Weatherwax High School - Quinault Yearbook (Aberdeen, WA)

Text from Pages 1 - 160 of the 1913 volume:

i 0 ABERDEEN PRINTING COMPANY ($atntaalt Senior Clana Annual ii IF” (By Rudyard Kipling; If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you; If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you. But make allowance for their doubting too. If you can wait and not be tired by waiting Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies. Or being hated, don’t give up to hating. And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise If you can dream—and not make your dreams your master; If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim. If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same: If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken Twisted by Knaves to make a trap for fools. Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools; If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose and start again at your beginnings And never breath a word about your loss: If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on Avhen there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!’ If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue. Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch. If neither foes or loving friends can hurt you If all men count with you, but none too much: If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run, Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it And—what is more—you’ll be a Man, my son! □ JIBlr--.......................................................................- ■ ngeiBli =H[o1fc m tx INDEX Quiniault Poem “If ...............2 Dedication ........................4 Faculty ...........................5 Seniors ...........................6 Juniors ..........................21 Sophomores .......................25 Freshmen .........................29 Editorial ........................33 Student Body .....................37 Literary .........................39 Exchanges ........................82 The Aberdeen High School .........84 Athletics ........................87 Debate—Dramatics .................99 School Notes ....................104 Aberdeen Public Schools .........105 Society .........................106 Music ...........................107 Alumni ..........................108 Wearers of the “A ..............109 The Ocean Breeze ................110 Literary—Continued ..............Ill Locals ..........................117 Brickbats .......................126 Advertising .....................127 4 Q tt t N 1 A U L T TO ONE WHO HAS BEEN SO INFLUENTIAL AND HELPFUL IN MAINTAINING A HIGH STANDARD OF LITERARY MATERIAL IN OUR HIGH SCHOOL PERIODICALS, WE RESPECTFULLY DEDICATE THIS VOLUME; MISS RUTH A. FOGLE THE FACULTY Arthur Wilson, Geo. B. Miller, Worth McClure, H. E. Holmquest, Ruth A. Fogle, W. A. King, L. J. Condlt, H. A. Crissey, A. R. Cavanaugh, Ira Stineman, Ora Howard, Geo. E. Huntley, E. K. Meredith, Goldie Eagles, Lucretia Rodell SENIOR CLASS OF 1913 A Q U t N 1 A H f INGRAM CHAMBERLAIN—Genera’ Course; Class President 1911-1912. 1912-1913; Associate Managing Editor Quiniault 1913; Class Editor 1910-1911-Ass’t. Circulation Manager Ocean Breeze 1911; Athletic Ball Committee 1912; Circulation Manager Ocean Breeze 1911-1912; Locals Editor Junior Issue 1912; Exchange and Locals Editor of Ocean Breeze and Quiniault 1912-1913; Ocean Breeze Board of Control 1912; Athletic Association Executive Committee 1910; Ocean Breeze Supper Committee 1912-‘For Old Yale” Cast 1913; Ocarine Quartet 1913. WALTER HUTTULA—College Pre ara'ory Course; School notes Editor 1911-1912; Locals Editor 1911-1912: Advertising Manager of Junior Issue, 1912. Quiniault Staff 1912; Advertis ing manager of Ocean Breeze 1913-Advertising Manager of Quiniault 1913; Vice President of Senior Class of 1913; ‘‘For Old Yale’ cast 1913: Class Track Team 1912; Class Basket Ball Team, 1913; Member of A II. C. S. Ocarine Quartet” 1913. HELEN M. AUSTIN—College Preparatory Course; Girl’s Basket Ball Team 1911-1912-1913; Secretary of Class of 1912-1913; Member of Nominating Board of the Student Bodv 1Q,3; Member of For Old Yale” Cast 1913. WILLIAM HUDSON—Manual Arts Course; Class Basket Ball Team 1909; Class Base Ball Team 1910; A H. S. Base Ball Team 1910; A. A. Ball Committee 1912; A. A. Executive Committee 1912; Manager or Class Play. “For Old Yale’’ 1913; Quiniault Staff Photographer 1913; Class Basket Ball Team 1913; Vice-President Student Body 1913; Ocean Breeze Dinner Committee 1911. SENIOR CLASS OFFICERS Q U t N I A U L T CYRIA ALLEN—Classical Course. Class Secretary 1909-1910; Junior Correspondent to Ocean Breeze and Quiniault 1911-1912; A. H. S. Debat ing Team 1910-1911-1912; Girl’s Basket Ball Team 1911-1912; Exchange Editor of Junior Issue 1912; Ocean Breeze Dinner Committee 1912; Sen ior correspondent to Quiniault 1913-Manager of Girl's Basket Ball Team 1913; Dual Debating Team 1913; Associate Editor to Ocean Breeze and Quiniault 1912-1913. HARRY ADAMS—Scientific Course; President of Student Body 1913; Class Basket Ball 1912; Class Track Team 1912-1913; Member of Ocean Breeze Board of Control 1913; A. H. S. Track Team 1912-1913; basket Ball Team 1912; Captain of Basket Ball Team 1913; Ocean Breeze Staff 1913; Quini ault Staff 1913; Tieasurer of A. A. 191.3; Senior Ball Committee 1913; Member of “For Old Yale” Cast 1913; Completed Course m Three and One half years. CLAIRE BRUCE — Commercial Course; Completed in Three and One-Half Years. VICTOR BURT—College Prepara tory Course; Class Basket Ball 1910 1911- 1912-1913; Second Football Team 1909-1910; A. H. S. Football Team 1912- 1913; Basket Ball Team 1912-1913; Captain Basket Ball 1912; Cap tain Class Track Team 1913; “Strong heart” cast 1912; “For Old Yale” cast 1913; Treasurer A. A. 1912; Pres ident A. A. 1913; Athletic Ball Committee 1912; Senior Ball Committee 1913. QUINIAULt 10 HORACE LOCKWOOD COOK—Lit erary Course; Vice President of the Parthenomian Literary Society 1912, Member of Board of Control 1912; Exchange Editor of Ocean Breeze 19111-912; Editor of Ocean Breeze 1912-1913; Debating Team 1913; Win ner of Local Declamatory Contest 1913; Representative in Chehalis County Declamatory Contest 1913; Completed in Three and One-half Years. WINNIFRED COATS — General Course; Class Secretary 1911; Member of “For Old Yale’ Cast 1913; Staff of Junior Issue of 1912; Senior Ball Committee 1913. SYLVESTER DAMITIO—Classical Course; Associate Editor of Junior issue 1912; President of Student Body 1912; Member of Executive Committee 1912; Class Track Team 1912; Class Notes Editor Ocean Breeze 1912; Completed in Three and one half years. OLIVETTA FAULKNER—Literary Course; President of Class 1909-1910, Athletic Dinner Committee 1909; Secretary A. A. 1911; Ocean Breeze Dinner Committee 1910-1912; Athletic Ball Committee 1911-1912; Senior Ball Committee 1913; Quiniault Staff 1913; “For Old Yale” cast 1913. Q U I N I A U L T 11 DOROTHY GIRTON — Scientific Course; Staff of Junior Issue of 1912; Staff of Ocean Breeze and Quiniauli 1913; Secretary of Assemblies 1913; Cast “For Old Yale ' 1913. CHESTER GILBREATH—General Course; Got 85 in Penmanship and Spelling 1911. CLARENCE GARRISON—General Course; “For Old Yale” cast 1913; Sargeant-at-arms of Class 1913; As sistant Advertising Manager of Quini-ault 1913; completed in three and one half years. HELEN GLEASON — General Course; Entered A. H. S. 1912. 12 QUINIAULT ZOLA EMILY GARNER—General Course. FRANK D. HOBI—Classical Course-Entered A. H. S. 1912; Class Basket Ball Team 1913; A. H. S. Track Team 1913; Quiniault Athletic Editor 1913; Vice President of A. A. S. 1913. BEATRICE McKENNA—General Course; Entered A. H. S. 1911; Ocean Breeze Dinner Committee 1911; Vice President of Class 1911-1912; Girl’s class Basket Ball Team 1912; Ocean Breeze Dinner Committee 1912; Locals Editor Ocean Breeze 1913; Member of “For Old Yale’’ Cast 1913; Senior Ball Committee 1913; Locals Editor Quiniault 1913; Junior Issue Staff 1912. ELIZABETH MORGAN—Classical Course; Vice-President of Class 1911; A. H. S. Basket Ball Team 1912-1913; Captain of Girls’ Basket Ball Team 1912; Society Editor of Ocean Breeze 1912; Junior Staff 1912; Literary Editor Ocean Breeze 1912-1913; Captain of Girls’ Basket Ball Team 1913; Ocean Breeze Board of Control 1913; Member of “For Old Yale” Cast 1913; Secretary of A. A. 1913; Literary Editor, Quiniault, 1913. QUINIAULT 13 EDWARD MIDDLETON—General Course; Treasurer of Class 1912; Junior Prom Committee 1912. LULU MOREHEAD — Scientific-Course. RAY W. McKENNA—Scientific Course; Entered A. H. S. 1911; Ocean Breeze Staff 1911-1912; Financial Manager of Junior Prom Committee 19i2, Member of “Strongheart” Cast 1912; Business Manager of Junior Issue of Ocean Breeze 1912; Chairman of Ocean Breeze Board of Control 1913: Member of “For Old Yale” Cast 1913. GRACE A. PROCTOR—Classical Course; Secretary of Class of 1911 1912; Secretary of A. A. M. 1912: Staff of Junior Issue 1912; Member of Nominating Board of Student Body 1913; Member of School Archestra. 1913. 14 QUINIAULT FRANCES PAINE — Classical Course; Freshmen Correspondent of Ocean Breeze, 1910; Athletic Ball 1910; Athletic Dinner 1911; Junior Prom Committee 1912; Elected Editor of Ocean Breeze 1912; Athletic Ball Committee 1912; A. A. R. Execu tive Committee 1913. CARROLL REDEKER — General Course 1912; Advertising Manager of Ocean Breeze 1911-1912; Class Track Team 1912; Boosters Club 1912; High School Quartet 1913; Member of “For Old Yale” Cast 1913; Class Sargent-at-Arms 1911-1912; Member of Ocar-ine Quartet; Entered A. H. S. 1911; Associate Advertising Manager Quini-ault, 1913. EDITH MAE ROSENBURG—Commercial Course; Entered 1911. CLYDE SPENCER — General Course; Editor of the Junior Issue of the Ocean Breeze 1912; Prize Essay Winner of 1912 Quiniault; Organizer of High Scliol Orchestra 1913; Music Editor of Ocean Breeze 1912; Associate Editor of Ocean Breeze 1913: Associate Managing Editor of Quini ault 1913; Member of High School Ocarine Quartet.. Q tJ t N t A U L T 16 ADELE WILCOX—Classical Course Girls Basket Ball 1912-1913. Junior Prom Committee, 1912; Class Basket Ball, 1912-1913. INEZ YOUNG—General Course. JOZEF ZELASKO—General Course; Treasurer of Parthenomian Literary Society 1912; Treasurer of A. H. S. Athletic Association 1912; Member of “For Old Yale” Cast 1913. STANLEY ZELASKO—Commercial Course; Baseball 1911; Manage of A. H. S. Baseball Team 1912; Indoor Track 1912; Boosters Club 1912; Athletic Ball Committee 1912; Yell Leader 1913; “For Old Yale” Cast 1913; “Merchant of Venice” Cast 1910. THE CLASS OF 1913 AS FRESHMEN THE CLASS OF 1913 AS SOPHOMORES 18 QtJINIAULT Senior Class History LASS of 1913! As graduates we look back over the past four with regret and pride—regret for the things which we did not accomplish and pride in the many undertakings which we completed so creditably. We are told that we are standing on the threshold, that life for us is just beginning. Some have completed their school education and will soon mingle in the business of the world, while others, we hope a great many, will continue their studies in th' various colleges and universities. We will soon be expected to prove ourselves and make use of the knowledge we have gained. Although, according to ancient superstition, we have been laboring for four years under the ban raf the hoodoo “13.” results would seem to show that this was our lucky number. The class of ’13 has been prominent in all lines of school activities, athletics, oratory, debate, and dramatics, from the time when they entered the old High school on the hill as green Freshies. One bright {September day in the year of 1909, the upper classmen saw groups of giggling, bewildered youngsters wandering about the halls looking for the Freshman room. After the usual remarks about “green freshies” they promptly forgot our existence except when some belated Freshman rushed absent-mindedly into the .wrong class and furnished a welcome diversion. But.'tf'hefi the basketball season began and the dignified Seniors atul haughty Juniors went down to defeat before the despised little Freshies; they woke up and ruefully watched us triumphantly carry off the-.class championship. Ira Blackwell, who was also on the football b tm and Stanley DeLosh represented the class of ’13 on the A. H. S. basketball team. Naturally, the history of our first year in High school is Hot lengthy but before we narrate the events of the following Vear of ' ysdom we should mention the Freshman picnic. As Sophomores our wisdom was recognized and our conscientious teachers could not but give us marks which put us at the head of the list of classes in scholarship. Not. confining ourselves to the studious side alone, we Wejfe found- in all 'lines of school activities. Pennoyer. Anderson and Blackwell were bur contributions to the state championship football team. Blackwell was considered the star fullback of the state. While not coming out in the lead, the Sophs put up a good fight for the class basketball championship, Victor Burt, Bond Rupert and Ira Blackwell playing especially well. Cyria Allen represented the Sophomores oil the High school deluding team. A large hayrack was the conveyance which transported the jolly Sophs to a pretty spot on the W.ynooche river for their class picnic. Montesano was visited by several bunches of picnicers and many exciting adventures were experienced. Our Junior year was most successful. Burt and Blackwell were mainstays on both the football and basketball teams. The Junior Prom under competent management, was one of the most successful social events of the year. The K. of P. hall was beautifully decorated and a large crowd attended, makiog it a financial as well as a social success. QUINIAULT 19 We contributed largely to the “Ocean Breeze” and when the time came to get out the Junior Issue, with Clyde Spencer as Editor, we tcrned out. a very creditable number. The Juniors, as is the custom, entertained for the Seniors late in May. The old Gym was decorated with greens and Japanese lanterns and an enjoyable evening was spent in dancing. Together with the Sophomores, we journeyed to the north jetty for the crowning event of the year, our class picnic. Boat rides, trips to the beach, a ride over the jetty and numerous sports were enthusiastically enjoyed by everyone. North Beach was proclaimed an ideal place for a picnic. We must not forget to mention the Junior members of the girls basketball team. Four members, Adele Wilcox and Cyria Allen as forwards, and Helen Austin and Elizabeth Morgan as centers, came from our class. The voices of the Juniors were also prominent and frequently heard in the Parthenonian Literary Society. Walter Huttula, Clyde Spencer and Sylvester Damitio proved themselves staunch and worthy supporters of Debs and his doctrines. Again, Cyria Allen was a member of the A. H. S. debating team. Seniors! We entered on the home stretch resolved to make the most of the one short year left us. The football and basketball teams held veteran Senior players. The indoor and outdoor interclass track meets held in April, were won by the Seniors. The girl’s basketball team retained the same ’13 members who won A’s in the Junior year. Under the editorship of Horace Cook, the “Ocean Breeze” has had a very successful year. We are extremely proud of the record we made in putting on “For Old Yale.” the Senior play. With only ten day’s practice, the cast gave a fine performance at the Grand before a good sized audience. Over fifty dollars were cleared, for which a great deal of credit is due Will Hudson, the business manager. Horace Cook represented Aberdeen in the County Declamatory Contest with “Spartacus to the Gladiators.” Horace and Cyria Allen debated in the dual debates with Olympia. The year is practically completed and soon we will no more be rushing to the old Hi at morning and noon and walking home at night with a pile of books over which to groan and rack our brains in the evening. As the time draws near for us to step out and yield our places to others, we realize more and more that an important period of our lives is ended. We look forward with pleasure to the new duties and pleasures before us but we wish at times that we could live over again the past four vears in the dear old Hi. Next September, when our old schoolmates are returning to take up another’s year’s work, how we will wish that we could go back and receive our pile of books and take our old seats in the different classrooms! We will lock up the last four years in our memories and go on fulfilling each duty as it comes to the best of our ability. “Not many lives, but only one have we; One, only one, How sacred should that one life ever be— Day after day filled up with blessed toil, Hour after hour still bringing in new spoil!” CYRIA ALLEN. 20 QUINIAULT AN A. H. S. TIME TABLE 8:00—Brewery whistle blows. McKenna stirs. 8:15—“Goody” arises. 8:17—Halferty’s alarm clock rings. 8:26—Bill meets P. Paine on the corner. 8:29—Jam in the lockers. 8:29Vo—Training for track candidates. 8:30—Fun commences. 8:32—McKenna still struggling with his collar. 8:35—Mr. Miller holds chorus—“The clock was slow.” 8:38—Huttala engrossed in Socialistic confab on the corner. 8:55—Ed. Middleton dozing softly in the back seat. 9:10—End of first period. “Coot” meets Florence. 9:15—Mr. King talks for a time. “Innetz” makes one of her brilliant recitations, “I dunno.” 9:40—Huttala discusses the fourth dimension in Algebra III. 9:55—Uninterrupted bliss at last reigns. 10:00—End of second. “Coot” meets Florence. Chester passes his missive to Martha G. 10:05—Twenty-five unfortunates eorraled in Civics. 10:10—Gnawing pangs of hunger assail the breakfastless. 10:25—Delicious odors ooze from the Domestic Science room. More torture for the breakfastless. 10:54—“Solvav,” alias Spencer, experiments in Chemistry to see whether phosphorus burns or not. 10:55—Malodorous smoke fills the chemistry room. “Solvav” is ejected. 11:07—Hunger increases. 11:10—Abject torture going on in Mr. Miller’s Alg. U 2 class. 11:13—Garrison “borrows” a test-tube. 11:26—Fragrant fumes of H. S. add to the pleasantness of the Chemistry class. 11:30—End of fourth. “Coot” meets Florence. 11:34—Awful noise comes from Assembly room. Chorus period. 11:40—Continued raving from chorus. Sewing circle in the office. 11:55—Relief. 12:00—Merciless massacre of cream-rolls, buns and Panama creams. Ced toils up the hill. 12:15-40—Paradise. 12:50—Reception on the west wall. F. Douglas gets frivolous. 12:59—More sprinting practice. 1:00—More fun. 1:05—Resumed agony. 1:15—Untold wonders accomplished in Physics lab. 1:20—Huttula arrives puffing after Socialist confab. No. 2. 1:45—End of sixth. “Coot” meets Florence. 2:30—End of the seventh. “Coot” meets Florence. 2:31—A few of the prisoners set free. 2:50—Spencer and his ’Cello rave in the Assembly Hall. 3:10—Exodus. 22 QUINIAULT X v' Junior Officers Edward Willikson President Homer Cross Fred Freeman Vice-President Secretary Junior Class Roll Mac Maurice T reasurer WALTER PERSSON GORDON SPOON CLIFFORD SELBERG EDWARD WILLIKSON FLOYD VAMMEN HAROLD MOULTON MARSHALL REID HERBERT CREECH james McDonald FRED FREEMAN VICTOR HUGO HAROLD SPOON ELMER PETERSON WILDER CARTER MAC MAURICE GARDNER SMITH RALPH INGEBRIGTSEN THEODORE FAULK FRED HEMPHILL CECIL JOHNSON WESLEY SCHUMAKER CARL WEATHERWAX ELLEN SEMMENS FLORENCE DePUTE HELEN WILSON LORENCE LINN AMELIA CHRISTIE MERTICE TOWNE HATTIE ANDERSON MABEL ANDERSON GLADYS DRAPER BEULAH MAY ELIZABETH MORGAN MARY JOHNSTON SARAH MIDDLETON CLAIRE CARTER FLORENCE MINER DOROTHY PEARSON MARGUERITE THOMPSON MADELINE HARRISON MAMIE HANSON HELEN HARRIS ESTHER AXLAND JEAN CANBY ROSALINE BRACHVOGEL FLORENCE HOOK MARJORIE GREENE LINDA NELSON Class Colors—Green and White. dnoao aoiNnr 24 QUINIAULT Junior Class History ESPITB the fact that the virtues, ability, and talents of the Juniors have been summarized numerous times, the writer is compelled to chronicle a few of the brave accomplishments of the class from its first appearance in High School through its present state of Juniorism. Three years of enthusiastic perseverance and whole-souled endeavor have taken their exit, since the J. M. Weatherwax High School received through its portals its first Freshmen. We were that “bright” and promising aggregation. For the first few days we were visited with the customary afflictions—namely, painful timidity; entrance into wrong class rooms; amused tolerance and even ridicule from giggling Sophomores, scoffing Juniors, and haughty disdainful Seniors. The monotony of the ordinary routine was broken by the first annual class picnic; the time, place, and manner of conveyance being decided on after several exciting class meetings. At the end of the year, through our record for Freshman ability, we had won for ourselves a firmly established foothold in the estimation of teachers and upper classmen—and an indisputable right to be considered an integral part of the “A. IT. S.” Thus we ended the first lap of our High School course, strengthened with confidence in our selves, and filled with high aspirations and ambitions to finish our course with ever-increasing merit. According to chronological order, football comes first in the athletic routine. We were well represented on the gridiron, inasmuch as on the first team, there were more representatives from the Sophomore class than from any other class. Nor were our efforts in basketball less worthy of mention than in football. The able playing of our team under the captaincy of Homer Cross resulted in securing for us second place in the interclass basketball combats of that year. Laurels were won by the Sophomores in track work, which is a matter of great pride to the class of ’14. On the gridiron again by far the majority of the squad were Juniors. The class made its first class party which was held at the home of Homer Cross. The Junior Prom, was held Jan. 31, and proved a success both socially and financially. Bravely was the basketball championship won and a trophy of a pennant awarded the class. The year is nearing to its completion and we shall be high and mighty Seniors, and then it will fall to onr lot to be leaders in school activities. Already many present Juniors may be observed assuming an added dignity and a greater sense of responsibility. 26 QUINIAULT Sophomore Officers Marie OlHare Joe Keith Minnie Mapes Florence Kolts President Vice-President Secretary Treasurer Sophomore Class Roll AMELIA PEARSON JENNIE IVANA MARY HEKKILA OLGA LEMPIE AURVILLA MacGREGOR RURY JOHNSON FLORENCE KOLTS FRANCES DOUGLAS MARIE O’HARE MINNIE PENN RENA MILETTE TREASURE JOHNSON HELENA ELWAY AGNES THOMPSON NEVA BELL CELIA CAHM MARCIA PECKHAM MINNIE MAPES ANNA SCHEFER MABEL GROVES RUTH LOCKE ELLEN GYLLAND RUPERT GARRISON WILL LANDERS CLARENCE BERGER JOE KIETH GUY MORGAN RAYMOND VASBINDER EDWIN WISON HAROLD INGERRIGTSEN FRANK HEKKILA OSCAR MADISON EDWARD HOLMER ARTHUR ANDERSON ARDEN WALKER SOPHOMORE GROUP 28 QUINIAULT Sophomore Class History Sophomore history for this year must, be something of a m noton:.us propositi n. On more than one occasion have vve commenced with the intention of writing the his tory, but every time we found that there was far from sufficient material on which to base a good biography of ourselves. As far as the Sophomore’s share of the athletic field is concerned we would like to have nothing to say. With regret do we say this; but we feel that since it is our duty 1o write the history consisting of criticisms as well as the favorable comments, we are obliged to write not an altogether complimentary his-lory. The boys are dormant, if we may be permitted to use this expression. Dormant as far as an athletic atmosphere is concerned; bur in the light of learning they, of course, shine brilliantly with full force. In the track meet, not a boy was seen representing the class of ’15. This may be accounted for because of the very small number of boys to pick from. The boys’ basketball team practically fell into oblivion during the class games. The girls gave freely in the purchasing of the “jersies for the team but were somewhat disappointed when the team played so miserably. Although practically all interest has been lost in the athletic field, much expression has been put on the Class Literary Society. A meeting was held April 30th and an excellent, well rendered program was arranged by the program committee. The Sophomores should devote themselves more to this particular kind of work and overcome the pitiful athletic spirit. The class officers at present are: Marie O’llare. president; Joe Keith, vice president; Florence Kelts, treasurer; Minnie Mapes, secretary, and Guy Morgan, sergeant-at-arms. They are all worthy of their positions, and really fill them with the dignity necessary for such. A meeting was recently held to discuss matters in connection with a class party but nothing of importance was decided. The picnic will probably be held in co-operation with the Seniors. Our Sophomore year is almost at a close and we sincerely hope that the remaining years will record more athletic honors and other worthy deeds of the Sophomore class. 30 Q U I N I A U L f Freshmen Officers Ursula Herman President Robert Campbell Douglas McKenna Ruth Waller Vice-President Secretary Treasurer Freshmen Class Roll JOE PENN ELIZABETH GREENE INA AVEN CECIL TURK KATHLEEN GRAHAM GUS ADAMS LOIS YOUNG IRENE CRARY IMA HOGAN ALBERT KINSELL MARY BOWES DOUGLASS McKENNA PHILIP HALFERTY MARIE GARMAN WINNIFRED PAINE SUSAN GREEN URSULA HERMANN DOROTHY BOUTYETTE RUTH WALLER EUGENE POTTER GEORGE ARNOLD RAY DAHL HENRY ANDERSON PERCY BOUTYETTE THOMAS O’HARE ALFRED HOLLAND DEWEY WILSON RICHARD HOOK EDWIN HOBI HELEN DWYER JULIA MADISON LILLIAN MACKEY RUTH LINDSTROM JULIA REMMELMEYER HINMAN HARRIS EDWARD YODER LALA GUY WILLIAM WORDEN DOROTHY SAVAGE HILMA MARKKULA ADDIE McJILTON PAULINE LAMPIE ANNA MUELLER ELLA OLSON ANNA JOHNSON EDNA FAGREUS EMMA GRADL KATHERINE MOYER RUBY RUDDY MILDRED GERHARDT VELMA FULMER MARGUERITE LOOMIS CARL LINDSTROM LAWRENCE HOPKINSON RICHARD HUTTULA AUGUST IVANA RALPH VAMMAN EDDIE HEIKKALA JOE ANTITS FRESHMEN GROUP 32 QUINIAULT Freshmen Class History Freshmen of 1916 entered the Aberdeen High School l Sept. 3, 1912, with a class of 42 members, each ready do his part in making the class a credit to the school, ke all other Freshmen classes we were inclined to be little “green” but somehow managed to live through e first month. In October the class held a meeting for the purpose of nominating officers. After two meetings these were finally elected, giving us as we thought, a good start in organization and spirit. But to our regret the President, Earl Caldwell, resigned on October 15. moving to Portland; our Vice-President, Dorothy Boutyette later resigned, giving satisfactory reasons. This left the class without a leader and one was not elected until the second semester. At this time the 1916V2 Freshmen joined our class and then we elected officers, who have served faithfully since. Those elected were: Ursula Hermann, President; Robert Campbell. Vice President; Doug las McKenna, Secretary; Ruth Waller, Treasurer; Joe Penn, Sargeant-at-Arms. Our class on the basketball field gained honors for itself. At several games the upper classmen found it hard to hold their own against our team of good-spirited Freshmen. In the middle of the year we bought class sweaters, but owing to slow freight, they did not get here in time to be of any use. Class Track now holds everyone’s attention and the Freshmen ar-i well represented in the list of contestants. Class picnics have become wbat might be called, “class scrapes.’ for there has been a good deal of misunderstanding and therefore quarreling among the classes. It has not, however, been decided which classes will go together. RUTH WALLER. MANAGING EDITORS................. EDITOR-IN-CHIEF ...............,_ ASSOCIATE EDITOR ................ ADVERTISING MANAGERS ............ CIRCULATION MANAGER ............. Athletics ..........Frank Hobi T3 Society ......Olivetta Faulkner T3 Literary .....Elizabeth Morgan T'J School Notes ---Dorothy Girton ’13 Music ...........Clyde Spencer ’13 Alumni ..........Varde Steiglitz T2 Staff Photographer ..Will Hudson ’13 j CLYDE SPENCER, T3. I INGRAM CHAMBERLAIN, T3. HORACE COOK, ’13 CYRIA ALLEN, T3 ( CLARENCE GARRISON, T3. ' WALTER HUTTULA, T3. ) CARROL REDEKER, 13. james McDonald, 14. Exchanges ..Ingram Chamberlain 13 Staff Artist....Marshall Reid 14 Locals ....Beatrice McKenna 13 Locals......Ingram Chamberlain 13 Senior Editor ........Cyria Allen 13 Junior Editor ..Florence Hook 14 Sophomore Editor Edward Holmer 15 Freshman Editor ....Ruth Waller 16 Graduation iHM jUMrLT and the shouting dies, The captains and the kings depart.” T[0.: There is little that the editor can say on this subject. although he realizes that, at this time he is expected to say something that is appropriate to the occasion. We have all looked forward to this event and very few of us see it without a feeling of joy and yet this is mingled with something that is closely akin to pain. The feeling of joy is easy to analize, hut why is it that we all feel that we would like to have a little more of High School life as we see it nearing its close? Is it that we are so studious and have such a great desire to aequire a learning more vast m its extent? Are we afraid to face the unrelenting severity of hard work and the responsibility of lighting with the world for a living? This can hardly be the case for we are not, at a rule, of a cowardly disposition. 34 QUINIAULT Neither are we as industrious as we might be. What, then, is the reason for our regret? It must he that our affection, coming through a lonj; association with the object, has proved that it is a strong one. Indeed, one can hardly conceive of a student spending his four years, more or less, under the roof of the High School without having at the end a strong regard for it which will extend throughout his entire life. That people, other than ourselves, have this feeling is a well known fact. Why else scholarships and prizes donated by the Alumni? Let us emulate then in their example as much as possible. We may not be able to do the same as they but we can at least have as strong a love for the Aberdeen High School as any of its graduates and we can show it in many ways. It is not necessary that we go to any great expense in doing this, but a good word is always helpful and an enthusiastic attendance of the athletic games will show that we have not forgotten the old A. H. S. as soon as we have left it. Is this what should be said as an editorial for graduation? We do not know. We will leave that to you to decide. FINANCES. This one word covers a multitude of facts (and sins on the parts of those who do not advertise). Now it is a prevalent opinion, much flouted on and encouraged by the knocker, that the “Ocean Breeze” is a decided failure financially. It is this impression that we wish to correct. The High School paper is not a failure along this line, and there is no reason why it should be. It has been repeatedly demonstrated that the advertisements can be made to pay for the paper. Then there are the subscriptions. These two are the main sources of revenue for the paper The advertisements are. in a High School the size of ours, necessarily the greatest source. They should pay for the paper and leave something over if properly chased up. But do not take this statement as unconditional. There are times when the ads. do not pay for the paper and it is not the fault of the Advertising Manager. Try to do his job yourself and see how easy (?) it is. Try to get an ad. from some busy merchant when you are no bigger than “Toots.” If you succeed we take off our hats to you. But humor aside, it is not the easiest job on the paper Now let us take up the subscriptions. They will amount to about one hundred sixty to one hundred seventy-five dollars, one dollar being the price of a year’s subscription. Let us say right here that all of the subscriptions cannot be collected and that it is not at all the fault of the Subscription Manager. A certain limited number of the subscribers never fail to forget to pay for their paper. (That is the mildest way in which we can state it). This year it is to be taken out the library and other fees, if there is a failure to pay. The cost of the “Ocean Breeze” per issue is about sixty dollars. The ads. bring in on an average about fifty-five dollars. The deficit on each issue is far more than made up by the amount of the subscriptions. On this basis the “Ocean Breeze” is a paying concern. But if it does not finish ahead of its creditors this year, you must take into consideration the fact that it began the year with a debt of nearly a hundred dollars and that it has to contribute quite heavily to the “Quiniault.” This is an undetailed account of the finances of the “Ocean Breeze” and EDITORIAL STAFF From left to right—Top row—Clarence Garrison, Ad ertising; Carrol Redeker, Advertising; Mac Maurice, Business Staff; James McDonald, Circulation; Walter Huttila, Advertising. Left to right, lower row—Clyde H. Spencer, Managing Editor; Cyria Allen, Associate Editor; Horace Cook, Editor-in-Chief; Ingram Chamberlain, Managing Editor. QUINIAULT the wherefore of them. And in conclusion, let us say that the main responsibility of the financial success of the paper depends on the ability of and the manner in which the Advertising Manager carries out his work. A great deal more of credit than he usually gets is due to him. —o—o—o—o—o—o—o—o— BUSINESS AND BUM BUSINESS. Perhaps no funds lie more exposed, and sad to say, more money seems to be more generally misappropriated than the receipts of high school activities. Startling and unexpected as it may seem, the assertion that a fair portion of the receipts of our class plays, class dances, athletic games, school publications and declamatory contests, have gone to bountifully replenish the exchequers of certain individuals, is by no means exaggerated and admittedly true. The reason, logical and very evident, lies in the fact that the financial matters of our little functions aren’t run by BUSINESS. The managers, editors, chairmen aren’t made to make a detailed account of all the money, the tickets, the copies that pass through their hands. Their reports are not accurate. Conditions J don’t require them to be. In this almost deplorable habit, graft, let us call it, for graft it certainly is, lies one of the main reasons that school enterprises in the Aberdeen High school are never great financial successes and so often sad failures. And the remedy? There are two. One rests upon the honesty, decency and school spirit of the students in the years to come. The class play, “The Quiniault” and other affairs have come out financially successful this year, not on account of any superhuman effort on the part of their promoters but because of their integrity, economy and school spirit. The other alternative can be that there be a faculty representative to look after all the finances of our activities, I to handle all the money, to extinguish that now-vivid flame, petty graft. Let this little comment serve as an earnest entreaty to the classes of next year. We hope they will be as sincere as it is. ON OURSELVES. The Class of 1913 has placed before you its most ambitious attempt at journalism in this “Quiniault.” We have worked hard and faithfully but by no means have we overworked. We have asked for a great deal of support and ha e in most cases received it. The staff, we believe, is the most competent and willing organization that we could possibly gather. The support of our advertisers has been excellent and our en- I graver, our printer and our typist have all been extremely prompt in I their delivery. Certainly our paper should be a success. “But in the j hour of triumph let us not gloat” goes the quotation and its application I is excellent when it is considered that our effort may not be received I with the same enthusiasm that we ourselves manifest. The “Quiniault” this year has more advertising, more pages, more I literary material and larger engravings than ever before. If we sue- I ceed in leaving High school with the Senior Annual on a sound fin an.- I cial basis, we may feel that we really have accomplished something. I something that makes up for the financial shortcomings of the previous I years, something that is really an added distinction to the Class of 1913. I And thus we close. Harry Adams, President Will Hudson, Vice-Pres. Dorothy Girton, Sec . Student Body Officers was in May of 1912 that an ambitious and far-seeing underclassman, Jones by name, conceived the idea of organizing the membership of the High School into a compact body. The virtues of the plan were to lie in the provision that the president of this organization was to preside over all athletic assemblies and thus create an added interest and enthusiasm in them, and also in the inevitable idea of the annual election of officers, giving ample time and opportunity for that delightful pastime, campaigning. The first election proved thrilling and extremely animated, to say the least. Not being satisfied with the candidates for president, a murmur had passed thru the school to vote for a sticker candidate. The murmur was a strong one and the candidate was one of the most popular individuals in school, result: he easily received the highest number of votes. In the maze of constitutional confab that followed, it is with difficulty that the one important action is extracted, namely the decision of the Board of Control that sticker candidacy received no mention in the constitution of this body and therefore one thus elected could not rightfully hold office. The meeting ended with the disgruntled ones muttering how they would change things to suit themselves in the next school year. No such violent action was taken however, since the authorized president did not attend school and the vice-president, an entirely innocent individual took his place.. Mr. Sylvester Damitio, the sterling, cinnamon-crested orator of the Oxbow country, majestically held the turbulent assemblies under sway in a manner both pleasing and dignified, although not altogether free from embarrassment. Mr. Damitio, having graduated, surrendered his position in favor of the alfalfa fields in the vicinity of Porter, and in the election for his successor and a new vice-president, Harry Adams, was honored by the first named office and Will Hudson was easily chosen to fill the position of a vice-president. The student body should be a permanent if not exactly an ideal body in the Aberdeen High school. It may have its shortcomings but it does no harm. It has little or no effect on the students but it does help our assemblies some. It can be greatly improved by a fluent and interesting president, something very rare in a High school, who has the unusual ability to be an excellent toastmaster, so to speak, and to be a polished speaker. Q U I N I A TJ L T Some time ago one of the Stanford Fraternities offered a prize for a poem to be as ungrammatical as possible and yet be sentimental. The following took first prize: There aint no nothing much no more There’s nothing aint no use to me. In vain I tread this lonely shore For I have saw the last of thee. I seen a ship upon the deep And signaled this here fond lament I haven’t did a thing but weep Since thou hast went. Alas for I ain’t one of they Who hasn’t got no faith in love And them fond words of yesterday Was spoken true “by Heaven above.” It is all off twixt I and you. Will you go wed some other gent? The things I done I’d fain undo Since thou hast went. Oh Love I did what I have did Without no thought of no offence. Return, return, I sadly bid, Before my feelings get intense. This here thing hurts my poor brain so I have gave up all hope of fame But 0, what joy ’twould be to know That thou hast came. . “THE DREAM OIIASER” “THE ROSE.” “GRIT” “THE SENIOR MASSACRE” “GRAND OPERA FROM BEHIND” “AN UNFINISHED TALE” “A HEART TO HEART TALK” “THE OLD CURATE AND KATE” “A CATASTROPHE” “SYSTEMATIC SMITH” “HIS LOST YOUTH” “AN ESSAY ON LOVE” “THE KNOCKER” “GRANADA’S TRAITOR” “HOW TO BECOME A PROFESSIONAL MUSICIAN” “THE CALL OF THE VIOLIN” “THE LAND O’ YELLOW GOLD” 40 Q tt I N i A V L f The Dream Chaser E four o’clock bell had long ago sounded, and the last student had gone, leaving John Ashton, teacher of English, alone at his desk. Outside, the maple with leaves blushing from the kisses of Autumn’s first frost, had doubled its shadow since he first sat down. A flock of wild geese wedged their way southward in a long trailing V. The gossamer-winged insects filled the air with their drowsy droning. Over in the west. Day unbarred the sunset gates, and Phoebus drove his flaming car through. Evening advanced. The shadow of the maple blended with the purple haze of the twilight, and still the professor sat with his head bowed in his hands. It was not age that had whitened his hair. A bitter disappointment had made him old before his time. A cherished hope had been deferred until his very soul grew sick. Ilis lifelong dream had been to write poetry. No man loved it better than he. He had surely been born a poet, but something—environment or education—had thwarted the plan of nature. Sometimes the clouds rolled back and the professor caught a fleeting glimpse of the sunlit heights of poetry, but even as he gazed, the dazzling vision faded and he went sadly back to his task of delving in the Golconda of literature and bringing to light the diamonds of other men’s thoughts. As Moses, he stood on Mount Nebo’s side sighing his soul across the Jordon to the Canaan land of poetry which he could never enter. The realization that he could never be a poet had not embittered the life of John Ashton. Man is by nature an optimist. He who is continually pessimistic must be so by conscious effort. True, there are times when each man must pass over Cedron into the garden. John Ashton was in his Gethsemane now. When twilight came with all of its witchery, the old man rose, saying, “All my life I have waited and hoped. There is nothing in dreams. I will dream no more. There are no poets in this generation. The bones of those who should have been their fathers lie bleaching on the battlefields of Bull Run. Gettysburg and Antietam. “Now there is Nora Lee.” he said, naming the most prosaic student in his class. “She might as well study the multiplication table as Shakespeare, for all the poetry she gets out of it. I have been chasing a will-’o-the-wisp, pursuing a phantom.” Time was, in his manhood’s morning, when the flower of hope bloomed anew in his heart; the gates of Paradise opened and earthward came the Angel of Life, bearing him a little bine-eyed son. What poetry lay within those deep blue eyes? Then the professor went to work with a smile on his lips and a song in his heart. He would not be a poet, but his child would. But time glinted by and ere the linger- QtfiNiAxttiff _______________________ 4i mg light of Paradise had faded from his innocent eyes, there came a call for the little one, and all that was left the father was an aching heart and a memory. Twice since then had the hills been white and the orchards sweet with cherry blossoms. Then came Autumn in golden skirts and scarlet bodice, bringing another child. Now, indeed his dream was ended. The skies regained their blueness, the pennyroyal and the sweet mint, their fragrance. But as the child grew older, even the love-blind eyes of the father could not fail to see how prosaic and unimaginative the child was. He never looked into the glowing coals and saw the elfin firemen at their forges or gazed at the sky and saw' the white-winged and the glimmering castles on clouds as other children did. The flower of hope withered and drooped in John Ashton’s heart, but he did not die. “I have my boy” he consoled himself, thinking of the myrtle-covered mound under the cedars. ‘‘The Lord is good. I wrill not lose all hope. I will seek among the students who come into my classes. Surely out of that number in the years to come I shall find one to fulfill my dream.” So through the long years he waited and watched, while his hair grewr grey and his shoulders bent. Many a time hope was all but gone; many a time he thought he had found the right one, but even as he said. “My dream is over. I have aw akened at last,” sleep fell heavily upon his eyelids and he dreamed on. At last there entered his class a noble browed youth, a young Apollo, who showed unmistakable signs of budding poetical genius. There was not a doubt in the professor’s mind but that this was the one he had been seeking. How he worked and toiled with the young man! His years fell from him like a garment and he grew young again in the hopes and dreams of the young poet. But even as the old poet-seeker's joy w'as at it’s height, there came a blue-coated figure with a drum and a patriotic speech—a recruiting officer seeking volunteers. There was just enough romance and hot-blooded patriotism in the young poet to cause him to be the first to enlist. Weeks drifted into months, and months into years, still no news of the boy came to the waiting professor. Then one night there came a hurried knock at the window , a haggard, hunted face, a few quick words and the night swallowed up the form of a deserter fleeing from justice. Thus he. too. passed frotn the life of the old man. These were the thoughts of the professor as he walked slowly homeward through the shimmering moonlight. When he looked down the road of his yesterdays, and saw only broken dreams and disappointments, his hope was wrecked forever on the reef of pain. “I have lived in vain,” he said. “A year after I am gone; w’ho will remember John Ashton? I have dreamed my life away. I am ready to die.” June in Kentucky! What artist can paint the clearness of the skies, the blueness of the grass, the song of the birds and all those fragrant odors that perfume the air! Balmy Italy and sunny Spain cannot compare to her. Croesus w as a beggar if he never lived for one June day in Kentucky. June had come again. Every singing bird, rip- 42 QUINIAULT pling brook and dancing leaf joined in the superb chorus of Nature. One little cardinal whose warbles almost split his small throat, darted through the air, perched himself on a lonely headstone and poured forth his joy in a lilting melody. Ilad the songster paused and looked beneath him he might have seen these words: JOHN ASHTON 1850-1910 THIS IS A SLEEP TOO DEEP FOR DREAMS Then a flash of flame shot from the hillside grave to a rose bush beneath a lady’s window, and the cardinal sat atilt on the topmost twig. The lady herself sat within and dropped her book to listen. It fell open at the title page and showed these words: THE LOOM OF DREAMS By NORA LEE DEDICATED TO JOHN ASHTON WHOSE SPIRIT GUIDED THE HAND THAT WOVE Perhaps a harp was silent in Heaven while the harper, winging the earthward way, hovered above unseen to read these words. The life of the Dream-Chaser, a greater poem than mind of man has ever conceived, had awakened in the life of Nora Lee something that had long been sleeping. He had struck the unswept chords of poetry in her soul and through her his dream had come true. True! Though his name might be forgotten, his spirit would live, for the dreamer lives forever! THE INCONSISTENCIES OF THE WISE. THEY SAY. He who hesitates is lost. Beauty is only skin deep. Faint heart ne’er won fair lady. Necessity is the mother of invention. Love conquers all things. A stitch in time saves nine. Better be wise than rich. The pen is mightier than the sword. AND THEN Look before you leap. A thing of beauty is a joy forever. All things come to him who waits. There is nothing new under the sun. Love is blind. It is never too late to mend. A little knowledge is a dangerous thing. In time of peace prepare for war. Q U I N I A U L T 43 The Rose WARD DORSON, had you asked him, would have replied in surprise and indignation that he was far from growing old. And such ought to have been the case. Yet it was the universal testimony of the office force in their daily lunch hour discussions that “Old Dorsey” had seen the best of his days. Such was the thought in Miss Mamie Cardill’s little blond head as she looked lip from her rather decrepit typewriter in expectancy of Mr. Dorson’s regular “Good morning. Miss Mamie,” which was her due. But this morning her welcome smile changed to a p ut as she realized that he had forgotten his accustomed greeting. Not that she greatly cared, but she had become so used to the procedure that, trivial as it was, she missed it, and she turned a decidely reproachful gaze bn Mr. Dorson, as he laid his hat and coat on a pile of old ledgers in the corner and sank despondently into his chair. So he sat for a moment, as though his mind, weary from the nights of extra work, was vainly trying to collect itself for the day’s grind. Gathering himself with a sigh, he commenced to open the accurm -lation of mail that cluttered his dingy, roll top desk, yet without his usual concentration, so that, “samples, probably” was his only thought as he opened the long, slim box that had lain half concealed under the avalanche of letters and advertisements. But as soon as he glanced within, he sat upright and stared at its contents with wide-mouthofl - :-tonishment. Turning his gaze toward the stenographer he saw her pounding viciously at her rattling machine and it struck him that several audible sniffs had come from that direction but a moment before. He looked back at the package and, picking up the one perfect rose that lay there in its moist wrappings, ran his ink stained fingers over it in a sort of wondering admiration. He had almost forgotten that there were such flowers. Who could have sent him such a gift? He turned the box over and over in useless speculation, for there were no marks, save his own address in the office. At first a romantic thrill of mystery and adventure ran through his tired brain. Why, it was almost as good as a story—a flower sent through the mail—no clue to sender or to purpose. He began to get a little excited. But then, as he argued, it could be but a prank of some of the boys who had seemed to spring up around him in the office during the last few years. Funny, how they let youngsters do men’s work now. He heard a half wistful sigh and would have tossed the flower into the waste basket, but, stirred by some faint echo of chivalry from the farthest and mustiest depths of his grey head, he walked over to where Miss Mamie’s head was determinedly bent over her endless task and awkardly laid it upon her desk. She looked up in as much surprise as he had shown on first beholding the flower. Even he felt amazed at his boldness. “It ain’t for me, is it, Mr. Dorson?” she queried with a pleasant smile as she picked it up. 44 QUINIAULT “Wy—ye-es”. Then a happy idea. “I—er—it just matches your cheeks Miss Mamie.’’ “Why, Mr. Dorson, I didn’t know you was such a kidder,.” she said blushing agreeably. “And so thoughtful, too. How did you know this was my birthday? Are you going to the land show tonight? They say its just grand.” But Dorson had fled to his own desk where he seized a pen and began to write feverishly. Never, never, since he had been in the employ of Darby Franzen had he spoken more than the formal “good morning” to Miss Mamie, outside of the necessary dictation. Why had he not thrown away that rose? Now she thought that he had planned it; that he had purposely purchased it as a birthday present. He raged inwardly. He was the victim of circumstances, She would think he was trying to make love to her. He knew she was trying to catch him. Ah. Now he must be wary. “Poor old Dorsey.” thought Miss Mamie in turn. “So scared he could hardly speak. I’ll have to be easy on him even if he was trying to be extra nice to me. Glad I didn’t give him any encouragement.” All that morning, first Dorson and then Miss Mamie would stealthily glance around, usually to find the other already looking, whereupon both would turn hastily away and plunge deeper into their neglected work. How Dorson got through the morning he never could tell. He sent a prominent customer to the janitor, he admitted a vender of sponges to Mr. Darby’s private office. He dipped his pen into the mucilage, and having used the fine stationary of the outgoing mail to clean up the resulting mess, handed a bunch of blotters to the office boy to mail. The lunch hour came at last and Dorson hurried into his coat and sought refuge in the nearby dairy lunch, where, disliking to remain among the sharpened wits of his fellow employes, he habitually ordered a tongue sandwich and a cup of tea, which he consumed in timorous silence. Upon his return he found the office in an uproar. He stood bewildered, unable to make head or tail out of the medley that assailed him. “Hi Dorsey! Mamie’s gone an—” “You betcha. Went oflF in fine style. Taxi at the—” “And he owing me three dollars since last—” “Hey, Dorsey! Where’s your rose?” “You see its like this,” kindly explained Mr. Simmons, another of the firm’s more mature slaves, as the chorus turned toward the newcomer. “Just after you left, a big red taxi came up to the door and Mamie eloped with George, the office boy. They’re going out West where George’s uncle’s going to give him a half interest in his store. Wasn’t it lucky that the new florist sent a sample rose to every one in the office? We’re going to put them together and send them to Mamie for a bridal boquet. Where’s your box?” Without answering, Dorsey fervently muttered. “Thank the Lord,” and. turning his back to the thoroughly mystified Simmons, he seized his beloved pen. He knew where the rose was. Q U I N I A U L T 45 “ Grit ” ’S one big joke.” “Joke! Why I say it’s one terrible blunder. The idea of putting Salvage in for a part like that! He can’t act; you know he can’t. ’ ’ “Well, he can try.” “But its impossible for a book-worm to take the part of a popular hero.” The unknown voices trailed into the distance leaving Richard Salvage with a queer chokey sensation. The voices had floated into his room from the avenue below through an opened window. Could he try! Could he act! Richard Salvage staggered to his feet, choking back his fast rising anger. He wouldn’t go on, and cause the failure of the play. Let Harvey Smith or Gene Radwith take his part! He reached for his cap as if to go at once to resign. Maybe he wasn’t capable. He. no doubt, was a book-worm and had never taken much interest in such things. But his outstretched hand relaxed. No! He would not. resign' He would go on, and he would be a success! “A man must have grit to succeed,” thought he, “in face of all odds. Why not make good?” As if the matter was settled, he bent once more to his old friends—his books. Soon he was startled by the heavy tramp of feet and the loud voice of his roommate, Stan Fulton, “Heard you were going to resign your part in favor of Gene Radwith. Dick.” “Why, how strange! Of course I’m not going to resign. I’m getting along fine and have my part down pat.” came in a cheery voice from Dick. A look of dismay crossed the other’s face. “But. how about last night. Everybody seems discouraged. They say its punk.” Just then Harvey Smith came. His good natured smile seemed to lessen the strain between Stan and Richard. Although the conversation drifted off into other channels, the Senior play was uppermost in rheir minds. Soon the conversation returned to the play. Harvey rea lized that Dick wasn’t fitted for tbe part, but that a cheery word from his friend would help him. , “Oh! You’ll do fine. Its harctSto get started, but as soon as vou . -v ° ' get in the spirit of it. things will go' Sailing. It’s not time for rehearsal yet; so let’s go out and have a game of golf. This was readily assented to. and the three strolled out on the campus to be joined by others. The rehearsal proved none too successful. Rchard improved each time, but he still lacked the genuine feeling. His actions were forced He was stiff and unbending. His part was difficult, the character he 46 QUINIAULT represented being a rescuer, who, while doing a heroic deed, was seriously hurt. But notwithstanding his improvements, it was generally felt by the east that he should do better. The night came. Parents, relatives, friends and curious spectators flocked to the Opera House. Behind the scenes all was bustle and confusion. The scenery was being arranged, and the actors were putting on their final touches. Dick and Ilarvey stood at the stage entrance, which was reached by a flight of steps. “Practice diving here, Dick, just so you’ll get the right flavor to it tonight.” joked the one. “Oh! I guess I don’t need to break my neck. I’ve fasted all day so as to look pale.” “Haven’t succeeded much, old chap. You look pretty rosy yet.” Playfully Harvey gave his friend a little push. Alas! Dick overstepped his mark and fell twelve feet to the street below. He rose, still smiling, but slightly pale. There was a general laugh at his expense. The curtain rose. All eyes were fastened on the stage, but none were disappointed. Now it was Richard’s turn to enter. “Brace up. Salvage,” cheerily called Harvey, noticing his friend’s pallor. Richard flashed a smile at him and entered. He acted his part perfectly. The pained look on his face, the feeling in his words, and the grace in his actions were all that could be wished for. After the play, the house soon emptied. Friends and admirers crowded around him. To all their bursts of praise he smiled. Harvey Smith ashed to him. and with a hearty slap on his back exclaimed, “ft was perfectly great, Salvage, how did you do it?—Why what’s the matter?” But already Richard tvas groping his way to a chair. The stage and its surroundings faded before him. “My arm,” he grasped. And then they knew that he had really felt the pain they had supposed he was acting. “It was pure grit anyway,” loudly proclaimed Harvey as they helped Richard out of the Opera House—“Pure Grit.” AMELIA CHRISTIE. ’14. GRADUATION The time has come when are are no longer to be called students of the old A. II. S. Whether we are jubliant over the fact or not is a hard matter to decide. True it is that we are eager to complete the high school course and hurry our life preparations that we may hit the front line of real life battle at the earliest date possible. Those who are planning on attending the higher institutions of learning, immediately, are not effected by a homesickness that befalls those who are through with the educational work upon graduating from this school. To those who intend to take up college work, a bright future of happy college days lobms up before them and they say farewell to the high school with little reluctance. But a different attitude is taken by the other class. They QUINIAULT 47 are effected with a half delightful and a half sorrowful passion upon finishing the high school course. Someway the oncoming battle of life does not look very cheery to them and they wish half in earnest that they were to remain with the teachers and fellow students. We feel as though we were to be ushered into another world when the graduating air gathers around us; whereas only a minor incident of importance is confronting us. We are only a minute percentage of the number in the United States that shall take the same steps, and yet our hearts are filled with an importance that appears only to be singular. We are going to play a part in the following events that confront us. We are going to look at graduation philosophically and likewise all other graduations in life thinking that we are pushing ahead for a hidden goal and that we will reach it only after due strife and privation. We should feel proud and glad to graduate. THE GREAT CLASS STRUGGLE THE FORESHADOWING OF AN INTERNAL CONFLICT Late in the fall of 1912 a sudden eruption broke forth in the legislative body extending over a period of several weeks in which some of the most influential politicians took part, including Senator Damitio, Treasurer J. Zelasko, and Sargeant-at-arms C. Garrison. It wras clearly seen by everybody that a great war was pending, and that the comprising that was going on was not going to stop the awful catastrophe. Our flag had been seized and insulted,—torn from the wall of our fort ress, spit upon and trampled in the dust by an enraged mob of profane anarchists. Already diplomatic relations had been severed. Deep seated rumblings of discontent and sulphurous emittings gave evidence of an impending upheaval. Our foreign diplomats, Ambassador Burt, and Miss Lulu Morehead, a prominent Methodist missionary, had been called from their posts. Comrade Walter Huttula gave a brilliant speech, in which the immortal words were uttered—“I know not what brand others may take but as for me give me “Prince Albert” or give me death.” By such forcible oratory, it was not long before two distinct opposing forces had arrayed themselves on the field. The yellow press ran wild, headed by the notorious periodical “MAX,” while speakers of every description used their utmost influence to prove their cause the right. Time fluttered by. More certain and more definitely did a black war cloud float in the dim horizon—ever rising, ever growing, until, finally, the earth lay smothered like a kitten rapped up in an over-grown bed-comforter. Apparently there would soon be a cloud-burst, which, by the way, isn’t such an unusual happening in this part of the Pacific Coast Mudhole, and consequently everyone was armed with an umbrella. The climax came when Viscount Zelasko, openly defied the power of the enemy and declared our forces forever separated from theirs. “Deez outrageousness has got to stop; deez ting has gone too far. You fellows see deez?” concluded Viscount Zelasko! At the exclamation of such brilliant and prolific oratory, quick as a flash both sides began to prepare for action. 48 QUINIAULT Campaigns In Brief It was now evident that might would determine the struggle. Consequently, Commander-in-Chief Seipio Bugdome Cook set about planning a series of campaigns. He put Third Lieutenant Ilobi in command of the infantry and ordered him to advance immediately, by way of G and Third streets. Gun-bearer Hudson was sent with two scouts to re-connoiter: Gen. Cook took command of the main army. On Feb. 10th, a bomb gracefully curved over our fort, bursting in mid air, which was the first action in the struggle that was to follow. We afterwards discovered that the supposed bomb was a biscuit made at the domestic science, stuffed with nitroglycerine. We concluded that the reason nitroglycerine had been used was because no other high explosive was thought to possess sufficient energy to shatter the bread-fragments. Presently, a terrific hail of grape-nuts poured into our fort which was immediately followed by a rush. But we held our fort. Once, twice, thrice did they endeavor to break the Old GYM Door lock, but were at every time repulsed. The enemy decided that to bombard the fort was misdirected energy, and consequently marched off with banners flying and pop-guns roaring. The second and last campaign before the memorable “Senior Massacre” was occupied in territory surrounding Cow Run, a piece of ground located just north of II street. It received this name from a striking incident that occured there not long ago, when Missouri Faulk became frightened at some girls and ran for dear life. The two armies were drawn up in splendid array. The shields and weapons glistened in tie sunshine. Halferty and Green, our war horses, pawed and pranced the ground, eager to enter the combat. Gen. Seipio Cook reviewed the lines. “Ye Gladiators must fight and ye will do well.” spoke he in tones that shook the very earth. Everything pointed that it ! ould be a terrible battle, but alas just as preparation were made to charge, the rain began to sprinkle, and soon it fairly poured, and consequently the battle wa-called off. ‘‘The Senior Massacre” Gen. Cook had been anxiously watching the movements of the enemy during most of the day. Major Chamberlain had been caught spying in the enemy’s camp the day before and was cruelly scalped, but escaped, however, back to our lines with his head pitiously scarred about the ears. All Senior soldiers were eagerly awaiting the oncoming fray. They sky was clear and blue. Not a flower waved on its tender stalk in the still atmosphere. Flock after flock of vultures and flesheating birds hovered in the heavens awaiting the result of the terrible onslaught that wras to come. The noonday sun shone radiantly behind a cloud, while the moon rose in queenly beauty over the distant Think-of-Me sign, surrounded by countless numbers of stars that studded the Universe. Our spies and messengers returned with word that the enemy was coming, two hundred strong sweeping everything before them! ! ’Twas a trying moment for the boys. Nevertheless they remained steady at their posts. Not an eye quiverd or a tongue winked On came the Two Hundred ! QUINIAULT “Don’t fire until you can see the enemies’ buttonholes,” commanded Gen. Cook in a quaking voice. All noise and disorder ceased. ’Twas still as death, while onward came the Two Hundred! Suddenly flag-bearer Spencer madly skulked out from our lines nursing a deadly dagger and rushing amid the enemies’ very stand. Cjuick as a flash the enemy rushed upon our flag-bearer, crushing him to earth and inflicting cruel lacerations. This barbarous act influenced our soldiers immediately. “Excelsior! excelsior!” whimpered Gen. Cook, running as fast as his legs would carry him for the nearest tree and ascending it with the gracefulness of ah ostrich. Both armies sent up a war whoop and simultaneously the lines clashed. Our first volley, consisting of three rocks, four clubs and sixteen bricks, told its own tale, which, soon being followed by a heavier fire, weakened the left wing of the enemy’s right guard considerably. Soou our cavalry rushed into the struggling mass of humanity, headed by vicesergeant Damitio on a new Sears-Roebuck bicycle Cutting their way through the center of the enemy’s body they succeeded in dividing it into two parts. At last it looked as if our men were gaining ground. The dead and dying lying underfoot, groaning and suffering, made it a scene of horror. Blood spurted, curses arose, men fell, Gen. Cook shivered, bombs busted, arms clashed, and bayonets sheathed themselves in human flesh! For two long hours this horrible wholesale slaughtering went on. We held our ground like men, but the enemy outnumbered us in every respect, thus forcing us to retreat. “Rout the East Division or we are lost,” murmured Gen. Cook from the tree he was planted in. Our men charged but ’twas of no avail. We fell back to the H street Fortifications and here made our last stand behind the mail box and a Bell System Telephone pole. Discharge after discharge of hot air we poured into the enemy’s body. “We are lost” scathed Gen. Cook, who had by this time made a suitable retreat towards the Pacific Ocean. “Don’t give up the hair” echoed privateer Gilbreath which seemed to put new vim into the blood of the soldiers. “We are surrounded, comrades, all is lost,” piped Artillery Zelasko. his voice cracking a score of times, and before there was time enough for our soldiers to collect their thoughts and handkerchiefs the enemy rushed upon us from all sides, hemming us in like a hobble skirt. “Take my life, my money, or my shoes,” pleaded Adams, the drummer, “but spare me my only flintlock” and he grappled at an old broom with the determination of an ox. “Surrender in the name of the Gracious Rain-In-The-Face—Faulk,” commanded one of the oldest chiefs, whose face was covered with a thick mud of war paint, and a Fatima molded in one corner of his month. “We surrender” trembled lieutenant Huttula, at the same time giving the chief his button hook as a token of submission and a valuable copy of the “The New Era.” 50 QUlNIAULtf “After the papers had been signed and the several dispatches that were necessary for the surrender, conferred upon, preparations were made for burial of the braves that had fallen in the skirmish. Records afterwards showed that the enormous onslaught had surpassed any esli-mate, including a horrible gash out of Corporal Boot Schumacher’s left hand. So will this terrible occurence go down in history, known as the Senior Massacre, and many a historian to come will ponder its massive ness and bring forth upon the world this vast scene of bravado and activity. “Dearest darling, I love thee,” he said. “Ditto George,” was her sweet reply. Eight hours passed. The young man was hoeing corn. “What does ditto mean, father?” he asked. “ I cannot find it in the dictionary.” The old farmer rested on his hoe, and pointing to the cabbage in front of him, remarked: “You see that cabbage?” “Yes,” responded the youth. “And you see that next one there?” “Yes.” “Well that is called ditto.” “Darn her,” exclaimed the impetuous youth, “She called me a cabbage head.” Customer—“I shall want a large quantity of flowers from you next week for your daughter’s coming out.” Flower Woman—“Yes, mum. You shall ’ave the werry best for ’er, pore dear. Wot she put in fer?” Lady Customer—“Have you, “Kiss ed Me In the Moonlight?” Music Clerk—“Why—er—it must have been the other clerk.” The famous citizen returned to his birthplace to address his former neighbors. To assure them that his fame had not caused him to put on airs, he opened his speech thus: “My dear friends—I won’t call you ladies and gentlemen—I know you too well for that.” “What was it that the aviator said when he fell from his ’plane and struck the earth with his usual dull thud?” “Oh, nothing much—he remarked that this was a hard world.” Stineman—“Clyde, what is the chemical formula for sausage?” Max Spencer—“K9.” Teacher—“Where is the land on thr-free and the home of the brave?” Scholar (?)—“The homes of bachelors and old maids respectively.” Chester—“I strained my eyes terribly last night.” Jozef Z.—“How’s that?” Chester—“Looking through a seive Mike was standing on a pier in New York when a diver bobbed up be side him. “Begorra!” said Mike, “if I’d a’ known they had suits like that. I’d a walked over too!” As they halted in front of the flor ists’s she cried, “Oh the blush on that beautiful rose!” “It is blushing,” her pessimist lover replied, “at the price, I suppose.” You sing a little song or two, And you have a little chat; You make a little candy fudge, And then you take your hat; You hold her hand and say good night. As sweetly as you can------ Ain’t that a deuce of an evening For a great big healthy man? “Oh, papa! Algernon has asked me to marry him!” “The nervy pup! What has he done to deserve you?” “Well, Algernon is a writer of some note.” “Is that so? Can you convince me of that?” “Sure. Here’s his proposal note.” Metallurgy—A young man with a bronze complexion fell in love with a girl with a silvery laugh and had the brass to ask for a kiss. She immediately called a copper, who, with a steely glance, lead him away. “Alas’’ cried he “My happiness is ore.” Miss Fogle—“Please give me a sketch of George Elliott’s life.” C. M.—“He was a lady------ Q U I N I A U L T 51 Grand Opera From Behind AT paper?” These are the words which greet one on attempting to penetrate behind the scenes at a performance of the Grand Opera Company. If a newspaper badge or pass is not exhibited, and if the visitor cannot show some very good reason why he should be admitted, a personal pass from the manager being the best and most common, he must forego the pleasure of attending that performance behind the scenes. Once within, however, one is not molested, and is given the freedom of the stage, so long as he keeps carefully out of the way of the actors and stage hands. The stage itself is huge and barn-like. The walls are whitewashed. On one side is an iron stairway leading to tiers of dressing rooms. On the other side are more tiers, the ground floor rooms being occupied by the principals. These latter, by the way, have things pretty much to suit; they get the best of everything. This is but natural in view of the salaries which they receive and their importance to the company. The back of the stage is taken up by the properties. Each piece of scenery has a number and has written on it the name of the opera in which it is used. There are also various stock pieces, such as tables chairs, rockers, etc. These are all kept in a place separate from the other properties which are used in only one opera. This problem of scenery is a great one. People who see a forest scene, or a mountain scene, or some gorgeous salon, say: “How ef- fective! Isn’t that beautiful!” Never having had anything to do with the production of an opera, they do not think of the months spent by skilled workmen on some piece of scenery which will be used only a few times. One old-fashioned stage coach for “Mignon” was made by a carriage company, cost the management two hundred dollars, and is drawn across the stage once during each performance of that particular opera. The various castles, street scenes and pieces of furniture are made up of more than a thousand different parts and represent an investment of over five thousand dollars. The system employed in setting this scenery is remarkable. Besides its own particular number, each piece has a definite place, and some men told off to see to it. In this manner all unnecessary confusion in avoided. The furniture is covered and stored in wheeled chests. 'When a piece has done its duty on the stage, it is whirled off by its crew, taken to its own particular place and re-covered, another piece is brought out by the same crew and arranged on the stage; and 52 QUINIAULT all this under the watchful eye of the stage manager and his assistants. It takes a force of forty men from ten to twenty minutes to take dowm one scene and set up another in its place. In the meantime, where are the actors? As soon as the curtain drops, the stage becomes a scene of varied activity. Besides the stag hands, many of the actors flock from the wings and enjoy themselves as they please. Some dance, some tell jokes, some flirt with the actresses. and when the opera is French, all speak that language. The stage is now a playground : the love-making tenor rallies the villain of the hass voice; the leading female singer, if she is not changing h' costume, laughs with the stage manager: the premiere danseuse etoils has withdrawn to a corner, where she is arranging the flowers which she will use in her dance in the next act; the chorus girls, who have remained behind the wings during the last act. talk among themselves, or hum little snatches of song which are not found in any opera. Sun-denlv the stage manager breaks away from a laughing group, and steps to the middle of the stage near the curtain, facing the stage. TTo obtains quiet. Then he places the actors in the positions which they are to occupy at the beginning of the next act. This accomplished, he gives the signal and the curtain is drawn. Behind the scenes there is comparative quiet. From the prompter’s cage there comes a steady beat. He keeps time with his foot. When the chorus comes on he must give them the pitch everv time they sing a line. On the stage he is plainly heard, but none of his noise reaches the audience. Now the chorus comes running off. each girl unbuttoning the dress of the girl in front of her. The principals are not the ones who have to make lightning changes in grand opera. Perhaps when the chorus next goes on. it is followed by the premiere danseuse etoile. While s'w pirouettes, whirls, tiptoes across the stage and gracefully bends, even the stage hands look up from their dice and watch. She does not dance long, but soon comes off. bowing, and ouietly makes her wav to her dressing room, from which she comes forth transformed from the butterfly of a moment before to an ordinary human being, tho most graceful in her walk. The chorus soon follows her. and the stage is left again to the actors. Under this name—actors—there is included on the payroll of the company a body of men whose absence would be conspicuous, although when on the stage they are hardly noticed by the audience. These are the supernumeraries. Some of these have three or even more parts. One man will appear in “Carmen” as a brave soldier, again ns a bold smuggler, and also as a valiant picador. Sometimes he must change in an inconceivably short time and rush on the stage, his coat on awry, to drape himself over a rock and give the appearance of a bold bad man, waiting for somebody to kill, all the time wondering if he remembered to put on bis small cap. yet not daring to feel to find out. In the next act he will only have to manage a horse in a procession, and keep from running over the stars. TTo comes off the sta e within a minute of the time when he entered, having prepared himself for fifteen minutes, and after having waited for ten minutes in the wings, trying to keep bis steed from getting out of line. His is a hard life. 53 QUINIAULT What is the effect of all this on the audience? It sees a forest, not the props holding the trees. It sees smoke pouring from a burning castle, not steam being passed into a tank with a perforated top, from which it rises through excelsior laid over the holes. It sees a marble bench and does not hear it creak as a 130-pound man sits upon it. Neither does it see a stage hand pick up a massive oak table with perfee1 ease and carry it off after the act is over. Everything is sham, from the chorus girl’s complexion to the last detail in the tout ensemble. The audience seldom stops to think of the perfect light which there will be in a salon on a grand opera stage. Every corner of the room is bathed in a bright light, which could never he furnished by the light suspended from the ceiling. Every piece of furniture conceals a cluster of lights. Spotlights are operated from towers in the wings. .Moonlight is produced by plates of colored glass being placed over these lights. Dawns and sunsets are accomplished hv switches and colored glass. All these things cost money. Each performance, exclusive of the scenery, averages seven thousand dollars. There are about four hundred and fifty names on the payroll of the company, including everybody from stage hand to prima donna, with salaries ranging from twenty-five dollars a month to two thousand dollars a night. Perhaps this will give the reader an idea of the magnitude of such an undertaking as staging an opera. It pays, however, as has been fully demonstrated by this last season at the Auditorium. Chicago has responded nobly to the call to make possible a home grand opera company. It has equalled New York and surpassed the great Boston in this line of culture. MY EFFORTS. My dad sat in an old arm chair Reading the history of Flitty 0’Flare. Said he, “My son. you’d better write, Or you’ll not stir from the house tonight.” To write a ballad, I do hate, And I think you’ll agree its an awful fate So I think I’ll end my misery now And tell about our old black cow. She broke her neck one summer’s day, When from the barn she ran away. That cow was horn, she lived, she died. And now we treasure her old black hide. ’14. 54 Q IT I N I A U L T An Unfinished Tale 5 the plot all worked out in my head with the exception of the ending, and it now behooves me to put as much as I have on paper before I forget it, and then attach the proper finale later. I really wish these English teachers of ours would give us more time to write our stories. As it is, I’m afraid I won’t have a chance to bring my tale to its proper climax, and then, of course, my marks will hover around the same point that the top of the mercury column does in a North Dakota blizzard. Bur. [ will do the best I can—and here goes. The scene of this story is laid on the shores and in the backwoods of the Grays Harbor country. Of course, you know the settings—tall, majestic firs, thick underbrush, dark green waters and, as usual, a beautiful sunset. At first I was going to place the tale in some tropical land, but not being familiar as yet with such a hot climate, I was afraid I might get the names of the trees mixed up with those of the animals, or might paint (?) the wrong kind of sunset, causing undue comment among travelers who have seen the real ones. So I take the scenes around my home, and trembling with the awe one feels when looking at those gigantic firs, I describe them in all their glory, and throwing their shadows far over the water (caused by the most gorgeous setting of the sun man has ever seen), I present a picture that no writer has ever before depicted. Then the man, Jim, I will call him, is hiding in the bushes and watching a large boat, apparently a Chinese tramp, round a far away point and steam swiftly up the channel in front of him. Darkness, of course, comes at just the right time, under cover of which he rows out to meet the oncoming vessel, and deftly catches a suspicious looking package thrown to him. The belated steamer pursues its way to the great metropolis of Hoquiam. Let me ,for a moment, refer to my “Directions for Writing a Story and Questions to be answered by the Writer.” “Have I material?” Yes, I have, that’s in my plot. “Did I reject anything that has nothing to do with the story?” Don’t know as I have yet. Some might want me to leave out the sentence about the direction of the boat, but I want that left in. It tells the reader whether it was an ingoing pr an outgoing vessel, and that is an important point. “Is it connected?” Yes, as far as I can see. I suppose in places I have too many “ands,” but they are good connecting links, and that answers that query. QUINIAULT 55 “Have I catchy beginning?” Yes—such a beginning as I made must be catchy and ought to hold the reader in thralls of ecstacy. “Have I condensed the unimportant?” Again I answer; Yes, and some things that happened to Jim left out entirely. For instance, when he was hiding a large June bug lit on his hand and he killed it; then when he was pushing his boat off the beach he stubbed his toe on a rock and nearly went sprawling in the water. Details are a little too much for me so I left them out. “Have I kept the reader in suspense?” I think I have done that all right, for he is wondering what the Dickens this story is about anyway. “Have I left out anything?” I certainly did. Jim is a smuggler, and the package that was thrown to him from the steamer contains nothing more or less than diamonds. These facts I would not have the gentle reader know for any money; it would spoil my star character; he must, draw his own conclusions. I think it is up to the requirements so far. But wait—I did not give a description of Jim. But I am not good at describing characters; anyway its too late now, so that will be another thing the gentle reader will have to figure out for himself. As Jim is tying his boat well up under the overhanging bushes and making his precious gems safe in an inner secret pocket, he is startled by a voice on the bank above him calling “Jeem.” She knows his habits and comes to plead w’ith him. asking him not to do any more such dangerous work. He says that this is the last hike into the woods on such an errand, and reminds her that on the morrow they are to be wed. and then no more such business. He will take up a more lawful occupation, such as fishing, perhaps. After the tender words of parting that all lovers are in the habit of saying, she goes down one path to her home, and he takes an old logging road and follows it up far into the forest. As hard as it is not to blurt that Jim is a smuggler and that he has several thousand dollars in diamonds on his person, so it is going to be very hard to conceal the fact that the revenue officers are on his heels. But I won’t mention it for I don’t want anything to interrupt Jim’s happy thoughts. A COTILLION LEADER; HOW TO BECOME ONE! Being a cotillion leader is one of the most fascinating occupations imaginable. It should always be made as serious and as awe-inspiring as possible. Set a perfect example of formality and rigidity. Be sure that your dress suit is immaculate and that your white bow tie is not of the ready made. Then proceed as follows: Ask as many girls as you can for each dance and when the time comes, step behind the door and watch them fight it out. If they don t fight it out, you know that you aren’t, a born cotillion leader. But don’t be discouraged at this—there are many self-made cotillion leaders. If. by any chance, you should have only one young lady for some number, 56 QUINIAULT go politely up to her, step as neatly as possible upon the toes of her new pale blue satin pumps, and bow. Then back off with diginitv, that she may rise. Don’t spoil your new clean, white silk handkerchief b.y holding it in your hand between her new blue charmeuse bodice and any perspiration on your palm. Wait till you start to dance, engage her in animated conversation, then surreptitiously mop your hand all over the prettiest part of the hand-tucking on the back of her waist. Of course she won’t mind, even if the dress be spoiled—not until she tells her best friend about it next day. The final injunction would be to knock people right and left in as sprightly a fashion as possible. If you have a strong personality, make them feel your presence. This to all who really aspire to be true society chappies. P. S.:—Snub all and any of the chaperones. This is indispensible. By a Disgusted Member of the Fair Sex. ADVICE TO THE FRESHMEN. I once got a very high grade, dears, The very best grade in the class; I got it the first month of school, dears. Folks said that I surely would pass. But the next month I wasted my time, dears, I shunned and neglected my work; I thought that because of that mark, dears. I could have a swell time and shirk. My teachers first warned me, and said, dears, My lessons were up in the air; I’d forgotten the studying art, dears, And went down in mid term for fair. When the end of the term came at last, dears, I found I was left in the dark; My standings had dropped to half-mast, dears, I had flunked out in more than one mark. Moral Young Freshmen, this lesson’s for you, dears, If you first get good grades in your class, Don’t get the idea that you’re bright, dears, Or you certainly never will pass. A Senior. QUINIAULT 57 A Heart-to-Heart Talk ng thing had a heart that ached, her honey-boy ' taken his affections somewhere else, and her recently shut himself np with her to reason with it honey-boy averaged spending fifty cents a week he said. “Here’s a dollar to take hi place. Every time he called he cleaned up the cupboard; your mother will see to it that your brother does this in the future. He kept you up late o’nights; your baby sister is cross and hereafter you will let the baby do this for you. He took possession of the most comfortable rocker on the porch; when you look at that rocker in the future it will not be empty, bringing the pang to your heart that your silly novels tell about —it will be occupied by the man who paid for it. and that’s your father. Your mother and I stayed by you through colic and teething and are going to get you through this if we have to take turns spanking yon. Now take your eyes off the moon and look at the dust around you.” —o—o—o—o—o—o—o—o— SPRING POETRY; HOW TO WRITE IT. Poets, Stop! Look!! Listen!!! Spring poetry is the result of those effusions of the poetic mind having their sources in Spring, Springtime and Spring fever. Rural scenery, cows, babbling brooks, twittering birds, sighing trees, etc., also serve as excellent sources. All that is necessary to write spring poetry is to first read a volume of Kelly or of Sheats. Every poet should let his hair grow to a long and glossy state of waviness. All poets should also have an abundance of pens, ink, violet perfumed paper, a rhyme dictionary and a metranome. These essentials having been attended to. proceed as follows: Look up the chapter entitled. “Spring Rhymes,” in the rhyming dictionary, carefully select a set of words and put them down on a blank sheet of paper. Something rural is of course most appropriate. In one column, for example, you will find “cow” rhyming with “bough” and further on you will find “seen” alongside of “green.” Now you have— cow bough seen green Set the metronome at about sixty per minute and. after listening to its beats to get the full swing in the lines, the result will probably be as follows: 0. see the pensive goose and sporting cow, As they flit from bough to bough; On yonder hill the cheese is seen. As red as grass but not as green. This would not be so bad for a beginning and would show an awakening of the long-slumbering intellect. To attain perfection it is only necessary to seek the muses until you can dash off a spring poem containing anywdiere from thirty to seventy verses in less than an hour. Try it! 58 QUINIAULT The Old Curate and Kate N old curate most accurate and toniporate was affectionate to Kate. The hand of Fate did decorate and to him Kate did twice dictate. To demonstrate we’ll arbitrate to elucidate. So do not under-rate or remonstrate. Now, pretty Kate exasperate the old curate, now desperate, did vitu perate advesperate. 11 is heart she did incarcerate; but her love was very moderate, so him she did refrigerate. But equiponderate, she should be more considerate. Do not abominate, sweet Kate. To dominate is woman’s fate. Love will germinate and then terminate for most girls are affectionate. But one day the old curate received a grand episcopate and started out to celebrate. Even at an ultimate estimate it surely would remunerate. So pretty Kate, so obstinate did not begin to cogitate. She thought before it was too late, to make the old curate her mate. So she began to fascinate. The old curate to culminate did speculate his whole estate. So wily Kate to scintillate did paint until most figulate. The old reprobate, to vindicate purchased the certificate to eradicate his single state. Matters now did complicate. Kate, the curate did supplicate. lie did fabricate. The old curate she’d conculcate. Ilis love she’d not reciprocate. She’d like another candidate, a rah rah boy collegiate, and with him she would consolidate. To be the curate’s associate, she would hate to enunciate; so his love she did abnegate. At love, Kate, a novitiate, ran up against a graduate. The rah rah skate ran for the gate and said that it was getting late. A love for her he’d not create. Kate now had a better estimate of the curate as an intimate. To get him she did machinate and try her best to fascinate and his heart to lacerate. But his love she did venerate. The curate sold his vast estate and to a Southern climrt -did emigrate where he did wed another mate. From society Kate did alienate to bemourn her fate, and as an old maid quite effete, does her nest to captivate, but no new love will germinate for her beauty is inadequate to cause young hearts to palpitate. (Ye End, B’Gosh!). —o—-o—o—o—o—o—o—o— She—“If you really loved me at th ? time, why didn’t you let me know? He—“I couldn’t find a post-card with the right words on it.” Cook—“Mr. Miller told men I had an awfully lovely voice.” Hobi—“Is he that sarcastic?” He—“Lend me a five old man; I’li be everlastingly indebted to you.” Smith—“That’s just what I’m afraid of old fellow.” “Say, Chester where do you get a' your hats?” “At the Cafes generally, but once in a while when I’m lucky I get one in church.” Mule in the back yard Lazy and Slick Boy with a pin on the end of a stick, Creeps up behind as quiet as a mouse Crepe on the door of the little boy’s house. 59 QUINIAULT A Catastrophe HOT sun had sent its unhampered rays over the entire country. Its constant siege had changed the heavy sand of the road into a light dust, which enveloped all vehicles that happened to he out on so sultry a day. The twittering of the birds which had filled tin early morning air had entirely ceased—even the frog in its more comfortable resting place had decided that he was not capable of supplying the energy for a croak and therefore remained somberly silent. The locust alone flew from one spot to another through the still, heated air, meanwhile sending forth with a shrill piping chant, its song of satisfaction. Only a few of the villagers had the courage to remain m the country, and these together with their butter-milk, had stored themselves in their cellars, oecasionalv bringing out their heads to reconnoitre as to the position of their enemy, the sun. Nor did night accomplish much to deliver these unfortunates from this sad plight. The boy tossed in his bed irritated by the mischievous mosquito—the lovers sought the loneliest path in the neighborhood— the would-be poet with a Webster dictionary in hand attempted to paint ;i picture of the scene, while the idealist, forgetting that tin moon had changed places with the sun still sat under a tree and dreamed of the world as it ought-to-be. But in far different circumstances from these was one poor fellow. Having plodded all day along the lonely highway, he had at length reached his desired destination. Seated upon the hard edge he looked down into the glistening waters below. The heat and loneliness of the day had certainly had its effect upon this particular mortal. Surely he was to be pitied;—nor was his the fault. Was he not a victim of the conditions under which he had lately labored? lie brushed the perspiration from his worried brow— looked at his dirty hands and an expression of disgust spread over his face. Again his eyes fell downward. The moon sent its ghastly glow over the gently sloping hills, over the robust oaks until it met its own pale face on the calm surface of the water. The still air remained undisturbed except for the low puff and whistle of some far off pump-mg station. A look of determination entered his countenance, he moved closer to the edge, then—FELL! “Too cold!” he muttered, then turning on the hot water lie resumed his bathing. 60 QUINIAULT Systematic Smith IIE auto drew up to the curb, a large, well built car of foreign make. Systematic Smith, standing in the doorway of the Palmer building, noted with satisfaction that the big car swung up to the curb, and that the driver was alone, went into a telephone booth situated at that particular locality and stayed three minutes. Smith had timed him for a month, day in and day out. and the time was always the same. The big car would swing up to the curb and the man, disappearing in the booth, would come out in two or three minutes and the car would swing off in the traffic and be swallowed up in the maze of trucks. Neglecting no opportunity. Smith spent a week at a garage as a possible purchaser, and had learned to drive that certain make of car. lie also knew that the messenger for the Palmer Banking Company would arrive at exactly the same time that the big car would swing into the curb. This he knew beyond all question of a doubt, as he had timed the messenger and the car together. Smith never took a thing for granted, but always proved his propositions. He hated the word “luck” and never believed in it anyway. Through the same method of observation, he had provided that a rug coming up the river from Ellis Island would pass under Maxwell bridge, and further, that this bridge would swing out into mid stream at exactly three minutes after the messenger had arrived at the bank. Smith knew just how fast, he would have to drive the big car to make the bridge at the proper moment. Coming back from the bridge one night he had accidentally come upon a coal hole, opening into the basement of a vacant tenement. Smith had looked at it for a moment, wondering why it was open, and then with muttered exclamations had passed on. For a while he walked in silence, then stopping suddenly lie muttered to himself. “Ah. I have it. Tomorrow I will strike.” Though Smith was an uneducated man, he knew, perhaps by instinct. that a chain was never stronger than its weakest link, and he knew that in order to run well, his plans must be carried out properly. Promptly the next evening at five o’clock. Smith, standing at his accustomed post, noted the messenger hurrying in his direction. As usual, the car came panting up to the curb and he noticed that it was running perfectly. Smith waited until the messenger was in front of the car. Then walking up to him he tapped him on the shoulder. Involuntarily the messenger pujts his hand over his breast pocket. This was the signal .'or which Smith was waiting, and with a deft movement he pinioned his victim’s arms behind his back. Then before the messenger could QUINIAULT 61 collect his thoughts, Smith had the precious package in his own pocket and was in the car. He grasped the wheel firmly and his feet worked the levers without a tremor. He was strangely cool, and noted with satisfaction that it was foggy and extremely hard to make out objects more than a block away. A shot rang out and a whizzing bullet grazed his wrist, nearing the whistle of the tug, he knew that he would have to put the car to it’s top speed. He was in no danger of pursuit now, the frantic messenger and the panting policemen being left far in the rear. He now noticed that he was approaching the bridge. Setting the steering wheel, he climbed out on the running board, crouching low so as to appear to an observer or to the guard, as on the opposite side of the car. He knew tnat the guard would swear that the car was occupied, and the police on tin-morrow would be dragging the stream for his body. Within a hundred or more feet of the big iron gates he jumped. As it was foggy he was in no danger of being seen by the guard. Skirting a diijty wall, he at last climbed over, landing in a pile of ashes. From this point of observation he saw the big car crash through the iron gates, as if they were no more than toothpicks, and shoot far into space, meeting the muddy river with a splash that could be heard for blocks. He thought again of the guard who would swear that the car was occupied. Keeping in the shadow of the empty tenement house, Smith crept along ui til he reached the coal hole. Then lifting the lid, he dropped silently in, and easily succeeded in working the cover back in place. Sliding down the filthy chute he found himself in a basement that had evidently been used for storing furniture. Seating himself on the end of a ragged sofa he pulled out a candle and placed it on a nearby stool; then extracting the precious package from his pocket he breathlessly proceeded to examine the contents. His breath left him. Never before had he seen such bills of such large denominations. He was rich at last. Tomorrow, while the police were dragging the river for his body, he would escape to sunny California and there perhaps he would be happy. , , j Awakening from his dreams of the future, he looked up—into Vic cold, steel-blue eyes of Detective Holmes. The jig was up, and he knew that resistance would be of no avail. Holmes was armed, and a telltale muzzle was protruding from the top of his coat pocket. “Well,” said Smith “What will it be for you today, Mr. Holmes?” “Oh,” said the other indifferently, “Just a little monthly clean-up, Smith. Come over to the station house. There’s a little game on t -night and the chief would like to talk with you.” And Smith went, lie got in the game. The only piece of luck that Smith had ever worked into his deals failed him. and again he was to cast his hopeless lot in that disagreeable resort, Joliet. Editorial Note—This came to us labeled as a detective story. We allow the readers to make the comments. 62 QUlNIAULT His Lost Youth jjACK Trafford danced a double shuffle on the stone thresh-hold of an imposing looking institution, waved his di JjfTf ploma exultantly in the air and shouted, “Thank good sugg ness, I’m educated.” ?¥ Such is young America’s veneration for the institu- tions of learning. As he stood there one was impressed first of all with boyish youth and laughing eyes that had seen so many good times and so few hardships—the mouth that seemei, to break into a smile so easily. The appearance was altogether manly and he had received at least enough good looks to keep him far from humiliation on such an account. His person seemed to be pervaded with the very joy of existence and by merely looking at him, one almost felt younger and at better terms with the world. As a Freshman he had entered High school in the knickerbockers and checkered cap stage and was immediately impressed with his utter unimportance by such heartless remarks as, “Well, pipe little sunny with the spotted cage!” and “Look what they let in here!” or “Pipe the verdant!” and any number of such cutting ejaculations. From that minute ne hated school with all his might and as the years toiled on his hatred only increased. He hated the idea of having to go to school each day, rain or shine, whether he wanted to or not—he hated his lessons—he hated his teachers and the more he was able to annoy them the less Tedious was his existence. But “every cloud----------” and his silver lin- ing appeared in the person of a little girl who sat in front of him and who inconveniently wore a bright red ribbon on her hair. Not that the color was inconvenient, he rather liked that—but she had the habit of flipping her braid over her shoulder and the big red how was sure to brush his indignant countenance. As this usually brought forth smothered whisperings and suppressed giggling, even this had its advantage. But how he hated the drudging toil of his lessons, or of not getting them and of finding that he grown drowsy by watching the clock jump from one minute to the next, and how he hated to be disagreeably disturbed by “Jack, what was the date of the battle of Marathon?” He would scarcely have been able to tolerate it if he hadn’t been looking forward to the walk home with her. As a Sophomore he was utterly disgusted with life. She had gon to another school to study for a year and henceforth girls were, to him o. vast indefinite quantity. He went in for athletics and succeeded in making sub on the third team. How he loved it and how he longed for the day when he would be playing full on the first team and people would say: “See that fellow? Best player we have. Team couldn’t get along without him!” He loved it because he put his whole heart and soul into it; he virtually ate, talked and dreamed football. But then some old trouble. Football demanded credits and credits demanded study and QUIN T A II T, T (13 that lie absolutely detested and refused to do. He was becoming popular with the fellows and one day he unintentionally heard an older girl remark: “Good looking! Well! I should say he is! Too bad he dislikes girls so!” lie had tried to forget that remark but it clung to him and that one little phrase repeated itself: “Too bad lie dislikes girls so.” He did dislike girls, he always had—or at least nearly always had— and he resoved that he always would. Little did lie think then how this little resolution would return to mock him in after-life. At the end of the next summer she came home again. Coming out of a class room one morning be met her unexpectedly, face to face. There was no way to avoid it. He simply fixed his eyes on bis plentiful feet and calmly sailed past. “Please, have you forgotten me? Have I changed that much?” He turned to confront the most startlingly pretty girl he had ever seen in his life and at that instant all of his ideas and resolutions were shattered and lost forever. She had changed! Instead of the chubby little girl of the braids, here was this tall, slender young lady, dignified and self possessed. He was conscious of mumbling some inane remark about his not being able to forget so easily and that, of course, he thought she would be the one to forget. Now he became immersed in an entirely different line of pleasure -dancing, canoeing and tennis. ITe imagined that he had a monopoly on paradise and he knew of no fellow in the world who was as lucky as he. But after all the Senior year is the sweetest. The realization that nil the good times must end in a few brief months—that all the bes' friends out of your life, makes the scampering hours dearer than ever and every minute drained to its utmost. lie surely bad to finish this year. He couldn’t idle away another year when there was an entirely new and unexplored world lying open to him, waiting for him to come and earn a livelihood in it. And so now the old life was all over. He was glad. There he stood on the threshold of an institution dear to him because of his old associates and good times. Again he danced a jig for pure joy. This new life would not be filled with tedious hours of study, uninteresting hours of recitation and weary hours of ennui. In this new life every day would be different, interesting and exciting. Of course there would be hard work, but he was young and strong and at least it would be a much broader lift . And some day after he had made his fortune he would come back—but never mind. You can guess why if you are young and romantic. The hour was approaching midnight. The dining room of the most fashionable hotel in the city was seemingly deserted. The light was turned low but the snowy cover of a long banquet table, covered with flowers, napkins and half filled glasses was dimly discernible. If a closer inspection was taken one would have seen that everything was worked oit in a color scheme of gold and blue, even to the center piece of chrysanthemums which formed the outline of a “Class of Ninety-one” in yellow splendor. Only the banquet of some old class reunion, one remarks but looking close, here at the head of the table is seen an old man with a yellow and blue flower in the button hole of his immaculate even- 64 QUINIAULT ing frock coat, lingering here after his class mates have gone. Even through the half gloom may be seen the lines around his eyes and mouth, but his eyes are aglow with the fire of his old days and the dreams of his lost youth. He is comparing these last years of worry and cares with those when there were pleasant strolls with fair maidens when tin day’s grind was over. During these years there was no maiden; for life is not always a funny tale and often the prince returns to find the princess gone and the people do not always live happily ever after. Suddenly we see him rising to his feet and with his hand holding high his glass he drinks his last toast. “To my lost youth and to ‘Her’ ”. FRANCES PAINE, ’13. --0—o O 0—O—O 0 0— a s 5 ffi AN ESSAY ON LOVE 0 the world has been looking for a perfect definition of love, has it? Well, why didn’t someone speak before? Any well instructed Physics students will tell you that, love is a form of kinetic energy caused by vibrations, principally of eyelids and hearts; which can be transmitted through practically everything, and has wireless put to shame for both distance and wonderfullness. The first you can remember, that violence shook all the perfectly good sawdust out of the beautiful Grazeilla’s love-fractured body. Afterward when you were allowed to go more freely into the hills, you remember you caught the little rabbit and brought it home. Of course it was too wild and young, and when it died, your wails could be heard for leagues around. When you started to school you became interested in a certain freckled nose in the desk across from you. Also one Saturday when it came over to play with, the awful magnetic vibratory energy caused von to plant a dissonant kiss upon the freckled nose or freckled regions just beneath. In tones altogether justifying the hauteur of eight years, he announced that he did not believe and seriously objected to osculation, and immediately betook himself and possessions home with nose pointed toward the ethereal regions. As a balm for this mother’s was the only love that held you. but now you had gone into that awful state which my definition fits best. New molecular motions starts when the love wave reaches you which causes color in the cheeks in the light, but in the dark there is no color, the energy is used to quicken the waves. Love is very particular about what kind of waves it travels ori. by the way, as the thickest part of a compressional wave is far more beautiful and magnificient than any light wave ever turned out of a prism. The waves are sometimes aided. When he says “Yes” and she says “No,” he connects the negative and positive, and the temperature immediately moves up a little higher than blast heat. Having expounded thus. I don’t know that T know any more about this that you do, so don’t let these words pass as an attempt to construct a machine by which to peer into the deep and dark mysteries of thi? oblivion. BY A PHYSICS STUDENT. QUINIAULT 65 The Knocker REDENNICK was very glad when Corliss, the football captain asked him to be head coach. The rosy outlook for an exceptional team made Tredennick, who at thirty had the college enthusiasm of a sub-freshman, as certain of success as if the winning score was already snugly placarded on the fateful board at the end of the field. It was not long before his sparkling confidence bubbled like wine in the young hearts of the sixty players assembled in the college town. He was a handsome blond fellow, having a brilliant football record. Seated by the captain’s side at the head of the long training table, he seemed at every meal to be a jovial toast master of a banquet in honor of a victory already secured. “Beat us?” he would say to Corliss. “Its going to take eleven De Witts and Heffelfingers to beat us.” The team, kej7ed early to their top notch of effort, made high scores in the September games, and even Bill Spillane. the trainer, began to believe in Tredennick. The college at large was of his opinion to a man, and his derisive comments upon their chief rival were quoted daily at all the eating clubs. During the first week of October, they played a small Western College, which had had the temerity to score on them the year before. Tredennick put in his strongest eleven. Corliss ran seventy points but disabled three of the best players. The next day the varsity team merely trotted through the signals, and Tredennick lined up two scrub teams for the scrimmage work. Studley, a sub full-back, limped out of the tangle of the first down and was promptly hustled to the side lines. “We must begin to be careful of our second string,” Tredennick explained apologetically to Corliss. The captain nodded. “I was thinking of canceling that game with the Brookfield Athlet- . ic Club,” he said, a trifle shamefaced. “Don’t do it,” advised Tredennick. “Those Brookfield people brag too much. We’re after everybody’s scalp this year.” It happened that the Brookfield people had a right to brag. At the end of the first half the score was five to nothing in their favor. Tredennick changed his line-up. replacing the panic-stricken subs with the crippled regulars, and barely pulled the game out of the fire after a scary twenty minutes. “We’ve bound to have a little slump once in a while,” Tredennick declared. “Look at what we did to those Westerners, will you??” Corliss smiled wearily and stretched himself on the window seat of his study, where he had gone with Tredennick in the evening. “Those center men came precious near going to pieces.” said the captain. “Dunscomb’s over-trained.” 66 QTJTNIAULT “Better lay him off tomorrow, then. How about yourself?” “Oh, I’m fit,” sighed Corliss. Tredenniek knew that he was not telling the truth. “I’ve been wondering.” went on the captain, after a pause “if we couldn’t get Sutherland to come over from the city for a few days and coach the ends. If you don’t mind-------” “Not a bit,” broke in Tredenniek heartily. “I’ll wire him tonight.” He sat down at the desk, and Corliss pulled the electric messenger. To Tredenniek the whirl of the crank sounded oddly like an emergency alarm in time of urgent distress. Ilis nerves were acting queerly. They jumped when some one in the hall rapped at the door. “Come in,” said the captain. “Good evening, Corliss.” “Hello, Scott” cried Tredenniek to the short, wiry, broad shouldered man on the threshold. “Where in the world—” “I landed yesterday,” said Scott. “How are you. Tredenniek?” The men shook hands heartily. Scott, the newcomer, had a dark face with thin, straight lips, a bony nose, and a thick chin which almost curved upward. The unpleas-ant effect was accentuated by the ill-fitting black clothes and the slouch hat which he did not remove. “Scottie’s one of our old war-horses,” said Tredenniek genially. “The names familiar enough,” laughed Corliss. “You haven’t been here in a good many years, have you, Mr. Scott?” “In South America since ninety-five.” The famous old half back measured Corliss with a brief glance and turned to Tredenniek. “That was a rotten showing you made this afternoon.” he said. “It might have been better.” acknowledged the head coach, “but— “It ought to have been better,” snapped Scott, and glanced again with his expressionless eyes at Corliss. “When you’re sent through the line, before you hit it, don’t slow down. You were like a girl going in swimming. What are you afraid of?” Corliss flushed and Tredenniek interrupted. “We expect Sutherland tomorrow,” he said. “I trust you’ll stay over and help us with the coaching.” “I will if I’m wanted.” “We’d be glad if you could,” supplemented Corliss, lamely. “All right,” agreed Scott, and banged the door. “Talks out, doesn’t he?” said the coach, in reply to the captain’s questioning look. “Why a knocker like that will have everybody in the blue dumps in half an hour.” Corliss assented mournfully. His apprehensions became troublesome after Scott’s first appearance with the team. Young Studley owned a bull-terrier called, Romeo, whose evil character had earned for him enthusiastic adoption as mascot. Romeo was therefore a celebrated dog, and he rode to the practice on the front seat of the players’ barge. While Sutherland was drilling an end run. Romeo dashed madly across the field and upset the stooping quarter-back. The spectators laughed and applauded. Scott picked up a sole-leather helmet and smashed Romeo over the head with it, and the terrier departed howling. “Who owns that pup?” demanded Scott of the line of substitutes. Q U I N i A tl L f 67 I do, sir,” said Studley, bewildered and angry. “Keep him away from here after this.” “But that’s Romeo,” Tredennick quietly informed Scott. “He’s our pet.” He’s a nuisance just the same, isn’t he?” grunted Scott. “Maybe he was that time, but------” “Then we’re better off without Romeo,” said Scott, and raised his voice to a rasping yell. “You, left guard,” he shouted, “when you get your hands on a man can’t you hold him? Bury that runner—bury him, you farmer.” Dunscomb, the left guard, had been listed on two all-American teams, and he felt privileged to talk back. “I thought,” he began diffidently. “I only thought—” “That will do,” Scott said. “Write me a letter about it in the morning. Don’t waste wind now. You need it, take your place.” “Times up for Dunscomb.” called Tredennick, clicking his watch. “What’s that for?” Expostulated Scott. “Dunscomb’s a little fine,” announced the head coach. “Fine, my grandmother,” said Scott. “He’s loafing. I’d play a loafer till he dropped.” The practice was unusually snappy and accurate. Corliss, who had worked hard, asked Scott’s opinion of it. “Oh, I liked it tip-top,” remarked Scott. The captain did not hide his gratification that the “croaker” was silenced. He exchanged proud smiles with Tredennick. “Yes, I liked it,” reiterated Scott. “It made me a boy again. It took me back to my prep school days. Honestly, Corliss, do you think your team could score on Andover?” The squad held an indignant parliament in the shower baths, and Scott received his official title. “Knocker Scott,” proclaimed Studley, whacking a marble slab viciously with a wet towel. “Knocker Scott. I wish, by thunder, that Romeo had chewed a hole in his trousers.” The eleven uttered a fervent amen. The October scores were unsteady, now high, now low, and the college became perturbed about its record-breaking team. Scott remained during the month. The squad played in a dogged, ill-tempered style; Corliss was visibly worried and Tredennick’s spirit wavered more than once. A mass meeting was arranged in University Hall. There were to be speeches by the captain and coaches, in the florid words of the poster, the team was to be shown that “the college is with it, heart and soul.” Half an hour before hand, Corliss went to Tredennick’s room in the hotel and found a doctor taking his pulse. “Malaria,” said the coach. “I’m all in.” “A fortnight’s rest may fix you up. Trcndennick,” decided the doctor. “Take off your clothes, go to bed, ancl forget football.” “That’ll be easy, won’t it?” laughed Tredennick, mirthlessly. The captain brought down his fist on the mantel, and his face, whiter even than Tredennick’s, twitched. eg quin i a u l t “How’s this for luck?” he groaned. What’s the use, anyhow?” The physician whistled appreciatively. He was an old football man. “And there’s that meeting.” Corliss went on, “the fellows will think it’s funny if some coach is’t heard from. Sutherland won’t be back ’till tomorrow.” “Scott,” suggested the doctor. “Oh the devil,” blurted Corliss. But he discovered Scott down stairs in the reading room and asked him to represent the coaches by a speech. The knocker did not look up from his newspaper. “This team needs work, not talk, now,” said Scott. The meeting was a flat and insipid failure. When it was the captain’s turn to say something, his voice shook, his fingers trembled and his halting words were almost despondent. The youthful audience was sensitive to these symptoms. Tredennick’s illness was buzzed about the campus, and it was known that Corliss had sent a sheaf of telegrams, summoning all the veteran players in the graduate eatalouge of the college to join the coaching staff. The veterans rallied valiantly, but none of them could stay longer than a few days. The Knocker tactitly assumed command of the practice. His tongue scourged like a whip, and the players responded to it with ugly, sulky faces. In Tredennick’s sick room, Corliss, now half sick himself, protested. “Doctor, or no doctor, I’ll have to rise and shine,” answered the invalid. “That game must be won.” “All we can do is our best,” said Corliss. “If the other fellow’s best is better than our’s, we’ll lose.” “Oh, that sounds like Scott,” grumbled Tredennick in disgust. “Don’t get the idea that it’s possible to lose. If you do, we’re as good as whipped already.” The head coach was at the field in the afternoon, the squad made no attempt to conceal its joy, and cheered emphatically. Tredennick’s first move was to instruct the scrub ends to tackle light when Corliss tried to circle them. The Knocker stared, pulled down his slouch hat over his eyes, and retired to a bench. Everybody grinned. Tredennick delivered a short address at the training table after supper. “I want you all to understand,” he concluded, “that this is going to be the best we ever turned out. It must be, that’s all. If anybody says it isn’t, he’ll have to back water.” He glanced argumentatively at Scott, but the knocker did not respond. The glance was public property, and a series of delighted nudges went around the table. No one was surprised when Scott left the next morning. On the day of the game, a week or so later, the town was crammed with enthusiastic graduates. Old football men flocked to Tredennick for information. There was a persistent rumor that the team had no hope of winning, and wondering veterans interviewed the head coach. “Nothing to it,” declared Tredennick. “I was in the hospital, you know. Since I’ve taken charge again, I think the boys have braced up again. If they haven’t it’s not my fault. Scott—well, he was a king 69 Q U I N I A U L T at the game, but he took the backbone out of our lads for a while.” After an early lunch, the squad donned football armor for the last time and assembled in the trophy room of the gymnasium, a place redolent of victory and hung with the emblems of it. Tredenniek made a stirring little address; so did Sutherland; so did a Western Congressman who had played center in other days and who had a national reputation for fiery oratory. The speeches were all in the same key of glorified confidence. The Congressman even selected a vacant spot on the wall to be filled with the emblem of the championship game that was to be played that afternoon. The players trooped exultantly to the barges driven up to take them to the field. Standing on the footboard of the foremost barge, Tredenniek saw a craning of necks and heard indignant whispers. “What’s the row?” he asked Corliss. “Look at the front seat,” said Corliss. “Look at what we’re carrying for a mascot instead of Borneo, Scott’s fired off the dog and taken the place himself. It’s a small thing, but just now, and with the fellows feeling as they do—” Tredenniek looked up and saw the Knocker perched between the driver and Bill Spilland. “Yes,” agreed Tredenniek, bitterly. “The Knocker is a genuine in his business, but before evening we’ll have the best of him, Corliss. You can’t lose—can’t can’t.” When the captain led his warriors through the gate of the fence that skirted the arena, the echoes of Tredenniek’s words filled his ears to the exclusion of the crashing shouts and songs of the thirty thousand people. The umpire, smilingly mechanically, called the opposing captains to the center of the field to give them his interpretation of a doubtful rule. Corliss listened and nodded, but this is what the umpire seemed to be saying: “You cant’ lose—can’t, can’t.” “Are you ready?” yelled the referee, after the men were placed. “Ready ,sir,” responded Corliss, but he was not sure. He was sure of one thing only—that it was impossible for him to lose. He fought cooly, meeting the enemy’s attack exactly as he and Tredenniek had decided that it should be met, and directing his offense with precision. So carefully had his plans been prepared that he had a queer consciousness of having played the game before. When the other fellows had the ball ,he was able to forecast what they would do with it. But his defense was inadequate. He realized this at once but he did not seem much troubled. His team was playing the best it knew how. His eleven made no slip; the machinery devised by Tredenniek was working without a slip. Tredenniek and others had told him that he could not lose. Very well, then. He would do his part, and the result would take care of itself. When the whistle sounded for the finish of the half, each side had scored once, and the game thus far, was a tie, and nobody had been hurt. Corliss laughed as he hurried to the dressing room. The grimy, steaming players gathered in a misty circle around Tredenniek, Suther land, and the Western orator. The Congressman made a speech, prais- 70 QtJlNIAtlLT ing them, not briefly, but to the skies. “The college is proud of you, ' he affirmed, “finish the second half like you did the first and the game is yours.” “That’s right,” put in Sutherland. “Show the other fellows that they can’t win no matter how strong they are.” Tredennick intercepted a puzzled, rather helpless look in the captain’s eyes, and motioned him to a corner. “What do they mean?” murmured Corliss. “Do you want us to plhy for a tie?” The head coach attempted in vain to roll a cigarette with his nervous hands, but his voice was quite steady and confident, and his face wa� lighted with enthusiasm. “Certainly we’ll bring off a tie,” he said heartily. “What makes you think we won’t?” “But,” stammered the captain,” a tie isn’t a win. There are those three emergency plays we haven’t played yet. There’s that fake quarter back kick. Shan’t we------” “Look, here,” said Tredennick.” A tie score is practically a victory from the way things are going; so don’t use any fakes or run any chances. Make it safe. A tie will satisfy everybody, Corliss; you can see that. It’s no time for those risky scoring plays you spoke of. Make it safe.” “All right.” faltered Corliss. “Remember,” added Tredennick. “you haven’t lost the game unless they win. And a tie is enough too— That you Scott? What is it?” The Knocker wore a disreputable old sweater of which the sleeves were pulled up to his elbows. “Bill Spilland asked me to help him between halves,” said Scott “Do the same men go in for the second?” “Sure. Nobody was laid up.” “No,” replied Scott, “but if I was— are you going to play the second half Corliss?” Poor Corliss winced at the imputation. Tredennick would have resented it stormily under ordinary circumstances, but now he felt a somewhat shameful qualm of self-reproach, because a veteran of renown was reduced to the rank of Bill Spilland’s assistant rubber. “If you have any advice. Scott,” he vouchsafed, “let’s hear it. Times almost up.” “I reckon it’s not my place to advise,” said Scott grimly. “If I had your job, we would have eleven new men lined up for the next kick-off. We’d have one new man anyhow,” and he glanced at Corliss, absolutely impersonally, as an oarsman might indicate his suspicion of a blade. “We’ve held our own so far,” maintained Tredennick, “and if we play safe----” “Held your own,” snarled Scott, “we didn’t call an even break holding our own in the days when we had real men on the team. As the game stands, we’re licked. A licking isn’t our own—or it didn’t used to be. But there’s one consolation. We can take on the high school. Maybe we can hold our own with them. This game is lost, unless the other fellows drop dead next half.” QUINIAULT 71 Tredennick, alarmed for Corliss, tried hard to laugh. The attempt ■was a failure. To his dismay he saw that several of the eleven had overheard Scott’s bitter words. Hid Dunscomb. with an ugly set to his iaAV, clinched his fist slowly. Corliss dropped his head and shook it like an angry bull. “Time’s up,” he said. “We won’t make any changes this halt', Mr. Scott.” A broad alley-way for vehicles intervened between the dressing room and the field. “Look out,” said Studley, who was in the van of the squad at the door. “That chap’s auto has got away from him—and good Lord. Romeo.” A huge automobile, gay with the flags of the other college, was sliding rapidly along over the slippery mud. Squarely in its path was planted a belligerent terrier, barking above the clang of the gong, blind with excitement. A colored streamer flew from his neck, and he did not mean to evade his duty of fighting all streamers of another color The driver of the machine worked his levers furiously. A man dived forward and grabbed the dog. The remorseless auto upon them. Some girls shrieked. When Corliss and Studley pushed through the crowd they found Scott sitting on the ground with Romeo growling safely between his knees. “Hurt?” cried Corliss. “Broke my ankle,” replied Scott. “That was a fool thing to do, wasn’t it? But you see, sir,” he said to the owner of the automobile, who was apologizing frantically, “you see it wouldn’t do for your colors to run down our mascot—not today—not till the game’s over. Lift me up Corliss. Bill can fix me.” Spilland stretched the Knocker on a cot in the dressing room and a doctor kept him there. It was young Studley who ran to and from the gridiron, bringing Scott the amazing and glorious news. But Studley could not tell him all—how Corliss, remembering nothing except Scott’s stubborn, combative face, forgot Tredennick’s orders and dared every chance to score; how Dunscomb passed the word along that if Knockers tackled autos anything else ought to be easy; how the eleven nerved by a desperate hope to make Scott take back his sneers, fought forty superb yards to a touchdown with a hair raising audacity which reduce. . Tredennick to the verge of incorherent mania. When the game was over. Corliss and his battered, but victorious team, went straight to Scott’s couch. The Knocker propped himself on his forearm laboriously. “We want to—to thank you for—for pulling us together,” ventured Corliss, with strange diffidence for a winning captain. “Why didn’t you kick on that second down?” demanded Scott “Why didn’t you give Dunscomb the ball on the ten yard line? You (night to have doubled that score. You never will learn the game. Corliss if you live a thousand years. VICTOR HURT, ’l:i. ?2 Q tJ I N t A tJ L f Granada’s Traitor urn m _ Ul I sf _J! |ROM the turret of her father’s house, Ligeria, the daughter of Nisos, watched the ships of King Velos, as they drew near from the Island of Corscia. Their white sails and the spears of the Corsican warriors glittered in the sunshine, as the crested waves rose and fell, carrying the long billows to the shore. As she watched the beautiful sight, Ligeria thought sadly of the days that were gone, when her father had sojourned as a guest in the halls of King Velos, and she had looked on his face as on the face of a friend. But now there was strife between the monarehs of Corscia and Granada, for Phillippi, the son of Velos had been murdered by DacoRs as he journeyed from Granada to Madria, and Velos was coming hither with his warriors to demand the price of his blood. But when the herald came with the message to Velos, the face of Nisos, the king, flushed with anger, as he said, “Go thy way to him that sent thee, and tell him that he who is guarded by the undying gods cares not for men whose spears shall be snapped like bulrushes.” Then said the herald, I can not read thy riddle, 0 King of Granada, but the blood of the Gods runs in the veins of Velos, and it can not be that the son of Claudius shall fall under the hands of thee or thy people. The sun went down in a flood of golden glory behind the purple heights of Mentos, and as the mists of evening fell upon the land, the warriors of Velos made ready for the onset on the morrow. But when the light of the morning flushed the eastern sky, and the men of Corscia went forth to the battle, then strength and their brave deeds avail ed them nothing, for the arms of the mightiest became weak as the hands of a little child, because the secret spell, in which lay the strength of the undying gods, guarded the city of Nisos. And so it came to pass that, as day by day they fought in vain against the walls of Granada, the spirit of the men of Corscia waxed feeble, and many said that they came not thither to fight against the deathless Gods. But each day as Velos led his men against the city, the daughter of Nisos had looked forth from her turret and saw his face, beautiful as in the days when she had sojourned in his Corscian home, and flushed with the pride and eagerness of the war. Then the heart of Ligeria was filled with a strange love, and she spoke musingly to herself. “To what Q tJ I N I A TJ L T 73 end is this strife of armed men? Love is beyond all treasures, and brighter for me than the love of others would be one kindly look from the bright son of Cladius. I know the spell which holds our city, and where is the evil of the deed, if I take the purple lock of hair which the gods have given to my father as a pledge that so long as it remains untouched, no harm shall befall his people. If I give it to Velos tin-struggle is ended and it may be that I shall win his love.” So when the darkness of night fell again upon the earth, all the sons of men were buried in a deep sleep. Ligeria entered softly into her father’s chamber, and shore off the purple lock in which lay his strength and the strength of his people. Then as the tints of early morning stole across the dark heavens, the watchmen of the Corscians beheld the form of a woman as she drew nigh to them and bade them lead her to the tent of King Velos. When she was brought before him. with downcast face she bowed herself to the earth, and said, “I have sojourned in thy halls in the days that are gone, when there was peace between thee and my father, Nisos. O Velos, peace is better than war, and of all treasures the most precious is love. Look upon me then gently, as in former days for at a great price lo I seek thy kindness. In this purple lock is the strength of my father and his people.” Then a strange smile passed over the face of Velos as he said, “The gifts of fair maidens must not be lightly cast aside; the requital shall be made when the turmoil of strife is ended.” With a mighty shout the Coriscan warriors went forth to the onset as the sun’s fiery horses plunged forth across the kindled heaven. Instantly the walls of Granada fell, and the men of Corscia burst into the house of Nisos. So the city was taken, and Velos made ready to go against the men of Salma, for on them also he sought to take revenge for his son’s death. But even as he hastened to his ship, Ligeria stood before him on the seashore. “Thy victory is from me,” she said, “where is the requital of my gift?” Then Velos answered, “she who cares not for the father that has cherished her has her own reward, and the gift thou didst bring me is beyond human recompense.” The light southern breeze swelled the outspread sail, and the ship of Velos danced gaily over the rippling waters. For a moment the daughter of Nisos stood musing on the seashore. Then she stretched forth her arms, as with a low cry of bitter anguish she said, “0 love, thy sting is cruel and my life dies poisoned by the smile of Nuila!” So the waters closed over the daughter of Nisos, as she plunged in the blue depths; but the strife which vexes the sons of men follows her still, when the eagle swoops down from the clouds for his prey in the salt sea. MADELINE IIARRISON, ’13. 74 QUINIAULT How to Become a Professional Violinist 0 BECOME a professional musician requires a great amount of sacrifice and nerve. One of the chief undertakings of a musician is to get a suitable name. Sometimes this requires years of research and foreign study. Some of the best names come from Russia, Poland, and Hindustan. It. is also a very common occurence for musicians to adopt Bulgarian jaw-breakers. However, above all get a name that you think nobody will be able to pronounce and you have a great deal towards a successful career. The next thing to be done is to start taking lessons on the piano. Do not neglect this duty when older than two years of age. The reason for this is that children older than this are apt to die of old age before the height of their musical ability can be attained. After having taken lessons from eight to twelve years, in which time the desired pupil will have learned to play “Massa’s in the Cold, Cold Ground” and “Grandpa Waltz” he should be sent abroad to some good reliable teacher. Here lie should study harmony, composition, lyrics, classic ragtime, and rude-ments of the vocal structure—all of which are quite necessary for a successful musical career. From nineteen to thirty years should be spent m this work. At this stage of the pupils study can well be considered the most critical period. Care should be taken with his food, clothing and surroundings. 11 is hair by this time should have attained the length of twenty-two inches and should be brushed backwards over the shoulders and tied in two long braids. If he has not that-far-away-look in his eyes there is something seriously wrong. This may be caused by improper training on the part of the teacher, in not making the pupil acquainted with an artistic technique. He has now arrived at tin stage where it is impossible for him to appear in public, ('are must be taken for too rapid advancements is impossible. It would be well to let the pupil play at some moving picture house for three or four years in order that he may become acquainted with a small portion of the classical masterpieces, such as “Snookie Ookums,” “Thy Pale Blue Eyes Beam Forth Thy Raptured Love,” and “The Hamburg Rag.” It is now time that the pupil should find out that he has been study ing the wrong method and should hastily begin work anew and proceed with the right ideas. This will, of course, require a complete review of his career for the reason that everything that he ever was taught is wrong and must be righted. If the professional musician ever escapes the poorhouse when his age hovers about the sixty degree temperature lie’s a lucky patron. We therefore conclude that one of the main requirements is to die in the poorhouse and be buried in the pauper’s field, with an inscription over the grave: QUINIAULT 75 The Call of the Violin the sobbing strains of the violin ceased, Annette looked up to see what effeet it had on the professor. He stopped and bent over her, looking straight into her eyes and said. “My child, you are immortal!” Annette blushed. This from the professor! It was the first time he had even so much as told her she played well. “Child,” said the old man. laying his hand on her head as an affee tionate father might do. “could you afford—that is. I mean—Is it within your means to take a trip abroad—study with some of the foreign music masters, I mean?” “Professor!” she gasped. “Me go abroad!” “You have learned all that anyone here can teach you. I’m sure.” he replied, quietly. She almost fainted. She—simple, plain Annette—could play so beautifully. Her heart beat poundingly and her brain worked like fire. She left the professor in feverish haste; she was too stunned, too happy, too excited to tell him her plans. Hurrying down the steps she ran di rectlv into someone. She blushed and stammered an apology. “Oh, you needn’t have minded me. Annette.” She looked up in surprise; it was Philip Austin. “Oh, I was so busy thinking. I hadn’t noticed you,” she explained. “And of whom were you thinking? Me, I hope,” he said with emphasis. She blushed. “No, of course not, stupid. Don’t flatter yourself.” “May I walk the rest of the way home with you to provide for further contingencies?” he asked. “Yes, if you like,” was the indifferent answer. As Annette ascended the stairs of her apartments, she entirely forgot that there ever was such a person as Philip Austin. She rushed t her room opened the door and hastily opened one of the newspapers on the table. Yes, there it was in huge type: Wanted—A lady’s maid to go abroad with HON. MRS. JOHN NORTON. 876 5th Ave. N. Yes, indeed, she would do it. No one knew her and no one cared whether she w’ent or not. She could do it. she knew she could. But she was wrong, for someone did care. She hastily ate a few bites, changed her tailored suit and hat for a neat black dress, apron and cap, put on her wraps and went out in the street. She knew the house, so ascended the steps hastily and rang the bell. A stiff hntler answered it, and seeing her uniform, said, “Servants’ door to the hack,’’ and slammed the door in her face. Annette hit her lip in chagrin, then smiled. This was only the first of her trials After much delay and ceremony, she managed to get an interview with the lion. Mrs. John Norton, who surveyed Annette critically with her lorgnette and after a thor ough examination of Annette’s ability as n maid, she dismissed her with: “Very well; we sail Thursday,” and she glided out of the room. Annette fairly hugged herself at Fortune’s kindness. She made her way hastily to her apartments but as she was about to turn in the grate she again encountered Philip. “Well, Annette Vernon, are you going mad?” he asked her as he surveyed her uniform. “Not at all,” she replied testily, and started to go. “Annette,” he called. “I’ve come to see you.” “Oh. you did? What about?” “Why. to say good-bye; I’m going away,” he replied, eyeing her closely to see what effect his words would produce, but she merely asked blandly, “Oh, where?” “Europe. Dad has got some business he wants me to straighten up over there,” In answered. “We sail Thursday.” Annette started. There could he no dan ger. yet- “Won’t you come in! I’m sorry to se-you go, Mr. Austin,” she said, as she led the way. “Are you honestly, Annette?” She made no reply. “It’s deuced ly lonesome-looking here. Annette.” he said, as he sat down on one of the straight-backed chairs. “Yes, it is sometimes,” she answered with a sigh. “Annette, I-----” “Hush, Philip,” she interrupted. “Not now! Let me tell you my good fortune. Professor Grauphe says I’m through!” “Annette, you’re a brick! Play one last piece for me, won’t you,” he begged. She arose and unstrapped her violin from its case, walked over to the window. The day was fading, twilight was softly gather ing over the distant spires, fanciful shadows filled the room. She tenderly raised her bow. The melting harmonies broke forth in a perfect symphony of melody, then changed to the same throbbing strains which had overcome the professor and finally ceased in a pitiful sob. Philip could stand it no longer. lie arose, clasped Annette feverishly and was gone. She drew back in surprise; grew hot. then cold; her brain reeled. What did he mean. She blamed herself for having let him get this glimpse of her soul. The next day Annette packed her things, paid her landlady, wrote a short note to the professor, one to her aunt in the country, who was educating her and departed for th. residence of Mrs. John Norton. She made no mistake this time in reaching the right door. “What shall I call you,” said her mistress. as she watched Annette pack her trunks the day before they sailed. “Cozzette,” she replied. “Oh. are you French.” Annette made no reply; she pretended no to hear. As she was assisting her mistress on the boat, she noticed the large number of passengers sailing. She felt safer than ever as she thought no one would notice plain little Annette, as she was wont to cal! herself. But, indeed, Annette was not plain. She was exceedingly pretty—big brown eyes, like limpid pools; her hair like burnished gold; wavy and uncontrolable. It as true her beauty was not of the striking sort, but she was very pretty in her own exquisite way. There was the usual crowd sailing—college girls, social climbers trying to get into the peerage of England, Americans sight- 78 QUINIAULT seeing, others who had so much money they didn’t know what else to do so, were trying Europe for a change. Altogether it was a very congenial company. That evening there was to be a ball on deck. Everyone was much excited, especially the coterie of college girls. It was their first trip abroad and this was the first social affair they had attended on shipboard. “Oh. Jane, I do hope he dances with me tonight. lie’s so grand. md they say he just rolls in money. and Patty sighed sentimenlally. “Well, maybe I don’t mis--------who-o-e-e-e-. I burnt my finger!” screamed Jane, as she applied her curling iron. “Oh, my hair just won’t stay up.” She sank exhausted before her mirror. “What on earth will T do.” “I wish we had a maid. We certainly need one,” replied Jane, who was valiantly endeavoring to twist her tresses into a huge psyche. A sudden rap on the door startled them. “Come in,” they chorused. It was the distinguished Mrs. Norton, who had taken a great fancy to Jane and Patty. “Very near ready, girls?” she asked. “Oh, no; I just can’t get ready. Everything goes wrong,” pouted Jane. Patty sighed. “Let me have Cozzette help you,” offered Mrs. Norton. “How lovely,” they exclaimed in one voice. Cozzette.” said she. turning to Annette, who was waiting her orders, “help Miss Carol and Miss Dunseith to dress,” and she glided away. Annette’s heart beat faster and somewhere way down deep in her heart, a little gnawing started, she knew not why. “Oh, stupid, not that way. this way.” and Jane proceeded to apply the rouge to her lips with great vigor. “Oh, I see,” answered Annette. “What will I wear?” and Jane turned over at least fifty gowns, so it seemed to little Annette. “Oh. what will T wear, Patty?” The gnawing grew greater in Annette’s heart. At last they were ready. Annette was worn out with her evening’s work. She returned to her stateroom, fell on her cot and sobbed as though her heart would break. This was the first time that she had felt so utterly alone, so helpless, and then it was that she realized that she wanted Philip more than anything in the whole world. The music had started, the first waltz begun, the dresses were exquisite, the night superb, the music excellent and everybody was happy. This was the only time that Annette had had to herself, so she tenderly drew out her violin, walked swiftly up to the uppermost deck, lifted her bow and drew it reverently across the strings. She played the piece that she had played for Philip that last night. Downstairs Jane was dancing with the gentleman she had so hoped would dance with her. Suddenly, as if by force, he stopped, listened intently for a moment, turned and fled, leaving Jane in the middle of the floor. lie went as if mad to fin upper deck, but as he reached tie-upper stair he paused. No, it could not be she—yet, how like her, her QUINIAULT 79 face pale and exalted in the moonlight, yet her white arms pulling the bow with unutterable tenderness across the strings. “Oh, I beg your pardon,” he said. She turned. “Annette,” he cried with outstretched arms. She reeled where she stood. He supported her tenderly over to one of the big steamer chairs and settled her calmly in it. “Philip! Oh. Philip,” she fairly sobbed when she had recovered. “What is it?” he asked, soothingly. “I’m so glad you came. I wanted you so badly. How did you know who it was?” and her voice again broke. “I knew. dear, there was only one girl in the world that could make me come to the call of the violin,” he answered. Down stairs the ballroom was in confusion, wondering what had become of the good looking, wealthy Mr. Austin. Upstairs. Philip was waiting outside of Annette’s stateroom door while she put on her best and only party frock. As Annette descended the stairs, leaning on Philip’s arm. he stopped and introduced her to Jane as: “My fiancee from New York.” The only mishap was that the Honorable Mrs. John Norton waited on herself the rest of the way over, for now she acted as chaperone instead of mistress to her charming protege. Party (who has brought back the music stool in disgust)—“Look ’ere, Mister Auctioneer, this plaguy thing ain’t no manner of use at all; I’ve twisted it aroun’ and my wife ’as too, but norra a bit of toon can we get out of un!” Freshies definition of salt: Salt is what makes potatoes taste bad when you don’t put any on. Dotty—“Got any powder? My nose shines so I can hardly see.’ Daffydills with a meaning: If Ima Hogan got married would Horace Cook? Undoubtedly. If Dorothy Boutyette became perci-pitated into the river, would Bill Lander? Doubtful. Hotel Clerk—“Will you have a room with a bath?” Hiram—“Wa-al no; I don’t reckon I'll be here Saturday night.” EPITAPH Here lies the body of Mary Anne Asleep on the bosom of Abraham Very nice for Many Anne But pretty tough on Abraham. “It’s all over school!” F. Paine (nervously)—“What?” “The roof—little one.” Chester—“Will you be my valentine?” Martha G.—“Oh, dear! I was so in hopes that I wouldn’t get any comics this year!” C. G.—“I know I have my shortcomings.” P. W.—“It isn’t that father objects to; it’s your long staying.” There was a young man from the city. Who saw what he thought was a kitty He gave it a pat And soon after that He buried his clothes—what a pity! There is a man who never drinks Nor smokes, nor chews, nor swears, Who never gambles, never flirts, And shuns all sinful snares----- He’s paralyzed. The monkeys, our ancestors were educated in the higher branches. 80 QUINIAULT The Land O’ Yellow Gold in jjlMMINGTON, leaving his comrades, climbed wearily to the top of the hill overlooking a dry plain. He took his SOJ canteen from his shoulder and glanced at it anxiously. ||| The heat was very intense and the wind burned his cheeks smartly. He laid down, feeling sleepy, in the shadow of a huge rock and absent mindly pulled at a stunted Mariposa lily. “You poor little thing, how do you manage to live without water?” he whispered through his parched lips. His thirst was intensly increased and he gazed half-stupefied over the plain. It was a brilliant yellow, a sea of burnished gold. The vast stretch was unbroken, save by a black line that wound around and through this sea. This line was evidently a stream and the gold was nothing more than a sea of poppies, great glorious poppies. They were Simmington’s favorite flowers. He had never seen such wonderful ones before. Picking them was easily done as they reached nearly to his waist. He had forgotten his comrades were waiting for water. He forgot everything save that he was alone in a field of poppies that beckoned to him. His hands were growing tired from the bunch of poppies he had picked, and he carefully laid them down promising to return for them when he had gotten more. Half dazed he searched for that line of black to relieve his eyes. Te sky reflected the gold of their petals and the sun beat down pitiously. The silence was so dense, he feared the sound of his voice. He fierclv flung the poppies from him He must reach that stream. He suddenly came to a halt. A sickening sense of horror came ovei him. Undoubtedly this was the place the Indians mentioned so often “The Land O’ Yellow Gold. Yerv often,” they had said, “those who entered this land did not return, or if they did—their minds were those of sleeping children.” Simmington understood now. The sleeping sick ness which came over him was caused by the deadly poppy juice. His hands and clothes were reeked with it. He even became afraid to walk, for he imagined things crawled under his feet, and was afraid to stoop down and part the flowers that covered his feet. So dense was the growth of poppies that he did not. discover the stream until standing on its very bank. The water had a very peculiar appearance. Being in a narrow channel, it hardly seemed to move. Simmington, thinking it did not move, threw in a leaf. For a second it did not stir, than slowly and stealthily it passed from sight. Two water snakes erawled quickly down the bank and frisked about. These were the first Simmington had seen, but he was positive now that he had stepped on a number of them that made him shudder. 81 Q U I N I A U L T He looked down at the water, cool and inviting. Bending down he barely touched the stream with his parched lips before he drew back in horror. It was almost pure poppy juice. The banks of the stream next drew his attention. The poppies grew to their very edge. In some portions, the banks had caved in, exposing the torn and bruised roots of the plants, which were ejecting their juice freely. Simmington, judging from the quantities of poppies, concluded this to be source of the stream. Night came on. The darkness was a relief to his eyes, but not his spirits. lie longed for the sound of a human voice. The poppies suddenly turned a blood-red and nodded and bowed as if in a breeze, but there was no breeze. He longed for some living creature, and as if in answer to his wish, countless snakes crowded down the banks and frisked about the water. Simmington gave a mighty shriek and sat up. He had been lying in the sun’s burning rays for hours. In the distance could be heard voices of his comrades, ignorant of his whereabouts. Still clutching the lily, he staggered and went towards them. Well Simmy, why—well—; He has had a sunstroke: Here, drink this old fellow—we have found a lot of water. But Simmington, staring with unseeing eyes could only mutter, “In the Land o’ Yellow Gold. In the Land o’ Yellow Gold.” GLADYS DRAPER, ’14. --O--O--O—0---O--O--0--0—• He—“What did your father say when you told my love for you was like a gushing river?'’ She—“He said, ‘Dam it’.” “It’s all up with me” said the umbrella. “How sew?” said the needle. “It was this weigh ’ said the scales. “Shut up!” retorted the knife. “Cut it!” screamed the scissors. “Come off!” said the button. “Soak him.’ yelled the hammer. I’ll stand by you.” said the easel. “Take that!” exclaimed the pill. “It’s all over me.” said the floor. I’ll keep shut hereafter,” said the pocket knife. REAL PROVERBS When a burglar asks you this conundrum, “Where’s your money?” you’d better give it up. The good kind of a Jew to gel along with is an ice cream Cohn. I can’t express myself so I’ll have to ship by freight. Many a woman who bleaches her hair wants to keep it dark. When I asked the waiter to bring me a chicken dinner the other day the freak brought me a handful of wheat. Editor—“I suppose you have a paste editor?” Literary Editor—“No, we did have one, but he got too stuck up.” Solvay—“Why were you absent yesterday?” Brand—“Because potassium iodide.” McKenna kicked because he found a suspender button in the hash at the restaurant last week. He probably wanted a whole suit of clothes. There is no satisfying some people. Perhaps some day some hero will invent a collar that a feller can put on without breaking seven or eight commandments. A strong movement is on foot to have the crooks taken out of Charley Creek. As the stream now runs, a raft of logs has to travel about twenty miles to go about four miles down stream. With the creek straightened out, this would save about sixteen miles. The only thing that, would conflict with the success of this movement would be a question of what to do with the extra water. Strangely enough, the writer scribbles these final comments on exchanges with a peculiar and wholly unaccountable reluctance. An unwarranted affection for them has somehow percolated his pores and has caused him to deal gently, nay, laudably with them. Hence this unusual atmosphere, one of enthusiasm. Several of the school papers that we receive seem to be carelessly and thoughtlessly edited. Mercifully have we refrained from commenting upon these. Also we say nothing of a few papers which obviously have a clear case of swell head, pardon the very appropriate expression. This characteristic usually makes an exchange almost repulsive. “The World.” from St. Paul, has a glum-faced cartoonist who doesn’t look as if a funny thought had ever pierced his brain but whose frequent cartoons are too funny for words. “The World” is class from cover to cover. Prom Queen Anne, the place those foot ball terrors come from, hails the “Kuay” with an issue devoted to debate. The debating teams seem all to have been sadly worsted but the “Kuay” heroically comes to their rescue and publishes their photos and a complimentary write-up for each. There’s spirit! Regularly every month the toiling postman ushers in the “Tahoma.” big and fat but frankly uninteresting. We envy the spirit in insisting on original jokes but—frankly again—they’re not funny. Gladly and humbly we doff our hats to the Literary department, of the “Tabula,” Oak Park High, which contains no less than eleven first-class stories, coming as a result of a prize story competition. . What a shock it would be to see eleven stories turned into the “Ocean Breeze.” The “Tabula” also has a splendid artist who has between fifteen and twenty illustrations in every number. The Inaugural number of the “Techtonian” contains a stirring account of the famous encounter between the “Monitor” and the “Merri-mac”, written by an eye witness. Tbe “Techtonian” comes from one of the more recent and practical departures, the technical high school. An interesting bit of statistics lies in a table showing the highest marks in period exams. Such grades as 60. 65. 73, etc., are apparently very good for the highest marks in classes of sixty or seventy pupils. Let us imagine the easy going some of our high school bluffers would have in this in stitution. QUINIAULT 83 The “Tolo” from the Franklin High, Seattle, has a distinctly novel apearance. It seems a great deal like the “Kuay” and “'Whims” but has it way over them when it comes to a real cover design. The “Spectrum’s” Easter number is sublime. Easter bunnies of all shapes, sizes and expressions are seen squatting, jumping and bouncing around its well filled pages, giving it a very festive air. The “Spectrum” is a model of compactness and class. Probably we have received the last number of the ‘ Piquonian ’ ’ from the unfortunate city of Piqua, O. We regret this, because the “Piquonian” was always welcome in spite of its unscrupulous art editor and its spiteful exchange editor. Luckily few, if any, girls get to read the smutty jokes in the “Orderly,” from Hill Military Academy, Portland. This school had a hard time to keep out of the cellar in the basket-ball league with Jefferson, Lincon and Washington High schools of Portland. “The Crucible” from a Normal School in Greeley, Colo., always contains an abundance of material as well as a department headed “Oozoo.” Kindly elucidate. One short year has seen a great growth in the “Lewis and Clark Journal,” of Spokane. Each succeeding issue has been larger, more complete, and better than the succeeding one. This High school has a body called the Senate, which seems to be a broader, more valuable and more practical institution than a literary society. Can we forgive you for printing us the ‘ ‘ Queen Breeze ? ’ ’ The “Mountaineer” has far from lofty ideals concerning good type and appearance. It startles us with a woeful attempt to imitate that original artist, Coles Philips. “The Tattler” comes from a country high school in Tennessee and shows it. It has a wholesome and well meaning air and may be excused for its awkward wording, spelling and spacing. An apology is due the “Eh Kah Nam,” for the style of our notes on exchanges is a deliberate copy of the style used in this entertaining paper from Walla Walla. Apparently its editors have a mania for rough bur-Jap-like cover paper, for every issue has a thick, wooly, flinty cover that we suppose is intended to make an artistic cover. With expression pained and awestruck, we gaze mutely and vacantly into the pages of the “M. H. Aerolith.” Why? Because it’s written mostly in a tongue, totally foreign to the writer, German. The only joke in this publication that looked like it might be a little funny was written in the fatal lingo. This is the kind of a thing that makes the exchange job more loathsome than ever. The boys, in their issue of the “Key,” Battle Creek, came back at the girls with an awful whack. An embroidered ballot box, the evolution of a suffragette from an old cat and two or three other scurrilous depictions, serve as topics for cartoons which ought to forever still all suffrage talk in Battle Creek High school. §4 QUINtAULT The Aberdeen High School E are making great progress in education in Washington. Here where every human activity is highly dynamic, this fundamental interest of humanity, involving all other important interest, cannot lag. We are educationally, as well as commercially, in the very van of progress. The Russel Sage Foundation of New York, after compiling statistics for every state in the Union, places Washington first in per capita expenditure for education. The glory which belongs to Washington in this particular, lies in the promptness and fullness with which she has accepted her duty and in the success which has been achieved in bringing it to realization. If w’e could trace the history of the last twenty years in Aberdeen; if we could measure our progress year by year and could estimate the total cost, patience, courage and resolute perseverance which have been expended in carrying the project of education toward full realization, we would find that our city has kept pace with the great development in the state. In accepting from the people of Aberdeen the privileges and opportunities offered by our educational facilities, every student must assume the responsibility of higher citizenship which the nation demands of such persons who have a chance for an education. The function that education is called upon to discharge is to prepare students for complete living. COURSES OF STUDY We offer four years of English, four years of history, four years of science, four years of Latin, two years of German, two years of French. In mathematics-elementary and advanced algebra and plane and solid geometry. In Manual Arts, courses are given in Manual Training and Mechanical Drawing for boys; and Domestic Science for girls. Besides these we have a well equipped Commercial Department in which practically all commercial subjects are offered. ATHLETICS AND DEBATE The school has been fortunate enough in the last three years to win the State Championships in both Football and Debate. It also has an enviable record in Oratory, having won first place in the Southwestern Washington District Oratorical two times out of the three times that such contests have been held, and second place in the State Oratorical at Seattle two times. ASSEMBLIES. In the last three years the following speakers have addressed the students in assembly: Judge Ben Lindsay, of the Juvenile Court of Denver; Ex-Governor Folk of Missouri; Alexander Irvine, the famous social reformer, whose biography appears with John D. Rockefeller; John B. Ratto, impersonator; Robert Parker Miles, lecturer; Congress- QUINIATJLT 85 man Victor Murdock; President Kane of the University of Washington; Congressman Fordney of Michigan; Miss Austin, Dean of Women of the University of Washington; Ralph Parlette, lecturer, and Ross Crane, cartoonist. Besides these we have had several college speakers from this and other states. OUR GRADUATES. The real glory of a school is its products. Of nothing can it be more truly written—“By their fruits ye shall know them.” Our school is on the accredited list of all State Institutions, and its graduates are admitted without examination to nearly all such institutions of other states. We are represented in twelve different colleges in the United States and Canada at present. Our students are doing good work in each case and some are leading their respective classes in college. Over one-third of the number who have graduated in the last three years are now in college. When we consider the distance Aberdeen is from any college, we feel that this is an excellent record. We are represented by two of our graduates on the Franklin Marshall football team of Pennsylvania. We also have a representative on the Glee Club of the same college. Two of our students have made enviable records on the Oregon Agricultural College football team. One was chosen All Northwest fullback this year and the other was elected captain of the team for next year. At the University of Washington two of our members are on intercollegiate debating teams; one is president-elect of the student Y. W. C. A., and one a member of the Glee Club. At the Chicago Art Institute, our representative won first place in a prize art contest and his picture appeared on the front page of the Chicago Record Herald illustrating the part he took in one of the “Art Plays.” At Stanford University we have the honor of having one of our members president of the Freshman Debating Society. At Reed College one of our graduates ranks in the first division. Not a failure has been reported back to this school during the year of all those who are in college. We feel justly proud of what our students are doing. As this is a Senior issue, we take the liberty of saying that we expect our students who graduate this year, to equal the record of any classes in the past. More students will graduate with exceptionally high marks this year for the full four year course, than ever before. The high average will probably be above that of any other year. GEO. B. MILLER. Football Coach Bell, with his usual foresight, hustled his boys down to the beach for a little practice in handling the ball, even before the opening of school. This warmed up their fighting blood, and the first turnout on the opening day of school, brought out over thirty huskies, all adorned in their football uniforms and eager for the fray. Lively scrimmages were soon resorted to as the boys were already in good trim—thanks for their little sojourn on the beach. Nearly all of last year’s squad were turning out, with the exception of those who graduated. Changes were made from time to time, in the first team lineups, and several of the men were already showing exceptional ability at their positions. Coach Bell paid special attention to his lineup and gave them to understand that they were to act as an effective stonewall in the coming games. Many of the Alumni, and other football enthusiasts were on the Held every evening, encouraging the men, and helping to give strong opposition to them in scrimmage. After several weeks of hard work, during which time several speedy practice games were played with the Second team. Coach Bell announced that his men were ready for the opening game of the season. lie had drilled them into a well oiled football machine, one that was well able to go through the excellent, schedule that was before them. HOQUIAM GAME The first game was played with Hoquiam Oct. 28. Much interest was centered on this initial game, as it was also Hoquiam’s opening game of the season. Both cities turned out full force, to get a line on their respective teams. The two teams were of equal,weight, and the first half honors were about even, neither team being able to score. At the beginning of the second half the wearers of the Blue and Gold took matters into their own hands, and, when the final whistle blew, had a 88 QtTlNlAttljtf total of 15 points to their credit, while their opponents had been Unable to score. The lineup was as follows: Aberdeen: Hoquiam: G. Spoone R.E R. Ingebrigtsen P.T T. Faulk R.G G. Halferty—W. Carter ... ... .Center W. Schumacher I. Pinckney I .T E. Willikson L E S. DeLosh Q.B H. Cross R.H L. Thomson. Capt LH I). Steele TACOMA GAME Our second game was played in the Tacoma Stadium where we de feated Tacoma High School by a score of 21 to 19. The game was a nerve-wracking fight from start to finish. Our men put up a great game of football, and overcame almost insurmountable handicaps. Tacoma’s team outweighed us ten. pounds to the man; their team was chosen from one hundred and fifty candidates, and their training accommodations were perfect, yet they had to admit that our fellows were the better fighters, and that they w'ere exceptionally fast in carrying the ball through a broken field, as the facts of the game show. Tacoma got the jump on us and in just two minutes after the kickoff put the ball over for a touchdown. Aberdeen received the second kick-off, and being held for downs, were forced to punt. The Tacoma quarterback fumbled; Steele picked up the ball and ran sixty yards for a touchdown. He then kicked goal. The score: Tacoma 6, Aberdeen 7. Tacoma kicked off, and after several minutes of old style football in mid-field, Aberdeen changed tactics ,and Thompson receiving a forward pass, ran forty yards scoring our second touchdown. Steele kicked goal. Score: Tacoma 6, Aberdeen 14. The pace was beginning to tell on the lighter team and Tacoma made another touchdown, by line smashes and wide runs. The half ended soon after. The second half was a gruelling contest and it was then that our light line showed up so well. Cross picked up a Tacoma fumble and made a pretty run of 96 yards to a touchdown. Steele again kicked goal. Just before the end of the half Tacoma put the ball over the line for the last touchdown, and kicked goal. The final score: Tacoma 19, Aberdeen 21. CHEHALIS GAME Our next game was with Chehalis High School, and was played at Electric park. It was fiercely contested by both teams, and, though the result was never in doubt, the heavy and well balanced Chehalis team played our men to a standstill on several occasions. The Aberdeen team was weakened considerably when Steele was ruled out of the game after QTJINIATJLT 89 playing only a few minutes. The first touchdown resulted from a clever forward pass, on a “side-line play;” De Losh to Willikson. The next was made on an “off-tackle” line plunge by Cross. Cross’s line bucks were the features of the game. The third and last touchdown was made by Burt, on a long end run of over 60 yards, through the whole Chehalis team. The score stood 18 to 0 in our favor, when the game ended. QUEEN ANNE GAME This was the game that obscured our hope of winning the state championship. Peculiarly enough it was also in this game that Steele won his place of fullback on the All-Northwest High School Eleven. It was very evident that the Aberdeen team were having their “off-day,” and at a most unfortunate time. Their playing was inconsistent. However, there were times when they tore through Queen Ann’s defense with their old-time snap. Queen Anne played a superb game, both on the defense and offense. The score would indicate a very one-sided game, but such was not the case. The Queen Anne men, on several occasions, were forced to extend themselves, to their utmost to keep our boys from crossing their goal line, and were met with strong opposition throughout. Several times during the game, when Cross and Steele were carrying on a series of fierce line plunges, it looked as if the visitors would surely be scored on, but our luck always changed just as the goal was within reach, and the ball would start the other way. The first sign of our ill-luck came early in the game. . One of our punts was blocked near mid-field, and Baker picking up the ball and running behind splendid interference, made the first touchdown. He then kicked goal. The next score resulted from AVell directed line smashes and end runs. Baker again kicked goal. The score at the end of the first half stood 14 to 0 in favor of Queen Anne. The Aberdeen team exhibited more fight during the second half, but could not prevent their opponents from making three more tallies in this period. Two of the touchdowns were made by forward passes over the goal-line. At the final whistle the score stood 33 to 0 in favor of Queen Anne. The work of Allen and “Wee” Coyle, officials, was exceptional, and deserved much praise. JEFFERSON GAME In this game our boys redeemed themselves for their showing against Queen Anne and ran up a score of 17 to 7 on the fast Portland team. It was, without a doubt, the best game played at the Park during the past season. The Jefferson team consisted of men who were older and heavier than those usually found on Hogh School teams, and that they made up a good team was proven by the fact that not a single defeat was chalked up against them up to the time they met us. Their men also deserved praise along another line, for they were the best losers of any team that we had defeated. In fact, nothing that happened during the whole game served to wear the smile from off their faces. The first half of the game was all Aberdeen, and our 17 points were all made in this period. The first score was made by consistent line 90 QUINIAULT plunging and occasional forward passes. The second score resulted from a well timed forward pass, with Spoon carrying the ball. Steeh kicked both goals. Our other three points were made by Johnson, on a beautiful drop-kick. The Jefferson team came back with a vim the second half, and by using their weight to good advantage, managed to cross the line for a touch-down. Then Aberdeen settled down and stopped proceedings. The rest of the game was about even first one side having the advantage, then the other, but neither goal was again in danger. The final score was 17 to 7 in favor of Aberdeen. FINAL HOQUIAM GAME Arrangements had been made for a second game with Hoquiam, to be played on Thanksgiving Day. The result of this game was somewhat of a surprise to the football followers, for Aberdeen was looked upon as the likliest winner. Hoquiam’s touchdown was the result of an Aberdeen play, which was intercepted by a Hoquiam man and converted into a score. Many were of the opinion that this touchdown was closely related to the term. “Fluke.” However, Hoquiam should receive full credit for holding us down during the entire game, and not allowing us to score. The score at the close of the game stood, 6 to 0 in Hoquiam’s favor. SUMMARY Glancing at the following summary it will be easily seen that Aber deen passed through a very successful football season. The boys did as well as could possibly be expected, and served to establish this class of sports on a firmer basis than ever before. Injuries were reduced to a minimum. This was true of the teams we played, as well as our own. nd should be a good reason why football should be continued in all High Schools. Our games resulted as follows: . A. II. S.......................15 II. II. S....................... 0 A. II. S.......................21 T. II. S.......................19 A. H. S.......................18 C. II. S....................... 0 A. II. S....................... 0 Q. A. H. S.....................33 A. H. S.......................17 J. II. S........................7 A. II. S....................... 0 II. II. S........................ 6 Total 71 05 OUTLOOK FOR NEXT YEAR. Our outlook for next year is quite good, in fact, it is better than usual. Only two of the first team men will be lost to us, by graduation. These are Steele and Burt, and though they were excellent players, there will be plenty of good material to fill in their places. Several of the second team men were beginning to show up well towards the close of last season, and they will make some of the “old timers,” on the first team, hustle to hold their places. We can assure the followers of football that there will be plenty doing next fall in the line of games, as Landers has already secured an excellent schedule. Will Landers Homer Cross THE FOOT BALL MANAGER-ELECT Will Landers, the slow moving Sophomore, who was unanimously chosen as manager of the foot ball team for 1913 is far from negligent in arranging a schedule. 11 is work is really exceptional and deserves no small credit. Games have been arranged with Chehalis, Centralia. Tacima and Hoquiam, the last named to be on Thanksgiving Day. November 1 will be the date of the always memorable Tacoma game and the opening game of the season will probably he with Chehalis High School on October 4th. Landers has also been in communication with all the three Seattle High Schools and it is very probable that at least one game will be played in Aberdeen with either Queen Anne or Lincoln. Jefferson High was highly pleased with her reception here in 1912 and it is probable that they will sign up for another year. Olympia is also on the probable list. Landers is to be commended for his work, although it is not a difficult task, it is one that requires a good deal of attention and must be tended to early in order to make a success- of it. Here’s to hope that other managers will be like this glum-faced hopeful. THE CAPTAIN ELECT The boys showed excellent judgment in choosing Ilomer Cross as their captain for the coming season. With the leadership in his hands, one may feel sure that the team will be consistent players and probably winners, and that it will make another strong bid for the State honors. Cross’s ability as a foot ball player goes unquestioned. He is a hard, conscientious worker during practice and is always absolutely dependable during a game. He will not use his position as captain as an op portunity to star himself or as a means of giving “instructions” to the other players of the team; that much we feel sure. His work at fullback. during tin past season has stamped him as being of All-Northwest material, and great things are expected of him in the future. His work is always steady but he is greatly adept at a little grandstand work now and then; his 96 yard run at Tacoma being one of the features of the year. Doubtful it is whether a better choice could have been made. A. H. S. BASKETBALL TEAM, 1912-1913. From left to right—T. WilUkson, E. Willikson, Burt, Adams, Johnson, Cross, Faulk; McClure Coach. QUINIAULT 93 Basketball With the close of the football season, the attention of the boys was immediately turned to basketball. The result of their efforts in this line surpasses the hopes of even the most optimistic. The season was a hard one on our team for our men. for the most part, were very short, and great speed was necessary before they could overcome the height of their opponents. Another thing was the changing of coaches in midseason. This usually has a depressing effect on a team, but in this case. Mr. McClure fitted naturally into the place vacated by Coach Bell, and he soon had the boys playing a faster and better game than ever before. The boys certainly deserve to be highly praised for the way they played in all the games. The strength of our team consisted in the team being taken as a whole, and there were therefore no particular stars. Harry Adams was captain, and his work was always up to the standard. CHEHALIS COUNTY BASKET BALL LEAGUE Club: Games Won Lost Per Cent A. H. S. ..........................9 7 2 .778 Satsop A. C...........................9 G 3 667 Y. M. C. A..........................9 6 3 .667 Moose ................................9 4 .441 Elma A. C..........................9 3 4 .428 A. H. S„ 20; SATSOP A. C., 18, AT SATSOP. Feb 14. 1913 This was the decisive game of the season, so far as A. II. S. was concerned, and our boys showed their mettle by v inning a ruigh game on a strange floor, by a score of 20 to 18. A. H. S., 27; Y. M. C. A.. 11. Feb. 21 191 Just before this game A. II. S. was tied with the Y. M. C. A. an 1 Satsop A. C. for first place in the league. By winning the game we eliminated the Y. M. C. A. from the championship race. This was the last scheduled game of the season for either team, and probably it wa -this fact that was answerable f r a good deal of the roughness displayed in the contest. The lineup follows: Y. M. C. A. Position A. II. S. E. Moss .....................Forward ....................Williksm Wells .......................Fwvard .................E. Willikson J. Mars .....................Center .................;,.T. Faulk Morrance ....................Guard .....................II. Adam; Clark .......................Guard .............Y. Burt—H. Cross E. Willikson scored most points, caging 5 field goals and 9 fouls, a total of 19 points. A. H. S., 23; HOQUIAM HIGH, 16; FEB. 28, 1913 For the second time during the past season, the A. H. S. team met and defeated their old rivals, the Hoquiam High School. The game was Qt '7 U I N T A U L T very fast, and roughness was also noticeable, for this game decided which team would he champions of Southwest Washington. Two championships in a night isn’t at all bad. The lineup was as follows: A. II. S. Position Hoquiam: V. Hurt ........................Forward ............Glanders—%oe? E. Willikson ..................Fo ward ............................ttarr T. Faulk— II. Cross ............Center.................D. Abels. Capt. H. (”r ss—R. Irgebrigtsen ....Guard ..............................Askey H. Adams. Capt...................Grard B. Abels CLASS BASKET BALL Eight interclass basketball games were played to settle the'.class supremacy in this sport. The Juniors had little trouble in winning the coveted honor, as they won every game they played. The two games containing the best competition resulted as follows: JUNIORS, 12; FRESHMEN, 11 The Juniors won' the first game of the interclass series, defeating the Freshmen by a score of 12 to 11. The game was fiercely contested and it was chiefly their superior team work which enabled the Juniors to win. The Freshmen made a fine showing in the last half, and came within one point of tying the schre. The lineup: Juniors: Position Freshies E. Peterson ...................Forward ..................H. Anderson W. Carter.—C. Selberg........Forward ..................B. Campbell R. Ingebrigtsen ...............Center ...................I. Pinckney W. Schumacher ...................Guard J. Penn M. Maurice ......................Guard ...................G. Adamd JUNIORS, 17; SENIORS, 6 This game was much more interesting than the score would indicate. The excellent work of Peterson and Carter, the Junior forwards, accounts for the one-sided score. The teams lined up as follows: Juniors: Position Seniors Peterson .......................Forward Creech Carter .........................Forward Greene R. Ingebrigtsen ................Center Ilalfertv W. Schumacher ...................Guard Hobi M. Maurice ......................Guard Hudson The Sophomore lineup: Sophs: Position. R. Garrison .................................................... Forward H. Thomas ...................................................... Forward G. O’Dell ....................................................... Center P. Morgan.................................................... • • Guard 0. Madison ...................................................... Guard Considerable class spirit was manifest at these games, but in the end it was conceded by all that the Juniors had the best team, and deserved to win the class championship. The Freshmen were the strongest rivals of the Juniors and gave them a close run. Q U I N I A U L T 95 Athletics in General TRACK Two athletic seasons have been very successfully completed, Football and Basket ball, and a third is now under full swing. Track is a comparatively new sport among the county High Schools as it was abandoned by them several years ago and re-established only last year. Nevertheless our boys are showing a lively interest in it, and are working at it with that determination which has gained for them the name of the best scrappers in this part of the country. The “stars” of the foot ball and basket ball teams are holding their own on the cinders and Coach McClure says the prospects are bright for an excellent team. A .H. S. INDOOR MEET; APRIL 7, 1913 This was the second interclass affair of the school year, and was won by the Seniors, who made the high score. 76% points, as compared to 37% points made by the Juniors, and the Freshmen’s 17 points. The Sophomores were not represented. The following is the list of events and the winners in each event: 15 Yard Dash:—Adams, Senior, first; Maurice, Junior, second; Garrison, Senior, third; Hobi, Senior, fourth. Shot Put:—Pinckney, Freshie, first; Hobi. Senior, second ; Halferty, Senior, third; Cross, Junior, fourth, distance, 37 feet. 4 inches. Standing Broad Jump:—Adams, Senior, and Maurice, Junior, tied for first; Hobi, Senior, second; Kinsell, Freshie, third; distance, 9 feet. Running Broad Jump:—Hobi. Senior, first; Maurice, Junior, second ; Kinsell, Freshies, third; Adams, Senior, fourth, distance 17 feet. Standing High Jump:—Adams, Senior, first; Hobi, Senior, second; Maurice, Junior, third; Cross. Junior, fourth, height 4 feet, 4 inches. Running High Jump:—Adams, Senior, and Faulk. Junior, tied for first; Hobi, Senior, and Cross, Junior, tied for second, height, 4 feet 9 inches. 20 Yard Dash:—Hobi, Senior, first; Adams, Senior, second; Maurice, Junior, third; Kinsell, Freshie, fourth. Pole Vault:—Hobi. Senior, first; E. Hobi, Freshie, second; Halferty, Senior, third; Willikson, Junior, fourth, height, 9 feet 7% inches. High Dive From Floor:—Hobi, Senior, and Burt, Senior, tied for first; Faulk. Junior, second; Willikson, Junior, third; height 5 feet, 7 inches. High Dive From Spring Board:—Faulk, Junior, first; Burt, Senior, second; Willikson, Junior, third; Hobi, Senior, fourth, height 7 feet 7 inches. Standing Hop, Step and Jump:—Hobi, Senior, first; Adams, Senior, second; Kinsell, Freshie, third: Burt., Senior, fourth, distance 25 feet 6 inches. Potato Race:—Willikson, Junior, first; Kinsell. Freshie, second; Burt, Senior, third. Hobi, a Senior, won the most points, with Adams, also a Senior, a close second. Some of the records made were very good for indoor work. GIRL'S BASKET BALL TEAM, 1912-1913. Top row—(left to right)—Helen Austin, Cyria Allen, Florence Hook, Olga Lempie. L-wWer row—(left to right)—Cora Bradley, Adele Wilcox, Elizabeth Morgan. 97 Q U I N I A U L T Girls Basketball This year, although our team was very strong, we have been rather unfortunate in securing games. The manager. Cyria Allen, wrote to Montesano, Elma, Porter, and Hoquiam, but as we were the only team that did not play before mixed audiences, Hoquiam was the only High School that responded. The first game of the season was in Hoquiam on February seventh The Aberdeen team was handicapped in this game by the loss of Cyria Allen at forward. At the end of the game the score stood 12-6 in favor of Hoquiam. The line-ups were: Aberdeen Hoquiam Adele Wilcox Florence Hook Cora Brad lev Helen Austin Olga Lempi Elizabeth Morgan Burning with the spirit of revenge, we invited Hoquiam to visit us and after much delay, they came on March 17. This time our full team played, and Hoquiam was unable to make even one basket while the Aberdeen forwards handled the ball in a very dexterous way. Adele Wilcox deserves much credit for her baskets thrown from the field The game ended with the score 11-0 in our favor. After the game, Aberdeen entertained Hoquiam at a St. Patrick’s supper in the Domestic Science Room, and the hatchet was buried until next year. The girls are allowed two games a year before the whole High School. This year the line-up was the Seniors against the rest of the classes. Four of the girls on the first team this year are Seniors and they have been the support of the team for two years. On this account they had an easy time defeating the underclassmen both times, by the scores 12-3 and 20-3. Underclassmen The line-up was: Seniors Neva Bell Kathleen Graham . ... Forward Cora Bradley Marv Bowes Florence Hook Olga Lempi This year seven girls have won their A’s, several succeeded in winning them last year. They are: Cyria Allen, Helen Austin, Olga Lempi, Cora Bradley, Adele Wilcox. Florence Hook, and Elizabeth Morgan. THE TEAM Elizabeth Morgan—Captain—guard. Miss Morgan, the terror of the opposing centers, truly should be honored as the mainstay of the 98 QUINIAULT team. Many were the times that her trusty right arm flung the leather sphere the entire length of the floor into the waiting hands of the peerless forwards. She was the bane of the opposing Amazons and a barrier to the basket-shooting aspirations of her opponents. Adele Wilcox—Forward. The peerless shot. Without the aid of this unerring shot, it indeed is doubtful whether a single victory would have been annexed. Fancy shots were as common and plentiful with her as hairpins. Time after time with marvelous precision she would nonchalently flip the ball into the expectant basket. The only diffi culty Miss Wilcox ever experiences in basket-ball lies in the extreme unwillingness of her flaxen tresses to retain their alloted place. Cyria Allen—Forward. Any basket-ball team would find itself fortunate to have such a versatile young person on its line-up as Cyria Allen. Her work at forward was just as excellent and sensational as were her ravings on the rostrum. Cyria, having a natural mania for breaking things, succeeded in breaking up innumerable plays. Her deadly accuracy in shooting fouls caused much consternation with the IIo-quiam players and it is held as one of the reasons why they were so gentle and pains-taking in the treatment of our team. Helen Austin—Forward. Conceded to be one of the speediest players ever to represent the A. II. S. Miss Austin is capable of covering the hundred in about nine and four-fifths, so goes the story, and often uses her speed to pilfer the ball from the opposing forwards. Miss Austin’s agility, coupled with her dauntless determination makes her an invaluable member to the team. Florence Hook—Center. Miss Hook went into every game with a predestined pugnaciousness, intimidating her opponents and giving increasing confidence to her team-mates. Miss Hook’s ability as a diver is well known and she is carefully avoided by all beauty-esteeming Amazons on opposing aggregations. She plays the game at all times with a snap and never loses her head. Olga Lempie—Guard. Miss Lempie is one of the most robust members of the team and is highly respected for her prowess. All the “heavy work” fell on her and she bore the brunt of subduing any “Rougher” on the opposing organization. Miss Lempie is only a Sophomore and will make an excellent showing in the years to come. Cora Bradley—Center. Miss Bradley, the unbeatable high jumper was noted for the masterful way in which she outclassed her opponents in the jumping line. She has made a record of six feet five inches in the running high jump, as stated by an enthusiastic admirer and we see no reason to disbelieve it after viewing one of her marvelous performances. Miss Bradley will also be here for another year or more and great things will be expected of her. She will doubtless come up to expectations. Senior Class Play March twenty-first, nineteen hundred and thirteen, the Senior Class of the A. H. S. presented to the public “For Old Yale,” a comedy of good rank, staged in the Grand Theatre. It was undoubtedly one of the greatest successes of its kind ever undertaken by the Aberdeen High school. Financially, it has not been surpassed by any of the preceding plays. Within the ten days that the cast began the rehearsing of the various parts it was ready for the public’s inspection and accordingly presented. With the skillful management of director McKenzie, the cast appeared in unparalleled splendor, giving perhaps, to the people of Aberdeen one of the best amateur productions ever shown in the city. It was pronounced by all who went, “good.” There were no particular weak spots in it and it was produced even better than any of the preceding rehearsals prophecied. The music was rendered by the High school orchestra, consisting of seven pieces. The “Barcarole” from the “Tales of Hoffman” was one of the features of the music, being played by the orchestra as an overture, and creating considerable attention. The orchestra had been organized expressively for the occasion, but after the pleasing results attained at this one event it was decided to continue the organization in case it would be of value during the remainder of the school year. The business side of the play was well managed, Will Hudson being the manager-in-chief. It was generaly conceded that the ’13 Seniors were a slow bunch and that to furnish talent for a class play would be highly impossible, as well as ridiculous. Had it not been for the persistant work on the part of the cast and the all-around good management, good results could not have followed as they did. The cast took an interest in its work at the start and turned out earnestly to all of the rehearsals. Only one disadvantage of a real serious character confronted the class in putting on the play, and that was the date upon which it was presented. There seemed to be no satisfactory date upon which a good house could be expected. After much consideration the twenty-first of March, which was Good Friday, was set. The plot of the play is concentrated, as the name designates, about Yale college. Most of the characters were students of Yale with the exception of the “Professor” personified by Mr. Garrison, and a few outside individuals. The first act portrayed a scene in one of the students’ rooms. The second act was an outdoor scene, showing the famous Yale fence. The third act appeared in the training quarters of Yale Q U I N 1 A tl L T 101 college, and the fourth and iast act lay in a reception room to a dancing floor. It was thought by the cast that the third act would be the weak one, as there was a great deal of conversation and acting in it, which is, as a matter of course, a difficult task to perform and keep up the interest and attention of the audience. Elizabeth Morgan as Helen Beckwith, the leading lady, played her part without fault. Must be that the press agents couldn’t see her or something, as the programs were minus her name and the daily paper had no mentioning of her appearance. Elizabeth took her part in the last act as if she was somewhat familiar with similar occasions. Poor Raymond, alias Abraams Meier, as he is known in chemistry, became a little nervous as the final touches of Love’s paint was to be put on. Probably he wasn’t used to such lighted places, and then there was someone looking! We’ll bet Raymond wished that there had never been a love scene written just about the time he stammered out those shocking words,'“Yes, for Old Eli—and you!” McKenna’s enunciation was perfect and he could be heard much the best of anyone in the cast. He rose to his dramatic parts in a masterful manner. “The, Huttula the young Revolutionary Egotistic, did well indeed “Tute” believes in women not to an over elated degree, but he didn’t show his dislike when it came to flirting with “Bee.” You never can tell a person by the way he talks—you have to witness the real actions— Beatrice seemed to have a hard time keeping strings on “Tute” and Redeker at the same time; whether fhis took any extra acting or not we cannot say. Her part was one of the most difficult in the play, requiring considerable acting and posing. Undoubtedly her part was the hit of the evening. “Goody” was right there. Didn’t he look cute when he came out in that white English suit? And it was so tasteful. After every little speel that he was supposed to utter, the audience could be heard drawing long breaths and wilting back into their seats, having been kept on the verge of nervous prostration the while for fear that he would stutter. He pulled through pretty good for him. Old Joe Zelasko managed to create a little attention, especially when that heavy betting was going on. He pulled out that roll of stage money as if it really was something, and sincerely tried to bet it all away. Some people get very rash at times indeed. Count” his brother who was taking the part of the Yale coach insisted that he should say “D----” instead of “Dear” in a certain place for he said “dear” sounded too silly for a man of his position to indulge in. Indeed he was almost as rash as his brother. “Dimple” looked extremely attractive. In fact all of the girls were made up with much taste. Winnifred, played the part of an elderly lady, together with the “Professor” constituted practically all of the made-up characters. Clarence’s and Winnifred’s philosophy was, we think, much more elevated than that which “Hume” ever wrote. However, the words were long enough to convince every one that there was something to it. Dorothy and Helen had minor parts, but it takes a good background to show up the more attractive parts. Hence, they cannot be termed al- DEBATE TEAMS, 1913. Left to right—Cyria Allen, James McDonald, Horace Cook, Mac Maurice. together as a less important factor in the production. To accept a minor part shows a lack of selfishness, and those are the people who are needed in such occasions. George Halferty, the captain of the brilliant Yale Track team, had the most difficult of the boys’ parts. The passages in the play that placed the responsibility of the interest of the audience on one person are extremely difficult to undertake successfully, yet George mastered the occasion in calm deliverance. “Bravado” is the least we can say towards his acting. DEBATE Although Aberdeen High School lost two of the best debators the school has ever known, two who helped to win the State Championship for Aberdeen in 1910 wTith last years class, we have had a successful year in the line of debate. Aberdeen did not enter the state debating series this year on account of the lack of both interest and material on the question. Instead we joined in a series of dual debate. The question decided to debate was, “Resolved: That the State Judiciary of Washington bo subject to Recall.” Cyria Allen, was the only student in school who had had any experience along this line. For two years she had been a member of the Aberdeen debating team and had by this time made a reputation for herself. In a series of tryouts that were held early in the year Mac Maurice, Horace Cook and James MacDonald were chosen as the other members of the team. Maurice had debated last year in the Freshman-Sophomore Debating League. The others had had practically no former experience in this work. One of the debates was held in Aberdeen and the other in Olympia. Each time the team upholding the affirmative remained at home. The first debate was held in Aberdeen March 19. before the Teachers Institute of the County. Pasca Turner and Aubrey Guerin repre- i03 (} tJ t N i A Ij L t sented Olympia while Cyria Allen and James MacDonald spoke for Aberdeen. Splendid arguments were advanced by both teams throughout the whole debate. James MacDonald and Aubrey Guerin sp ke in rebuttal. Aberdeen surpassed Olympia in both delivery and argument and the debate was awarded to them by a unanimous decisi n. .Mr. Baisden, Mr. Nelson and Mr. MacDonald were the judges. The second debate was held on March 21, in Olympia. Horace Cook and Mac Maurice represented Aberdeen, the latter taking rebuttal while Carl Stookie and Ruth Fitzgerald defended Olympia. Miss Fitzgerald had.the rebuttal. This debate was very close and although Aberdeen far surpassed Olympia in their delivery, Olympia’s arguments were very forceful and the judges awarded Olympia the decision by a 2-1 vote. Mr. Davis of the Universty of Puget Sound, Mr. Sperlin, of the Tacoma High School and Mr. Holt were the judges. Taking the two debates together, Aberdeen feels as if she has done real well in securing four out of the six votes of the judges. DECLAMATION For the last several years there has been plenty of talented material in the High School to represent us in declamation. This year, however, tryouts were necessary to secure a speaker in the county Declamatory Contest. Keen interest was taken in these first tryouts and twenty-five poeple entered. From this number, eight vere chosen to compete for the silver medal in the final city tryout which was held April 2 The following numbers were delivered: Sparticus to the Gladiators ..................Horace L. Cook The Soul of the Violin ..........................Sarah Elway The Gipsy Flowrer-girl ................................Marion Crary Toussaint L’Ouverture ................................Dorothy Pearson Appeal to Arms ...........................................Ted Faulk After Emancipation, Suffrage .................Lillian Milette Rienzi to the Romans ....................................Fred Freeman The judges awarded first place to Horace Cook, second place to Sarah Elway and third place to Marion Crary. The county Declamatory Contest was held on April 4. Five schools were represented and the auditorium of the Aberdeen High School wa« entirely filled by people from all cities. The following representatives took part: Sparticus to the Gladiators ..........Horace Cook, Aberdeen John Brown ...........................Wilbur Goss, Montesano A Day of Judgment .................. Blanch Beaver. Hoquiam A Soldier of the Empire...................Clarence Root, Elma One of Bob’s Tramps..............Queen Wellington, Cosmopolis Mr. Baisden of Montesano presided. Mrs. Croxall furnished a very interesting musical program between selections. The five judges, one from each town awarded the gold medal to Clarence Root, of Elma. Aberdeen was very proud of the splendid way that Mr. Cook rendered his selection. 104 Q U 1 N i A t ti f 1 School Notes As the year is nearing the end, one and all look back upon the happy times they have had in our spacious assembly hall. Football, basketball and now track have formed our exciting times in there. In addition to these have been the instructive discourses presented to us from time to time by different well-known people. The first semester, former Coach Bell urged on the boys and Sylvester Damitio reigned over the meetings, but times have changed and Coach McClure (who pours the subject of mathematics into us), trains the athletes while Harry Adams takes charge of the student body. On the 27th of February, Mr. Hazard, of the Silver Burdet Company, talked to the students of the trouble in Mexico and of the conditions of living there. It was almost impossible to believe that such conditions could be found in a country so near our own United States. Mr. Hazard said the filth was terrible and there is no education among the lower classes. The Mexican army seems to consist mainly of criminals and the few Americans who are down there. While Mr. Hazard was in the city he refereed at an Aberdeen-Ho-quiam basketball game. The University of Washington has been twice represented here this year, first when Dr. Kane, President of the University, spoke on March 4th, and later Miss Austin, Dean of women, at the “U” came on March 19th. Miss Austin spoke to the girls alone for a short time and she was heartily received by them. Three years ago Miss Austin spoke before the High School, when it was where the Terrace Heights School now is. Those of us who are now Seniors well remember listening to her in the days of our childhood. This time we were told of her girls at the University and of some of her experiences. The boys came in long before they were wanted as the girls selfishly wanted Miss Austin to themselves. April 24th, Mr. Kreager of the State College of Pullman, gave a very entertaining talk on the subject of why we attend school and receive an education and also what we should do on finishing High Scnool and College. The next morning Mr. Welds of Los Angeles spoke. Mr. Welds has traveled in Egypt. Greece, Palastine and different countries and he talked for a short time on Egypt and Greece. He suggested that this year’s Senior Class give a picture of the Parthenon to the school on leaving. Wc would very much have liked to have had Mr. Welds speak for a longer time. The year has been quite a peaceful one and it is now ancient h’S-tory that dignified Clyde went around with a bandaged hand and the worthy Senior President minus his side-burns but anyway those were mere trifles. Of course there is the fact to consider that our sister city has insisted that all our star athletes are professionals but we wonder if there could have been any jealousy connected with the case. Aberdeen Public Schools BOARD OF DIRECTORS V T. R. WATKINS, President DAN PEARSALL January, 1914. January, 1916 E. B. CRARY, Vice-President J. C. SMITH January, 1916 January, 1915 C. M. WEATHER WAX M. C. DUNHAM January, 1915 ' Secretary ARTHUR WILSON City Superintendent HIGH SCHOOL DEPARTMENT GEO. B. MILLER II. A. CRISSEY Principal English, Algebra RUTH A. FOGLE ORA HOWARD English, German Mathematics, History L. J. CONDIT LUCRETIA RODELL Latin, French Commercial W. A. KING GOLDIE EAGLES History Domestic Science WORTH McCLURE E. K. MEREDITH Mathematics, Athletics Mechanical Drawing II. E. HOLMQUIST A. F. CAVANAUGH English, History Music IRA STINEMAN GEO. E. HUNTLEY Science Manual Training The social wheel for the past school year has spun with unusual brilliance and gaiety, and though its revolutions have not been many, each was set in motion by a master hand, and its circuit complete, leaving a pleasant hum in its wake. On the evening of November 29th the Knights of Pythias Hall was gayly decorated for the Athletic Ball. The function was largely at tended and proportionately enjoyed, which fully compensated the association for the slight financial loss sustained. The committees were. Frances Paine, Ingram Chamberlain. Olivetta Faulkner, Will Hudson, Tom Willikson, and Florence Hook. The Ocean Breeze Benefit Dinner given on the evening of December 6th, in the Hi School Gymnasium was not as largely attended as was prepared for, but was a success withal. The tables were daintily decorated and capably served under the general direction of Miss Frances Paine. On the evening of January 31st the Junior Class gave their anticipated Junior Prom. The hall was charmingly decorated with streamers and festoons of salal, brightened with innumerable pink and tfhite artificial flowers. These blossoms were also used to form a large 1914 in one end of the hall, which stood out proudly against its background of green. The committee members were, Florence Hook. James McDonald. Claire Carter. Amelia Christy, and Ruth Barkley. After the concert given by the Michigan Glee and Mandolin Clubs on April 9th, the visiting young men were entertained at an informal reception and ball, given by the ever active members of the Michigan Alumni and Hi School Alumni. The hall was decorated in maze and blue, the Michigan colors, and the jubilant spirits of the dancers held merry sway. The receipts from the dance were generously transfered to the Senior Class? to assist in defraying the expense of the annual “Quiniault.” The committee in charge were, Mrs. D. T. Ovitt, Mrs. George Flynn, Mr. Fred Weatherwax, Mr. Chris Beltz and Mr. Varde Stieglitz. The patrons and patronesses were the University of Michigan Alumni. On the evening of May 23rd the annual Senior Ball closed the Hi School festivities for the year in a befittingly dazzling manner. Under skillful hands the hall was converted in The Senior Ball on May 23rd was a heartily enjoyable occasion, and no detail had been omitted in the preparation to make this final Hop the glowing event in the High school curriculum of frolics. The music had the right swing, and the delicate taste and good effect shown in the decorations was beyond criticism. The committee was composed of, Victor Burt, Beatrice McKenna, Harry Adams, Winnifred Coats, and Olivetta Faulkner . 107 QUINIAULT Music NSIDERABLE interest has been .made in the music department during the last half of the school year. Students have come to the realization that a high school course is not complete without some music. A large chorus reported, and a male quartet, which has sung at many of the various functions, has made a reputation for itself. Aside from these an orchestra, not entirely composed of high school material, has been organized, which has aided the school in a great many ways. The orchestra rehearsed once a week, and in a short time the members were well acquainted with each other’s playing, which resulted in a well balanced instrumental group. Every high school should have an orchestra. Not only is it a possibility in all schools, bid also an economic and educational addition. It would not be too radical to employ a teacher that understood instrumental music and the instruments and let the orchestra be directed by him. This is practiced to a certain extent in the larger high schools, but makes it a difficult task in the smaller ones because of the limited amount of material and the extra expense. If we Seniors had our high school careers to lead over again it would be in a far different channel as far as the music is concerned. We could have had as well as not a string quartet, and many other combinations that would have added to the merit of our school. But alas, that time is over and the best that we can do now is to give advice to the lower classes. Whether they will take heed of this or not is a different proposition. However, we would ask them to get in the harness and help suppost an orchestra, and a good quartet—something that can please any audience at any time. Some kind of a mtisical number before an assembly helps to fill out the rest of the program, and likewise at any gathering. An orchestra will reduce the expense at the class plays, and public festivals where professional music is required. It would, nc doubt, save a great deal of expense and at the same time give the members valuable experience. One of the features of the musical department was the organization of an Ocarine Quartet, consisting of Chamberlain. Redeker. Huttula and Spencer, which went under the name “Oriental Ocarine Quartet.” This is something new, and consequently created considerable excitement. Mr. Huttula took the tenor parts, followed by Spencer in the second tenor, Chamberlain on the baritone and Redeker. the base. The first rehearsal was held in the high school auditorium—that is it started there, but soon Mr. Miller ordered it out and the refugees took to Room 14. Here they practiced unmolested for several hours, the school children curiously peeping in at the door, not daring to take the risk of adventuring into the main room for fear of being fatally deafened. However, it was not long before real music began to develop from this “potato” quartet as some shamefully called it. Florence Semmens—1908, who is in her Senior year in the U. of W.. is honored as the president of the foremost of women’s clubs at the varsitv the Y. W. C. A. Blaine McGillicuddy—1912, labors occasionally as book-keeper for the Stevedore Company. Killalv Green—1912, is the second assistant superintendent of the water works under the new administration. Fritz Beltz—1907, was defeated by a very close majority for the presidency of the student body of the IT. of W. Beltz is the senior mem ber of the Board of Control and a very influential personality. Roy Wood—1911. and Bert Glidden, 1911V2. are attending the Franklin and Marshall College in Pennsylvania, and report great times. “Rat” is one of the solo members of the glee club and has been traveling extensively with the club. Zoora Karshner—1912, is becoming an accomplished telephonist at the local telephone office and has daily quarrels and confabs with the robust Will Hatch, 1912, who retains a similar vocation. Valdien Weatherwax—1912. is expected home May seventeenth after an eventful Freshman year at Berkley. She says that the final exams are enough to bring nervous prostration to the strongest. Arthur Johnson—1912, is working in the N. P. freight office in Hoquiam. He is negotiating a deal to buy the road which will be closed up some time next week. Ralph Faulkner—1912, Marguerite Cook, 1912 Virginia Watson. 1912. and Vera Johnson, 1911. have returned to Aberdeen after a suppressingly successful year at the U. of W. Varde Steiglitz, 1912; Harold Reed. 1912; Dunbar Pinckney, 1911. and Charles Reid, 1912; held the leads in the recent Quiniault Club play. “The American Consul” and proved their theatrical talent far from limited. Gleim Wilcox, the popular, light-haired brave, has returned from a year’s schooling at the University of California. “Ole” is laboring with the city engineering corps at present. Frederick Hart, 1912, intends to return with his cousin, Lance W. Hart, to Chicago and study with him there. By the way, Lance is meeting more and more success and stands at the head of many of his classes Q U T N I A U L T 109 Wearers of the “A” 1913 FOOTBALL EDWARD WILLIKSON VICTOR BURT CECIL JOHNSON HOMER CROSS DUDLEY STEELE RALPH INGEBRIGTSEN ARTHUR HARRIS GEORGE HALFERTY STANLEY DELOSII WESLEY SCHUMACHER TED FALK IRVIN PINCKNEY GORDON SPOON BOYS’ BASKETBALL EDWARD WILLIKSON HARRY ADAMS TOM WILLIKSON CECIL JOHNSON VICTOR BURT IIOMER CROSS TED FAULK GIRLS’ BASKETBALL ELIZABETH MORGAN HELEN AUSTIN CYRIA ALLEN ADELE WILCOX OLGA LEMPIE CORA BRADLEY FLORENCE HOOK FRANK HOBI TRACK HOMER CROSS GORDON SPOON CYRIA ALLEN HORACE COOK MAC MAURICE DEBATE JAMES MCDONALD MINNIE MAPES AMELIA PEARSON DORIS CRIPE R a matter of six years the “Ocean Breeze” has been the official paper of the High School and has always ranked extremely well with the other school periodicals in the state. In the year of 1912 especially it saw a year of literary excellence and financial prosperity. But the “Breeze” has many faults. They lie partly in the actions of the editor but more in the lack of interest and pure laziness of the people in high school. Last year the paper had a remarkable career and a remarkable editor. He had a talent for writing that was exceptional coupled with a rare business ability and an earnest pride for the appearance of his paper. He was a natural hustler and a worker whose efforts were better than any of the material hand ed in. In the year of 1912-1913 the editor was competent but far from industrious. Had he had support, something yet to be found in this dronish throng, undoubtedly he could have placed an excellent paper before the school. There are two ways of successfully running a school paper: by an editor who has a marked business, hustling and literary ability and by one who has the enthusiastic support of the student body. Enthusiasm always proves one of the greatest boons to a paper. A hope of riotoi ietv sometimes aids greatly but conscientious effort and genuine interest would make almost any paper ideal. The reason our paper has at times slumped is due mostly to LAZINESS! The staff is lazy; they think that their work is not particularly noticed and they sluff. The students are lazy and make not the slightest effort to help. Theri the result is seen. Instead of the mere six issues that were to be issued this year, only four have been forthcoming! Last year the editor put out nine numbers, including a 120-page “Quiniault.” v It shows only to plainly exactly what will make the paper. .. The Ocean Breeze has always been complimented for its cuts and should be. They were the work of Lance W. Hart. 1911. now attending the Art Institute in Chicago: It has usually maintained a high standard in literary work and its Locals department has always been more or less funny. The Alumni have conducted a unique department and Exchanges have always been intelligent in their write-ups. Taking every thing as a whole the “Breeze” should not be ashamed of itself. It has always been interesting and in 1912 it was ranked as the third best periodical in the Northwest, being only excelled by th? “Lens” of the Washington High. Portland and the “Totem” from Linl coin High, Seattle. Bravo! Shall the year 1913-1914 be similar? It can be done! Literary Department Continued A Freshie [FRESHIE is a queer speciman of humanity—if he can be judged as a type of that species at all, and no one realizes the fact to any greater extent than he does himself, after spending a few sociable days under the loving care of his learned Sophomore brothers, his interesting Junior sisters and above all, that distinguished body of human beings—who, with all the wisdom they possess become sometimes doubtful themselves as to whether they are not a little top-heavy—the faculty. The Freshie’s last half year in grammar school was a reign of absolute sovereignity. lie considered himself the most highly educated, interested and wisest person alive. The younger children looked up to him and that he looked down on them was easily evident. He graduated—and then it was that the proud title of “Freshie” floated down upon him like a benediction, enveloping him in a cloud of Sophomores and Latin. When he passed down the street, he believed—actually believed— that he was aware of unknown dignified characters turning around once more to gaze upon the amazing sight after he had passed on. He never had really caught anyone in this act—but what matter? That did not hurt his belief. He went to High school. He walked up the halls so majestically; he elbowed his way through the thirsty crowd to the drinking fountain; (important people should always drink first). But some thoughtful neighbor kindly escorted him to the exterior of the crowd once more. He told unknown and mysterious Sophomores what they could do—and they did not do it! He did not know that a lunch was to consist of a dainty little package just large enough to get lost in his coat pocket, or a bowl of “ambrosia” or a hot dog at the corner store. So in ignorance of this fact, he lugged to school each morning (with the intent to really “fill up”) a No. 7 paper sackfull of eats. This he thought would probably be sufficient to keeD him alive during the afternoon. He decided not to carry a lunch wagon after being cruelly called “The green one who eats so much.” He began in his studies. “This work is so easy,” he said. He would be perfect in everything, everyday for evermore and show the others how to act. But, somehow, (he didn’t understand how) his tongue would not work in class; and silently again blossomed the zeros in the 112 QUINIAULT crimson class book. He found that it was not easy to change the pronunciation of every word in his vocabulary—to spend valuable time in leading the dictionary—and he often found himself wishing that he was black instead of white and could go to the Tuskegee Institute. There he would not have to study Latin. The Freshie thought he could fool the teachers—they would shake at the sound of his footsteps; he shot a little round ball—he never shot any more. He said something cute—strange to say he never did again. It was in the English room that he found his last decorum. There also he learned that gum was not the best thing for the mouth or for the Freshie. and that his own business was the only business he should know anything about. And this the Freshie was. Consider what he is! Changed, but what wonder. Parents, if you have seen marked change in your young hopeful since he has entered his Freshman class, think of this. It explains. —o—o—o—o—o—o—o—o— THE NEW PHILOSOPHY. We have had our “Black Deaths,” our plagues, our choleras our Titanic, earth-quake and flood disasters in which thousands of lives have been lost and millions of dollars have been expended, but we could multiply this by ten, yea. by one hundred and we would not have the cost of war! What groans have broke from father’s lips—what rivers of blood have flowed from brother’s veins, what oceans of tears have trickled from sister’s eyes—what pains have pierced the mother’s heart! But unmindful of these, society has gone on in its careless course, pushing man’s better nature down into the bog in order to make room for the brute in us. We have had our philosopher’s and idealists who have loved to dream of days when, the barbarian being obliterated, man will lay down those terrible tools of savagery and brutality, and join with his fellow-man in a common war against the sins that beset human nature. Indeed. we must confess that “A Great Step” in this direction was taken when the International Peace Congress passed a resolution concocted probablv by the Czar of Russia and Andrew Carnegie, which provided for the change of the limit of the size of a shell from fourteen inches to twelve! However, we verely believe that mechanical science points out a much more logical and expeditious solution of this great problem. Only recently over in England aeroplanes have been sent up without guides in them, and, by means of wireless electricity, bombs have been dropped from them at the required time. More than that, in Germany vessels, devoid of men. have been sent out and their guns have been fired off by men on shore with the aid of electricity. Now with this as a clue, can we not look into the future, and, by a process of Sherlock Holmes’ deduction, see the time when, instead of men going blindly to murder each other, the implements and science of one nation will go to war against the implements and science of another. At least to us this seems very plausible, and “Logic is logic; that’s all I say.” W. H., ’13. QUINIAULT 113 The Eighth Car IjHE bustle around the starters and other officials increased. The races were scheduled to start in two minutes and as the crowd was in the stands and the machines ready there seemed to be no real good reason for delay. With their unmuffled exhausts sounding loudly, the cars drew up in pairs toward the starting line. They were to be sent off at intervals of thirty seconds, one at a time. The starter waved assistants and others back, wratching his stop-watch carefully and then suddenly dropped his hand. With a roar and a screech of grinding gears, No. 44 shot out on the race. Within fifty feet its driver had thrown the car into high gear and was slowly opening the throttle. Before he rounded the first turn the second car repeated the get away performance. All seven cars entered for the race pulled out. The third car. driven by Harding, interests us most. He had designed his car himself and had already won several races with it. It justified his greatest expectations and amply repaid the weeks of work spent upon the designing. Roquez was the mechanician, a Spaniard, with a high regard for Harding and a genious for mechanical creations. He had furnished the wonderful ignition system that helped the car to gain its terrific power. Harding had met Roquez in France and had neatly avoided running him down on the track when a tire on the machine Roquez was driving burst and rendered the speeding automobile unmanageable. Since then the two, in many respects alike, had driven together. Harding as pilot, Roquez as mechanician, they formed a pair that was noted for the cool nerve and reckless driving that won them victories. But today was going to be the hardest and most grinding race in which they had ever participated. Mangrove, holder of many endurance and speed records, had entered the contest with the expressed intention of humbling these two rising powers in the field of endurance racing. Among the others were Faison and Baumricht, another pair who enjoyed great distinction as drivers of the big Benz entry and winners of a former event in the morning. There wras but little money bet, even upon the odds given, upon the team of Harding and Roquez. Harding was especially anxious to win this race, for, aside from the distinction entailed, he wras quite certain that it would be his last and to this fact must be appended an explanation. Harding was in love, or at least he thought so and that amounts to the same thing. He was secretely (for fear of her father’s displeasure) engaged to Dorothy Marshall, daughter of Mr. Henry L. Marshall, the millionaire automobile manufacturer, at whose shops the car that Harding was driving had been made. Henry L. Marshall and his daughter were frequent visitors at the shop and there Dorothy had become extremely interested in the car being built, the romantic mechanician, and the highly tempered and 114 QUINIAULT slightly impressionable Harding in the order named and in comparative intensity. Between the car (first) and the girl (second) the future driver had little spare time. Miss Dorothy Marshall was granted many indulgences by her fond father. She had more money than she could easily spend, entertained until it almost became a bore to her and drove an automobile of her own at a faster rate than the law allowed. The police suffered this because her father was hand in glove with the big men of the city. Bqt with her new acquisition, Harding, had come a new desire. She longed to really go fast on the deadly circle; she wanted to enter the stock car race; she wanted to have Harding take her for rides while he learned the track, until Mr. Henry L. Marshall was both nervous and disgusted. To distract her he gave her a new roadster that was little less than a racer with trimmings. Dorothy was happier. But Miss Marshall had not yet been cajoled from her desire to enter a race though with charming feminine inconsistency, she had practically made Harding promise that this race would be his last. Then came the trouble. Dorothy had declared flatly (as was her way) that she was going to enter for the amateur five hundred mile classic. Harding, from his acquaintance with her, was fearful as to the outcome with her. was fearful as to the outcome of the declaration. She was going to enter disguised is necessary. (Harding became more fearful). If it had been any other girl Harding would have called her a fool, but not with Dorothy—nay, that would never do. He might tell her father Happy thought. But then—Dorothy would be peeved and it would spoil his chances. With a dubious feeling that the bottom had dropped out of things, Harding decided to keep his peace. No more was said of the matter, however, and when, on the day of the race, there were no “dark horse” entree, Harding felt vastly better. In all probability Dorothy had seen the soundness of Harding’s advice not to do anything rash. But on the start, he did not see her in the grandstand where he had expected her. Oh. well. She was probably late. As we have said, Harding and Roquez started third. The same cheers gave them a send-off as had given the others, and by the time they had traveled a third of the lap, the car was speeding along at a sixty -mile gait—not as fast as they would go later, but there was no use risking too much at first. Something that breaks is best broken when going slow (for them) and the car should be well proved before they were to see what speed it could make. The engine’s sharp reports gave way with rising speed to a sound peculiar to racing machines, a sort of half roar and half whistle. Even the acutely listening ears of Roquez could detect no inharmonious sound in the whir and roar of the fabric. The first lap of five miles was almost made. The machine behind was rapidly diminishing in apparent size—its speed was not so great. They later learned that this was due to a leak, developed at the very first, in the radiator causing the driver to fear overheating his motor. The distance between them and the car ahead was the same as far as they could tell. Faison and Baumricht had started first and nothing was to be seen of them. Q U I N I A tJ U T 115 Harding and Roquez passed the grandstand with its pits in front at a ninety mile clip. Their time for the five miles of the first lap was flashed upon the board, 4:19. Baumricht had made the time in 4:15, there was a difference of four seconds—not much, but dangerous. As they passed the pit a large card was displayed from theirs with a numbei 8 on it. Harding could not at first solve the message contained. There was no number 8 in the race. It was certainly not the time he had made, nor had he gone more than one lap, or five miles. Not until he had made half of his next lap could Harding or his mechanician solve the message that one number conveyed. Then a groan burst from Harding. Roquez turned to him but he had not been hurt apparently. Harding’s face, however, bore a look of horrible pain. He merely said in a tense voice: ‘ ‘ Eight cars in the race. ’ ’ Roquez understood. Dorothy had made good her promise and entered the race disguised—a feature seldom permitted. In the mind of Harding a scheme was formulating. To make up the full lap and tell her to leave the track. Roquez saw the resolve as soon as Harding began to put it into effect. They passed the grandstand—time 4:13 for the second lap. Baum-fieid had made it in 4:14 . Never before had the pit helpers seen Harding pass at that speed with a curve, but a short distance away—and the race was only begun. Roquez looked admiringly at Harding, no speed was too reckless for him. At the next curve, only an angle of one hundred and thirty-five degrees, Harding eased the speed but ten miles an hour, as shown by the speedometer. He turned the next, like it, at seventy-five miles an hour. In the straight away he attained one hundred miles. The next turn was a right angle and taken at fifty-five. Down a slightly curving stretch they rushed, the car now seemed to wfisli the whole track and need it, for it “crawled” from one side of the road to the other. Harding must needs fight with the wheel to keep his machine in the track. In this manner they completed the lap. Time, 3:57. But as yet there was no car seen ahead. Thirty seconds is a lot to make up, especially when the driver ahead is experienced and inclined to open his throttle wide. Now the air was full of dust, torn from the track by the terrific suction of the whirling wheels. Harding was grateful for his goggles and put on a little more speed in order to pass the car which he knew must be making it at no great distance ahead. Roquez nodded acquiesance to the move. The dust was choking him. A moment a dull gray mass appeared ahead. There was a hail of fine gravel and sand from the rear wheels of a machine. Then it seemed an eternity, but it was but a few seconds when, with the flames of their competitor’s exhaust enveloping them and a redoubled noise, they passed the car which had started thirty seconds ahead of them. Roquez turned and waved ironically to the occupants of the other machine. The lap was made with the time 3:58. They had lost a second in the dust and in passing the other car. With the air clearer, Harding opened his throttle to its greatest, his thoughts centering on passing Baumricht ahead, for he knew that the eighth car would be first beyond unless Baumricht had already passed it. Harding found himself paying more attention to his thoughts than iid QiitisfiAitttf to the guidance of the mechanical monster beneath him. It swayed periously close to the light fence around the track. Then he recovered himself and the car found its place. A lap was run off, then another, then, tearing down before the grandstand, Harding saw a car ahead. The occupants were getting terrific speed but the speed demon in No. 31, Harding’s, responded and the dust trail before them came closer and closer and yet thicker. Faison, the mechanic, was using the hand pressure pump on the gasoline tank and looking back fearfully. Baumricht held the wheel with his usual iron grip and opened the throttle wider. There was no increase in speed, his machine had reached its limit and the terrific power of the Benz was of no further avail. With his usual caution, Baumricht slowed down for the curve, skidding from the lowest point on the steeply banked curve to a place near the crown of the slope, and Harding drove his machine into the desired lowest place, passing Baumricht from sheer recklessness and skill. Baumricht stolidly frowned and held on his course. Experience had taught him that he still had a fine chance for the prize and he still pushed his machine to the limit of safe speed. The strain of passing Baumricht over, Harding relaxed a trifle and with the relaxation came a suspicious feeling of weakness. Dreaded by the racer is that feeling which speaks of an impending nervous collapse. He gathered himself together for a second time, but his grip was less steady on the wheel and the figures on his speedometer wavered before his sight. He could not lessen his speed for Baumricht was close behind. With but a second’s space between them, they passed the grandstand. Harding’s time was 3:56, very close to the world’s record. Then a strange thing happened and one which has never before been explained to the world at large. It was clearly a nervous collapse, but only a few knew the occasion. On turning the curve just beyond the grandstand, No. 31 passed an overturned and battered car, too fast for any glimpse of its occupants. Harding saw it and the shock was too much for him. “The Eighth Car was wrecked, Dorothy killed.” He dropped forward on his wheel and Roquez just managed to keep the car on the track. Roquez piloted the car to the pits and took in another mechanic, taking the wheel himself. Harding was lifted out and to the ground while a white-clad girl rushed down from the grandstand to the pits. Ten hours later Harding, still very shaky, was talking alone in the library of the Marshall residence, with the fair daughter of the house “There was no eight car in the race,” he was saying, “that was to let me know that $8,000 had been bet on me. My pit helpers thought I would like to know. I am very glad that Roquez won the race after I was out but-----let’s not talk of races now. I must go and speak to your father.” Shortly afterward he came back with a radiant smile and asked a question. A farmer to the Lab did stray And—oh, ’tis sad to tell Mixed glycerine with N02, Which blew that J2L. “Prints yust vat I told you,” writes a German farmer to an editor in advertising for a horse. “One nite the udder day apout a veek agi last month I heard me der noise by der front middle of de pac yard Which did not used to be. So I yumps the pet oud und runs mit der door und ven I see I finds my pig grey iron mare, he was tied loose and running mit der stable off. Whoever brings him pack shall pay five dollars reward.” Heroine (in tragedy)—“Alas! Alas! I am undone!” Student (in front row)—“It don’t show; go on with your part.” Says the visitor to the facetious farmer, “Why do you call that white pig, Ink?” Answers the 'facetious farmer— “Because it’s always running away from the pen.” ' When it was announced that the next classic to be studied would be the “Twelfth Night” the Junior boy whispered across the aisle: “Is that the same as “Twelve Nights in a Bar-room?” “How far is it between these two towns? asked the lawyer. “About four miles as the flow cries,” replied the witness. “You mean as the fly crows,” corrected the lawyer. “No,” put in the judge, “He means as the cry flows !’1 And they all looked at each other feeling that something was wrong. Grandpa had an easy chair Johnny had a pin Papa had a trunk strap And Johnny’s pants were thin. It has been said by travelers that the tipping system in Europe has become most bothersome. “Yes,” said one man recently, “they even have a sign in the washrooms, ‘Tip the basin’.” He—“How slippery the floor is. It’s hard to keep on your feet.” She—“Well, really; I shouldn't mind if you’d keep off of them some of the time.” Customer—“Gee barber, that towr el’s hot on my face!” Barber—“Sorry sir, but I couldn’t hold it any longer.” “Do you know what a hamlet is?” “I think its something you make with eggs.” “Oh, no! Its a little ham.” il8 Q U I N I A U L T The teacher read the following story to her class and asked them to re-tell it in their own words: “See the cow. Is not the cow pretty? Can the cow run? Yes, she can run. Car the cow run as fast as the horse? No, she cannot run as fast as the horse:” This from one of the papers handed in: “Get on to de cow. Ain’t the cow a beaut? Kin de cow git a gate on? You bet. Can she hump it with the horse. No, she ain’t in it with a horse.” Pete—“Say, Rastus, did you ever know that locomotives chew tobac co?” Rastus—“G’wan, no; how you know dat?” Pete—“Wal, they clui-chu to go forward. Don’t they have to chu-chu ter back ’er?” “He slipped on the hard, polished floor and killed himself.” “Sort of a hardwood finish, eh?” Teacher—“Next to America, where would you like to settle?” Voice (promptly)—“Lapland.” “What is a honey separation?” “A chaperone.” Lights out. Actress—“There’s something wrong with the keyhole in the door of my room. I can’t lock it.” Hotel Clerk—“Yes, madam, I’ll look into it this evening.” McKenna—“What are you crying about?” Gilbreath (sobbing)—“Oh, I’ve got a new comb and I hate to part with it.” Physics problem after long winded proof—“Now we have, X equals O.” Sleepy voice from the rear—“All that work for nothing.” A.—“How about that gold mine you bought stocks in last year? ’ Z.—“Why, we’ve called it ‘Bulldog’, its the bravest little mine you evei heard of.” A.—“Bravest?” Z.—“Sure; there isn’t a yellow streak in it.” Freshie—“I was just wondering—” Professor—“What?” Freshie—“If it wasn’t a good thing that a fish dosen’t cackle every time it lays an egg.” EVE’S APPLE How many apples were eaten by Adam and Eve? We know that Eve 81, and that Adam 812, total, 893. But Adam 8,142 please his wife and Eve 81,242 please Adam, total 89,384. Then again Eve 814240fy herself, and Adam also 8124240fy himself, total 8,934,480. Their meeting was sudden Their meeting was sad; She gave her dear young life, ’Twas the only life she had She’s resting ’neath the willows. She’s resting now in peace. There’s always something doing when A freight train meets a cow. William had just returned from col lege, resplendent in the peg-top trousers, silk hosiery, a fancy cream-col ored vest and a necktie that spoke for itself. He entered the library where his father was reading. The old igentleman looked up and surveyed his son. The longer he looked the more disgusted he became. “Son,” he finally blurted out, “you look like a fool.” Later the old major, who lived next door came in and greeted the boy heartily. “William” he said with undisguised admiration, “you look exactly like your father did twenty years ago when he came back from school! ’ “Yes?” replied William with a smile, “So father was just telling me.” The Youth—“They say that trees contribute to the heat of the atmosphere.” The Dunce—“That’s true! ! The birch has warmed me many a time.” AWFUL HURRY She—“What are you doing?” He—“Holding your hand.” She—“Holding my hand?” He—“Yes.” She—“With what?” He—“With my hand.” She—“With which hand?” He—“With my right hand.” She—“Oh, you must stop right away; its dreadfully improper.” Here’s the effort of a Freshie in the A. H. S. as handed in to us: The rose is red The violet’s blue The nasturtium, however, is All together different. Q XT I N I A U L T ii§ Young lady (exhibiting the family album)—“I can trace my family line right back to Adam and Eve. ’ Redeker (anxiously)—“Let’s turn back a f,ew pages.” Brainy—“What is the shortest month in the year?” Smartness—“March, for the wind blows at least four days out of every week.” No matter how hungry a horse is he can’t eat a bit. Water, water! A Junior—“This is my third yeai in High School and next July I’m going to celebrate the Fourth.” What’ll we do with him? Cook (at the library)—“I would like the life of Julius Caesar.” Librarian—“Sorry, but Brutus was ahead of you.” The fraction leaned over and tapped the whole number on the shoulder. “Say,” she whispered, “is my numerator on straight?” Disgusted parent (on seeing his son’s report card)—“Look here, my son, your standings are much lower since Christmas than they were before.” Son—“Yes, I know; but you know everything is marked down after the holidays.” G. G.—“Why do you use paint?” M. N.—“For the same reason that you use resin on your violin.” G. G.—“Why, how is that?” M. N.—“To draw my beau.” Deep wisdom, swelled head Brain fever, he’s dead—‘Senior. Fair one, home fed. Heart busted, he’s dead.—Junior. Played football, nuff said, Neck broken, he’s dead.—Soph. Milk famine, ’tis said. Starvation, he’s dead.—Freshie. Owl-eyed Jonny—“Mama, our governess can see in the dark.” Mother—“How do you know that?” Johnny—“Last night out in the hall 1 heard her tell Uncle Jack that he hadn’t shaved.” Teacher—“What is the stuff that heroes are made out of, Thomas?” Tommie—“You’ll have to excuse me teacher; I’m not booming any particular breakfast food.” Pa heard him give the High School yell For joy he could not speak, He murmured, “Mother, listen To our Willie talking Greek!” Freshie—“Why has that bald headed man got a string around his head?’ Soph—“To know how far up to wash his face.” One time there was a little boy in school who was asked what the principal parts of man were. He replied: “Man is composed of three parts. De head, de trunk and de limbs. De head contains de brains, de limbs contain de muscles, and de trunk contains de bowels which are composed of a, e, i, o, u and sometimes w and y.” Miss C.—“Give me the principal parts of the verb which means to skate.” C.—“Skgte, slippere, falli, bump-tus.” Miss C.—“Falio, failere, flunki, sus-pendus for yours, young man.” Tell me thou “shark” whose deeds so bright Speed thee in they fiery light At what time of night or day Dost thou put they books away? Tell me, ivory-domed one. so weak in math Pilgrim of learning’s homeless path In what depth of night or day Dost thou so joyfully hit the hay? Coot—“I dreampt I was robbed last night and this morning when I woke I looked under my pillow for my watch.” Ced—“Was it gone?” Coot—“No, but it was going.” He prepareth a test before me in view of my ignorance; he stuffeth my cranium with anecdotes, my head runneth over; surely brain fever shal follow me all the days of my life and I shall dwell in Stilacoom forever. DOES THIS SUIT YOUR CASE? F ierce lessons, L ate hours, U nexpected company, N ot prepared. K icked out. Heard in Freshman Latin:—“Hunc, hunc, hunc. Now what comes next?” Voice—“O’Hare’s automobile.” 120 QUINIATJLtf Boy—“I want some paper.” Clerk—“What kind of paper, sonny?” Boy—“You'd better give my fly paper. 1 want to make a kite.” A cautious look around he stole As his bag of chink he chunk Many a wicked smile he smole And many a wicked wile he wole Many a wink he wunk And many a thought he thunk And the barber kept on shaving. —Clayspeare 1III. For Boys Only: Didn’t you if girl a be wouldn’t you this read would you know we. (Read backwards). She—“Oh, look at your foot! !” Carter (indignantly)—“That isn’t a foot, that’s eighteen inches.” Diner—Waiter, how do you account for a hair in the ice, the honey and even in the apple sauce?” Waiter—“Well, thate easy. The ice was shaved, the honey was taken from the comb, but 1 can’t account for the hair in the apple sauce, be cause the apples were Baldwins.” This from English VI: “What does Shelly mean by, his leaves are falling off?” “He’s getting bald headed.” Owing to the number of fires in Chemistry it has been decided to organize an efficient fire department. Those Chemistry students wishing a l osition apply to Chief Quince Adams for civil service examination. Freshwater — (at dinner)—“Gee, but its nice to get back and have snail toast again.’ Waiter—“What’s the trouble? Don’t they have snails in Hoquiam? Freshman—“Yes, but they can’t catch them.” %. “Has my boy been good to the dhmb animals today?” “Yes, mamma. 1 let the canary out of the cage and when the cat caught it I set Towser on her.” Molly—“What on earth is the matter with you?’ Dolly—“I’ve just swallowed fifteen cents and I wonder if you would notice the change in me.” Garrison in English VIII.—“Well she was rather coy, so to speak. Er-not exactly a croquette, but---” Isaac went to the hotel one night and stayed all night. The next morning the porter asked: “Say, Isaac, did you take a bath last night?” “No,”” said Isaac. “Was there one missing. Mr. Stineman—“What plants flourish in excessive heat?” Voice—“Ice plants.” Do you like Caesar? No! Why not? Too much Gaul. Someone kicked Huttula on the leg Toot—“Ba-a-a-a.” Someone—“Mercy, what’s the matter?” Toot—“You kicked my calf.” “Clerk—“How old are you madam? Ancient—“I’ve seen nineteen summers, sir.” Clerk'—“Er-um. How long have you been blind?” A strict Methodist deacon had a daughter who attended a high school dance against his will. When the girl came down to breakfast the next morning, the following conversation took place: Father—“Good morning, daughter of the devil.” Daughter—“Why, good morning, dad.” When charged with being drunk and disorderly and asked what he had to say for himself, the prisoner gazed pensively at the magistrate, smoothed down a remnant of grey hair and said: “Your honor, man’s inhumanity to man makes countless thousands mourn; I am not as dabased a Swift, as profligate as Byron, as dissipated as Poe, as debauched as—” “That will do!” thundered the magistrate. “Ten days! And officer, take a list of those names and run ’em in. They’re as bad a lot as he is.” Made them with the skin side outside He, to get the warm side inside Put the inside skin outside He, to get the cold side outside Put the warm side fur side inside. That’s why he put the fur side inside, Why he turned them inside outside. (1 U i N i A U L T 121 A MODERN HIAWATHA He killed the noble Mudjo Kiwis. Of the skin he made him mittens Made them with the fur side inside ♦ Chester (telling about his dinner) —“Actually the meat was so tough that I couldn’t stick my fork into the gravy.” Mrs.—“Did you know that this beautiful silk dress came from a poor insignificant worm?” Mr.—“Yes; I’m that worm.” “We named the motor boat ‘True Love’.” “What’s the idea?” “Never runs smooth.” Elderly Lady— I want a seat in the coolest part of the house.” Tjjfcket Seller—“Certainly madam. Here’s a seat in the Z-row.” + Der frost und cold ver all arounf Und coldter var das vetter; Two Germans couldn’t sleep alone. So von he slept to-gether. If Mississippi gave Missouri her New Jersey, what would Deleware? I don’t really know, but Alaska. ’Steen—“What is you favorite to- F teen—“My room-mates.” “We had a great crowd at our church last night.” “New minister?” “No, it burned down.” There are just two things that break up most happy homes, man's love for wet goods and woman’s love for dry goods. “What effect does the moon have upon the tide?” “None, it only effects the untied.” „ A keen-eyed but obviously scantily educated mountaineer led his gawky, overgrown son into the college of fice. “This here boy’s arter learn in’ ” he announced. What’s your bill o’ fare?” “Our cirriculum, sir” corrected the professor, “embraces higher algebra trigonometry----” “That’ll do.” interrupted the father. “That’ll do. Load him up heavy with that triggernometry. He’s the only poor shot in the family.” He—(passionately) “I press my suit on bended knee.” She—(cuttingly) “Why don’t you get an ironing board?” Mr. Stineman—“Heat travels faste; than cold.” Voice—'‘Why sure, anybody can catch a cold.” When Willie took the Chemistry His friends took to the tallest tree In explosives he was fond of dea' ing There’s Willie up there on the ceiling. � We would imagine that Clearance Garrison would make a good man when it came to hunting for Tornow. Now that Tornow is dead and is no more we dare say anything concerning him, and that is the reason that we got up grit to write this. In an interview this morning with Clearance he stated that if he were doing the thing he would get one of Uncle Sam’s war vessels and sail up the Wishkah and attact Toi-now from the water. We certainly agree with Mr. Garrison that if Tornow was attacked from the water there would be little danger of the posse getting lost in the woods. This is the only advantage that we can glean from such a proposition as Mr Garrison suggested. It has been rumored that Mr. Garrison is going into the Burns Detective Agency service after he has completed his mem orable high school course. A young man was escorting to her home a young lady who lived on First street. Young Lady—“By the way, can you play baseball?” Young man—“Why, sure.” Young Lady—“Well, I’m safe on first, let’s see you make a home run.” With that, the young man stole one, and when he found that the young lady was not put out he decided that he had made a safe hit. The game was not called on account of darkness. “See how I can count mamma,” said Betty. “There’s my right foot. That’s one. There’s my left foot. Tliat’j two. Two and one make three. Thre feet made a yard and I want to go out and play in it.” i2$ q ti i n i SUGGESTION FOR A DOMESTIC SCIENCE COURSE First Semester: Trigonometry I. Italian III. Fudge making I. Without nuts. Button Sewing I. Two-holed but tons. Second Semester: Hexagonometry VII. Bohemian and Low German IV. Fudge Making I. With nuts. Button Sewing II. Three and four hole buttons. SECOND YEAR First Semester: Chicken dissecting I. First half. Greek IX. First 15,000 words. Noodle Making I. Chewology III. Second Semester: Astronomy V. Treatment of agents and canvassers. Child Spanking I. Crab and Lobster Boiling III. “That dollar that I lent you last night is very religious.” “How so?” “It’s keeping Lent.” “Use the word ‘cannibal' and ‘lonesome’ in a sentence. “Can I bawl some one out?” “Yes.” “If I should ‘lonesome’ money lo Redeker------” “Can you tell me an example of an unproductive spending of wealth?” “Sure. A guy taking his sister to a show.” The only good thing the students get off of in the class play is ’he stage. E. M.—“Why he yawned three times wh,ile I was trying to talk with him.” D. G.—“Perhaps he wasn’t yawm-ing. He may have been trying to say something.” Worthless checks—Plaid trousers with the seat torn out. Kentucky Tailor—“What size shall I make your hip pocket colonel, pine or quart?” Heroine—“You are a wolf in sheep s clothing!” Villain—“B-a-h.” AULT? A powder puff, a cunning curl; A dimpled chin, a pretty girl; A little rain and away it goes A freckled face and an upturned nose. “How did you hurt your hand, Spencer?” “Reckless driving.” “Auto?” “Nope, a knife.” “I must encourage exercises” Said William to himself “And so I watch with eager eyes the Mush bowl on the shelf. I love to sit around and see The water pitcher’s curves, But when I see the sugar loaf It sure gets on my nerves!” THE CHEMISTRY RAG Words by Irving Berlin McKenna. Music by Percy Wenrich Chamber lain. Illustrated by Starmer Spencer. Oh!! That Chemistry rag! Which the whole class uses And its odor diffuses To the far corners of the room It was once a towel But now a scowl Accompanies all of its travels. CHORUS Oh-o-o-o-o-o-o-o that Chemistry Ra-a-a-a-aa-ag The flasks and the tubes And the mint jujubes Do a Highland fling And then we all sing To the tune of the Chemistry Ra-a-a-a-a-g. That Rag! A duel was lately fought in Oregon by Thomas Shott, and Earle Nott. Nott was shot and Shott was not. In this case it was better to be Shott than Nott. There was a rumor that Nott was not shot, and Shott avers that he shot Nott, which proves either that the shot Shott shot at Nott was not Shott or that Nott was shot notwithstanding. Circumstantial evidence is not always good. It may be made to appear on the trial that the shot Shott shot, shot Nott, or as accidents with firearms are frequent, it may be possible that the shot Shott shot shot Nott himself, when the whole affair would resolve itself into its original elements, and Shott would be shot, shot Nott himself, when the whole however, that the shot Shott shot, shot not Nott. Anyway it is hard to tell who was shot and who was not. 123 QUINIAULT “Hurray!” yelled the little Sophomore, “my troubled days are past. An established institution I have found myself at last.” Thus he swaggered through September and triumphant played his part, But ’twas in the cruel October that his card gave him a start. For swaggering and study are not companions true. And when his FATHER saw the marks, he said, “I think I’ll talk with you.” ALAS! They approached from either side. Not a word was spoken. Not a sigh was heard. No one in the room stirred. She was blushing prettily and was as red as a rose. He was pale as death, or the chalk cliffs of England. Slower and slowe r they advanced. Not only a little distance separates them! Will they never reach each other? They approach' They blush one against the other! They kiss! And slowly they continue their separate courses. McKenna has made a billiard! Lady” said Meandering Mike, “would you lend me a cake of soap?” “Do you mean to tell me that you want soap?” Yes’m. Me pardner’s got the hiccups an’ I want to scare him.” THE CHOIR INVISIBLE An old farmer and his wife lived near thfe village church. One warm Sunday evening, while they sat dozing on the porch, the crickets set up a loud chirping. “I just love to hear that chirpin’ noise,” said the old man drowsily, and soon afterward the church choir broke into a beautiful chant. “Just listen to that,” said his wife, “ain’t it just beautiful?” “Yes,” murmured the farmer sleepily, “they do it with their hind legs.'’ • • Oh fear not in a world like this And thou shalt know e’er long Know how distinguished a thing it is • To eat garlic and be strong. Then pealed the alarm more loud and deep While from his couch of down he leaped , No time to bite A little mite When Goody gets up at half past eight. And the paper shall be filled with stories And the jokes that adorn its leaves Shall bring forth peals of laughter Till the readers die of the heaves. When e’er a pony is finely wrought When e’er a tablet is grudgingly bought Some sponger generously picks them all And squares himself by some pit' ful “stall.” B. M„ ’13. They were at the Fourth of July Celebration. The awkard militia was ready to fire the opening salute with their musty, annually-used rifles. Sud denly at the command of the chesty corporal they fired. The young lady, frightened at the din stepped backward into the unsuspecting arms of a bystanding youth. “Oh, excuse me please,” she apolo gized. I was so frightened by that horrid salute.” “Oh, that’s all right,” protested the youth. “Let’s go over and hear the artillery.” How much money did he say he had? He didn’t say. Ah! Become acquainted at once my dear. He must have untold wealth. Waiter—“Which side of the table do you prefer to sit on, sir?” Adams—“If its all the same to you I’d prefer to sit on a chair.” PARADISE A shady room An open fire, A cozy nook, And your heart’s desire! PURGATORY The self-same room With lights a-few The self-same nook With ma there too. INFERNO The room, the shade, The nook, the fire, The blessed chance------ And enter sire. “So you wish to marry my daugn-ter do you, young man?” “Ye-s-s, s-s-sir!” “Well sir, can you support a family?” “How-w-w many are there of you s-s-sir?” 124 QUINIAULT THE EDITOR’S KNIFE Here we have a knife. It looks like a saw, but it is a knife. It be longs to an editor, and is used for sharpening pencils, killing roaches, opening champagne bottles and cutting Hearts out of Bad Men who come into the office to Whale the Josh Editor. There is blood on the Blade of the knife, but the Editor will Calmly Lick it off and then the Blade will be as clean and Bright as ever. The Knife cost seventy Cents, and was imported from London, Con necticut. If you are Good, perhaps the Editor will Give it to you to Cut off the Cat’s Tail. THE BUSINESS EDITOR Here we have a Business Manager. He is blowing about the circulation of the paper. He is saying the paper has entered upon an Era ofUnpre-cedented Prosperity. In a Minute he will Go up Stairs and chide the Edi tor for leaving the Gas Burning while he Went out for a Drink of Water, and he will dock a Reporter Four Dollars because a Subscriber has Licked him and he cannot Work. Little Children, if we Believe Business Managers went to Heaven, we woull Give up our Pew in Church. ODE TO ---------- We knew him as “Old ten Per Cent.” The more he had the less he spent The more he got the less he lent He’s dead—we know not where he went But if his soul to Heaven went He’ll own a harp and charge them rent. Of all the rotten, far fetched, frankly punk jokes that reach our grasping hands, this is without a doubt the worst. That’s why we take the nerve to print it. To Prove—A fisli is a diamond. Proof—A fish dies Diamond Dyes. Mary had a little mule One day it followed her to schule And teacher, like a little fule Got right behind that little mule And for six weeks there was no schule. “What can you say of the Medes and the Persians?” “I never keep track of those minor league teams.” SOME WARM TEXT Colored preacher from the pulpit: “Frien’s, I’se g’wine to preach dis mornin' from de text, “De debil goeth about like a roaring lion’—an’ we shall endeabor to discober who, de deb.il, he was, where de debil he was goin’. an’ what de debil he was roarin’ about.” ♦ Little girl Box of paints Sucked the brushes Joined the saints. F. Paine—“What makes the Tower of Pisa lean?” M. Hogan—“Don’t know or I’d take-some myself.” Mother (at 11:30 p. m.)—“What’s the matter, John? You look disturbed. Father—“I thought I’d give that young man calling on our daughter a vigorous hint that it was time to go. So I walked right up into the parlor and deliberately turned out the gas.” Mother—“Oh, my! Did he get an gry?” Father—“Angry? The young jackanapes said ‘Thank you’.” • Slippery ice, very thin Pretty girl tumbled in Saw a boy on the bank Yelled to him, then she sank. When the boy heard the shout Jumped right in, pulled her out, Now she’s got him, very nice But she had to break the ice. ,ifi He—“Don’t you think I’d make a great gainer on a football team? She—“But I'm afraid you’d be penalized an awful lot for holding.” • “What kind of leather would make good shoes?” “I don’t know but banana peels make good slippers.” Dotty—“Say, how do you spell ‘Sweethearts’; is there a hyphen in it?” Creech—“I should say not. There isn’t room.” . They say that Cupid strikes the match that sets the world aglow— but where does Cupid strike that match? That’s what I want to know. Mr. Holmquist—“Administer means to carry out.” Pete—“Ha! menial; administer the garbage.” 125 QUINIAULT The boy sat in the chapel He did not hear the bell And when he reached his Latin class The teacher gave him extra work. “Why do they always call a ship ‘she’?” “Because she is always hanging around the buoys.” “Talk about raining cats and dogs.” said Carter after his recent trip to Cow Point. “Why that’s nothing to hailing taxicabs.” Landers—“What I want, Mister, is an easy job.” Manager—“How about winding the clock once a week?” Landers—“Well that might do but its kindo’ strenuous. How about tear ing off the leaves of the calender every month?” Last night I held a little hand So dainty and so neat I thought my heart would surely break So wildly did it beat. No other hand into my soul Can greater solace bring, Than the hand which I held last night---- Four aces and a king. Hobi—“The high school is a gregt human factory.” Gilbreath—“Yes plenty of people get canned there.” Bookkeeping may be taught in three words: “Never lend them.” “You say your legs were shot off? “Yes.” “How did you ever gtet home— you were seven miles away?” “Well, the cries of the wounded made my flesh creep so that I got home fairly before I knew it.” “Wasn't that fierce about that fellow who cut off his father’s head with an ax?” “Yes, but what was worse; the jury brought in a verdict of death from sunstroke.” Redeker—“There are an awful lot of girls stuck on me.” Bystander—“Yes, they must cer tainly be an awful lot.” There’s nothing more enchanting More pleasing to the sight, Than this sign upon the blackboard: “My class will not recite.” “You certainly have a trim little waist.’, I said, as she put on her hat But she turned me aside and quick ly replied: “You’re right; there's no getting around that!” , _ “Miss Wilcox, will you have some more ice-cream?” “Just a very little bit, if you please. Only a mouthful.” “Here, please fill Miss Wilcox’s plate up, will you?” Burt—“Say, if I were toothless, 1 would sure pick a pair of false teeth like those in the window there.” Gilbreath—“Sh! It’s vulgar to pick your teeth in the street!” Boot (in Latin)—“Noscam—er—er —ah—um—er--------•” Miss C.—“Pronounce civitas with a hard ‘c’ as in ‘cat .” Boot—“Well, er—er then cativitas.” OUR CIRCULATING MAGAZINES Woman’s Home Companion ........... ......................Ced Greene Everybody’s ..................Dotty The Country Gentleman—Bill Landers The Designer ...............Redeker Home Needlework ..........Gilbreath National Food Magazine .......... ...............“Gutton” Garrison Pictorial Review .......Marsh Reid Ladies World ..............Vic Burt Poultry Success ...............Bone Cross Little Folks ....Faulk, Schumaker Smart Set ..............Paine Co. Modern Priscilla ...............Joe Zelasko Barber’s Journal ...........Spencer Police Gazzette ...............Hobi Farm Press..............Chamberlain Blue Book ............Helen Gleason Green Book ................Freshman Clas 126 QUINIAULT Brickbats “The Ocean Breeze’’ is a fine up to date paper. The exchange department is unusually well managed.—“Buzz,” Hutchinson, Kas. “The Ocean Breeze” was a very creditable exchange. We enjoyed reading it very much. All the material contained in it was high class.— “Piquonian,” Piqua, O. Your class notes and exchange de- partment were very unique. You also have some very good cuts.—“Spectrum,” Jefferson High, Portland, Ore. Instead of forgetting old friends, the Ocean Breeze dedicated its November Number to the alumni. In football, Aberdeen also defeated Tacoma High, but her hopes for the state championship were shattered when Queen Ann was met.—“Eh Kah Nam,” Walla Walla, Wash. “Ocean Breeze,” from Aberdeen. Wash., has a funny cover. Its editor has the same old complaint of the poor support from the majority of the pupils.—“Black and Gold,” Honolulu, Hawaii. “The Ocean Breeze” is published in fine style and, on the whole, is very attractive.—Messenger,” Durham, N. C. “Ocean Breeze” displays an abundance of material, and the book is interesting, but it is too plain. It could be greatly improved by a more elaborate cover, and a better arrangement of the contents. If the cuts were placed at the top of, the page they would add to the appearance.— “Whims,” Broadway High, Seattle. The “Ocean Breeze” is an excellent magazine. You bear the unusual distinction of practicing what you preach. Indeed your artistic matter is original. — “Buzz,” Hutchinson, Kansas. Your cuts are good and the paper is well gotten up.—“Kodak,” Cheboygan, Mich. The “Ocean Breeze” is a paper of pleasing cuts. One would suggest having the location of the paper printed on the cover instead of on the editorial page only.—“Tech-tonian,” Buffalo Technical High School, Buffalo, N. Y. The Alumni number is fine and the covers are good. Your Exchange department is remarkable although somewhat cynical. — “Wilmerding Life,” San Francisco, Cal. THE TEMPEST The sea has knit it’s hoary brow, And sweeps the barren shore In search of shelter, ere the storms It’s mystic depths explore. Far op the jutting rock it climbs Hard struggling to be free, While Angry winds above it moan And sweep it back to sea. And then the clouds with thundrous roar Disperse, and sail away; The setting sun peeps through the mist; The seas rejoice at play. H. G., ’13. HbverttsirtQ FOR A SQUARE DEAL. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS The style you want, the fabric you want, the price you want to pay and a perfect fit. There’s Your Story in a Nutshell It’s also our own story briefly and correctly told. That’s enough for today. Blyth Blyth, Inc. Aberdeen “Just a Little Better” Centralia BRAINY COOKING Means judgment in handling heat just the same as in handling flour. It means proper selection of fuel as well as intelligent choosing of meat or baking powder. Get good heat, even heat, clean heat; get and pay for just exactly what you need, no more no less! That’s the GAS RANGE WAY, through and through. Seldom is such simplicity put into an appliance as in this woman-saving cooker. Yon can buy one of these for $10.00 and up. We make no charge for connecting and run free service pipe to house. GAS COMPANY 103 W. HERON iltesBFgrp’s 5 tu in FOR PROMPTNESS AND PERFECTION, LET US DO YOUR KODAK DEVELOPING THIS VACATION The Halftone Cuts Appearing in This Publication Are From Messegee's Photos WHEN YOU PURCHASE THE “| SYSTEM CLOTHES FOR YOUNG GENTLEMEN YOU ARE MAKING A WISE DECISION PORTER CO. ENGRA VING For College and School Publications TIIE above is the title of our Book of Instructions which is loaned to the staff of each publication for which wc do the engraving. This book contains 164 pages, is profusely illustrated and covers every phase of the engraving question as it would interest the staff of a college or school publication. Full description and information as to how to obtain a copy sent to any one interested. WE MAKE A SPECIALTY OF Halftones Color Plates Zinc Etchings Designing, Etc. For College and High School Annuals and Periodicals. Also fine copper plate and steel die embossed stationery such as Commencement Invitations. Visiting Cards, Fraternity Stationery, Etc. ACID BLAST HALFTONES All of our halftones are etched by the Levy Blast process, which insures deeper and more evenly etched plates than it is possible to get by the old tub process, thus insuring best possible results from the printer. The engravings for this Annual were made by us. Mail orders a specialty. • Samples sent free if you state what you are especially interested in. Stafford Engraving Company Artists Engravers Electrotypers Engravings for College and School Publications a Specialty Century Building Indianapolis, Ind. BIJOU THEATRE ABERDEEN’S LIVE WIRE OFFERING THE Greatest Variety of Amusements of Any Theatre on The Pacific Coast POPULAR PRICES ALWAYS PREVAIL The Model Store -1 J ■' The Place Where You Can Get the Best Values in Cut Glass, Fancy China. Dinner and Kitchenware OUR COFFEES AND TEAS EXCEL THEM ALL THE MODEL Phone 2191 207 South G St. I -...- -- - - - ' Flickerless Pictures Excellent Ventilation THE DREAM THEATRE OUR PHOTOPLAYS ARE OF THE FIRST CLASS REMEMBER! We still have the mirror screen that eliminates sore eyes 10c ADMISSION 10c The United States National Bank PAYS 4 PER CENT. ON SAVINGS DEPOSITS. KENTS SAFE DEPOSIT BOXES. AND WELCOMES SMALL ACCOUNTS. ........PRESIDENT ... VICE-PRESIDENT ......... CASHIER ASSISTANT CASHIER W. J. PATTERSON W. B. MACK ... R. C. VANDEVORT A. S. HOONAN .... ------ WE COULD SELL CHEAPER SHOES But We Won't! WE WOULD SELL BETTER SHOES t But We Can't NEW SPRING STYLES NOW READY Brow ns Elmore Shoe Co. ABERDEEN’S QUALITY SHOP Grays Harbor Hardware Co. MILL, LOGGING, RAILROAD AND CONTRACTOR’S SUPPLIES Shelf and Heavy Hardware, Iron and Steel Pipe and Fittings 415 So. G St., Cor. E. River St. Phone 437 Aberdeen, Wash. F. F. Garage, Inc. Cadillac - Ford - Lozier v PACKARD SERVICE Sl 1 - ■■ PHONE 540 113-115 W. HERON ST. We Are Properly Equipped to Do Your m Do it in a first-class manner, and do it while you wait. The quality of the work we do speaks for itself because we have Champion machinery to dh it with. JACOBSON The Quick Repairer. 209i 2 South G Street Grammatte’s Sweet Shop RED ROSES FOR GRADUATION ORDER EARLY Visit our Soda Fountain after all High School functions “You’ll be treated right” — YOU NEED NO SKILL TO KODAK AND NOTHING TELLS THE STORY SO WELL ..... “ 'A %• .• ■ ■ • . . -.i t EVERYTHING FOR KODAKING AT OUR STORE BECKENHAUER DRUG CO. Phones 195 and 196 FRESH ICE CREAM FRESH C WE SELL PRODUCTS OF THE HIGHEST QUALITY ONLY M K E ICE CREAM IN ALL DIFFERENT I A FLAVORS L M THE HILLSIDE DAIRY K PHONE 174 FRESH BUTTER - MILK FRESH Overland and Hudson STEWART’S GARAGE 414 East Market Street Begin Married Life Bight Buying your furniture of , ,KAUFMAN CO, 212 East Heron St. Phone 1514 Presents? WHY SURE, ALL KINDS OF THEM We Specialize on Graduation Presents THOMAS J. THOMAS Jeweler Cor. G and Wishkah Phone 5641 KING’S SPECIALTY OF HAIR CUTTING FEATHEREDGE, POMPADOUR, PUFF, CHILDREN’S, ETC. BATH CONFECTIONERY IN CONNECTION Payette Music House VICTOR VICTROLA, COLUMBIA GRAPHANOLA EDISON TALKING MACHINES SET MUSIC MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS NEW HOME, WHITE AND STANDARD SEWING MACHINES EASY TERMS 315 EAST WISHKAH PHONE 532 WE HANDLE ALL SIZES AND KINDS OF TIMBER Buy your next lot of'finished, or unfinished lumber of us Anderson Middleton Every Young Man wants the best he can get for his money. You_can walk into Tiny store and get a suit ,for $20. But it isn’t worth a cent more. THE “PECK” $20.00 cannot be duplicated for less than one-quarter more. Ev-ejry thread in a “Peck 20’’ is. all pure wool. A. W. BARKLEY “Pay Bess and Dress Better’ IF you want your things splendidly laundered, take them to the laundry with the reputation. “The best, most reliable laundry is the City Hand Laundry Silks and Flannels a Speeialty. Work Called for and Delivered Phone 199 302 E. Market. Aberdeen, Wash. “ASK YOUR CONTRACTOR’’ We Do Not Believe in Making Big Claims for Our BUILDING MATERIAL For we have found that the real quality of our Goods has been our best advertisement, and our customers our best ref erences. Whether you are remodeling or building an enquiry cannot but benefit you and ourselves. Ovitt-Elder Co. Harbor Dock Aberdeen, Washington. “ASK YOUR ARCHITECT’’ IF YOU KEEP YOU WILL SEE IT PAYS TO TRADE AT Powell Cunningham s Department Store SELLS ROYAL BLUE SHOES PHONE 40 CORNER E. 2ND AND B. STREET For the Girl Graduate Make your selections now for your graduation apparel. Here you will find everything that is exclusive and stylish. We have made special preparations this season and are showing Crepes in silk or cotton; voiles of all descriptions, marquisettes and silk brocades, beautiful laces and trimmings, but tons, ribbons, embroideries, hosiery, gloves, jewelry and other accessories. Come in and inspect our various lines to your advantage. GEO. J. WOLFF Aberdeen’s Greatest and Best Store The Weir Theatre WHO’S YOUR TAILOR? WE SUGGEST HARRY O'DELL Opposite Postoffice 110 South G Street Economy Quick Shoe Repairing Guarantees the Best of Materials and Perfect Workmanship 119 West Heron Street Between Broadway and K Streets Goehtend Company FAMILY GROCERIES HI South G Street Quality and Service RYAN BROS. GROCERIES AND FRESH MEAT FRESH FISH EVERY FRIDAY 105 WEST HERON STREET We always carry a full line of choice meats Your orders will receive our careful attention wrait BROS. ntAT HAPRET FOR QUALITY AND SERVICE PHONES 67 AND 68 209 SOUTH G STREET If you haven’t a boy, you’ll want to borrow one when you see our line of Boys’ Clothing A. M. BENDETSON THE RED FRONT BURNETT BROS. LEADING JEWELERS —and— DIAMOND MERCHANTS LIVINGSTON'S THE PEOPLE’S ECONOMY STORE Phone 461 Cor. H and Hume Sts. ABERDEEN STEAM LAUNDRY Strictly Sanitary We Guarantee Satisfaction SMOKE “THINK-OF-ME” CIGARS Manufactured by L. L. MALEY CIGAR FACTORY BUSCTBIC BUILDING PIIONE 531 MAI DAME HATH TEST (Enrrrrt fflilliumj ABERDEEN WASHINGTON RED CROSS PHARMACY Prescription Druggists THE NYAL STORE Telephone 185 Heron and G Streets Aberdeen, Wash. A SAVING IN LIVING If you trade at the grocery store of C. E. BROWNELLS 213 W. Heron Street. Phone 224 GABRIELSON HOLMER Pure Food Grocers 305 East Heron Street Phone 50 PHOENIX OF HARTFORD INS. CO. Also Office, Store and Lodging Rooms For Rent STANLEY and JOSEPH ZELASKO, Agents. Room 14, Toledo Hotel Aberdeen, Wash. Have You Tried the Broadway Candies? They Are Delicious and Fresh Two Phones—99 and 193 HOTEL WASHINGTON GRIFFIN MORCK, Props. FIRE PROOFED by Automatic Sprinklers Grill open afternoon and evenings to midnight THE PEOPLE’S MEAT MARKET The Big White Market HIGH QUALITY LOW PRICE FULL WEIGHT Trade With Us and Grow a Smile! 215 West Heron Street Phone 239 ELMA CREAMERY BUTTER TRY IT TAYLOR’S BUTTER STORE Phone 262 106 West Heron Street BOWES BROS. CO. REAL ESTATE, LOANS INSURANCE Phone 123 108 East Heron Street _____________:------------------ — ■ -------------------- La Meilleure Chaussures au Monde Pour Le prix JACOB’S ROYAL SHOE STORE 12U 2 East Heron Street INDEPENDENT MARKET, INC. Fancy Meats and Poultry 113 South G St. Phone 161 Aberdeen, Wash. the: german bakery PLEASES EVERYBODY Ask Your Grocer for the ROYAL LOAF 109 West leron Street Phone 351 GARMAN ZIEGLER “Jeff’s Old Stand for Shoes” Corner Market and G Streets ABERDEEN WASHINGTON PHONE 368 ABERDEEN, WASH. UNION PRODUCE COMPANY 413 E. Wishkah St. BUTTER, EGGS, CHEESE AND ALL KINDS OF DAIRY PRODUCTS Loans, Bonds, Collections L. H. FAULKNER CO. General Insurance 212 South G Street Aberdeen, Washington. Telephone 177 Vienna Restaurant “GOOD EATS” 414 East Heron Street CONRAD Sc ORR THE HOUSE OF QUALITY Phone 430 Cor. Heron and K Sts. PHIPPS FLYNN DEALERS IN WOOD AND COAL Phone 198 Cor. Market and H. Sts. 0 0 Y COME TO THE Y I BALTIMORE OYSTER HOUSE ; R FOR A WHOLESOME MEAL R s s FOR AN UP-TO-DATE CHIC LADIES TAILOR MADE SUIT OR FINEST GENTLEMEN’S DRESS SUIT CALL ON ADAM SCHUBERT TAILOR 102 SOUTH G STREET % C. A. BENDLIN TAILORING, CLEANING AND PRESSING 407 E. Wishkah Aberdeen, Wash Cigars and Tobacco Pocket Billiards THE FAN CIGAR STORE CANDIES SOFT DRINKS 320 East Heron St. Phone 1861-M Aberdeen. Wash: EMLNEKER. PIANO CO. Pianos and Players. Victrolas and Records 208 SOUTH G STREET THE BEST GROCERIES AND MEATS Can Be Bought at GOEHREND BROS. Phone 310 Corner Hume and Michigan Avenue THE GREEN STORE 515 W. Market Street ACME COFFEE HOUSE THE POPULAR LUNCH 209 South II Street JOHN HANSON MERCHANT TAILOR 2081 2 So. G Street Have you seen the CHAMBERLAIN RANGE at 317 East Market St.? ▼ --- - -■ - - ANDERSON NETTLEBLAD TAILORS, INC. 121 East Heron 103 South H Street. SUITORIUM Phone 134 A. BLIS'S, Prop. LADIBS GENTS CLEANING, PRESSING REPAIRING CLOTHES CALLED FOR AND DELIVERED TAILORED TO MEASURE SUITS—FIT AND QUALITY GUARANTEED THE DRY GOODS EMPORIUM 216 South H Street We Make a Specialty of Sample Lines of Ready-to-Wear SemuWeekly Aberdeen Herald A PAPER WITH CONVICTIONS, AND THE COURAGE TO EXPRESS THEM ALL THE NEWS OF GRAYS HARBOR AND CHEHALIS COUNTY THAT’S FIT TO PRINT SUBSCRIPTION, $2.00 A YEAR; STRICTLY IN ADVANCE, $1.50 Office 309 East Wishkah Street Tel. 568 EATON SWANEY THE REXALL STORE Ask the man who fills your prescription if he is registered. None but registered men fill prescriptions at our store The Palm Candy Company We Guarantee the Best of Service HOGAN GRAHAM Lawyers ABERDEEN BONER BONER Lawyers 314-316 Finch Building Rooms 3-4-5-6, Kaufman Block. CAUTHORN CAUTHORN PATRONIZE OUR Real Estate and Insurance ADVERTISERS Phone 355 FIRE MARINE CASUALTY INSURANCE W W HART 201 E. WISHKAH CARL S. WEATHERWAX ABSTRACTER 309 South H Street. Finch Building Aberdeen Electric 2 Home of the Peerless Mazda lamps and Excelsior Auto Cycle 102 W. Heron St. Smits Blk. 77 2852 34