West Side High School - Legenda Yearbook (Saginaw, MI)

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be six dollars left. Six dollars will be sent with love and sympathy, quoted Mary. Nothing doing! June interrupted. You ' ve got to help me pay for the smashed car. The garage man said it would cost eighty-three dollars and I need some help. In the end we each paid one-sixth of eighty-three dollars and sent the six dollars with love and sympathy. THE BONNET AND THE RAIN The day had been so dull and warm, It caused us all to sigh, When in a flash, we saw, afar, A cloud up in the sky. The air grew thick, and thicker still. We could not breathe so well. The whole sky, now with the clouds did fill; The rain came down pell-mell! Oh, wailed a trim young maid, aghast, As she began to fret; Pa says this bonnet is my last, And now it will get wet! A poor, old lady tottering came; The rain around her poured. The miss walked past her all the same, Her bonnet might get spoiled. The poor, old lady looked amazed at this young thing so rude. Ah, shelter me! she cried aloud. Impossible, I ' d spoil my hood, The pert young thing avowed. The old world rushes, helter-skelter, so We must look apart From those who have a bonnet to shelter Instead of a loving heart. C. L. PURCHASE.

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We had planned to rest until eight o ' clock on the next day and then inform our friends we were going to the village show. We were sure our appearance at the village theater would be a complete surprise since the two musicians and the handy man, who pulled the curtain and shifted our necessary pieces of furniture, such as the looking glass, promised complete secrecy. The chorus girls of The Passing Show are certainly making themselves scarce! said one of the fellows at the hotel. I haven ' t even seen the vamps! They ' re probably good looking peaches, Mary suggested, as calmly as if in two hours she would not be exercising her vocal powers to such an extent that the Europeans would be glad they lived over the sea. At half past six, we all managed to meet at the cross roads with our make up and clothes. June Crofton was going to drive us to the back entrance of the rickety old show house. June was a flighty girl and as the car swerved aside to avoid running over a member of the suicide club — a chicken — she lost control of it, and we ran straight into a telephone pole. The windshield was shattered, the radiator dented, one light a complete wreck, and still worse, the occupants were a sorry sight. June ' s arms were badly cut, Mary ' s head bruised, and Ethel ' s ankle sprained; I was the only one uninjured. Sometimes things aren ' t as bad as they seem. After we had torn up some of our royal robes and bandaged June ' s arms, she tried to start the car and it actually responded. Shortly afterwards, a weary, disheartened group of girls drew up at the rear entrance of the theater amid groans, sobs, etc. Since I was the only presentable one left, I was delegated to announce the castas- trophe to the audience. But when I peeked out at the audience from behind the curtain, and saw the crowd of eager, expectant farmers, to whom such a show was an event, I changed my mind. I can ' t do it, I said, They need amusement as badly as the Europeans need food. Besides, there ' s Bassett ' s daughter who collected ten dollars and fifty cents, sitting in the front row. How she would laugh if she heard of our failure! What can we do about it? came a chorus of angry voices. I know! While you keep the audience entertained, I ' ll get the vaudeville troupe to put on a show. They ' ll only charge fifty dollars! We will still have a good deal left. Mary, you and June aren ' t hurt so very badly. You rig up and go into the audience and act like regu- lar ' rubes. ' Flirt with the men, and ask the women if they ' ve seen your husband. You ' ll simply have to suffer for a little while. Then I was off. The manager acted very ungracious. He said if a crowd of girls were putting on a show and trying to spoil his business, he could not help them out for fifty dollars. After much gesticulating, expostulating, and anything which con- sumed the valuable time, I succeeded in engaging the vaudeville troupe for one hundred and fifty dollars. When we reached the show house, the crowd was in a jolly humor. The girls had done t heir work well. When the performance finally began we slipped out and went home. The next day we met to discuss the situation. Ethel had been more seriously injured than the rest. We counted the money taken in and found a total of one hundred and seventy-six dollars. Sub- tracting from that one hundred and fifty dollars for the troupe, ten dollars for the hall, and ten dollars for the musicians, there would

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Johnnie Williamson ' s Tie What do we wear neckties for, anyway; especially those big, bright red ones that are so hard to get on? Have you ever been late for the theater or dance, and then, you just could not make that tie stay on? Well, it just spoils your whole evening. You walk about wonder- ing what people are saying. Is it on straight? Is it all wrinkled up? And then, at last, the evening is over and you get home and look into the mirror, only to find that the tie was all right, after all. Johnnie Williamson stood before his mirror, struggling valiantly with his new tie. It was the evening of the school ball, and John had asked the very popular Mabel Wiltse to accompany him to the dance. Mabel had beauxs galore, and Johnnie surely felt proud that she had accepted him. Of course, he must look his best, for, perhaps, he might please her, and not be cast ofl so quickly as many of her admirers had been. At last, Johnnie became exasperated and lost his temper com- pletely. Curse followed curse, until our hero had exhausted all the curses contained in his vocabulary, which was quite a feat, since his supply was, by no means limited. Quarter to eight, he exclairhed. Got to be there at 8:15! Like to get the guy who invented these things. But, at last, after much pulling and tugging, the darned thing was on. Johnnie dashed from the house and hurried down the street. But on his way, these doubtful thoughts began to assail him. Do I look all right? That tie! I wonder if it ' s crooked? What will Mabel think of me? Mabel came to the door. Hello, Mabel, — Johnnie made a quick tug at his tie. — I hope you ' re feeling well, I feel just like having a great time — glances around to see if there is a mirror within reach. Well, Johnnie, you ' re just on time. Most of the men come around so early. But I ' m all ready. I feel as if I were in magic boots. I could dance all night. John ' s face was scarlet. He fumbled with his hat. He had never before felt so embarrassed. He felt sure that Mabel was looking at his tie. And he just stood there like a dummy! At the dance, the situation became even more distasteful to poor Johnnie. He could not keep ofi his partner ' s feet. All the eyes of the dancers seemed to be fixed upon him. I can ' t dance tonight, Mabel, I ' ve ruined your pumps. I hope you will forgive me, whispered John as he was waltzing with his fr iend. Oh, I guess I can. It ' s quite noticeable that you can ' t dance to- night. Who are you thinking about, anyway? I hope it isn ' t that red- headed Jones girl over in the corner. You ' ve been paying her quite a bit of attention tonight, replied Mabel, just a little coldly. Johnnie noticed the tone of her voice. He knew what it meant. She felt foolish dancing with a fellow who wore a rumpled up tie. After the dance, he went to the dressing room and fussed again with that troublesome little nuisance. One thing comforted him, for he saw three of his friends engaged in the same process. But the tie just would not change its appearance for the better. The more John fussed, the worse the tie seemed to become. At last, he returned to the ball room, feeling even more ill at ease. Finally, the evening ended. Shall we walk or ride home? asked John.