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

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I Ex ' -': 5' f i' 2' 5' , 11:5 it iii QIz,ia'.-E 1Z.f3 fra fi - .... -AL1 fi V - AIR-PLANES KATH EREN EMERSON-511116, 1921 BOUT. the time of the VVorld's lf air here in St. Louis, our illustrious parents and relatives were standing out in the hot sun, hats off, gazing into the heavens, to see a basket resembling a clothes-hamper, attached to a huge piece of inliated rubber, floating around up in the clouds. They thought it was marvelous. They stood and watched the 1nan float around awhile. Wlien he wanted to come down, all he had to do was to let out the gas. Some trick! Consider the strides in the past twenty years. The Vlfright Brothers perfected the airplane' and from the crude balloon of the late eighteen hundreds, we have progressed to the marvelous pieces of mechanism which were such an important factor in the Great XV ar. Up to the present time, we have thought of aircraft as almost exclusively a wartime feature, but in these days of Disarmament and Genoa Conferences, our thoughts are turning away from war, and we are begin- ning to think of to what use these wonderful mechanical birds are going to be put. NV hen we think of what strides inventive genius along the aircraft line has made in the last few years, we can safely say that nothing is impossible. W'e can let our imaginations run wild and still be pretty safe. ln fact, we think, that by the year nineteen-thirty, or thereabouts, domestic life will be just about revolutionized. just think of architecture. An ad in the Morning Skylark will prob- ably read: For rent, one strictly modern efficiency apartment, ten bathrooms. one living-room, carloric expert in building, ade- quate hangars for family planes. Then a modern family will rent the apart- ment. The living room will have as many beds as are needed to accommodate the family, all concealed in the walls, ceiling. and Hoor, and modestly sheathed in curtains, W'hen the family rises in the morning, the beds amble back to their hiding places, the family attire themselves within the curtains, which automatically disappear when not in use, and a table rises up out of tl1e atmos- phere. Oh, the apartment has everything, even automatic orange seeders Cprovided the caloric expert approvesj. Father will probably start out first. He will got out to the hangar, take out his utili- tarian, sable black plane Qequipped with wire wingsj and go down to the office, just two hundred miles away. Probably, the debutante daughter has an appointment with her modiste in Paris at ten o'clock, so at eight, she takes out her henna demon speed- ster fvanity case at steering wheelj to give herself time to take in the styles in New York as she goes through. Around four in the afternoon, the gro- cery man makes his rounds delivering the calories, guaranteed germless, for the eve- ning repastf' He never moves out of his plane, but with an automatic a1'm attach- ment hands out the supplies and he majes- tically moves on when this is done. The modern bungalow will be equipped with a hangar on the roof so when Mother wants to take the trusty family bus out for airing, she will just get into the elevator Qwarranted to go up most of the timej and ascend to the roof. A mornings shopping will be consummated with neatness and dispatch , for all stores will have airplane accommodations. It will be absolutely necessary to have traffic cops in the heavens. Nets will be suspended all over the terra firmaf' for, you know, accidents might happen, especially if mademoiselle becomes too much en- grossed adjusting her complexion, or an eloping couple become too much interested in-ah, watching the scenery. So it goes: out of the water, onto the earth, olf of the earth into the air. Inventive genius, long may it live and flourish! Fifty-nine

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. .--...-.,............................... ...-....,.............. ,..-.......,.......-.....-..,,..,.....,..... ...... .,,.,.....,.......-..,,,,,,.,,.,.-..,. ,,, ,, , fl2w2.2.Tf.11' 2:f :rf-Fl?-ET113124114.H-r'rran::::,z:.::m11.-:-.':..::f:u1:x:::m.-m::::.v-.-:::.:.t' 1 'i ..., 1 -.-.....,-.-,.....,....................,.-...-..z-..,.,' came around and ate our rabbit bones, and was further satisfied by scraps of meat which Leo had carried for that purpose in his knapsack. We were sitting on a ledge which cropped out of the hill side. Leo was carefully-arranging his lines, and occa- sionally stroking Bruce's grizzled old head. It seemed that he and the dog were almost brothers. They were together every day. shared their meals, divided their spoils of game, and showed great affection for each other. After a while, we wandered on home, and after I had packed my grip and made preparations to depart, I strolled down to Leo's. I found him angrily correcting his younger brother, who had come home with a wild bird that he had captured when it was caught in a bush. Leo allowed the bird to escape, but reconciled his brother to his loss by offering his gun, a thing he valued next to Bruce, to go hunting with. He was very sorry to see me go, and Y--..,...- . - - . H 4 asked me to write to him some time. I wanted to give him something to remember me by, but I was afraid of hurting his feel- ing by giving him money, so I had -bought two boxes of the best grade shotgun shells for him, and intrusted them to his younger brother to give him on the following morn- ing. lVhen my train arrived, Leo was there. and. as usual, Bruce: I sat on the obser- vation platform and waved good-bye to my good friend. VVhen I saw him last, he was sitting on a truck with Bruce beside him. The train then dashed around a long curve. and I lay back in my chair and prepared for a tiresome tive-hour ride. I often wonder now, if ever, when Leo becomes older, he will leave his quiet home among the forests and rocks, and come to the big, ugly houses of the city, surrounded by other ugly houses and these all by still others-where there are no forests, no rivers or blue water, no rabbits, no squirrels. TO TI-IE STATUES IN THE. I-IALLS IXCIILDRED SCHLUETER-EX-111116, '25 Ah! fair dumbbells, Our hearts thrill with envy VV hen we poor, laboring victims Wend our weary Way through the halls To the waiting class that is ever Ready to hear what we donit know. Your faces look thoughtful, XVe'll admit, But if you are thinking You surely don't make any noise, VVhile we don't make nothin' else but When we are thinking. Often we feel inclined To offer you a chair, For it must be dreary Fifty-eight To be Parked on a pedestal Not doin' anything activeg just eternally thinking Or dreaming- VVhich is it? XVhy not be active plus and Wfork for an E Y ? Or maybe the whole flock of us Is dumb And we don't know that You are hollow on the inside And that that is where Santa Claus Gets the letters from, To give to Los Discipulos.

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.. -.....,,..-.-........ .......-......................................... ....-..-................--,...........,.... ,..,... ...,........4-.-.-......-................--.....w--...-.....-........-...............u-........,.u,....,...........,... --,- ' if ' N, .. ,L , -I M . ,,A., . .. .QI 5 Q ., is 'Y mrs.. w .m.:L....-...-......2 5.,....'-'-- .:,:'I:: '...... LT.......L......-::24:7':. '..:':.......,..... 't '' g:...,'r 1::::1:::.::r:::::1::::':'f-'---22 ' TI-IE JOKE EDITOR IN I-IADES JANE C. GIFFORD-Ex. June, 1914 Scene: The Infernal Regions. Time: At the tiime of lileueas' visit to Hades. ' Clzaracteirs: Aeneas, the S-ibyl of Cunafej Joke Edifovw Mob of To1'1nfenz'ors.' Diiogcn-cs. Dise0t.'e1'ed.' Aeneas and the Sibyl travel- ling to flze Elysian Fields. P' X ENEAS: And who dwells in this dolorous region? Sibyl: This is the home of those who hated their brothers, or failed in their duties to their employers and the community, or who, growing rich, gave no share to others. Here is one who sold his country for gold 5 another who perverted the laws. See, there is Sisyphus, who forever rolls a large rock to the top of that hill, but once there, the rock slips back, and he must try again. Y onder, too, is Tantalus, stand- ing in a pool of water: when he attempts to drink, though, the water flows away. But come, we cannot watch them longer, we must hurry to Anchises. Aeneas: Stay! VVho is this comes slowly along with a rabble at his heels? Sibyl: Ah, he, poor man, is a joke editor. Those with him are his tormentors. Never will they let him know peace until he tells them an original' joke. fEnter Editor and Rabblej First Tormentor: Hear! Hear! He thinks that's a new one! By the shades of niaster's realm, they get worse each day! Come Caranum, go at him, man! Caranum Canother tormentorj : Here's to the Joke Editor! May he live as long as his jokes! First Tormentor: W'ait! Let him try once more. Hast another joke ready for us, Editor? Editor Cwearily reading from manu- script: UA teacher once said to a boy who ts Sixty had his feet out in the aisle and was chew- ing gumn-CGroans from the Rabblej- 'Take that gum out of your mouth and put your feet in.' CThe Tormentors smile and nod to each other, making fun of the Editor.j Editor: Never mind! I see you're smiling at my jokes! Rabble: Yes, we always smile when we meet old friends. Editor: VVhy, when I first heard that joke, I laughed until my sides ached! Rabble: Yes, so did we. Editor: VVell, then, if you think these jokes are old, And should be on the shelf, just come around, a few of you, And hand i11 some yourself. Rabble: Old! Why they're gray-haired! Ho! Ho! He asks if we think they're old! Ha! Ha! Ha! etc., etc. fThey walk on, laughing and shoutingj Aeneas: Unfortunate wretch! VV ill no one help him? Sibyl: 'Tis of no use. Even Diogenes, with his lantern, has been of no help to him. See! Here he comes now! Enter.Diogenes, carrying a lantern and peering into every corner. Sibyl: Hail, Diogenes! What seek'st thou now? CDiogenes wearily sits down, his head sinks on his breast, and he begins: Time was when I sought, as the rarest thing known, an honest man. But now, for 'tis far rarer, I seek an original joke, that I may relieve my friend, the Editor. Hast heard of any F ' Sibyl: Nog none. Diogenes Carisingj: I pass on then: I have not time to rest. CExit Diogenesj Sibyl: 'Tis sad indeed! But come, Aeneas, or we will never reach thy father! CCurtain.j