Warrensburg High School - Arrow Yearbook (Warrensburg, MO)

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VfY YAVN QQ44 WVDAQI Q, V 1 wvvv v MW 0 Q ' f' XLLIQ QQNQN MQ W f AN,'b4bfb6a 15115115450 NAA-sf-s xfsnfwxf AN Just now Mrs. Grey is asking about a dress pattern of Mrs. Jones for her little girl. She thinks it is just too stunning, and would be even more so if made of gingham with ruffles around the bottom. The refreshments are being served and there is more noise and confusion than ever. Most of the ladies are begging the receipt of the hostess's new salad, mostly because they had heard it was one put together by Adolph of the Astoria. At last the guests are leaving, and I too go home, thinking of how useless it is for me to go to a bridge party. But of course we all know we talk just because we have a mouth, and after saying so much awe can't help but include something not meant for just the correct place. When I get home and sit by my hearth, and forget all of the noise and talk, it comes to me of how nice it would be to play cards aloneg so before retiring I play a few games of solitaire. A Q ROBERT MAYES. EPITAPH T0 AN UNKNOVVN SENIOR. Here rests his head upon the lap of Earth, A youth to Fortune and to Fame unknown. Fair Science scowled upon his humble birth And Learning scorned to mark him for her own. His pride was endless, and his head much swelledg By eighth hour Nemesis was he harassed. He studied only when he was compelled, I He reached his goal Vtwas all he wishedb, he passed. No farther seek his- failures to disclose, Or draw his merits from- their frail abodeg Alike, in common clay, they both repose. Alas, he knowed not what he thought he knowed! .V . NNY' vvqx, vet... mms., N-. AA AAAA. IAAWAA AAPM AMMW M4 1950 Page Eighty

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vs QQQXQ Rfvgvx fXfXA!X wvvvx 4. s Q4 Rvf Akibffbf-Bfx AvN,VNA as iss N X .ss 25: .1 S9325 X CONVERSATION AS I SBE. IT AT BRIDGE 0W HIHDY UIHGS has YOUI' evening of bridge been utterly ruined by the constant talk of the other players? Maybe you don't notice it, but I do. Looking about the room at a fashionable bridge party one can see' readily many types of conversationalists. Sitting nearby is Mrs. Vincent De Rouge, a widow in the fifties, and the society belle. Without her, the party would be ruined, without a doubt. As she tells of her recent trip to Europe, meeting the Prince of Wales and other no- tables, she waves her graceful hands in beautiful gestures so as to give everyone advantage of viewing her diamonds. In conclusion to her little lecture she studies her,cards for a few minutes, and then passes. She is now ready to commence about her new Perisan rug, and a dozen other things. At the table next to her is Mrs. Rhone, the best dressed woman in the city. Her V topic of conversation is, of course, clothes. With much dignity she tells of her new -t ensemble and her seal coat from Paris. But the worst of it is hefr partner is one of those daring breathtakers. He is now telling of how he took an early morning 2 plunge in Salt Lake every morning before he came here. And he advises all who indulge in such strenuous exercise to eat Sunkist oranges for breakfast. The Smyth'-s have just moved into their new home in the- Country Club district, so everyone by now knows where the sink is and that the baby-grande piano is in the corner with the Jacobean tapestry hanging over it. Table number four boasts the short-story teller who insists, when Mrs. Avon- dale is trying to make four spades, to interest her in a new joke about Pat and Mike. As it happens she doesn't catch the point, but she makes a forced laugh with the rest, and loses her contract in utter dismay. Then there's the icy Mrs. Coolcamp, as silent as a Sphinx. Everyone admires her great scientific playing, however, when especially she makes one of her little slams. But when her partner makes a bad play she storms furiously at him. Then she boasts of how she might have won, had she had another partner. Over in the corner is the old maidish girl just learning how it is done. She 2 cna't grasp the significance of following suit, although Mr. Blanc explains until out of resources, and Mr. Clark takes the task. While the explanation is being given, Mrs. Thatcher goes to sleep in her chair, eliminating one voice. There by the fireplace is a continual hum. Miss Chat is speeling away her ro- mantic affections, hoping they will alight on some handsome bachelor's ears. At Q, the same table is Mrs. Coarse, who makes a cutting remark about some people's 2 tongues being too prolongated. Miss Chat quiets down for a few moments just to Z begin over again, louder and more emotional. p Mr. Rocke is busy relating how he made his last small fortune on the stock market. Rubber-jointed key had slumped, and he grabbed just in time to make the grade. Then Mrs. Rocke, from a nearby table, tells the world that if all men were like her Henry what prosperity we would have. 19 5 o I Page Seventy-nine

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