Yeatman High School - Yeatman Life Yearbook (St Louis, MO)

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T3 X ff 1 x 5 SZ fi r T i 4 ' ' .. ,..,. .,..,... . ,.,. . L'u::..n... W4 ,,,,. . .. V. f ,l .. W 4 U Xl l3Rllll,l,AS AT ONE ANGLE DOROTHY JEFFREY MBRELLAS: They have always been queer things, haven't they? L? But long ago they were queerer than they are now. Then people carried a family umbrella, and father, mother and the chil- dren trooped along under it. These um- brellas went single file down the street, for there wasn't room for two of those things. In fact, we can't see how the other umbrel- las got wet when one was out. There sim- ply couldn't be enough rain to wet two of them! And they weren't objects of art. They were great, round shapes usually of black and always of cotton. Any conven- ient broom stick apparently made an ideal handle for one of them. Imagine one of those immense umbrellas turning inside out? Father held the umbrella and mother clung to his arm with one hand, while, with the other she saved her skirts from the mud. Behind, trouped four or five chil- dren all safe, interested in the welfare of the giant rain-stick. A fresh gust of wind whirled around the corner. Father wildly clutched the umbrella, but it was doomed. When one saw the wreck, one wondered why they hadn't used it for a tent. To me, a person in trouble with an um- brella is the most pathetic creature in the world. Any one who has experienced it knows what a woe-begone, dismal feeling it gives. For instance, take our daily rainy day program. It rains hard. We go to the umbrella stand, but our family has beaten us there. We pick up the sad re- maining specimen. Still, we think, At least it is silk. We go out. The umbrella looks all right when it is shut, but, when after a struggle it reluctantly opens, we are shocked. Ribs go every way but the right way and the silk slips up them. But patiently we fix it. We know how, because we've done it before. Then we start out with it held low over our head, hoping that the man next door won't recognize it. We hold it forward and a stream runs down our back, we hold it far back and the wind threatens to be its next borrower. We cross the street. In the middle, our um- brella gives up the struggle and collapses. We eye it sadly-W we couldn't be much wet- ter than we are. A friend hails us and we leave the umbrella lying forlornly in the gutter, all its heroic struggles and brave deeds forgotten. When we return, it is still there. No one wants it. We deter- mine to buy a new umbrella. The new ones have ivory handles and flowers paint- ed on them. We buy one, wondering if the flowers will help keep out the rain, It rains and we wonder no longer. We wring out our best hat Next time it rains, we rise early, and lovingly clutch our grand- father's black cotton umbrella. Far be it from me to scorn those staunch and tried friends. They come to our aid in many ways. For instance, we are broke and the brute to whom we owe a dollar ap- proaches. Who is a better friend than the umbrella which we lower over our faces? And who is a better friend to the hobbed- hair lass than the umbrella which shields her permanent curl? And we, whose um- brella turns inside out just as a handsome person at whom we have ineffectually cast glances for months, approaches under an umbrella, aren't we sure at that moment that umbrellas are lovely? Oh, truly I say, though at times we may scorn them haughtily, yet when the sky weeps, we forget our aversion and sally forth under our friend of the ivory handle and the shaky ribs. Pfzgr l m'rv I :'.'s

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-,-v .--. . -,-,1 ,,v-, W , ,,, ,. , S fa L75 ff' f 7 7' f 'ff 1 ' ' 9 7' ff f if fi ..f fl f 'V-Vv- ,... ff:71f:g:1i?fiTiii::1::L::L:f::1L:fi?fif i W ing. My! how we do shake and twist and turn ourselves! The modern dancer would fade into obscurity matched against us. MAY 22.-Oliver Wendell Holmes is a wonderful man. He once compared us to a man boasting of his famous ancestry. He said that the best, in such a case, is under- ground. To celebrate his memory we held a meeting of the potatoes' union. One of the speakers, Mr. Red-river, said we re- sembled Marshal Foch. This worthy gen- eral directed all the allied armies from his headquarters. In a like manner we direct our entire foliage growth from under- ground. MAY 27.-Speaking of blessings in dis- guise, we certainly had them today. The prof held a unique party today-a pota- to bug party. The guests were the chil- dren of the neighborhood. Each child tried to pick off more bugs than the rest. The one that was assigned to me kept busy all afternoon and consequently won the first prize-a perfect potato leaf. I must say that the recipient didn't seem very en- thusiastic and muttered something about the stingy old guy. MAY 29.-The prof has decided that the party wasn't a complete success. He still finds bugs on us. Now he is sitting on the porch with his feet propped upon the railing and is deep in a book on how to ex- terminate garden pests. Some of the dope sounds terrible. N o matter what it is, the prof will follow the directions to the let- ter, for, as he tells his patient wife, You must farm scientifically. AUGUST 1.-Well, my dear diary, I cer- tainly have neglected you, but I've been so busy growing. Besides, the only im- portant occurence of the summer hap- pened on the 4th of July. Then some en- terprising young Edison was experiment- ing in our lot with some mixed explosives in a can. He set it off and ran. We got the results. There were twelve killed, in- cluding the president of our union. Four- teen were seriously injured and twenty, Page Fnrly-Four badly shaken. We have drawn up resolu- tions upholding the idea of a safe and sane Fourth of July. Our children must never suffer such a tragedy. SEPTEMBER 15.-Distinction! Who said that a potato is incapable of distinction? I have been selected as one of the best po- tatoes to be saved for seed next year. Blood will tell! Tomorrow we are to be placed in the bin in the cellar, there to stay all the long winter. Of course, we shall miss the out of doors and our associations will not be of the highest, perhaps, for we will be obliged to content ourselves with cellar beings. SEPTEMBER 25.-We have tried to or- ganize a cellar club. Mrs. Pickled Beet was very sour in her manner when we ask- ed her to join us. She simply gave a gur- gle in her jar. Perhaps the cook put in too much vinegar. JANUARY 24.-It's been a long winter. We did liven up a bit at a party the other day. We were honored by the presence of Mr. Sweet Potato. Spending the win- ter in a sand box has made him so gritty that he asked Miss Peach, the belle of the ball, for several dances. The Bartletts came in pairs, so there was no unevenness of couples. When Mr. Blackberry ap- peared he was given a Raspberry. We did not invite the empty jars. We have grown used to stupidity but not to complete emp- tiness. Mr. Home Brew we considered too dangerous a guest because of his volatile nature. Nor could we think of asking Miss Jam for fear of having a crowd. At one time in a conversation the pickles be- came so sharp that they made the pota- toes' eyes water, but on the whole a good time was had by all. FEBRUARY 28.-This is the last of our winter. Tomorrow we begin our dormant period, which we'll extend through March. I wonder if I'll sprout at the end of that time. A woman could hardly ask for long- er time to make up her mind. Well, here's for a good nap. Perhaps I'll have a dream that will decide the matter.

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Z M Z Z Z2 ? ,v,,:, ..f.,. W Z ,,.. ,,,, I ,4A U M B R E L L A S AT ANOTHER ANGLE ADLAI TOENNIES g ' Q N UMBRELLA is just an ordinary QAN . . M3526 thing. People have never written books about it, but there are some very important things concerning it that every one ought to know. Why is it car- ried? If it is a gayly colored parasol car- ried by some similarly clad young lady, one realizes at once that it will do her as much good as a pair of ear-rings, for she would not think of getting it wet for any- thing in the world. A young man of about eighteen years of age, walking down the street on a fairly cloudy day and carrying a neatly rolled umbrella, is not thinking of catching cold from getting wet. He is thinking, rather, of that fine crease in his trousers or of that stiff collar he is wearing. If, on the other hand, an umbrella is car- ried by an elderly man or woman, one can judge in a minute that they are carrying it to be prepared. If a small boy is dragging it along on the sidewalk, one can be sure that, down in his heart, he is ashamed to carry it. Still, umbrellas were made to be used, so let every one carry his according to the way he likes. Now, let us turn to the history of the umbrella. In Eastern countries from the earliest times, the umbrella was the insig- nia of royalty and power. Kings and some times lesser noble men going in processions would be shaded by an umbrella of a crude and clumsy nature carried by a servant. The Mahretta princes of India had among their titles, lord of the umbrella, and the King of Burmah, in 1855, when addressing the Governor-General of India, referred to himself as the monarch who reigns over the great umbrella wearing chiefs of the Eastern countries. Imagine President Harding saying such a thing as that, to- Pzzge Forgf-Six day. The umbrella, in that part of the world, was and is still regarded as a luxury belonging to those of the upper class. The Roman and Greek ladies used as a sunshade a fancier type than that of the East, but the using of an umbrella of any shape by the men was considered a sign of effeminacy. From this, I think that the eleven-year-old boy of today gets his idea that a boy who carries an umbrella is a sissy. Along in the Eighteenth Century, the umbrella was kept in the coffee houses of England to lend to any one caught in the rain. Right here began the big mistake. It is no wonder that the managers of the coffee houses went broke and the manufac- turers of umbrellas became rich. Besides, it started a bad precedent. Today, it is no uncommon thing for a person to go out in rainy weather, meet some of his friends and recognize several familiar umbrellas. So through all the years, the umbrella has flourished and we still use it for practically the same purposes. Its construction, too, has remained the same throughout all these years, except, that at first the umbrella was made to be held open by the hand. The fellow who invented bumbershoot variety, was the man with brains, for he supplied thousands of children with thrills and thousands of repair men with jobs putting in new spring Still, the child must have some pleasure, and besides, bumbersh0ot springs don't cost a fortune. There are times when the umbrella comes in handy, but there are also times when it does not. For instance, a person enters a church late on a rainy morning. The prayer is halfway through when the person takes a seat in the last row without a bit of noise. Then the tricky, gold-han- dled umbrella falls clattering to the floor.