West High School - Senior Occident Yearbook (Rochester, NY)

Page 28 text:

158 THE SENIOR OCCIDENT “Miss Smith ’ shouted Mr. Burke, “Mr. Haines has the floor.” For the first time in her life Mildred Smith took her seat without expressing her opinion. For three days and five nights we sailed on the old Atlantic. On the 4th day we reached Vera Cruz. Here we were welcomed by a regiment of troops who were to take us to the new Ghent Hotel, which as I after- wards found out belonged to Raymond Ghent. Just as we were leaving the ship, a young man stepped up to Mr. Burke and said: “I beg your pardon, but I am the reporter for the Ukelele Telegram, and have been instructed to find out your plans. Could you give me a few moments now?” We gazed in astonishment at the audacity of the request, and then all shouted in unison “Roger Wixted.” He shook hands with each of us and wished us success on our expedition. But he seemed so full of business cares we did not have the heart to detain him long. On our way to the city we were greatly puzzled at the immense crowd ahead of us. The people seemed to be gathered around one center of at- traction. Our curiosity knew no bounds and on questioning one of our guides, we learned that a famous moving picture under the production of Towsley and Waring Company, was just in the operation of being completed. We also were told that their leading lady was Ethel Edick with Louise Gibbs, Grace Horner and Marguerite Nippert as understudies. Ethel dismounted gracefully from her horse and came toward us. We offered her our congratulations and again started on our journey. This time we reached the hotel without further happenings. There was a ball to be given in our honor on the night of our arrival in Mexico. The great Villa was to entertain us at his home. We ar- rived punctually at 9.45 o’clock (this was the stylish hour in Vera Cruz), Villa greeted us cordially and while the other members of the party were paying their compliments to the host I walked to the farther end of the room. Directly opposite to me stood a tall, dignified young woman. When she turned around I was almost guilty of an exclamation of surprise. I quickly crossed the room and greeted Miss Lillian Brautigam. After a few remarks I asked her what she was doing in Vera Cruz. In a very haughty voice she replied: “Evidently you have not read the newspapers lately. If you had you would have known 1 have been posing in the 'Hay- yard Studio’ for some time past.” After this remark 1 hastily made my adieus, for fear I might com- mit another unpardonable offense. A few mornings after the ball Mr. Y— and I decided to sec the sights of Mexico. We hired an auto for the morning and started on a tour of inspection. When we were about five miles out of the city we noticed a narrow but pretty road leading off the main road. It was soon decided that we investigate this novelty. Of course we saw a huge sign covered with hieroglyphics. But after one has been in Mexico for a time he soon becomes accustommed to these things. We had gone about half a mile up this road when we met a man carrying a large gun. “Stop,” he ordered, “didn’t you see that sign down yonder telling you this here land was private?” He took off his cap and waved it frantically in the direc- tion whence we had come. Both Mr. Y— and myself gazed in astonish- ment at Clinton Lintz. “Clinton Lintz, we plead guilty,” I replied. “Is it necessary to relate that we did not pay a fine to the plantation owner for trespassing?” Later on in the A. M. we were not so fortunate. We had promised to return to Vera Cruz at 12.30 o’clock. A little after eleven we were 45 miles from there. To add to our misfortune we had one of those cars

Page 27 text:

THE SENIOR OCCIDENT 157 Class Prophecy The following article appeared in the Accidental Accident” during the month of May, 1923: PEACE SHIP TO SAIL. The “Fifty-Seven” to Embark. Noted Financiers on First Cabin List. May 30.—With minds crammed with conciliatory ideas, peace dele- gates under the invitation of Mr. Franklyn Burke, the manufacturer of the famous floating fish food, sails next week for Mexico. First cabin list is as follows: His Highness, The Earl of Reed, Mr. Ferdinand Powell, member of the staff of the “Accidental Accident”; Roy Miller, manufacturer of war munitions; Roswell Marshall, historian of the trip; Reta Eyer, the editor of “Eat and Grow' Thin,” with her agents, Ruth Sibley and Isabelle Lanson; Vera Wibur, the famous writer of free verse; Ruth Heckel, the most wonderful diver the world has ever produced; Maude Kahler and Maude Shone, agents for the 20-Mule-Team Borax; Mildred Smith, cham- pion exponent of Speech Arts; Roberta Jennings, superintendent of schools in New York State; Ruth Rahn, a missionary to Africa; Homer Lewis, inventor of toothpicks for horses; Donald Houghton, maker of soft drinks; Emilie Isler and Ruth Loomis, ballet dancers. After reading this article I laid the paper down and allowed my mind to drift back to January, 1918. I was soon aroused from my reverie by the postman’s knock. Much to my surprise I received an important looking letter from Mr. Franklyn Burke, inviting me to join his peace party. As soon as possible I completed all preparations for the journey and on June 2, I left Rochester for New York. When I reached Albany I was obliged to transfer to a different division of the railroad. Just as I was mounting the steps leading up to the train I heard a strangely familiar voice calling: “All aboard for New York, hurry lady!” “Ralph Eckhardt,” I shouted, “whatever are you doing here?” “Just waiting for the stock market to go up,” he replied. At this point he rushed to the assistance of an old woman carrying two band boxes and a bird cage; and my train pulled out. The next thing I re- member u'as the conductor shouting in my ear, “Fares, please.” I looked up and recognized Marguerite Vanderpool. She smiled in a sheepish way and I said: “You are doing active work, aren’t you?” “Sh,” she answered, “I thought I would like it, but one is so con- spicuous on a train as a conductress, so I’m going to get off next week, with the excuse that I’m to be married, but I haven’t got tbe man yet. As soon as I reached New York I went at once to the harbor and here joined the first cabin list. On June 4, amid great cheers the “Fifty-Seven” sailed out of New York Harbor. Three guns were fired in our salute. For the first three days there were no meetings held on board the ship. The reason for this was the calm condition of the water, Ahem! even the strong-minded superintendent of schools in New York State, Roberta Jennings, was scarcely able to eat her usual hearty meal. On the fourth day Mr. Burke called a meeting and many speeches were made. During the thrilling talk given by Frederick Haines who never swears, Mildred Smith interrupted.

Page 29 text:

THE SENIOR OCCIDENT 159 which would not go over thirty-seven miles an hour. Mr. Y— opened the throttle wide. We were soon making tine time when suddenly a man pointing two revolvers at us, ordered the machine to be brought to a standstill. He told us the speed limit was twenty-one miles an hour. He took us back to the nearest attorney. You may imagine the surprise when upon reaching the city we read in large letters: Alfred Sproat, City Counselor and Attorney. As we entered the office four stenographers rose to greet us (this was the custom in Mexico). We naturally felt chagrined, but our embarrassment knew no bounds when we recognized the four stenographers to be the Misses Dorothy Heinrich, Edith Kneeland, Monica Hayward and Alberta Schwcndler. When we greeted Mr. Sproat he gave one of his old time hearty laughs. And then he charged us a heavier fine than any other tourists have ever had to pay. At last we again started for Vera Cruz. When we were about ten miles from the city we had a blow out. As there was a large high school building a short distance away, I decided I would wait there until the machine was repaired. My knock at the door was answered by a very small girl. I asked to see the principal and was soon shown to the office. Much to my surprise I found Miss Dorothy Wetmore just in the act of punishing a refractory child. She greeted me with blushes and cordiality; then asked me to step into one of the rooms until she would be at liberty. In the next room I found Miss Verna Altpeter calmly instructing thirty youngsters. Before 1 had time to chat our machine was repaired and at the door. For the third time we were riding toward our destination. When we finally reached the city we decided it would be wise to go to the bank before meeting the rest of our company. The experiences of the morning had greatly diminished our funds. Something seemed familiar in the appearance of the girl at the cashier’s window. I stopped a moment to look more closely and was soon shaking hands with Nelda Masters. As I walked to the farther end of the bank. I met Florencce Schneider just coming out of the private office with Phyllis VanCise. After waiting some time for Mr. Y— I came to the conclusion that it was taking too long to write a check. Thoroughhly out of patience, I went over to the teller’s window to see what was keeping him. I found him calmly con- versing with the young girl in charge of the window. He seemed to be quite unconscious of the long line of business men he was detaining. But I too forgot about them when I recognized the young lady as no other than Doris Logan. On passing out of the bank I noticed Morris Almstead, about whom I heard later that he was married to Adelaide Schaefer, and going out with other women. I noticed also Francis Daniels, who spoke to me and told me that he had established a system of academies all over the country, and had Mildred Smead as his private secretary and Lucy Gay as tht fessor of French. As we stepped out of the bank I saw a limousine stop and out jumped Ray Huls; as he passed I noticed he had another boil on his neck. We got into the machine and started for the hotel. On our way we passed a large home and on the porch was this astonishing sign: “McKie and Schoeffel. Undertakers.” A little farther we noticed a little governess wheeling a baby carriage. It was Sarah Bond. She waved to me and we stopped. She told me she was governess at the Madden Homestead, and that she was wheeling James K. Madden’s son. I took a peek and found him to be the image of his father. We drove on and soon .came to the hotel, where we met Basil Moore, who told us he was winning fame with his speeches on ‘‘World Peace.” This is the future of the Class of January, 1918.