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

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160 THE SENIOR OCCIDENT SONG OF THE SWEATER: MY ROWS-AWRY My rows-awry, The hours I've spent in sweater art, Are like a string of pearls, I sigh To count them over every one a part, My rows-awry, my rows-awry. Each hour I purl, each purl take care, To drop no stitch, lest I be stung, To count, yea count unto the end; And then a sleeve is hung, Of memories that blurr and burn, Oh memories that blur and bum, 1 drop a purl, yet strive at last to learn To knit across, sweet art, ot knit across.—Ex. Learn— How to look grave and dignified. How to survive 4 years’ hard labor and still be a decoration to society. The Proper Care and Cultivation of a Stand-In. The little Idiotsyncrasies of the Faculty. Their Manners and Customs, etc. How to pass the posture test alive. How to take gym and go to the Temple in the same afternoon. How to return safely from the drugstore and many other helpful processes invaluable to ambitious, young high school students. All your problems may be successfully solved if you but ask the Seniors—THEY' KNOW’ all these useful little parlor tricks by heart and will be glad to give you the benefit of their age and experience. “HOT FROM THE CLASS ROOM” “Here we have a simple homogeneous parametric quadratic simultaneous equation.” “You can’t come in this library again.” “Now Alfred—” “Confession is good for the soul.” “The girls in this class certainly are athletic; they can talk and breathe at the same time.” “Francis has been looking at his notes.” “You may go to the board.” “Got your lesson?—Get out.” “Down to Scotty’s Academy.” “Use your head.” “Now, when I was in England—” “Beginning with the last row the assembly is dismissed.” Sproaty—“Hey, can you tell a bad egg from a good one?” Roswell—“I don’t usually tell a bad egg anything, but if I do I break it gently.”

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162 THE SENIOR OCCIDENT A Substitute Cousin A young man walked briskly through the crowd outside of a station in Boston, from which he had just come, towering above other individuals, lie was very brown, as the result of the hot sun in Mexico, where he had spent the last several years. He was really a Bostonian, but was taken by many people who saw him and watched him, to be a westerner. This young man produced a card from his vest pocket and, having hailed a taxi, gave the address, scribbled on the card, to the driver. Ten minutes later the servant who opened the door at this address, took his card and preceded him to a large room from which came the sound of music and laughter. His guide entered the room, advanced to where a young woman stood laughing with her dancing partner, and ad- dressed her. “A gentleman, madam. Madame took the card and read,, John M. Rodney. Oh, it’s Jack aready! she exclaimed, and turned eagerly toward the door. Jack stood in the doorway. His eyes swiftly swept the room in search of his friend. Rut to his surprise and disappointment, he did not see the man whom he had promised and arranged to visit. Instead, coming quickyly towards him, with outstretched hands and a happy, expectant smile, was a young woman who was an absolute stranger. “Oh, Jack, this is splendid! she cried, when Jack had, with some embarrassment, taken her hands in his, I didn’t expect you until eleven- thirty ! Jim! she broke off to address a young man who was approaching, Jim, Jack has come earlier than we expected. As “Jim extended his hand to the bewildered Jack, she continued: This is my husband, Mr. Whittier, Jack--------. Goodness! You are browner and taller than I had expected. Jack, up to this point, had had no opportunity to put in a word edge- wise, except to murmur, Glad to know you, when introduced to Mr. Whittier, and now he wet his lips, preparatory to protesting and ques- tioning Mrs. Whittier, when that worthy person turned and addressed her wondering, curious guests. “This is my cousin, Jack Rodney, a westerner, who is to spend a few weeks with Mr. Whittier and myself. The guests all surged forward to meet him, and Jack was certainly, as he expressed it to himself, in deep. By the time introductions were over Jack had realized that Mrs. Whittier had been expecting her western cousin, a second Jack Rodney, and had naturally taken himself, blundering idiot that he was, for her cousin. He collected his scattered thoughts and pondered. There were two ways of escape. One was to explain to Mrs. Whittier that he hated to disappoint her, but that he was not her fortunate cousin, but had blundered into the house without even inquiring at the door whether he had the right house; and then, having made a fool of himself generally, leave the house with a feeling that he was about two cents. Decidediy he did not relish this method. The other way was to continue his decep- tion, remain until eleven-thirty when the regular cousin would be due, and take leave of Mrs. Whittier, using some excuse. He liked the latter method a great deal more.