable there. JNo Education is of much account that does not include the Home. 1 The real Unit of either Politics or Economics is not the Man, but the Home. MAKE YOUR MONEY HOME AT THE FIRST NATIONAL BANK RESOURCES OVER FOUR MILLION Cents make dollars—Save them. Girls and boys make women and men—Help them. •and a whrre, eaiNTcnt, •fA TAM� u o,