Upper Arlington High School - Norwester Yearbook (Upper Arlington, OH)

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man, don’t you know who I am? I am Madamoiselle Lois de I’yster Wuich.-t. I his is my companion. Miss E. I). Morris. answered she. Detective Aschinger. looking in the ice box for a clue, found Lowell Buck, a stowaway. Following his nose, he came to a closed door which aroused the suspicions of his keen mind. Opening the door, lie was aghast at the horrible sight. There, on the coal bin sat Lohmeyer, Schenk, and Stukey. working jig-saw puzzles. Crane and Sayers, better known as Aimless and Handy. were being supplied with an appetizing dinner by the chief chef. Johnny W'arfel. Passing into the engine room the detective beheld Jean gden and (leorge Sargent sitting on the safety valves of the boilers. Chasing hotly after another due. Detective Aschinger tripped over Jim Taylor. a deck swab, and landed at the feet of Thelma Cahill and Elizabeth Clark, chorus girls from the big city. The soft tones of Simon’s orchestra with Bill Shank, piccolo player, and Boh Thomas, xylophonist, aided hv the wonderful crooning voice of diaries Schwen-ker. filled the dining room with romantic sweetness. In walked the detective discussing deeply with Hvp I. Danhen. the ship’s mortician, the scarcity of clues in this strange, strange murder case. Finally they sat down at one of the tallies. What can I do for von. sir? said Dorotha Smith, the prettiest waitress on hoard ship. Just as the august detective was about to answer, a red faced man. wearing his hat on the hack of his head, and whistling a tune, breezed over and saluted him. saying. Well old pal. how st hoy? Cot any headline stuff on that Ewing murder case? o? well, that’s too had. If you get anything, don't forget your old friend. Jack Devanev. Don’t worry, that dub won't get a thing hut bruises on the nose. rejoined Ded Dutfee. a professional card shark, “Sav. detective, suppose you and I shuttle the dominoes a hit. We'll go into the card room. Shlilih!” said Throckmorton Aschinger. I think I see a clue. Stooping down, he crawled silently over to a little table in the corner, where a very matronly woman was sitting. Did VOL' murder Betty Ewing? he whispered in her ear. Indeed! replied Ruth Knoderer. you have the wrong person. I am matron of an orphans' home. Very well. Mr. Dutfee. I am tired of clues. Let us play cards. said the detective, resignedly. The combined chatter of a dozen voices greeted them from the card room. The ladies were having a bridge party. If one had wished to look in. he might have seen Margaret Brown. Bonnie Stoltz. Martha McKinney. Julia Hamlin, Marv Garvin. Mildred Dillow. Mary Lou Fowler. Mary Alice Shaffer. Anne Stellhoni, Vine Turner. Mary Radicke. Evelyn Carter and Ruth Balthaser engaged in a most enthralling game of bridge. Well. said Mr. Dutfee. since we can’t play cards, suppose we stroll along the decks? Walking along in deep study. Mr. Throckmorton Aschinger viewed the mingled scenes. ()n one side were Anne Scott and Lucille Cox. members of an artists’ colony : on the other, Margaret Kromer. now Mrs. Sargent. 11 ere the face of Wayne Denbow, the champion shuffle hoard player of the world; there, that of David Eolkerth. a retired dog catcher, caught his eyes. Was one of these the murderer? How could it he! As lie walked a little farther, he saw a man. aside from the rest, muttering to himself. Well. said the figure. what did she want to follow me for? Doesn’t she know that if I am to he a big game hunter. I can’t have her tagging around after me in the jungles? Imagine m embarrassment when I meet other big game hunters. h well, maybe it was for the best. though Belt) wasn't bad. Alirumph. said Throckmorton. You are the murderer! Bill) Snyder looked around at the detective, gave one startled scream and jumped off the boat. It need not lie said that lie was never seen again. Page Seventeen

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SENIOR CLASS PROPHECY (Extract from the Tri-Village News) June 15, 1955—United Press Tin-: I’xloi r: ix Parties Baron Vlodivosky Simolean Von Howe, in celebration of his marriage to Madamoiselle I'umnie de la Terre Carter, his third wife, brings forth the uni |ue in honeymoons hv chartering the steamer “Norwester” of the Anderson and Mason lines for a round the world cruise. His guest list is composed of that famous class of nineteen hundred thirty-three. the flower of the Middle West. Mr. L. I). Osborne, famous Danseur, who shook Broadway with his adagio dancing, will conduct the entertainment on the ship which is in charge of Captain Jones. It was a rainy, drizzling night in June. Long rows of wharf lights lit up the great hulk of the ship, snuggled close to the wooden pier. At the head of the gangplank stood the first mate. Mr. Durrant, calmly awaiting the arrival of the passengers. Shrouded in wet furs. Miss Donaldine Morgan, once a mere manicure girl who worked her way up to the management of one of New York’s finest dress shops, minced up the gangplank to he greeted by the ever patronizing Mr. Spandau. second mate. Close upon her heels followed Texas Tripp, the hard boiled night club lady, dragging by the ear her little husband. S. L. Devine, the eminent cartoonist. Slowly the guests disappeared: trunks were pitched into yawning holes; the wharf emptied. Pack in a dim corner, away from the glare of lights, a feeble old man with bent body faintly called out, Apples! Apples for a nickel! Help a starving man. His cries were so pitiful that Dr. Gillespie stepped over to buy an apple. Paul Millikin! he gasped. Yes. trembled Paul, the forgotten man! The following days were gay ones. The sun shone down on the merry guests, who were talking about old times. There was but one lacking among them, Carl Palmer. Poor Im v, he died of rickets. You know lie never was a very strong lad. Iisj ed Jane Mylander. the famous actress who co-starred with Perry Clark so often. Murder! Murder! Murder! The cry resounded down the long deckways. through the large rooms. People whispered in hushed tones; eyes rolled, suspiciously settling on strangers. The passengers, a beehive of anxiety, centered around the nervous and startled Jane Shawaker. a stewardess. I went in to serve her meal, and there she lay. right across the couch, dead. she said. Betty Ewing! the star tennis champion! W hy couldn't it have been someone else? Stop! bellowed a large man with a hawklike face, I'll attend to this. And pray tell just who are you? sneered Captain Jones. Carl .Whinger, the great detective. lie haughtily replied. Awful silence reigned. The people had confidence in tin- great .Whinger. Harumph!—the first thing 1 shall do is to find the names ami occupations of some of you people. W ho are you? he said, pointing to a middle aged lady, with flaming hair. Mv name is Miss Pfening. I write poetry. she retorted. And who are you? lie bellowed, looking sternly at a man with greying hair. I. sir. am Attorney Harmon, and this is my client, Hugh Miller, accused of swindling. And you! he shouted, wheeling around and pointing an accusing linger. dignified gentleman answered. I resent being jMiinted out! Mv name is Mr. P. I. Wood and 1 am president of the National Rotarian Club. The eminent detective slipped across the deck and clapped his hand on a lady wearing a lorgnette and carrying a lap dog, saying. Do you know who committed this murder? Who are you and your companion? My dealt Page SiOeen

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CLASS POEM iraduation day. glorious day! We leave but to begin A new leaf in the book of life, To read as we run again. We leave Arlington Nigh behind. ()ur play, our work, our friends. To weave dreams anew in fields Where achievement never ends. But each of us is leaving with Head high and a courageous heart. For we know our class has given us Life's richer, fuller start. It is not with joy and not with sorrow That we leave our school today, But with hopeful contemplation We take our separate way.