Delaware High School Bulletin '22

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 1)

[page 1]

[corresponds to front cover of Delaware HS Bulletin 1922]

BULLETIN

DELAWARE

HIGH SCHOOL

'22

[seal reading "DELAWARE HIGH SCHOOL DELAWARE OHIO REX LEX DUX LUX" (trans. "my King, my Law, my Leader, my Light")]

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 2)

[page 2]

[corresponds to inside of front cover of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

[blank]

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 3)

[page 3]

[corresponds to unlabeled page 3 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

The

Bulletin

[image of person blowing a horn]

[image of DHS seal (DHS REX LEX LUX DUX and book with torch)]

Edited by the Junior Class

Of Delaware High School

1922

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 4)

[page 4]

[corresponds to unlabeled page 4 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

To the Team

Whose cleanness of sportsmanship, keenness

of skill, and intense, earnest endeavor for the

glory of Delaware High inspired our loyalty and

our cheers;

Whose individual sacrifice and collective

effort led us to that Victory upon which our

minds and our hopes were concentrated;

Whose ability to maintain their superiority

in the face of great opposition won for us the

Championship of Southern Ohio;

The Basketball Team, 1922

We dedicate this issue of the

Bulletin

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 5)

[page 5]

[corresponds to unlabeled page 5 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

[image of trophy with names TURNEY, HIGHWARDEN, PERRY, JACKSON, SIEGFRIED, SANDS, HUGHES]

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 6)

[page 6]

[corresponds to unlabeled page 6 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

Junior Bulletin

DELAWARE HIGH SCHOOL DELAWARE, OHIO, MAY, 1922

[images of DHS logo]

Table of Contents

BOOK I

Faculty

Seniors

Juniors

Sophomores

Freshmen

Alumni

BOOK II

Athletics

Dramatics

Debate

Bulletin Staff

Editorials

BOOK III

Literature

BOOK IV

Humor

Advertisements

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 7)

[page 7]

[corresponds to unlabeled page 7 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

Book I

[image of school, clouds, trees]

Faculty

Seniors

Juniors

Sophomores

Alumni

[Delaware HS seal at bottom of page]

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 8)

[page 8]

[corresponds to page 6 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

Bulletin

[unlabeled photographs of faculty]

DHS

6

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 9)

[page 9]

[corresponds to page 7 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

Bulletin

Senior Class Officers

1922

[photographs of class officers]

[DHS seal]

William Turney, President

John Beal, Vice President

Robert Bush, Secretary

Elizabeth Hoffman, Treasurer

7

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 10)

[page 10]

[corresponds to page 8 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

Bulletin

[photographs on left side]

Mary Frances Austin

College Entrance

Alvah Lee Baldwin

Glee Club

Cheer Leader '22

Joke Editor Bulletin '24

Binafore '21

Mikado '22

English Course

Dorothy Barney Barrett "Dot"

Literary Editor Bulletin '21

College Entrance

John R. Beal

Vice President Senior Class '22

Debate '22

Art Editor Bulletin '21

President Hi-Y

Glee Club

College Entrance

Paul David Bechtel "Beech-nut"

English Course

Margaret Morrison Bing "Bingey," "Peg"

College Entrance

8

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 11)

[page 11]

[corresponds to page 9 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

Bulletin

[photographs on right side]

Anne Kerns Booton

Glee Club

Bulletin Junior Reporter '21

College Entrance

William E. Brown, Jr. "Bill"

Glee Club

Mikado '22

College Entrance

Robert Edwin Bush "Bob"

Business Manager Bulletin '21

College Entrance

Mabel Carpenter

English Course

Irl M. Chambers

Radio

English Course

Martha Clark "Mart"

Basketball '19-'20

College Entrance

9

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 12)

[page 12]

[corresponds to page 10 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

Bulletin

Elizabeth Amelia Cleaver "Betty"

Glee Club

College Entrance

Janet Dennis

Glee Club

Basketball '21-'22

English Course

Ruth Louise Drake

Glee Club

College Entrance

Mary Kathryn Forsyth "Kate"

Glee Club

English Course

Margaret Fox "Peggy"

Basketball '20-'21-'22

English Course

Ursula Zenobia Fleming

English Course

10

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 13)

[page 13]

[corresponds to page 11 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

Bulletin

Ridley S. Gillespie

College Entrance

Martha Josephine Gorsuch "Jo"

College Entrance

Harold Fredrick Gooding "Mercury"

College Entrance

Othello E. Hanawalt "Shorty"

English Course

Paul C. Harger

Advertising Manager of Bulletin '21

Football '21

English Course

Paul C. Harger

Advertising Manager of Bulletin '21

Football '21

English Course

Edward Bruce Highwarden

Football '20-'21

Basketball '21-'22

English Course

11

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 14)

[page 14]

[corresponds to page 12 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

Bulletin

Helen Margaret Hiteshew

College Entrance

Aura Elizabeth Hoffman "Betty"

Glee Club

Debate '21-'22

Mikado '22

Basketball Captain '19

College Entrance

Clifford Hughes "Deacon"

Basketball '22

English Course

Gladden Vincint Hull "Preacher"

Debate '21-'22

English Course

Martha Olive Hurlburt "Mike"

English Course

Ernestine Alma Irvine "Shrimp"

College Entrance

12

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 15)

[page 15]

[corresponds to page 13 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

Bulletin

William Emory Jones "Dopey"

English Course

Sylvia Kerr

College Entrance

Hilda Marie Kiessig

Glee Club

Basketball '20-'21-'22

English Course

Constance Violet Kishler "Conny"

English Course

Nevin Klotz "Preacher"

Glee Club

English Course

Christine Lucile Link

English Course

13

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 16)

[page 16]

[corresponds to page 14 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

Bulletin

Elsie Lucile Mason

College Entrance

John Patrick Moloney

English Course

Deltus Olen McCarty

English Course

Lillian Helen Murphy "Pat"

Debate '21-'22

Basketball '20-'21-'22

College Entrance

Frances Elizabeth Naylor "Fran"

Glee Club

Pinafore '21

Mikado '22

College Entrance

Harriet Alice Paschall "Birdie"

Glee Club

College Entrance

14

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 17)

[page 17]

[corresponds to page 15 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

Bulletin

Dorothy Marian Powell

Basketball '22

English Course

Bernice Elizabeth Price

College Entrance

Charlotte Rice

Editor Bulletin '21

Basketball '20-'21-'22

Captain '22

College Entrance

Mamie Jenetta Sampson

English Course

Beatrice Samson "Bebe"

English Course

Floyd Schaffner "Shaggy"

Football '21

English Course

15

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 18)

[page 18]

[corresponds to page 16 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

Bulletin

Edward Anthony Schweitzer

Glee Club

English Course

Neva Doris Sheets

English Course

Lucile Augusta Sherwood

College Entrance

Samuel Corwin Siegfried

Basketball '22

English Course

Francis Burrell Smith "Smitty"

English Course

Robert K. Smith "Bob"

English Course

16

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 19)

[page 19]

[corresponds to page 17 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

Bulletin

Ruth Elizabeth Snider "Rufus"

English Course

Harold Ellis Spaulding "Hosea"

Athletic Editor Bulletin '21

Football '18-'19-'20-'21

Football Captain '20

Basketball '21-'22

Basketball Captain '22

English Course

Mary Emeline Spaulding

Glee Club

Athletic Editor Bulletin '21

Basketball Captain '21

English Course

Phyllis Stout

College Entrance

Walter Thurman Swearengin "Sweeney"

Glee Club

Pinafore '21

Mikado '22

Bulletin Ass't. Subscription Manager '21

College Entrance

Mary Gwendolyn Thomas

English Course

17

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 20)

[page 20]

[corresponds to page 18 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

Bulletin

William Watts Turney "Bill"

Glee Club

Football '19-'20-'21

Football Captain '21

Basketball '20-'21-'22

Basketball Captain '21

English Course

Vida Belle Van Meter

College Entrance

Franklin Louis Vining

English Course

Margaret Adeline Welch "Ad"

Glee Club

English Course

Dorothy Eilene Whipple "Dot"

Debate '21-'22

Basketball '19-'20

College Entrance

Kathryn Carolyn White "Kate"

Glee Club

College Entrance

Marox Young "Roxy"

Bulletin Alumni Editor '21

College Entrance

18

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 21)

[page 21]

[corresponds to page 19 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

Bulletin

[photo of a woman and man on bench facing opposite directions]

AW, YOU'RE KIDDING

[photo of four women]

FROM A FOTEY-GRAFF ALBUM

[photo of four men]

DUDES

DHS SNAPS

[photo of woman holding out a plate]

HAVE SOME

[photo of two women]

KATE

AND

RUTH

[photo of man]

OUR ORATOR

[photo of woman]

FOXY

ROXY

[photo of band with drummer, clarinetist, saxophonist, violinist, banjo, and piano players- Sid's Syncopated]

19

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 22)

[page 22]

[corresponds to page 20 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

Bulletin

[class photo]

Junior Class Officers

[photographs]

1923

Alice Rush, President

Abigail Semans, Vice President

Harold Stephens, Secretary and Treasurer

20

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 23)

[page 23]

[corresponds to page 21 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

Bulletin

[photo of couple]

I DO

[photo of man]

FACULTY

ADVISOR

[photo of three men]

WANDERING JEWS

[photo of couple]

CHAPERONED

D.H.S

SNAPS

[photo of woman with sign that says "PLEASE DO NOT PARK HERE"]

LAW-BREAKER

[photo of three women]

SMILES

[photo of man]

MACK SENNETT

[photo of man with parrot]

TEACHING POLLY

TO SING

[photo of woman with dog]

NICE DOGGY

[photo of four men singing]

HOWLING SUCCESS

21

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 24)

[page 24]

[corresponds to page 22 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

Bulletin

Class of 1924

[class photo]

Class of 1925

[class photo]

22

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 25)

[page 25]

[corresponds to page 23 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

Bulletin

Alumni

CLASS OF 1918

Owen Abbott--Express messenger between Chicago

and Buffalo.

Martha Barrett--At home, W. Central Ave., City.

Grace Beebe--At home, North Columbus, O.

Carl Beecher--Standard Clothing Co., City.

Bernice Boner--Teacher, Martinsville, O.

Gladys Cleveland--Mrs. Ellis Lehner, Norton, O.

Hobart Darst--Farmer, Radnor, O., R. D. 2.

Blanche Davidson--Governess, New York City.

Gilbert Eagon--Employed at C. D. and M. office, Del-

aware, O.

Margaret Ehnes--Mrs. Connor, Newark, N.J.

Jennie June Fox--Mrs. Paschall, Columbus, O.

Bennet Gooding--At home, near Lewis Center, O.

Jeannette Gooding--Studying music, O.W.U.

Zennetta Gorsuch--Mrs. Kirby, attending Ohio Uni-

versity, Athens, O.

Anna Halliday--Detroit, Mich.

Harry Harter--Wilson's Tailor Shop, Delaware, O.

Lois Hillard--Mrs. Warner Elliott, Delaware, O.

Ralph Holcombe--Akron, O.

Wendell Hughes--Cadet at West Point, N.Y.

Richard Hunt--Married, Centerburg, O.

Dorrance James--Studying medicine, Cincinnati, O.

Catherine Jones--Nurse at Battle Creek Sanitarium,

Battle Creek, Mich.

Robert King--Insurance business, Delaware, O.

Pearl Link--Mrs. Baker, Columbus, O.

Helen Medick--Mrs. Rutherford, Powell, O., R. D.

Phoebe Morey--Employed at Hilf's Plumbing Store,

City.

Mary O'Connell--At home, E. Winter St., Delaware,

Ohio.

Wilma Porterfield--Washington, D.C.

George Reading--Bowling Green, O.

Dorothy Rhoades--Mrs. Norris Griffenstein, City.

Eliza Richey--Mrs. William David, Radnor R. D. 3.

Mary Schwartz--At home, Cheshire St., Delaware, O.

Norman Siegfried--Delaware Savings Bank, Dela-

ware O.

Roy Smith--Attending Ohio State University.

Winifred Smith--Attending Taylor University, Up-

land, Ind.

Helen Truxall--Stenographer, Columbus, O.

Mary Vergon--Mrs. Glenn Sonner, Delaware, O.

Emma Veley--Athens, O.

Roy Veley--Stillwater, O.

Florence Welch--Attending Taylor University, Up-

land, Ind.

Grace Williams--Attending O.W.U.

Max Wolgamot--Richwood, O.

Charles Simpson--Grocer, Tampa, Fla.

Those attending Ohio Wesleyan are: Florence

Avery, Marjorie Crimm, Frank Cross, Paul Eliot,

Robert Evans, Miriam Freshwater, Julia Harmount,

Robert Harmount, Dorothy Hooper, Elizabeth Klotz,

Lester Kurrley, Florence Leas, Harold Lucy, Eliza-

beth Noble, Helen Rodefer, June Rosebrook.

CLASS OF 1919

Warren Bieber--Working at postoffice, City.

Ruth Copeland--Dunkirk, O.

Benjamin Davenport--At home, W. William St., City.

Louise Griffith--Treasurer's office at Delaware

Courthouse.

Vreeland Hammond--Married, Steubenville, O.

George Heffner--C. and E. Shoe Factory, Dela-

ware, O.

William Held--Held Cab Co., Delaware, O.

William Herriott--At home, W. William St., Dela-

ware, O.

Elizabeth Keyes--Mrs. Vreeland Hammond, Steu-

benville, O.

Sylvia Kendrick--At home, W. Central Ave., Dela-

ware, O.

Mildred Kreamer--Stenographer, Columbus, O.

Ellouise Lenhart--Taking nurse's training course,

Delaware Springs Sanitarium.

Raymond Miller--At home, Delaware R. D. 6.

Helen Myers--Mrs. James Robinson, Toledo, O.

Robert Naylor--Employed in First National Bank,

Boise, Ida.

Bessie Owen--Mrs. Ervin Powell, Delaware, O.

Ted Pehrson--Working at Denison's Clay Manufac-

turing Co., City.

Oliver Petran--Attending University of Chicago.

Eunice Scott--Teacher, Covington, Ky.

Edward Starr--Employed at Z. L. White Co., Co-

lumbus, O.

Mable Veley--Mrs. John Marstrelli, Stillwater, O.

Gertrude Webster--Teacher in School for Blind, Co-

lumbus, O.

Theodore Wheeler--Manager of F. W. Woolworth

Store, Greenville, Pa.

Those attending Ohio Wesleyan are: Neal Artz,

23

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 26)

[page 26]

[corresponds to page 24 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

Bulletin

Donald Beecher, Dorothea Boardman, Donald Coop-

er, Edward Follwell, Ollire Henders, Winifred Hook,

Elizabeth Hooper, Elizabeth Hormell, Amelia Lane,

Irma Lowry, Margaret Lowry, Grace Manly, Hester

Mettler, Francine Minnelli, Ada Radcliffe, Anne Se-

mans, Charles Shively, Walter Skatz, Leona Smith,

Margaret Taggart, Lawrence Thomson, Mary K.

Wallace, Edgar West, Sylvia West, Dorothy Willis,

Hamilton Smyser.

CLASS OF 1920

Dorothy Algin--Stenographer at Cook Motor Co.,

Delaware, O.

Beryl Aldrich--At home, N. Liberty St., Delaware, O.

Jessie Cellars--Office of George Snyder, lawyer, Del-

aware, O.

Margaret Cryder--Mrs. John Long, Deaware [sic], O.

Gladys Lavender--Attending Normal School, Rich-

wood, O.

Helen Ebenhack--Telephone operator, Kilbourne, O.

Frederick Fate--Proprietor of confectionery, Dela-

ware, O.

Thelma Flaherty--Telephone operator, Columbus, O.

Maurice Harter--Sunray Stove Co., Delaware, O.

Hallie House--At home, Delaware R. D., after vis-

iting in the West.

Pauline Jones--Office at Climax Rubber Co., Dela-

ware, O.

Mary Charlotte Jones--Miss Lear's Millinery Shop,

Delaware, O.

Leonard Kelchner--Working with contractor, Dela-

ware, O.

Marian Knight--Office at Climax Rubber Co., Dela-

ware, O.

Mayme Lambert--Sell Brothers, Delaware, O.

Bessie Lewis--Attending Ohio University, Athens, O.

Julia Magee--At home, Delaware, O.

Amos Main--At home, north of Delaware, O.

Clara Monesmith--Employed in office of O.W.U.

Dwight Penry--Hoffman's Bakery, Delaware, O.

Anne Pliickebaum--Morrison's Garment Co., Dela-

ware, O.

Ewing Potter--At home, Griswold St., Delaware, O.

Kathryn Powers--Young and Owen Jewelry Store,

Delaware, O.

Florence Price--Teacher, Delaware R. D.

William Sanderson--Pennsylvania freight office,

Delaware, O.

Lois Snedeker--Attending Business College, Colum-

bus, O.

Clara Spicer--Teacher, Urbana, O.

Florence Weiser--Mrs. Milton Harger, Delaware, O.

Guy Wheatcraft--At home, east of Delaware, O.

Norma Whipple--Teacher at East School Building,

Delaware, O.

Wesley Williams--Allen Coffee Shop, Delaware, O.

Those attending Ohio Wesleyan are: Charles Bo-

durtha, Bertha Bradford, Leo Boyer, Gladys Chal-

lenger, Royal Coburn, Harriet Connklin, Ian Cunning-

ham, Joe Donovan, Mildred Freshwater, Clarine

Morehouse, Harold Noble, Wallace Oswald, William

Owen, Morgan Ruffner, Gertrude Siegfried, Olive

Sines, Ruth Smith, Mrgaret Smyser, Mary K. Thom-

son, Robert Thomson, Ted Turney.

CLASS OF 1921

Robert Nichols--Auld's Jewelry Store, Columbus, O.

Nan Miller--Attending O.S.U.

Grace Barrett--At home, W. Central Ave., Dela-

ware O.

Elizabeth Cleveland--Alumni office at O.W.U.

Nellie Cryder--Attending O.S.u.

Kathryn Dennis--Taking nurse's training course at

Grant Hospital, Columbus, O.

Charles Eliot--Sunray Stove Co., Delaware, O.

Mary Evans--At home, near Galena, O.

Kathleen Gardner--Alumni office at O.W.U.

Lura Hamilton--Alumni office at O.W.U.

Anna Belle Higgins--Office at Delaware Courthouse.

Bernita Hinton--Alumni office at O.W.U.

Addie Lavender--Attending Normal School, Rich-

wood, O.

Lucy Lusk--At home, S. Liberty St., Delaware, O.

Marian M. Miller--Office of Bern Jones, lawyer, City.

Lester Minnelli--At home, Belle Ave., Delaware, O.

Herbert Mitchell--At home, Delaware, O., R. D. 6.

Ellen Moore--Office of Riddle, Graff and Co., Dea-

ware, O.

Ruth Nobe--Office of Dr. McCleery, Delaware, O.

Ruth Owen--Cashier at Boston Store, Columbus, O.

Helen Plotz--Employed in W. B. Main's Insurance

Office, City.

Helen Roberts--Attending Ohio University Athens, O.

Frances Schneider--Alumni office at O.W.U.

Edward Smith--At home, Delaware, O., R. D. 6.

Edward Slack--Employed at Chevrolet Co., Colum-

bus, O.

Ivadell Warren--At home, Delaware, O., R. D. 1.

Guy Dickey--Norwood's Drug Store, Delaware, O.

Max Green--Springfield, O.

Mildred Kissner--At home, N. Sandusky St., Dela-

ware, O.

Those attending Ohio Wesleyan are: Norman

Alexander, Paul Baldridge, Nellie Bargdill, Dunbar

Beck, Everett Bonnette, Mary Buckingham, Edgar

Buck, Norman Bukey, Griswold Campbell, Clark

Chidester, Harry Cooper, Joyce Crimm, Mary Cun-

ningham, Helen Duhamel, Vining Hale, Luverne

Hirsch, Dale Howard, Gladys Mansfield, Marian E.

Miller, Ernest Pollock, Everett Rolston, Ralph Rush,

Ralph Rutherford, Helen Smart, Amy L. Welch,

Martin Welch, Malinda Wells, Ruth Wilson, Helen

Waggoner, Harrison Houk.

24

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 27)

[page 27]

[corresponds to unlabeled page 25 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

Book II

Athletics

Dramatics

Debate

Bulletin Staff

Editorials

[Seal "DELAWARE HIGH SCHOOL" with book and torch]

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 28)

[page 28]

[corresponds to page 26 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

Bulletin

Resolutions

We recognize that education must include three

phases of life, the physical, the mental, and the

moral. Each must be developed to make the perfect

man. The Board of Education has observed with

pleasure the splendid work of our basketball team

in the tournament just closed, and we desire at this

time to express our appreciation of their great

achievement in this, the greatest contest of its kind

ever held. We watched eagerly game after game

in which D.H.S. participated during the two days

and evenings of the southern division contest. With

enthusiasm unbounded we saw the Orange and Black

emerge victors over the crack teams of Piqua and

Xenia. At the end of the sixth round of contests,

with seventy-seven teams of this division defeated,

there remained but two undefeated teams, Delaware

and Greenfield. This of itself was a signal honor

for Delaware and for each member of the team.

Probably the hardest fought game of the tourna-

ment was the Delaware-Piqua game. Piqua came to

Delaware with the season's record of unbroken vic-

tories. Having vanquished everything she met in

southwestern Ohio, she came with high hopes of

state championship honors. Perhaps the greatest

exhibition of individual self-control and skill ever

seen in a high school basketball game was shown

by Captain Turney at the close of this battle. The

score was a tie. Piqua fouled Delaware. The pis-

tol cracked. Time up. And in the presence of 2500

people Captain Turney took his position in front of

the basket. The fate of Delaware rested on his

ability to drop the ball through the basket. Indif-

ferent to the breathless condition of his tense audi-

ence, and with the utmost skill and precision, he

dropped the ball through the center of the basket,

thus winning the game for Delaware.

The defeat of Greenfield by Delaware and the

Mt. Vernon championship game are fresh in the

minds of all. To stand with one foot on the top-

most round of the ladder and have the vanquished

host of more than one hundred and fifty of the best

teams in Ohio look up at you with admiration, is an

enviable position for any team to attain. Every

member of the team deserves his full share of cred-

it. Such eminence in athletics can be attained only

by the best team work. We realize that no school

can put such a team in the field without a faithful

second team ever ready and willing to scrimmage

with the first. With all these things our efforts

would come to naught without a competent, en-

thusiastic coach. This we have had in the person

of Mr. Mahon. The loyal support of the student

body has also been an important factor.

You have brought honor to your high school and

to the city of Delaware. Therefore, be it resolved

by the Delaware City Board of Education, that we

extend to the Delaware High School basketball

team and Coach Mahon our heartiest congratula-

tions for the excellent record you made in the re-

cent basketball tournament. We want the boys and

girls to know that we are deeply interested in your

welfare and will do everything in our power to ad-

vance the interests of this high school and its in-

ter-school contests.

C. A. MORRISON, President.

CHAS. S. MASON, Vice President.

R. K. WILLIS, Clerk.

Next Year's Captain

Next year's football captain, Scott Radcliffe, was

chosen at a banquet given by Coach Mahon soon af-

ter the close of the season. Scott, who is well known

for his ability in breaking up the opponent's plays,

is a find selection for the captaincy, and, because he

is athletic editor of the Bulletin, nothing was said

about his good work. There will be five "D" men

missing from the squad next year, but if everyone

takes the interest that I know the captain and coach

manifest, there will be another successful football

season. -HAROLD SPAULDING, '22.

26

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 29)

[page 29]

[corresponds to page 27 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

Bulletin

[photograph of George Mahon]

GEORGE MAHON - COACH

[photograph of Turney with basketball]

STATE

HIGH SCHOOL

BASKET-BALL

TOURNAMENT

1922

TURNEY

ALL-OHIO

CENTER

[photograph of Highwarden]

HIGHWARDEN

ALL-SOUTHERN

GUARD

[photograph of basketball players in a huddle]

JUST BEFORE THE FINALS

27

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 30)

[page 30]

[corresponds to page 28 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

Bulletin

[photograph of basketball team]

Basketball '21-'22

Delaware High started its 1921-1922 basketball

season under the direction of Coach Mahon with

three "D" men, Captain Spaulding, Turney, and High-

warden. With this firm foundation upon which to

build a team, the prospects for the coming season

looked very bright.

The first game was played with Hyatts on the

Delaware court. Spaulding was the only man on

the Delaware team that could locate the basket, and

due to the exceptional playing of Hill from Hyatts,

the home team was sent down to defeat. The next

game was played in Crestline where Delaware, with

Perry as star, was victor by a 21-14 score. The fol-

lowing week we suffered defeat at Galion in a close-

ly fought contest, which was won only after a neces-

sary overtime period.

Following our defeat at Galion we made a great

comeback and defeated both Ashland and South High

of Columbus on our own floor. Perry was high point

man in the Ashland contest and Turney proved best

in the South High game.

Following this last game our team became se-

verely crippled. Perry and Highwarden were tem-

porarily unable to play, and Spaulding was forced

out of the game for the rest of the season on ac-

count of illness. We suffered several straight de-

feats, and only rallied in the last schedule game of

the season, defeating Harding 33-13, thus revenging

ourselves for our defeat at their hands earlier in

the season.

After the close of the schedule season the team

worked hard for two solid weeks in preparation for

the tournament. This extra training was not in vain,

for Delaware won six straight games in the prelim-

inaries of the southern division and came back the

next week-end to play in the finals. Piqua and

Xenia, two of the best teams in the southern divi-

sion, fell prey to our superior team work. Turney

was the main factor in pulling us through, and his

ability at shooting baskets, as well as his exception-

ally fine floor work, won him a place on the All-

State team. Commendable mention must also be

made of the unusual guarding of Highwarden which

placed him securely on the second All-State.

In the game for the championship of Southern Ohio

the following week we were matched against the

strong Greenfield aggregation. here again Turney

played one of the best games of his basketball ca-

reer, and we emerged with the long end of a 34-14

score, leaving us to play Mount Vernon in the finals

for the championship of Ohio.

The championship game was played before the

largest audience ever assembled in Edwards Gym-

nasium. We have no alibi to offer for our defeat.

Mount Vernon had the better team, and won the

game and honor by a 33-17 score. We are proud to

have met such a team as Mount Vernon, for they

deserved their victory; at the same time we cannot

forego an expression of our own pride in the team

that won the championship of Southern Ohio.

-SCOTT RADCLIFFE.

28

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 31)

[page 31]

[corresponds to page 29 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

Bulletin

[photograph of football team]

Football, 1921

A promising outlook greeted the opening of D.H.S.

football season: Seven "D" men with a host of new

material, many of whom had played before, reported

for the first work-out. In past years we had great

difficulty in securing a coach, and generally took

whomever we could get. This trouble was obviated

by the election of Mr. George Mahon to the faculty

corps. This former Wesleyan star joined our school

as teacher of Mathematics, athletic director and

coach. Under this new system, both coach and stu-

dents have taken greater interest in sports.

After two weeks' hard practice, we were met by

the strong aggregation from South High of Colum-

bus, and defeated 7-0.

The following week, we went to Columbus, where

we played Aquinas, another Capital City team, and,

through a few costly fumbles, we came home with

the small end of a 13-0 score.

Smarting under our two defeats, we prepared for

the Ashland game, with the determination to bring

about a vicotry--and so we did--for they were put

away with a disheartening 28-0 tally. The stellar

playing of Turney and Highwarden brought about

this victory.

Next came Mansfield. They were determined to

avenge the defeat of their neighbor, Ashland, but in

this they were disappointed, for we tucked them

away with the stinging defeat of 24-19. This was

one of the best games played on teh local field in

years, and the team received great praise from the

papers and from the town fans. The exceptionally

good playing of Turney and Spaulding was the fea-

ture of this contest.

The following week we played Galion in another

home game. We were unable to repeat the work of

the preceding Saturday and they were our victors

by the unhappy margin of 28-7. Through the good

work of Spaulding and Highwarden, we succeeded

in getting one touchdown.

Because of a heavy snowfall, it seemed as if our

season were temporarily at a standfill. This condi-

tion hindered our practice but little, however, and

the fellows, determined to put Bucyrus under cover,

practiced early and late, regardless of the weather.

The contest was staged at Bucyrus on a snow-cov-

ered field. Unfortunately, the team was greatly

crippled by the absence of Highwarden and Sands,

who were laid up on account of injuries received in

previous games. The loss of these men drove the

team to fight harder than ever to overcome this de-

ficiency, and although Delaware outplayed their op-

ponents, they lost their only chance to score when

Turney collided with the goal post. The game ended

with a 0-0 score.

We journeyed to Zanesville the following week,

where we played in a sea of mud; but the boys didn't

seem to mind this, and, due to the ability of Turney

and Spaulding to cross their opponents' goal-line, we

brought home the bacon.

The ensuing Saturday we met Marion on their

home field and suffered our first defeat from them

in years.

We finished the season by defeating the Alumni

7-0 in our annual Turkey-day game.

-SCOTT RADCLIFFE.

29

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 32)

[page 32]

[corresponds to page 30 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

Bulletin

[photograph of girls' basketball team]

Girls' athletics in D.H.S. started off in fine shape

under the direction of Miss Marjorie Crimm, our

coach of 1921. After many hard practice games,

teams were picked from the excellent material of

each class squad, all working hard to perfect their

passwork and basket-shooting in anticipation of

the third annual basketball tournament. This event

was started by a series of preliminary games, played

every week. The first two were played between the

Seniors and Juniors, followed by a Sophomore-

Freshman game. The outcome of these games was

in favor of the Seniors and Sophomores. The sec-

ond two games of the series were between the Se-

niors and Freshmen, and the Juniors and Sopho-

mores; in these contests the Seniors again were

victors and the Juniors on good footing. Next came

the semi-finals, which were played with much pep

and enthusiasm by all classes. The upper classes,

kept always on the jump, won by hard playing, thus

bringing them together for the final and decisive

game. Everyone on the teams adhered to strict

training; more careful practice and coaching was

gone through, and much interest displayed.

In the last and long looked-forward-to game, the

Junior team won by a score of 14 to 8, thus winning

the championship. A consolation game followed be-

tween the Sophomores and Freshmen in which the

"Sophs" got the long end of a 12 to 2 score.

The usual stunts between halves showed much

originality and humor in their portrayal of old-

fashioned customs, a mock girls' basketball game,

and a pipe-organ performance.

Line-up for championship game:

Juniors Seniors

Right Forward

Lova Volk.............Janet Dennis

Left Forward

Elsie Monesmith.......Mary Austin

Center

Frances Radcliffe.....Charlotte Rice

Right Guard

Mary McKenzie.........Hilda Kiessig

Left Guard

Florence Crawford.....Dorothy Powell

Lillian Murphy substituted for Mary Austin in

the second half. Miss Alice Patterson of O.W.U.,

refereed the game, and Miss Crimm umpired.

-FRANCES RADCLIFFE.

30

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 33)

[page 33]

[corresponds to page 31 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

Bulletin

[cast photo]

THE CAST

"MIKADO"

[photo of director]

MISS

SHEEN

DIRECTOR

[photo of accompanist]

DALE

BARTHOLOMEW

ACCOMPANIST

[photo of scenic artist]

D. BECK

SCENIC

ARTIST

31

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 34)

[page 34]

[corresponds to page 32 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

Bulletin

Affirmative Debate Team

[photographs]

Dorothy Whipple Beverly Kelley Elizabeth Hoffman Harold Stephens

The past debate year in Delaware High School has

been successful from two standpoints: first, in the

number of points scored, and second, in the devel-

oping of six excellent debaters.

The goal of the debaters and coaches has been not

to win decisions alone, but the important aim

was turning out from D.H.S. clear thinkers, and

young men and women who would understand the

value of hard work as well as constructive mental

discipline. This we believe has been accomplished.

In following this as a purpose we were most for-

tunate in having Mr. Harold W. Roupp from Ohio

Wesleyan University, who is an experienced debater,

as our coach and instructor.

Although we did not win the silver cup we scored

four out of a possible six points. There is a gen-

eral feeling among the High School students that

the decision of the Marion-Delaware debate was un-

warranted. However, the team offers no apology,

believing with the audience, that they had won the

debate even though the decision was against them.

[DHS logo]

32

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 35)

[page 35]

[corresponds to page 33 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

Bulletin

Negative Debate Team

[photographs]

Lillian Murphy Gladden Hull Catherine Houk John Beal

As for the turning out of six excellent debaters,

any one who attended either the Marion or Bucyrus

debate will see why we feel that the time spent was

well worth while. And feeling as we do about it,

we wish to urge more students to go out for this

forensic activity next year. It is important that the

school show well in mental as well as physical com-

bat.

There are three chief reasons why Delaware High

was successful during the past year: first, we receiv-

ed excellent coaching from Miss Phillips and Mr.

Roupp; second, the teams were not afraid of hard

work; and third, we knew that the school was be-

hind us, wishing us to do our best and win.

The year of 1923 will see three seasoned debaters

back in school. Our best wishes to next year's team.

We hope they will be even more successful than we

have been, and win the silver loving cup for Dela-

ware High. -JOHN BEAL.

[DHS logo]

33

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 36)

[page 36]

[corresponds to page 34 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

Bulletin

BULLETIN STAFF

[photographs]

34

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 37)

[page 37]

[corresponds to page 35 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

Bulletin

Editorials

Staff

Abigail Semans............Editor-in-Chief

Willis Stevenson.........Business Manager Elsie Monesmith................Art Editor

Miriam Stafford...........Literary Editor Alice Rush..................Alumni Editor

Lova Volk.......Assistant Literary Editor Scott Radcliffe...........Athletic Editor

Catherine Houk.......Subscription Manager Frances Radcliffe.........Athletic Editor

Mary Liebenderfer.....Advertising Manager Mrs. Dell McAfee Naylor...Faculty Advisor

A New Investment

Every respectable high school has a library com-

plete enough to furnish references for debate teams

and the collateral reading demanded by various sub-

jects. In order to be truthfully rated as a first class

high school we should have such a library. We

consider the action of the recently graduated class-

es in devoting their money to the equipment of a

high school reference room as very commendable.

Our aesthetic sense has been cultivated by the pic-

tures and statues which former classes have donat-

ed, and now we are glad for the practical develop-

ment afforded by the funds raised in more recent

years. Many school activities have contributed to

this cause, and the collection is growing quite large.

The class of 1918 gave four beautiful oak library

tables. One hundred and ninety-four dollars was

donated by the class of 1919 for books. Among

these volumes is a set of New International En-

cyclopedias, a Dictionary, and forty dollars worth

of other books. The Bulletins of the years of 1919,

1920, and 1921 have altogether given $333.33. The

interest from the high school Liberty bond is being

used for the collection. We must not overlook the

manual training boys who have made the fine

book shelves. The total sum amounts to $626.45.

Thus we see that the library is well under way, and

we expect that it will be in good working order by

next year.

The Hayes Centennial

When the news came that Warren G. Harding

had been elected by an overwhelming majority to

the Chief Executive Office, enthusiasm and excite-

ment prevailed here not only because another Pres-

ident had been added to Ohio's long list of famous

sons, but because his residence is only twenty miles

away from our city. That was all very well; but we

cannot help wondering whether or not one hundred

years from now Marion will have forgotten that she

was, in 1921, the center of the nation's interest, and

will have allowed her now most honored residence

to be neglected and run down. This will be the

case if Marion follows the example of her neighbor,

Delaware. It seems to us that since this is the cen-

tennial anniversary of the birth of Rutherford Birch-

ard Hayes, the citizens of Delaware should begin

to recognize that his birthplace is here, and in a

very deplorable condition. Surely all right think-

ing people will realize that this fact does not re-

flect credit on our town. Patriotism to our nation

as well as to our city demands that we remedy this

condition. Are the pupils of Delaware High School

going to allow our old time rivals to get ahead of

us even in showing respect to a native President?

We think that our point will be appreciated if we

conclude this article by the familiar phrase, "Yea

Delaware! Beat Marion"!

Tennis Courst for the High School

Tennis, one of the most interesting games in the

great field of athletics, is becoming more and more

popular in this country. Courts are being construct-

ed in every vacant lot and old garden patch. There

are many things to recommend this game; one is

that anyone can play it. It does not take a robust

person; neither does it take a tall one, as do other

sports. Tennis is a game every student should play

for mental reasons as well as physical. A keen

35

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 38)

[page 38]

[corresponds to page 36 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

Bulletin

mind is needed to understand and play the game

well. To be a good player one must be accurate

and must use very good judgment at all times.

Physically, it gives every muscle its proper exercise.

It occasions no overdoing, strained muscles or brok-

en bones as do almost all other athletics. An acci-

dent can be blamed on no one but the player him-

self.

What would be better for the high school than

good tennis courts? The school has access to a

very good football field and a fine basketball court;

and now that tennis is becoming so popular, why

not have courts? The question, that might enter

one's mind, where can ground be found on which

to construct them? can be thrown aside. The high

school owns a lot back of the building which is

large enough for two good courts, and is in a fine

location. What good is that idle ground doing for

us? Why not have it changed into something use-

ful and helpful to the student?

A Young Genius

An event took place on the evening of May 2 which

once more justifies Delaware High's reputation for

contributing to the world and which gives the class

of '23 ample cause to be very proud of a fellow mem-

ber. This event was the piano recital given by Dale

Bartholomew at Sanborn Hall. From the first ex-

quisite note until the last, the large audience was

literally held spellbound. Dale conducted himself

like a true virtuoso, with not a trace of self-con-

sciousness in his manner, holding the instrument al-

ways under perfect control. Beginning with Rach-

maninoff's "Prelude in G Minor," he played selec-

tions from Chopin, Schumann, Rubenstein, Liszt, and

Grieg. His fingers touched the keys lightly or

firmly as his interpretation of the selections varied,

but there was always that fullness and delicacy of

tone which mark the true artist. His technique

throughout was practically faultless.

There were present at the concert several in-

structors in music of the college and they were

equally well pleased with the success and well-de-

served praise of the young musician.

We of Delaware High School appreciate more than

ever before Dale's talent and ability and his ser-

vices in the Choral Class and Glee Club. He is un-

doubtedly destined for the highest success in the

musical world, and he has the very best wishes of

both the faculty and the pupils of Delaware High

School for the coming years.

Honor Member of Class of '22

It is not very often in a life time that one finds

within his own circle of acquaintances a young ge-

nius so brilliant that he is recognized by those ex-

perienced in his art, and is given an opportunity for

a swift and remarkable career. This was the reali-

zation to which the students of Delaware High

School awoke when Bernard Schweitzer appeared

suddenly as one of the brightest and most promis-

ing among the young explorers in the realm of mu-

sic. The student body has twice had the opportun-

ity of hearing Bernard sing since he took up his

study in Chicago, and has been delighted to mark

his progress. We are very proud of him because

he is one of our number, and because he received

part of his training, and, we hope, a great deal of

his inspiration while under the influence of our own

school. Had Bernard remained longer with us, he

would have graduated with this year's class.

After hearing him render most inspiringly the

famous "Hosanna" anthem, the Holy Name Cathe-

dral of Chicago succeeded in securing his services.

To appreciate the honor implied in this, we must

consider that the very greatest of singers have ac-

cepted invitations to sing in this cathedral.

So, fellow classmate, we wish you a realization of

your greatest hopes. We also look forward to that

day when we shall hear you in a greater hall than

the chapel of D.H.S.

[DHS logo]

36

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 39)

[page 39]

[corresponds to unlabeled page 37 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

Book III

Literature

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 40)

[page 40]

[corresponds to page 38 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

Bulletin

A Fantasy

Prone on the sun-

warmed sand,

just out of reach

of the breakers,

A Boy with a Suf-

fering Heart lay

thoughtfully gaz-

ing upward.

Sprinkling the stones with dew and filling the air

Back of the first great dune in a cottage low in the

valley,

Sick, and dying with care, his mother lay stricken

with fever;

Hers was the grief of the world, the down-trodden

world of the helpless.

All night long he had watched, till his eyes grew

heavy with vigil,

And now, as at length she slept, he lay thinking and

pond'ring and planning.

Was there not some way he, though his years one

might count on ten fingers,

Might bring, in his own small way, glad joy to the

heart of the sufferer?

Coax long-vanished smiles to her lips, as his own

smiles might seem in reflection?

Wearied with sorrow and care, and lulled by the

swish of the sea-surf,

His thoughts turned to happier paths, and his eyes

closed gently in slumber.

Suddenly faint in his ear a weird cry roused him to

action.

"Look!" it cried, "Look, ye, lad, for magic abides in

yon castle!"

The Boy with the Suffering Heart first glanced, then

gazed in amazement.

Afar, where the dune had been a castle rose sheer

to the heavens.

Silver and gold were its walls, and its windows

gleamed brighter than jewels.

Its towers were wreathed in mist that sparkled like

dew on the hawthorne.

Nearer and nearer he drew. Urged on by a great

fascination

He mounted its Parian steps, and paused not, but en-

tered its portals.

Suddenly, born on the breeze, came the same weird

voice from the ether.

"Mortal, guard well thy tongue, for ne'er since the

last king of Egypt

Died by the hand of the dream folk, those guardians

who watch o'er the castle

For sland'ring the name of the wardens, has mortal

e'er glimpsed this great vision.

Thou of the Suffering Heart must cherish and honor

the privilege.

What thou wilt see beyond is not for the scorn of the

rabble.

Its sight must be earned by faith and kindness and

thoughts of endearment."

Urged by the same fascination, and quickened by

glad expectation

That some how in some strange way the dream folk

would answer his problem,

He raced down the long light hall till two doorways

rose, thwarting his passage.

One opened on sunlit halls where fountains played

gayly and lightly,

Sprinkling the stones with dew and fillin gthe air

with sweet perfume.

Round it the flowers sprang, holding their cups to

its showers,

Like a rare rug for the trees, which teemed with the

sweetest of songsters.

Rose and lily and fern played hide and seek with

the thrushes.

Gayly in and out, in the shade, 'mongst the birds and

the flowers

Dancing in gay attire were the mystical, care-free

dream folk.

Blue were their eyes as the sky, and their hair shone

like gold in the sunlight,

Clothed in shimmering white, richly embroidered

with purple,

Azure and saffron and rose, with the green of wee

leaves in the springtime.

Spellbound he stood in the door, nor quivered, till

roused by the weird voice,

He let his gaze slowly be turned, till it fell on the

opposite doorway.

Startled with horror and pain he choked back a sob

e'er it 'scaped him.

For as he gazed within, till his eyes grew used to

the dead light

He saw not a thing but space, as black as a cellar

at midnight.

Gradually came into view the skull of a man, with

its jaw bone

Cruelly broken across, and beside it a chest filled

with treasure;

Here hung a hang-man's rope still looped in the

death-knot of slaughter;

Here was a gibbet; beneath, the mouldering bones of

its victims.

Turning away in disgust, he stepped toward the

doorway of dreamland.

When suddenly both doors were gone, and he was

38

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 41)

[page 41]

[corresponds to page 39 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

Bulletin

alone in his sadness.

He sank to the floor in his grief, and his sobs broke

the silence of ages.

"Why can't it all be like that, all beauty, and glory,

and radiance?"

An agonized sigh shook his frame, his heart was

breaking with sorrow.

Suddenly faint but clear, the weird voice, softened

to music

Fell on his heart like balm, then ceased he his weep-

ing to listen.

"Oh, Boy of the Suffering Heart, hearken to all that

I tell you.

You in your innocent grief, have stumbled on life's

greatest lesson.

The castle you now are within holds the secret of

human endeavor;

Yon rooms were the souls of men, some good, some

teeming with evil.

"Long ago in this hall, ere began the great cycle of

ages,

The wrong of the world was confined, till arose a

great monster named Rumor

Who broke through the heavy barred walls and freed

from their bonds of confinement

The spirits of evil and sin, who now roam the wide

world at random.

But alas, as he broke through the wall, a stone shak-

en loose from its moorings

Stopped up the door of gold, and blocked that pas-

sage forever.

Wearily watching and waiting, year after year with-

out number,

The guardian sprites of the hall have searched for a

mortal, a human

Who could roll the stone from the door and free all

good from its burden.

Thrice have they tried and failed, thrice turned anew

to their mourning.

"Now we have welcomed you with the hope which

seems beyond hoping,

That a Boy with a Suffering Heart, urged on by un-

selfish emotions,

Might say the potent word that would loose the stone

from the portal.

Speak the wish nearest your heart. I go, for I dare

not stay longer."

A cry of joy on his lips, the Boy, no longer

dejected,

Sprang like a dart to his feet--"Aid, help for my

suffering mother!"

A flash of light, a whirl, a sound of echoing

music,

A blurr of mingled hues as the dream folk rushed on

toward the doorway.

Blinded and dazed and stunned, the Boy fell tremb-

ling, startled.

The harsh stones turned to sand he was back again

by the sea side.

The breakers were loud and fierce, steadily rain-

drops were falling.

Stumbling and weak in his haste, the lad rushed on

toward the cottage.

The dream folk were free at last, but where, oh,

where had they vanished?

"Look," came the low weird voice, "Look to the west-

ward and southward."

He turned then stopped in amazement, a glad cry

burst forth from his bosom,

"Mother, oh, mother, look, the dream folk, high in

the heavens!"

High in the arch of ether, where the clouds were

broken asunder,

The sun shone through on the mist, and the air was

tinted to purple,

Azure and saffron and rose, with the green of wee

leaves in the springtime.

His mother turned on her couch, with the weary

look of the dying,

But as she looked at the tinted arch, her pain be

came gladness,

The gray lines left her face, she sank back pale and

exhausted

But now to grow stronger each hour, for a promise

of good everlasting,

A token of dream folk faith was this rainbow arch

in the heavens.

Prone on the sun warmed sand, just out of reach of

the breakers,

A Boy with a Happy Heart, lay thoughtfully gazing

upward.

Back of the first great dune, in a cottage low in the

valley,

Weak, but happy, and stronger each hour, his moth-

er lay sleeping.

The Boy with the Happy Heart as he lay there lulled

by the sea surf,

Freed from his heavy care, closed his eyes softly in

slumber.

Faint through his dreams, there came, the low weird

tones of the dream folk,

"Saved by his generous wish, we promise him peace

everlasting."

Ages have come and gone, but oft in the sky of a

summer,

After a heavy shower, comes the rainbow, the pledge

of the dream folk.

-CHARLOTTE RICE, '22.

39

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 42)

[page 42]

[corresponds to page 40 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

Bulletin

The Amateur Househusband

Henry Obstinate, a father and husband, who be-

came exasperated because Mrs. Minerva Obstinate

put in a plea for a clothes-wringer and, having re-

ceived it, untactfully sent in a similar plea for a

washing-machine, quite boldly declared he could

take care of the house as a recreation. Wise Mrs.

Obstinate refrained from pressing her desire and

Henry went to his club; but when he returned to

his peaceful realm, he was informed by note that his

practical wife thinking he needed a period of re-

creation, had gone to her old home in order to per-

mit him to enjoy the needed rest. She left the chil-

dren, Mary and John, to keep him from getting lone-

some during the many hours in which he would be

unoccupied with household duties.

Monday morning dawned radiant and calm, but

Henry slept serenely on. At the late hour of eight,

John and Mary anxiously arose and surveyed their

audacious parent. Why hadnt he called them? They

dressed for school with unusual hilarity. Presently,

vociferous sounds issued from above.

"Why hasn't Minerva called me?" shrieked Henry

as he came panting down the stairs. Then he re-

membered his spouse had departed for a time. Well,

he would show "Min"! He commenced his "recrea-

t'on" by laboriously trying to comb and braid Mary's

hair. What a mess! How did "Min" do it? He final-

ly disposed of that incident by leaving her hair un-

braided and tying an awkward-looking bow around

it. Much to his chagrin, he discovered that it was

too late for the children to go to school.

After one-half hour of swearing and wrestling

he had three eggs fried, but Mary and John refused

to eat theirs because he had stirred the fire with the

egg-turner, then turned the eggs! In the midst of

the confusion of the children's crying, the eggs pop-

ping, and Henry hopping around with his hair in his

eyes, at the same time nursing a burnt hand, the tele-

phone rang. "Hello! Hello!! Hello!!!" shouted

Henry. Slam! Went the receiver followed by a tor-

rent of profane language.

"It is ten o'clock and you haven't started the

washing yet. 'Min' always had it done by nine

o'clock," reminded Henry's conscience. He dutifully

gathered up as many dirty clothes as he could find,

promising himself he would wash the breakfast

dishes with the dinner dishes. He had a vivid recol-

lection of a boiler of water which he had been in the

habit of putting on for "Min," so he put a boiler

full of water on the stove and piled the clothes in.

By the time this was accomplished it was time to

get dinner in order to give the younger Obstinates

something to eat before they started to school.

With one hand burnt and his disposition badly

injured, Henry rumaged through the cellar and pan-

try in a frantic effort to find a cook-book and some-

thing to cook. He found some canned goods from

which he selected a can of peaches, a can of sweet-

potatoes, a can of peas, and a can of salmon. As

the "amateur househusband" began slashing reck-

lessly into the top of a can, the can-opener undiplo-

matically slipped, causing the wielder to gash his

hand on the ragged edge of the lid. Howling in

anguish, he bound up the cut and proceeded more

slowly. Having completed his task, he called the

children in to partake of the "tin" dinner. The peas

were partially prepared but since the cook couldn't

find the cook-book he was not to be censured if

things weren't altogether edible. The remainder of

the victuals was cold.

The younger inmates disposed of, the washing

was resumed. As Mr. Obstinate turned to the boil-

ing clothes, he looked with awe upon the strangely

colored water. He gingerly picked up a garment

and after careful inspection recognized his ex-best

white shirt, ex-best--for, alas--one sleeve was a

dingy black and the front was an elegant mottled

red. He limply stood gazing at his neighbor's beau-

tiful white shirt, tauntingly waving on the line.

Mystified, he hunted for the wash-board and tub;

then he went to work. After hours of real labor

at the wash-board, in which the only thing that was

accomplished was the further disfigurement of his

hands and what appeared like the last stages of

lumbago in his back, he gave up in despair. He sat

down, gazed from the best suit of clothes all wet

and dabbed with flour, to his hands all red and

blistered, then to the kitchen which looked as though

a small tornado had just passed through it.

As the victim was brooding over some of the evils

in life, the lesser Obstinates trooped in. As usual,

they were on the brink of starvation and since it

was nearly five o'clock, supper loomed up before

Henry's eyes. Supper is generally a soothing thought

to most people, but to Henry it was a dancing figure

dressed in red and possessing two extremely long,

pointed horns which protruded from above either

eye. Mary produced a cook-book and Henry donned

the chef's cap once more, armed himself with spoons

and flour, then proceeded to make biscuits.

Now, the neighborhood owned in joint-partnership,

three common black cats which had just discovered

the Obstinate family's bowl of milk that Henry had

so innocently placed on the porch to keep cool.

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These domesticated quadripeds had unanimously vot-

ed to consume that opaque fluid at the same mo-

ment that Henry, unsuspectingly, glanced out. In

rage, he jumped at such an exhibition but the ex-

hibitors jumped quicker. While Henry was wrath-

fully viewing the enhancing picture that the three

anthracitic felines, each licking his jaws and each

reposing on the fence, made against the horizon, he

became conscious of a peculiar odor. Henry ran

back into the kitchen--but, alas!--his culinary art,

the biscuits, were perfect pictures of mud turtles

huddled under their shells, and in fact they felt much

the same too! Poor Henry felt as though his cran-

ial cavity was almost devoid of that desired sub-

stance, grey-matter.

The next morning Mrs. Obstinate was amused

when a telegram arrived which was written thus:

"Come home. Sick. Choose washer."

-MILDRED CAVIN, '23.

Sheer Luck Combs

An Original Story of Deductive Reasoning

By the Author

THE MISSING SPARK PLUG

Sheer Luck sat in his den deeply engaged in study

and profound reflection. He had, just two days be-

fore finished deducting the facts in the case of Elu-

sive Killem, which on the previous day had led to

the arrest of that gentlemen; and now he was try-

ing to solve the problem of the capture of Slim Jim

by the Bingville police force.

The butler entered and handed him a card an-

nouncing Miss Billionaires.

"Show her in," said Sheer Luck.

She entered, tall, stately, and handsome, wearing

a dress of the latest production of the designer's art.

"What's the trouble?" asked Sheer Luck Combs,

unconcernedly.

"May I speak confidentially?" asked the beautiful

blond.

"Sure."

"Well, then, I have come to have you solve the

intricate problem concerning the missing spark plug

in my limousine. You know I had a car made to

order with a peculiar spark plug, which cannot be

duplicated. If you can keep a secret, I shall tell

you one. The Count De von Marrymoney, of Bo-

logne, and I were to elope in this very car, so it

would be quite provoking to spoil all the romantic

sensations by using any other now. My father does

not favor my marriage with the count, but of course

it would not be romantic if father and mother both

agreed to the union."

"I see, I see."

"But about the spark plug," continued Miss Bil-

lionaires, "I always carry that on the end of a gold

chain about my neck so no one can drive the car

but myself. The plug resembles an antique locket.

At night I place it in a small vault which no one

knows about except myself. It is in my own room

and impossible to be seen, since it is so well con-

cealed."

"Well, then, you mean to say that it was stolen

from your vault last night at twelve o'clock by a

person who entered--you know not how--and van-

ished even more mysteriously when you sat up in

bed."

"Wonderful! How did you know?" asked the

amazed beauty.

"Very simple. I just deducted it from your talk."

"Then can you assist me in finding the valuable

article?"

"Certainly. It is this moment in your father's

posession. He has it in his right-hand vest pocket."

"But how do you know?"

"Since you ask, I shall explain. Your father did

not want you to marry the count?"

"No."

"He knew you were going to elope in your car,

because you told your mother and she is a woman.

Your father knew that the car had but one spark

plug, and he also knew of the vault, because he saw

you open it one night when you were unaware of his

presence. Mr. Dexterous Sharp, the magician and

pickpocket, as well as the contortionist and hypno-

tist, wanted to earn two hundred and fifty dollars,

so he burglarized your father's house--by his con-

sent--and secured the article. It is now in your

father's vest pocket, because most men carry valu-

ables there, for a while at least."

"A wonderful and amazing intellect!" said the

swan-like creature. "But how can I secure the

plug?"

"Give Mr. Sharp five hundred to rob your dad."

"Good! I'll do so immediately. But where can I

find Mr. Sharp?"

"Next room to the right. He's my partner."

Thus Uncle Sam lost another billion heiress, but

Sheer Luck Combs continues to deduce evidence from

nothing, and has a world-wide fame.

-EDNA WOOD, '24.

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Joe Strikes for Liberty

Not long ago, Mr. Ireland, of the Dispatch, took a

trip into Kentucky. The Sunday after his return,

the "Passing Show" was filled with cartoons of what

he had seen there, and his comments upon them.

Among them was a touching little illustration de-

picting an old mountaineer climbing up the trail on

horseback, while his better half labored along be-

hind him on a mule, most dejectedly. It was evi-

dently Mr. Ireland's purpose to illustrate the habit-

ual position of a mountaineer's lady, and so far as I

know, he is right in assuming that the greater por-

tion of Kentucky women do shirk along behind their

husbands; slaves, living only for their master's

pleasure.

But there is an exception. Indeed in the case of

which I am about to speak, the accepted positions of

husband and wife were just reversed.

It seems that Joe and Lizzie, his wife, lived in

hardworking comfort in a more or less spacious

shack on the farm of a well-to-do mountaineer. Liz-

zie worked hard, and Joe, spurred on by a stimulus

the nature of which only husbands know, did like-

wise. Joe's loftiest ambition was to sit around all

day in the sun, bare as to feet and vacant as to mind,

and with the assurance of three good meals a day

and a soft bed at night, watch Lizzie hang out the

clothes. Of these, the most longed for privilege and

the one most improbable of fulfillment, was that of

watching Lizzie hang out the clothes. For whatever

part Joe may have had in the weekly rite of washing

was emphatically not that of onlooker. In fact he

was never idle; if Lizzie didn't want him to help her

wash, she ordered him to mind the baby or stir the

beans. And Joe, of course, had a man's aversion to

all of these housewifely duties.

Those who knew the state of affairs at the Tolliver

home were fond of telling a story about poor Joe.

They said that Mr. Warren, on whose farm Joe's

shack stood, had once asked him to help with the

hay. Joe, torn between a wholesome awe of his wife

and a desire to do a real man's work with real men

for the first time in his married life, stumbled and

quavered, but finally managed to convey the idea that

to pitch hay would be his dearest delight, but he

"kinda thought Lizzie wuz washin' today; he didn't

know ef she wuz er not, but he reckoned he'd better

go ask her fore he decided."

So ask her he did, only to find that Lizzie wanted

to go to an all-day revival meeting and had decreed

that Joe's place was in the home. Lizzie was not

particularly diplomatic about it, and she did not

realize that every road has a winding. Neither did

she realize that Joe was aware of the fact that he

was the laughing stock of the community; that he

was tired of her ceaseless dominion; and that to his

sluggish mind at last had come the realization that

he could escape. Ignorant of all these things, how-

ever, she went her pious way, never doubting Joe's

fidelity.

On her return, she found the shack emp-

ty; even the baby was gone. Eventually the baby

was found asleep by the creek her feet trailing in

the water, and Lizzie's anxieties were stilled. Joe

could look out for himself. She never thought of

him until her beans got burnt from lack of the usual

stirring, or on wash day.

As for Joe, he was not far away. He had simply

gone down the road and across the river to Blue

Bonnet, where he got a position in the mines. The

hours were short, the pay sufficient, and no one ques-

tioned his right to chew his tobacco unceasingly or

to sleep whenever he wanted to. He never thought

of Lizzie except at meal time, for in spite of her

shrewish tendencies, Lizzie was a good cook, and he

had always been well fed. But the food now avail-

able was not of the best, and no matter if he was

plebian in most respects, Joe's stomach was aristo-

cratic. Then, too, the work at the mines we begin-

ning to pall upon him.

Finally, like other great men of history, Joe was

conquered by his appetite and he went home to his

loving spouse. She greeted him stolidly, betraying

no surprise or any other emotion, but Joe was used

to that. If he had any qualms, one glance at the

clothes-line was enough to dispel them. He said,

"Liz, give yuh a dollar a week fer room 'n board."

Liz's lips said nothing but her eyes did. In response,

Joe drew out one of his dollars. He continued, "One

dollar, three meals a day an' room. You 'n me be

strangers to one 'nother." He meant by this that

he did not intend to do the washing, but he was too

delicate to say so.

Lizzie agreed, and got her sister to come and pay

her a visit. Joe got his three meals, but his room

was the kitchen and his bed the floor, for the only

other room besides the kitchen was occupied by Liz-

zie, her sister, and the baby.

In spite of this and a few like draw-backs, Joe

was very well pleased, for in his role of stranger

and roomer, he was never nagged at or made to

stir the beans. But he reached the zenith of his

glory when he was the joy of sitting on the grass

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less plot which was the yard, watching Lizzie hang

out the clothes.

All went well for a few weeks, but the time came

when the stock of dollars was exhausted. He knew

that Lizzie's good food and shelter would be no long-

er forthcoming without the weekly dollar. The cold

weather, too, was coming on, and the need of shoes

was beginning to be felt. Lizzie was adament in her

refusal to get out his winter clothing. In her own

words, "I ain't a-goin' to let no stranger war my

husban's close."

In despair, Joe departed once more for the mines,

only to find that they were closed. There was no

work in the town; Blue Bonnet had settled into its

customary winter stupor.

Luck was against him wherever he turned. He

felt in his ragged pocket for his old standby, his

"plug o' tobaccy," and brought his hand out, empty

save for one lonely nickel. With it he could have

invested in more tobacco but he knew that if he did,

the luxury of riding across the river in "the boat"

would never be his, for Ma McCoy, the slatternly

woman who lived on the opposite bank and whose

leaky, home-made skiff was the only ferry, was

exacting in her demands for payment. He renounc-

ed his longed-for "chaw," signalled to her, and she

rowed across and pulled up on the shore. He paid

no attention to her shrill command to "stan' up in

th' middle, 'n mebbe she'll swarp off'n th' bank

better." He was engrossed in his thoughts.

All too quickly the skiff reached the opposite

shore, his last nickel was in Ma's grimy fist, and

he was plodding up the mountain road wondering

where his next meal was to come from and where

he would sleep that night. To worry was foreign

to his nature; he believed, without reasoning, that

when the time came a course would open.

He became colder and more miserable every min-

ute, but at last he approached the shack and turned

into the yard. As he went into the kitchen he stum-

bled over the baby playing in the dirt in the door-

way. Picking her up, he awkwardly soothed her

cries and went into the kitchen. A familiar odor

greeted his nostrils, a familiar scene, his eyes. Lizzie

was washing. He was cold; he was hungry. The

room was warm and a kettle of beans boiled on the

stove.

He looked out the door; the wind was rising and the

sky was gray with cold. Joe turned again to the

kitchen and, without a word, lifted a tub of dirty

clothes to the floor and stepped into it, his feet

slopping the warm water and stamping the dirt from

the clothes in the fashion approved by the moun-

taineer housewives. His zeal was pathetic.

Lizzie said nothing; she understood. She disap-

peared and presently returned with a pair of clumsy

boots and thick sox.

"Gittin' cold," she remarked. "Better put on them

boots whin yuh git through. Stir th' beans."

-ANNE BOOTON, '22

One Saturday in the Ten Cent Store

There was a time when the word "clerk" brought

to my mind the picture of an untidy, uneducated, and

unrefined young woman. However, I have since

changed my views and now I realize that, although

she may not be a college graduate, the same young

lady is clean and intelligent, and often more sens-

ible than many of the girls who are graduated from

the best university.

To be sure much more is demanded of the shop

girl today: if she be lacking in intelligence and

quick-witted mastery of a situation, she will soon

lose her place; she must be able to meet all kinds of

people pleasantly; she must be able to understand

those who cannot or do not speak clearly; she must

be able to make out the numerous reports and lists

required by the management; she must be accurate

in everything, particularly in accounting for stock,

in ringing money in the register, and in making

change, for, if she is not accurate, she will probably

get such a tongue-lashing from some irate customer

that she will flinch for a week.

The clerk must always be prompt in the morning

and at noon, prompt to wait upon the people and

to answer their questions, which are often very fool-

ish. She must always have a smile, no matter what

may be hidden back of it; she must be polite under

all circumstances--a duty which is, I think, the most

difficult, because it is human nature to want to speak

for one's self, especially if wrongly accused. But

the girl behind the counter must smother her feel-

ings and calmly listen to anything the customer

wishes to say. She must never show impatience

even though a lady should take all day to decide

whether she wishes a five or a ten-cent pair of shoe

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laces, a mock diamond or ruby ring.

On the other hand the clerk has many pleasures,

and enjoys many good times with the other girls.

Then, too, there is the enjoyment of work well done

and a day well spent. To the school girl, working

in the store one day a week is all pleasure, for she

does not have any of the hardwork to do; and, be-

sides the rest from the monotony of school routine,

she has an easy way of getting spending money

without having to ask father each time.

Furthermore, such work gives one an excellent

chance to study kinds of people and characters.

There is the flashily dressed young girl who buys a

ten-cent box of rouge and takes from her purse a

ten-dollar bill with which to pay; and the aristo-

cratic lady who looks at all the perfumes and asks,

"Is this all the kind of perfume you've got?" In

contrast to these types is the poor mother, who looks

as if she had not as much as seen a new dress since

her wedding day, with a half dozen ragged little chil-

dren about her. She has, perhaps, fifty cents in her

worn pocket-book, which she spends upon cheap

toys and candy for her young brood.

There are two types of college girls, the snob and

the non-snob. The non-snob wears a pleasing smile

and treats the clerk as an equal, while the snob

sails along with a high-and-mighty air seeming to

think the clerk was made to serve her; and the un-

usual part of it is that most often the snob is unbe-

comingly dressed, and looks as if she might have a

mother at home who, wrinkled and careworn, wash-

es in order to earn money enough to give her daugh-

ter a good education. Following this "malforma-

tion," in a class by herself, is the young business

girl who is much more considerate of others and

who is a delight to wait upon; she has had some

experience with people and knows how the clerk

feels.

Then comes the young married man whose wife

has sent him for a hair net. He doesn't know what

color, whether it should be single or double meshed,

with or without elastic,--or just a hair net. If she

wants some crochet-cotton, the young husband, pick-

ing up a spool of black darning cotton, will inquire,

"Is this the only color crochet thread you have?"

And so on through the whole list of patrons.

From the richest to the poorest, from the largest

to the smallest, one can tell who and what they are

by the way they walk, talk, and act. Although there

are many trying incidents, the funny ones are by far

the more numerous, and the experience is worth

while to any girl, for it helps to broaden her views

and make her more thoughtful of others.

-ALICE RUSH, '23.

The Poet's Belief

The realm in which the poet-soul dwells is un-

doubtedly a far-away world to the ordinary man.

The spirit of poetry bursts forth from a heart,--not

from a mind,--a heart that is overflowing with the

deepest conceivable passions. An understanding of

and a sympathy for the feelings of his fellowmen

is a great essential to the true poet, for the readers

of his works look not only for pleasure and enjoy-

ment from his pen, but rather for a helpful, an up-

lifting thought that will duly pay them for the time

they spend with him.

Many have written jingles, love songs, and dra-

matic narrative poems, which have gained much ap-

plause; but would these alone suffice if we could

not learn to know the poet by the expression of his

beliefs? If there be poetry in him, his whole soul

summons this expression, whereby we come to

know him, and if he can supply us with that uplift-

ing, that moving quality for which we have searched,

does it not seem that he is near and in fond company

with the living God of Wisdom?

But what are we to say of two who are recognized

as being among the world's best producers of verse,

--Homer and Virgil? Their seemingly immortal works

bespeak the fact that they must have a god--that is,

a source of inspiration, hope, and higher ideals; but

was this the Heavenly Father? We have proof, too,

that Virgil's belief lay not in one god, but in many

gods, not all of whom were faultless.

However, the lack of consciousness of divine sym-

pathy upon the part of these early composers who

had not yet the witness of Christ, forbids the inter-

pretation of their real personalities. In the realm

of superstition they are lost, and the valuable and

interesting material left us by them leaves us with

an inexpressible coldness.

What a different effect is produced by the cherish-

ed memorials of those others who felt the divine

touch! How many have been comforted by the

soothing melody of the imperishable faith of Tenny-

son! His lines

"For so the whole round earth is every way

Bound by gold chains about the feet of God"

are the key to his immense chamber of understand-

ing and sympathy. In the possession of these tal-

ents, our "Idyll" poet stands not alone, for by his

side marches an army of trustful servants, the man-

ifestation of whose beliefs in the All-Powerful One

is inestimable. In these lines from Lanier's

"Marshes of Glynn"

"As the marsh hen secretly builds on the watery

sod,

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Behold I will build me a nest on the greatness of

God"

is portrayed his absolute confidence in this One

which makes his work both beautiful and imperish-

able.

A review of the lives of others skilled in the poet-

ical art would serve as just examples of the fact

that, although undoubtedly they put their faith in

some unknown power, this was not always the God

of Love.

These poems which possess a tendency to draw

the soul toward the ethereal realms are the most

moving and eternal of these gifts. Those artists

whose pens produce these works are, perhaps, God's

best instruments for leading the world to Him.

Think of the tear-drops and smiles of rejoicing that

are prompted by the Psalms and Hymns of those

who know Him. And, after all, are not these mere-

ly an expression of man's greatest passion, Love?

-DOROTHY BARRETT, '22.

Lest We Forget

Last December Delaware High suffered the loss

of one of its best known students when George

Noble answered his final summons. He was a mem-

ber of '24, loyal and active in every phase of school

life. We shall always remember him for his win-

ning ways, his manly behavior, and his splendid

sense of good fellowship which endeared him to us

all. Until the very last, he never gave up the hope

that he would be with us again, that he would once

more share our good times in D.H.S. We cannot

help but feel that his spirit is even now with us in-

spiring us to higher endeavor.

When we think of the untold agony George went

through during the long months of his illness, it

seems that, to him, death must have been a God-

send. Even when he had reached the valley and

only awaited the time when he would solve the mys-

teries of the great beyond, he had a kind word and

a smile for his friends. It seems that nothing more

significant could express his wonderful courage

than these few lines:

"It's easy enough to be cheerful

When life flows along like a song,

But the man worth while

Is the man with a smile,

When everything goes dead wrong."

Certainly we who found such a true pal in George

can look forward to the time when, after life's for-

tunes and misfortunes are set aside, we shall find

him awaiting his friends.

-BEVERLY KELLEY, '24.

Autumn

Autumn's train comes dancing, whirling,

O'er the summer's sun-baked land,

Like a gala-day procession,

Like a pageant's motley band.

Here a dash of red and yellow;

There of purple; yonder, green;

Peasant woman's broidered kerchief;

Spanish dancer; golden sheen

Mingled with rich, royal purple,

Truly worthy of a queen.

Lasts it all but for a moment;

Fleet the vision fades away,

Yields its place in turn to Winter,

Winter, cold, and drear, and gray.

-CHARLOTTE RICE, '22.

LaJoie

One fleeting glimpse!

Far in the billowy clouds

The azure tips of my Blue Bird

I see. Alas! He, too has gone.

But no! Just overhead he turns

And darts straight down to me.

I close my eyes. I dare not look

Upon that joyous symbol.

A fluttering faint!

And then a rush of azure tips

Have brushed my cheek in passing

And left me Youth, and Love,

And best of all, a Happiness Eternal.

-ADELINE WELCH, '22.

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Written for and dedicated to the

Delaware (O.) High School.

Alma Mater Song.

Charles E. Bodurtha, '20. Bernard Schweitzer, '21.

Andantino maestoso.

[musical score for SATB voices with piano accompaniment, in 3/4 time, key of D Major; text printed below]

Wher-e'er you go, There you may know Mem-'ries of High School will

stand;...........Thoughts of her fame, Love of her name, Will thrill you in

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ev-'ry land;........Hon-or un-stained, Fair play pro-claimed,

Sym-bol-i-zes our band. Del-a-ware High, Del-a-ware

High, This is our cry, High, High, Del-a-ware High.

Alma Mater Song--2.

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Lullaby Lily

LULLABY LILY, sweet little

lily,

She lived in the ripples of Lullaby Lake;

And one of the breezes, the soft, summer breezes,

To Lullaby Lily a song would he make.

He loved little Lily, white Lullaby Lily,

But long upon Lullaby Lake did he sigh

Before to his singing, his soft, summer singing,

Dear Lullaby Lily would make a reply.

Then, out on the ripples, the round-running ripples,

The breeze heard the lily's soft voice, as she said,

"Oh go to the babies, the bad, bouncing babies,

Whose mammas can't soothe them and put them to

bed

To fat, funny babies, and round, rolly babies,

Their little hands clapping, their eyes all aglow;

To sad, sighing babies, and wee, wailing babies,

Their little lips trembling in wavering woe.

One dear little baby, a week, woeful baby,

Has found a cool bed under starlight and trees.

Oh, go to the mother, the wan, weeping mother,

And give her our blessing, sweet, soft, summer

breeze;

Go carry my perfume, my light, lily perfume,

(And mingle the cool of your breath as you blow)

To all of the babies, the world-weary babies,

Whose little lives long for the summer to go.

For I am the lily called Lullaby Lily,

And I want my sweetness to make the world glad."

So that's why, my darling, my dear, dainty, darling,

You're sleeping--the breeze did as lily sweet bade!

-MIRIAM STAFFORD, '23.

Cuban Dawn

I came on watch at midnight, and although the

day had been intently hot, the off-sea breeze blow-

ing over the deck of the ship had cooled things won-

derfully, and now at four o'clock it was delightfully

refreshing and without the customary sultriness that

gives one that languid sort of feeling that is always

felt near Cuba. The breeze which had been blowing

practically all night had worn itself out, and in that

calm grayness just before the dawn, the ocean as-

sumed a mirrored smoothness in its very stillness.

There was not a sound save that of my own foot-

steps as I walked up and down the deck. It was yet

but a short hour till dawn, and a creeping sense of

oncoming light added to the breathless intensity, an

intensity like that felt by the soldier at the zero hour

of a charge.

In the magical shifting of the shadows, there was

seen, but a few feet above the horizon, a bank of

clouds, the under line of which seemed to rest paral-

lel with the ocean, the upper a jagged line, like the

blade of a giant saw, the whole forming a sort of

sensitive screen about the lower edge of the eastern

sky. Gradually the dull grayness became transfused

with a gorgeous royal purple, lined with a delicate

pink; then as the sun rose slowly through its heaven-

ly path, it changed in an instant the azure of the

ocean to a perfect sea of gold, flooding the world, it

seemed, with a Midas-like splendor. An artist would

never dare attempt to paint a picture like that, for

its rich and mellow beauty in unbelievable unless

one can see it in its natural grandeur.

But the scene changed: the sun was lifted behind

the screen and the sea of gold melted and resumed

its former serene azure with but a trace of gold.

Again a new scene was created before me. The sun,

now risen beyond the screen, smothered the ocean in

a dazzling brilliant pink, with still a touch of gold

intermingling with that rich blue seen only in a

southern sky; a very riot of colors one would say,

yet softened and subdued like the mellow beauty of

a rose.

I turned from the ocean view, and looked but a

short distance to the entrance of Santiago Bay, with

Morro Castle in ruins standing as a reminder of its

old guardianship over the harbor. The soft gray of

the Castle stood out from the background of the low

white buildings on the slope of the hills beyond. The

trees, the bushes, the grass, the very hills them-

selves seemed green--a deep, rich, emerald green

that brought out the beauty and brilliance of the

buildings like the setting of a diamond.

The ship's bell struck five. What! An hour wast-

ed in merely looking at the scenery Wasted? Ah,

no; for these scenes have left a picture, nay, a vision,

too beautiful to be real,--a scene I shall never forget.

WILLIAM E. JONES, '22.

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[page 51]

[corresponds to page 49 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

Bulletin

A Diplomatic Romance

Dear Dad:

Arrived O.K. this A.M. and Aunt Ella was at the

train to meet me. She is just fine and sends love.

We are set for a "tea" this afternoon. I suppose

it will be a bore, women sit in one corner and talk

about their best friends while the men try to look

interested. Oh yes! there is a special feature for

this afternoon. I am to meet Count de Preles. He

is representing the French Government here unoffi-

cially. Thrills! Thrills! Thrills!

Well, dear, I will write you all about it tomorrow

as we are going to the opera tonight.

With lots of love,

MADGE.

Dearest Pater:

(That's Latin, Daddy). Well, I met the Count de

Preles. He is the most insipid looking mortal, but

to give him credit he is very good looking, although

his clothes fit so precisely, his hair always looks

just so, and his mustache is also scrupulous. I'll

bet that he couldn't do a good day's work and I don't

suppose he ever saw a gymnasium unless it was to

take a perfumed shower bath. He is quite attentive

and Aunt Ella is charmed with him. I suppose when

your husband is in the president's cabinet, you have

to be nice to foreigners, though, don't you?

Well, I am going to play golf with the Count-No-

Account today. Love,

MADGE.

Dearest Daddy:

How are you? I am just fine! I'm so excited!

I have scented a mystery. No, it isn't from a dime

novel either. You know that there have been some

royal Russian jewels sold to the French government.

They were stolen and people believe some one

brought them to this country. Dad, I think the

Count knows something about it. You see the man

who stole them, also stole the credentials of a

French diplomat. They were not marked except

only one of many so they couldn't be traced. No

one knows why the Count is here. He doesn't do

anything much but play golf, but I've caught him

looking around at receptions as if he was afraid of

being watched. I'm going to cultivate his friend-

ship and see if I can't help in locating the jewels, as

Uncle Ralph says that it is very urgent that they

find them.

Yours,

MADGE.

Dearest:

The plot thickens. Last night we had a dance. I

went with the Count, and, Dad I caught him--not

with the jewels--but he was talking to the butler

givign him orders. I listened and heard him say,

"We'll go slowly; we can't risk discovery!" When I

coughed and stepped out, he acted as if he had just

asked the butler for his hat. He is clever.

Then on our way home, we went for a long ride.

He has a marvelous voice and is remarkably fond

of telling stories and also of his many travels. Tru-

ly, he is an exceptional man, but he can't fool me;

he is a crook and I am going to catch him.

I'm so sleepy. Good-night,

MADGE.

Dear Daddy:

I'm so thrilled. When we were playing golf yes-

terday, an aeroplane fell down right in front of us.

The motor had gone dead and of course the plane

crashed to the ground but fortunately the man was

not hurt. He is very handsome and it turned out

to be Jack Langley. He is just an ace from the war

who is working on an aeroplane invention. He's

very gentlemanly and Aunt Ella invited him up to-

morrow. The Count stiffened and looked like a

thunder cloud when he saw who the pilot was. I

don't know what was the matter, whether it was be-

cause he didn't like the aviator or not. Will tell

you tomorrow.

MADGE.

Dear Dad:

I've so much to tell you. I was out for a yacht

party yesterday with Jack. The Count was invited,

but he did not come. I wonder why? He seems to

like me, but yet he is so indifferent--not that I care,

except to catch him with the jewels.

Anyway Jack told me yesterday that he was a

French secret service man. He used to know the

Count in Paris. He said Don wasn't a Count then

at all, and also said that he (Jack) was over here to

trace the jewels and catch the thief. I told him my

suspicions of the Count, and he is going to watch

him. He said he would let me help him if anything

new came up. He is very nice and so attractive. I

will write again soon.

Love,

MADGE.

Dearest Pere:

That is not a new kind of fruit--that is the French

word for "Dad."

It has been over a week since I've written any-

thing but telegrams. I was so glad when I got your

night letter but you shouldn't say so much when

you pay by the word. I will be a miser before very

long if I keep on getting economical.

Things are going slowly. There is something do-

ing every minute but I haven't found the jewels yet.

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Bulletin

The Count has been out of town for a week and if

it wasn't so absurd, I'd think that I missed him. He

is so insipid, and as I have found him out, he is a

crook. Jack says he hopes to have him cornered in

a week. I am so excited.

Yours in suspense,

MADGE.

Dear Daddy:

I just happened to think of what Grandma used

to call you. Do you remember? Well! it was Jum-

bo. She said she called you that because you liked

peanuts so well.

Don got back last week. He is the Count, as you

already know. I'm letting him see me lots because

I want to find out all I can for Jack. It doesn't

seem to be working very well. He's charming until

I talk about the jewels and then he immediately be-

gins conversing on another subject, although I'm

going to see if he will tell me. Will write later.

Love,

MADGE.

Daddy Dear:

I'm so unhappy. Today Jack told me to keep Don

out until he had a chance to search his bags. I took

him out into the garden and it was certainly a won-

derful night. Don seemed terribly worried about

something, so I asked him what the matter was.

For just a minute he forgot himself and started to

tell me but immediately put on his mask and went

back into the house. Daddy, I know he was going

to tell me that he liked me just a little. I read it

in his eyes and the better point is that I want him

to love me. I have only known him a month, yet

I'm desperately near loving him--an effeminate

crook.

Love,

YOUR HEART-BROKEN MADGE.

P.S. There is something that seems strangely

familiar about Don's eyes.

Dear Dad:

I'm so excited. It is all over--the mystery I mean.

I will try to tell you just how it happened. Wed-

nesday night, Jack didn't get all through searching

Don's room so he told me to keep him out again last

night. We went out in the park. I guess I do be-

lieve in Romancing and Fate, after all, Dad, because

a man attacked Don in the wooded part of the park.

Did I tell you he was effeminate? You should have

seen him put that man down. Jack Dempsey better

look out for his title. Don tied the man's hand with

a handkerchief and made him walk into the keeper's

lodge, that happened to be near, and locked him in.

When he came back to me I was ready to faint. I

knew then more than anything else that he was safe

so I just started to cry. (No! I'm not ashamed of

myself because I couldn't help it). Then Don told

me that he loved me but couldn't tell me anything

about himself. He asked me if I could trust him.

Somehow I knew then, that he was all right. I told

him about Jack. He turned as white as a sheet and

he asked me if I was still his brave little woman.

As if I wouldn't pick sponges off the ocean's bottom

after he had said that.

To make a long story short. He gave me a note

to take to police headquarters as fast as I could

drive his car--and that was rather hurriedly. When

I gave it to the chief he called his squad together

and went out to the house.

You should have been here then, Dad, it was great.

They were all stationed at different places but the

chief and he went in the house with me on his trail

as close as Eliza's bloodhounds. The very first thing

we saw was Don with Jack tied to a chair looking

into a revolver.

Then they blew a whistle and the men outside

brought in three more. Dad, what do you think?

Jack is the thief himself and Don caught him.

They made me go to bed immediately because it

was late and I was so excited. Anyway, I saw them

take Jack and his confederates to jail.

Don is going to tell me all about it tomorrow. I'm

glad I trusted him.

Your sleepy but happy MADGE.

P.S. The mustache is false.

Dear Dad:

It's a lovely morning. I'm ready to go to lunch

but it isn't quite time so I will tell you all about the

mystery.

Jack is an ex-convict from France. A Russian

hired him to steal the jewels and he was to meet

him here with them. His plane crashed and gave

him an entrance into society with a little mystery to

hide his real mission.

Don is an American Secret Service officer who was

put on the case by the French and American Gov-

ernments. He knew who Jack was but was waiting

to get him with his superior and his jewels. He had

proof that Jack had the jewels and that is what Jack

wanted in Don's room. They have Jack, the man

who hired him, the proof, and also the jewels. Don

has had a great raise and much honor. I'm so proud

of him.

Remember I said his eyes were familiar? Dad,

do you remember the Montagnes that lived on the

next ranch to us in Texas? The boy that I played

with until I went East to school? That boy is Don.

His real name is Donald Montagne. And, Dad, can't

you leave Wall Street long enough to come out next

week-end? Don will want to ask you something,

although I don't know what it is.

Yours blissfully,

MADGE.

--HELEN HITESHEW, '22.

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Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 53)

[page 53]

[corresponds to page 51 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

Bulletin

Paula

Last summer I had my first glimpse of community

life, and I found it quite enlightening. I was at a

camp in Vermont at the time, where were gathered

girls of all types and descriptions, from every part

of the United States. There was the petted mother's

darling who was so trying just about bed-time when

she was in the habit of being rocked to sleep. There

were tomboy terrors and the peevish, ill-tempered

ones, with a liberal sprinkling of winsome, happy-

hearted little lassies who were like lumps of sugar

in sour apple-sauce--quite a relief. And last, there

was Paula.

Paula was a wee mite of a seven-year-old with a

large imagination, which was partly a gift of nature

and partly the result of many hours spent listening

to stories or pouring over volumes of fairy tales and

mythes. This imagination, however, was of an airy

nature which held no room for material things, and

which, if she had been older, would have gained for

her the epithet of dreamer. Her very expression

was unpre-possessing at the outset. She was in

the habit of contorting her small, deep-set eyes and

full wide mouth into the most monkey-like expres-

sions that I have ever beheld on a human counten-

ance. Moreover, in her dress, she was the constern-

ation of those who had her in charge. Her stock-

ings were continually coming down; her middy was

invariably unpinned at the throat; while her tie was

often missing altogether; there seemed to be no

means in the whole camp by which her bloomers

could be kept above her knees; in short, Paula was

not one to be bothered by her appearance.

Alien as it may appear to this utter disregard of

neatness, the child had a passion for dressing up,

and "make believe" was a favorite pastime which

whiled away not only much of her play time, but

even much of the time when she was apparently en-

gaged in other occupations. From remembered tales,

still fresh in mind, or by her art of mental pictur-

ing, she could at any moment evoke characters or

situations to suit her taste. At dinner one noon

she seemed absorbed in her own thoughts for fully

fifteen minutes. Suddenly she broke her silence

with,

"O, Mrs. Blackburn, won't you please put on my

shoes, I've been wading long enough, I think."

Mrs. Blackburn, by this time somewhat accus-

tomed to Paula's eccentricities, did as she was re-

quested, meanwhile questioning the child about her

queer statement. It seems she had tired of the table

conversation, and to while away the time had imag-

ined herself in wading in a "silvery brook that

sparkled on the pebbles," to use her own words.

She continued, "Mother lets me wade if I take off

my shoes."

It was one of these flights of imagination that

insured and strengthened a warm friendship be-

tween the child and me. One evening shortly be-

fore taps I ascended the hill just behind our shack,

intending to lie in the hammock and read until dark.

On reaching the summit my attention was called by

Paula's tentmates who came scrambling up the hill

in their pajamas crying at the top of their voices:

"O, Miss R--, do come down and tell Paula there

isn't a ghost in the tent."

Upon going down to investigate, I found that

Paula's tent councillor had been detained and the

child was possessed with the idea that there was a

ghost in the tent, nearer which she refused to come

than a tree perhaps twenty-five feet away. From

that outpost of safety, she would make sudden dash-

es back into the woods. On one of her frightened

flights, I caught her and managed to keep her still.

I hoped to divert her mind by asking what she liked

to do.

"Well," she said. "I like to read best."

"What kind of books do you like " I suggested.

"O, those about fairy people and goblins and

ghosts and animals and--things." The last men-

tioned was added rather absently. For some mo-

ments she lay back in my arms silently thinking.

Then she broke out,

"Happy (that was what the children called their

councillor) tells us lovely ghost stories. Will you

tell us one?"

Seizing my chance, I answered:

"Paula, I'll tell you a story if you will promise to

go back in your tent and go to bed."

Much to my surprise she acquiesed. The other

children followed a little behind, unwilling as yet

to trust themselves nearer the tent. I thought the

incident was closed, but no. Again Paula's voice

held me.

"There he is, I see him; he's caught behind the

shelves. He can't get out."

On being told that there was nothing there, she

explained, "O yes he is. You can't see him though.

He looks just like the tent flap. All I can see is his

teeth. He can bite like anything, too. I knew a

girl once who was bitten by a ghost. It hurt just

awfully."

Thinking she had gone far enough in her imagin-

ings, and not daring to think what wild thing she

would say next, I put her on her bed and told her

to be quiet while I told her a story. When I finally

left, she was just about asleep and I stole out with-

out disturbing her.

As I was thinking about the incident the next day,

I could not help marveling at the wonderful talent

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[corresponds to page 52 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

Bulletin

the child possessed and picturing to myself the use

she might put it to in later life. At the same time,

a horror of what might become of the child if this

talent were misued filled me with a sense of fore-

boding. Many times have I pondered over this since

I returned home, but the picture which oftenest

comes to my mind is that of Paula, unconscious of

self, listening to a story told at a camp-fire gather-

ing, or herself acting out her own fanciful imag-

inings. --CHARLOTTE RICE, '22.

Home Seekers' Vision

A burning summer sun had beaten down upon the

prairie for days. Furnace-like, the south winds

come racing out of the pulsing haze at the far hori-

zon. The sky seemed of copper and the floor-like

plain's once emerald disk was tinged by the heat

with grayish brown.

One object broke the monotony of the scene,--a

white-covered wagon, its flapping canvas-top giving

scant shelter to the emigrant and his wife crouch-

ed within Their journey had been long,--seemingly

endless to the fever-stricken woman.

Suddenly the man looked up, startled. Their

search for a home was over.

"See!" he cried out in joy.

They had come out on the edge of a wide-reaching

valley. Lines of dense-leaved, billowy forest, bent

and swayed in the gentle breeze. A lake with her

and there a touch of foam to relieve the sparkling

blue of the waves restlessly tossed and wrinkled

its waters. Broad meadows suggesting clover and

golden-rod were near by, and the waving of the

grass was like that of the lake. Yonder, along the

beach, the travelers caught a glimpse of dwellings

--beautiful homes whose splendor seemed to dazzle

their eyes.

"See!" called out again the glad husband, his

strong arm lifting the fainting wife that she might

get a better view.

The burdens of the past had been very great. In

the fierce race of life they had been left far behind;

but now the journey over, the thinly grassed prairie

was nearly ended--the haven was in sight. They

could almost taste the fruits of the trees and catch

a scent of the clover.

Hungrily, earnestly they feasted their eyes as they

gazed through the opening in the flapping canvas.

A passing cloud drifted suddenly before the sun. A

cry of pain and disappointment surged to the wo-

man's lips as she saw again a dreary length of plain

whose level lines had so long fatigued her eyes.

The torrid wind found not a leaf to stir. She fell

back on her heated pillow.

The mirage had lifted. The emigrant was alone

on the prairie with his dead.

--MILDRED McNETT, '23.

Sentimental Value

Everyone who is capable of deep feeling has in

his possession some object which has no intrinsic

value whatever but which he would not sell for any

money. Or, perhaps the article which he prizes most

is of no use to him although it would command a

price if offered for sale. The things which bind

this worthless object so closely to his life are the

heart-strings themselves, which are caused to vi-

brate with new life whenever the beloved article is

presented to his sight. Perhaps it is a pressed flow-

er, a handkerchief, an old school book, or a worn-

out garment which never fails to revive the old sen-

sations and dear memories that make life newer and

happier.

Perhaps we have never stopped to consider what

a great factor sentiment, or even sentimentality, is

in our lives. Some people are proud of the fact that

they are called sentimental; others are ashamed of

its. There is really no more excuse for either feeling

than there is for being proud or ashamed of eating

or breathing. Sentiment is a part of life itself. The

past, present, and future are bound together by it;

life is given unity by the sentimental regard we have

for persons, circumstances, and things.

Who among you has never, in the innocent idol-

atry of youth, idealized some person who has after-

wards proven entirely unworthy of your worship?

But even after he has been shown to have feet of

clay, will the sight of the athlete who was your idol

to Apollo, the teacher whom you regarded as Wis-

dom incarnate, the girl who seemed an unparalleled

example of tenderness and unselfishness, or the min-

ister who appeared as a paragon of all virtue, ever

fail to revive old emotions and sobering memories

which make your life better for having once cher-

ished those ideals? Even though much bitterness

was caused by the disillusionment you suffered, has

not a new tenderness been added to your under-

standing by the deep experience?

To anyone, then, who has ever felt the thrill of a

happy experience, the inspiration of a wonderful

discovery, or the pain of a broken idol, sentimental

value is an inseparable element of life; and all the

harshness of struggle, the discouragement of disap-

pointment and the unsympathetic attitudes of men

cannot mar the memories his treasures of sentiment

recall. --MIRIAM STAFFORD, '23.

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Bulletin

Forceful Magic

Jack Wellington was an ordinary young man in

many ways, but had turned special attention toward

the age-old art which sometimes instructs, often

amuses, and always entertains.

His big night was at hand--the night which would

either make him or break him. True, the young

magician had given numberless performances for his

friends, and even entertained in one of the small

theaters of his city; but tonight he was to present

hs [sic] performance before an immense crowd of Chi-

cago theater-goers. It was to be a charity benefit;

so the audience would be composed of two classes:

one made up of those who were ever ready to make

allowances for an inexperienced actor, while the

other class was composed of those who sit stiffly

in their places and seem to say, "Well, we're used to

seeing all kinds of players and we know a good show

from a bad one. We make no allowances and ex-

pect the best for our money."

Now this latter class was enough to discourage

any young fellow; but had not Jack spent weeks in

preparation? Had he not put special stress upon

his "patter" in order to overcome all difficulties

along that line and to render a performance with-

out room for criticism? This tended to add encour-

agement, but Jack could not help being a little ner-

vous before the curtain went up.

The orchestra was playing the opening number!

In a moment he would face a sea of faces! The

great curtain slowly ascended and with it rose his

courage. He was, at once, the same cool-headed

Jack Wellington who had practiced his entertain-

ment without error.

The orchestra broke into the closing strains of

"The Stars and Stripes Forever" following the pro-

duction of a large American flag on a rigid staff.

The audience began to sit up and take notice. Per-

haps, after all, this show might prove of interest.

Jack launched into the performance with perfect

ease. He pulled rabbits from unsuspecting gentle-

men's coats, effected the production of bowls of gold-

fish, caught live pigeons from the air, and caused

cards to assume animated life. The vanishing of a

young lady from a suspended cabinet, and her in-

stantaneous appearance at the rear of one of the

theater aisles brought thunders of applause. In fact,

everything went along splendidly until, nearing the

close of the first act, a spectator publicly challenged

the wizard to hypnotize him.

Now Jack Wellington might easily have eluded this

challenge by saying that he had had no experience

along mesmeristic lines and would be unable to do

as the spectator requested, but Jack never thought

of such an easy way out. The show had been run-

ning so smoothly that he was literally taken off his

feet by such a public challenge. He vaguely remem-

bered promising to do as the man asked but suggest-

ed postponing the demonstration until the next act,

in which he was going to demonstrate mind-reading.

This was agreeable to the spectator, who gloried in

Jack's uneasiness.

The remainder of Act One went off more or less

mechanically, and when the curtain had descended,

he was met by an excited brother and assistant.

"You sure are in a deuce of a mess now, Jack!

Why you've never had a lesson! You can't hypnotize

anyone--"

"Now just can that stuff, Tom," interrupted his

brother, "I know it as well as you, but this is no

time to lose our heads. Something's bound to turn

up and, anyway, I may be able to bluff my way

through. I think I know the principles."

Saying this, Jack hurried away to his dressing

room, leaving Tom to look after all preparations for

the next act and supervise the change of scenes.

In three minutes the apparatus of the preceding

act was cleared away. A plain, yet attractive, set-

ting stood in its place. This was to serve as scenery

for the mind-reading demonstration--an act care-

fully practiced and one which had promised success

in the largest sense of the word, but which was now

extremely doubtful in the hands of the nervous

Jack.

The young performer had decided to attempt the

hypnotizing stunt first, leaving the remainder of the

act until later, so that he might possibly overcome

his inevitable failure with the more certain "Mir-

acle Mind Reading," as it was advertised.

The low, steady beat of a tom tom announced

the beginning of the second act and was followed

by the weird strains of "The Shiek." Jack, arrayed

in an Arabic costume, stepped to the footlights as

the curtain rose. His voice was clearly audible al-

though he felt as if his heart were in his mouth.

He requested the subject's presence on the stage

and, when this request was complied with, began to

walk the man backwards, going through meaning-

less motions with his hands in front of the man's

face. Every moment Jack felt worse. These impos-

sible motions could not go on. Already the audience

was sensing the bluff. Was so brilliant a perform-

ance to be sacrificed now? It seemed inevitable.

Suddenly the man's eyes closed! he sank in silence

to the floor! Was this a dream? Jack Wellington

was completely bewildered but knew that he must

retain his composure, so he managed to turn and

bow to the suprised audience. The curtain de-

scended for a second, while the subject was removed.

A very jubilant and self-satisfied Jack Wellington

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[corresponds to page 54 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

Bulletin

resumed the act and carried it off with almost un-

believable skill. All through the performance the

thought was uppermost in his mind that he had actu-

ally put the man to sleep! Surely he must be gifted

with unknown powers!

At length, the final encore was over and Jack was

met by enthusiastic friends. Nothing gave him more

surprise than to learn that the man whom he had

hypnotized had challenged him on a bet which the

man had made with one of Jack's friends. This

friend, as Tom remarked, must have had a tremen-

dous amount of faith in Jack's ability.

On the following morning, the young entertainer

was awakened to see an account of his success in

the "Tribune" staring him in the face. Tom held the

paper before the approving eyes of his brother.

"Jack," he said, "did you ever see a better write-

up? Why, people all over the city know of this,

and from what I can gather, the mesmeristic stunt

got off best of anything!"

"I'll agree with you," chimed in Jack, "Hot dog!

I guess I'm some hypnotist! It's a mystery to me,

though, why I never discovered my abilities before."

A look of disapproval spread over Tom's face.

"Look here, Jack, you hate yourself too doggoned

much for any use, so I'm going to put you wise to

something I'd intended to keep to myself. Wait a

minute."

With this, Tom left the room returning a moment

later with a hammer.

"Say, Jack, did you ever see this hammer before?"

"Sure did," said his brother; "It's the one we used

in setting up some of the stuff last evening."

"Well," continued Tom, "do you recall the mo-

ment last night when you accidentally backed your

subject against the back-drop? This hammer," add-

ed Tom, "has more magic in it than you think. Last

evening, when I observed the outline of the honor-

able gent's ivory dome against the back-drop, I just

couldn't resist the temptation of giving him a light

tap on the head. I really hadn't intended to tell you,

but since you've assumed such a self-satisfied atti-

tude over your apparent success--"

"Tom," broke in a pride-shaken brother. "You're

the kind of brother and assistant to have!"

Now, although Jack Wellington's pride was wound-

ed momentarily, he was not the sort of fellow to miss

a good joke even at his own expense, so he smiled

as he shook his younger brother's hand and said,

"I may be able to pass as a fair magician, but as a

hypnotist--well, as a hypnotist, I'm afraid I'd be

obliged to resort to your more effective method of

forceful magic."

--BEVERLY KELLEY, '24.

Short One

"Don't you feel any better, Jane?" Cora Jennings

said to her sister, who was still in bed at the late

hour of eight on the day they had planned to leave

for New York.

"Oh, dear, don't worry, I'm sure I'll be all right;

I'm just fighting off a miserable cold."

"Don't you want something to eat? Maybe that

would make you feel better."

"Oh, I don't know what I want; I want to go. We

have planned this little trip for so long, and now we

even have our reservations, and I am going to spoil

all our fun. Oh dear, it's such a splendid day, and

besides we are almost packed."

"Now look here, Jane, you just forget about spoil-

ing our fun and get that ache out of your system.

You lie right still there in bed and don't you move

an inch out of it until I tell you you can. I'll finish

doing what few things are to be done." She started

to leave and Jane called to her,

"Well, Cora, you might bring me a little bite to

eat, if you're not going to let me get it for myself."

Cora left the room, soon returning with a tray of

steaming coffee and hot rolls. Scarcely had Jane

finished her slight meal when some one called from

the bottom of the stairs, "Jane! Cora!"

Who could it be? Aunt Luella from Uniontown

was the only one they knew of who always walked

right in, but she always told them she was coming.

Presently the call came up the stairway again, a lit-

tle louder this time, "Jane! Cora!"

"Oh, it's Mrs. B-- coming over to find out all she

can to spread over the town," said Cora.

She hurried to the top of the stairs and looked

down. Sure enough it was she, standing in her neat

morning dress, her inquisitive face turned upwards.

"I just ran over to see if you really were going,

and if there wasn't something I could do," she said.

The truth of the matter, as the girls both knew,

was that she just couldn't keep away; she wanted

to know all their plans and didn't know how to find

them out without having some excuse to come over;

that done, perhaps she might finally question the

information out of them if she managed well. Of

course she came directly up the stairs, not waiting

to be asked, and found Jane in bed.

"Oh, you can't go, can you?" she said as she turn-

ed to Cora--"Oh, what a shame! I suppose you had

all your plans made?" She looked rather question-

ingly at the girls, but Jane hearing this comforting

query rolled over, heaving a faint sigh, and gave

Cora a look not to tell. Cora understood.

"I'll tell you what you ought to have," Mrs. B--

continued; "some whiskey mixed with a little hot

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water. That would fix you up in a jiffy. If you

haven't any I'll go right home and get you some.

I'll bring enough so that you'll have some to put in

your suitcase, and I know if you take some now

you'll be able to go." She said this and hurried home

for the potion not waiting to see if they had any, for

she was certain the Jenningses would hesitate a lit-

tle at having such a thing around.

She returned shortly with her bottle, and after

seeing that Jane had taken a dose, went back home.

After Mrs. B-- had left, Jane fell asleep and Cora

finished packing, locked the windows, drew some of

the shutters, and left only a few things undone that

had to be finished at the last minute. When Jane

awoke, she felt so much better that they decided

to go.

Finding no chance acquaintance on the train they sat

and discussed every one back home from the grocery

man to the president of the club, and when for the

second time they had got back to Mrs. B-- Jane be-

gan to feel bad again. Her berth was made up at

once, and after much uneasiness she went to sleep

only to be awakened by the man in the next berth,

who was snoring most atrociously. She felt no bet-

ter; in fact, she felt worse. After doing everything

she could think of, Cora finally resorted to the whis-

key. She went to the dressing room to prepare the

draught, and on returning thought she knew her

berth, but missed it by one.

The occupant, who was none other than the afore-

said snorer, was now deeply buried in peaceful slum-

bers. Cora was standing over him, her hand on his

pillow before she discovered he was not her sister;

then in her fright and confusion she spilled the hot

whiskey on him. He immediately awoke, and grab-

bed her by the wrists, thinking she was trying to get

his watch and money from under his pillow. Her

eyes were burning with shame and horror, for you

must remember she was very aristocratic and pre-

cise, and was very much abashed by such a mishap;

her face was flushed and her mind all in confusion,

herself very nervous and quaky. To think that she,

Cora Jennings, had mistaken the berth of a man un-

known to her even by name for that of her sister.

And too, how terrible! She had accidentally spilled

the whiskey on him! What if it should be printed

in the papers? What would her friends back home

in Cincinnati think when they read it? Oh, horrors!

While all this was nunning through her bemuddled

brain, the man was sitting up in bed muttering in-

coherent threats, and holding on to her wrists with

such a grip that when she finally pulled herself

away, they felt as if they had just been released from

the stocks. She ran into her own berth breathless,

pale, and excited. The patient, hearing the commo-

tion and forgetting all about her pains, drew Cora

up close to her, and in frantic whispers, amid chok-

ing tears of shame and nervous laughs, tried to

soothe her panicky sister. Meanwhile, the irate

neighbor got out as fast as he could to the colored

porter, who was sitting dozing in a chair at the rear

of the sleeper.

"There is some one in this car that is trying to

rob me!" he exclaimed.

"Oh, Boss, yo dunno wat yo' is talkin' about. They

ain't no sech thing; for ef thar was Ah'd of seen

'em, Ah guess."

"Well I guess if you swa some one standing next

to your bed with her hand on your pillow ready to

grab your watch from under it, you would know it."

"Aw, shoot, Boss, yo' is drunk; that's what yo' is.

Aw can smell it on yo' right now. Get yo' on back

there to bed and stop makin' this here disturbance

in this car, or I'll have yo' put off at the nex' stop.

Yo' dunno wat yo' is sayin'. Youse drunk; that's wat

yo' is. G'wan back to yo' berth."

But the man was certain of what he said, and was

certain, too, that he was not drunk; so stayed right

where he was.

The porter called the conductor, and explained the

difficulty. The conductor was also convinced of the

man's drunkenness, being able, like the porter, to

smell the liquor on him.

Then ensued the angry protestations of the out-

raged traveling man. He was put off at the next

stop, and to this day no one knows that he was not

drunk, nor does any one know how Jane Jennings's

threatening cold was cured with whiskey toddy.

--FRANCES NAYLOR, '22.

Danny Peters' Inheritance

It was a sultry midsummer afternoon that settled

itself upon the small group of tumble down shacks,

graced by the presence of a combined general store

and saloon, and endowed by its founders with the

simple yet very appropriate cognomen of "Peace."

This interesting little bozanza town, like so many

others on the Western prairie, had gradually sprung

up since the days of the forty-niners, until now it

boasted of a population a little in excess of one hun-

dred souls.

On this particular afternoon the center of inter-

est, as usual, revolved about the pouch of the gen-

eral store, where several of the town characters and

idlers sat about, some smoking, others dozing, and,

when the spirit moved them, swapping experiences.

At the time when our story opens, old Jerry Pratt,

historian of the place, and an inveterate story tell-

er, had just disposed of his companionable quid and

was about to relate an anecdote bearing on his fa-

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vorite topic--the days when he was young.

"Did any of this bunch ever hear the straight of

how Crazy Horse got his first taste o' fire water?"

inquired the oldest inhabitant in a reminiscent mood.

No one replied, and taking it for granted that he

would not be interrupted, Jerry cleared his throat

and began.

Just at this point the conversation was interrupt-

ed by a shot issuing from the saloon, and a moment

later, out burst a roughly dressed individual with a

white scar on his left cheek, who vaulted to his

pony's back and was off. After him came Tim, the

bartender, flourishing a cork-screw and shouting:

"Sthop him, I say, he ain't paid for his drink.

The blitherin' idot tried to puncture me, but thank

Hiven, the lookin' glass is all that's busted."

To catch the fellow then, however, was impossible.

for the only witness to his hasty flight was a ris-

ing pyramid of alkali dust far down the road.

"I know that man," vouchsafed "Slim" Henderson,

Deputy Sheriff. "Joe, don't you remember 'Stick-

up' Jim Ramsey, who tried to lay a claim to Sam

Peter's land by fake papers, about two years ago?

The varmint skipped out 'a town quite sudden, af-

ter a little tussle with Sam, but he swore revenge

afore he pulled up stakes. I'd know that gent any-

where by that pretty looking scar he carries around.

Let me tell you there'll be trouble brewing afore

long with such a reptile loose around here."

Rising, "Slim" yawned, stretched himself, and

drawled, "I'll just go over and have a little chat

with the Sheriff about this. It won't do any harm

to keep a watch out for this fellow's whereabouts."

Jerry was first to speak after Henderson's depar-

ture. "This here country sure is going to the dogs.

Why a decent feller can't live secure any more."

Suddenly a cloud of dust appeared on the road

opposite that just taken by the man known familiar-

ly as "Stickup." From the rapidity of approach,

the onlookers conjectured that whoever it might be,

had something of real importance on hand. The ob-

scuring dust lifted, little by little, disclosing a horse,

whose rider hung low over the saddle, urging the

steed to greater effort.

"I'm willin' to wager that's Danny, Sam Peters'

boy. But what can he be in such a rush about?"

queried "Spooks" Slade, district mail carrier. Their

anxiety was soon set at rest, for Danny, a red-head-

ed, capable looking boy of sixteen, who was an es-

pecial favorite with all the residents of Peace,

swung off his horse, and scarcely waiting to catch

breath, exclaimed, "Dad's struck it rich at last, boys,

after all these hard years of plugging. It's over

along the foot of the Sawtooth somewhere; I didn't

stop long enough to find out. And,--oh, yes, I near-

ly forgot,--Dad wants a whole new prospecting out-

fit, too." After such a long speech--for Danny--he

lapsed into silence.

Joe Cameron voiced the feelings of all when he

said, "You bet we're all for you, son. I just felt in

my bones that Sam was about due for a little change

in luck."

It did not take Danny long to secure the needed

equipment, and with the well-wishes of all ringing

in his ears, he set out for home. Just at dusk he

rode in, and found Pedro Mendez, the Mexican hired

man, standing ready to help him unload. The man's

teeth shone white against a brown skin, as their

eyes met, but there was little of humor in the smile.

It was a smirk that lingered artificially. The fel-

low was rather uncommunicative, but conveyed the

information that Mr. Peters had been very restless

during his absence, and had asked to see him as soon

as he got back.

As they were talking, the Sheriff, Mr. Long, af-

fectionately known as "Shorty," rode up. He had

just heard of Mr. Peter's good fortune, and know-

ing that Danny's father must be anxious to stake

his claim as soon as possible, had ridden up with

the ownership papers. The conversation between

the Sheriff and Sam Peters chiefly concerned the

latter's new find, but when Long mentioned that

Ramsey was in the neighborhood, Pedro's eyes

lighted up with an unaccustomed glow.

After supper, Mr. Peters drew a rough chart of

the strike, explaining it all to Danny as he went

along. If the two had only known they were being

watched by Pedro, who had crept beneath the un-

curtained kitchen window where he could distinctly

hear all that was said, and occasionally risk a

glance within, things might have been different. As

it was they were so engrossed in study of the map,

that Pedro found it easy to slip away, after he was

sure that Mr. Peters had secured the chart in his

boot for safekeeping.

When once out of danger of discovery, Mendez

slipped out behind the wagon shed, and whistled

low three times. An answering whistle came back

to him, and soon a figure appeared out of the

darkness.

"Is that you, 'Hoot'?" Pedro whispered.

"Yep, and I reckon I'm on time too, Mex," said

the man. "Anything new on tap?"

"Si, Senor, and something important. Tell Gorgas

that to-morrow, Mr. Peters rides past Black Hills.

He goes to stake a new claim. He will be alone;

wait your chance and then strike. Saavy? There

will be a map of the strike hidden in his boot."

"Looks like easy pickin', gringo. When will you

join us?" asked "Hoot."

"Pronto, hombre," replied Mendez. "How many

are in the gang, senor?"

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"Just five. Gorgas says that he won't have a whole

raft of men around, like he did two years ago. 'Mem-

ber how we all skidooed when Long caught us red

handed a rustlin' them cattle. I ain't forgot that

day yet. Well, I spose you're wantin' to know who's

back. There's 'Dusty' Phillips and 'Smilin' Jack'

Wilson, besides myself. Who d'ye think blew in

last night? Why, Ramsey. He's been layin' low for

a while, but he said it warn't in him to keep away

with the old gang workin' again. I guess I' orter

light out. Boss told me to hoof it right back.

S'long."

"Adios," was Pedro's rejoinder. He listened un-

til he heard the dull thud of a horse's hoofs speed-

ing off across the mesa. Then turning, he sought

his lodgings above the stable to plan for the mor-

row. Next morning at dawn, Mr. Peters set out

on his way with a happy heart.

Danny, for some unaccountable reason was ap-

prehensive of his father's going, but he was almost

afraid to voice his fear. The feeling remained up-

permost in his mind all forenoon, although he tried

in vain, by working, to drive it away.

Soon after lunch he caught a glimpse of his fath-

er's horse "Star," coming riderless over the plain

at a terrific gallop, and his worst alarms were real-

ized. Moreover, from the blood stains on the saddle,

he knew there had been a fight, and that his father

needed him badly. He attempted to find Mendez,

but the Mexican had discreetly fled. Quickly mount-

ing, the boy started out, scanning the sage brush

dotted plan far ahead, for the sight which he so

dreaded to see, yet momentarily expected.

About mid afternoon near Coyote Pass, he found

his father by the side of the road, nearly dead. A

smile came over his face as Danny bent down over

him and he said,

"I knew you'd be here, but there's no use trying

to help me, son, I'm done for. A pack of bunco men

rode up at me out of that coulee, 'afore I could put

up a scrap, and plugged me full of lead. It's the

same bunch that hung out in these parts 'afore the

Sheriff got busy. Jim Ramsey was one of 'em, son.

He's always had it in for me since I gave him a

lickin', a couple of years ago. Thank God, I didn't

bring that chart along. It's home under the floor

in the southwest corner of the kitchen. Don't let

'em get it, son."

Mr. Peters could scarcely speak above a whisper,

but it was clear that there was something else he

wanted to say.

"Danny, you've been a good boy, and I hope you'll

be a better man than your dad has been. I always

tried to do my duty by you, just like Mary made me

promise, afore she died. My one possession is this

claim, the only inheritance I can leave you. Take

it, and may God protect you, my boy."

He tried to speak again but the effort proved too

much. Sam Peters had passed to the Great Beyond.

Broken hearted, Danny dug a shallow grave, and

placed a rude cross at the head; standing for a mo-

mont, bareheaded, the forlorn figure of a boy who

has just lost his best friend. Then mounting his

horse, the grief-stricken lad turned homeward as

the last rays of the setting sun gilded the far off

jagged peaks of the Sawtooth; and one by one, the

stars came out, casting their steely blue glitter over

the earth.

A day or so later Danny was seated on the top-

most rail of the corral, wondering as to just what

the future would bring, when suddenly his reverie

was rudely cut short by the swish of a lariat whose

horsehair noose settled about his shoulders, jerking

him violently backwards. So stunned was he at

this unexpected happening that he had no chance

to resist, and when he could think clearly again he

found himself bound, and being carried on the shoul-

ders of two men. Where could they be taking him?

Any doubts he had were quickly dispelled, for

they soon arrived at an old, unused well, some dis-

tance from the road. Setting down their burden,

the men commenced to taunt Danny. At last wehn

they tired of this, the two lowered him into the

deep, dark pit, and then went on to rejoin their

companions.

Danny lay still for a long time, trying to make

himself believe it was all a dream; but suddenly he

realized the grim reality of it, and strove with all

his might to tear the restraining cords loose. Then

he attempted to shout, but soon saw the utter futil-

ity of this, for he heard only the empty echoes. Hav-

ing given up all hope of rescue, he lay quietly trying

to rack his brains for a way of escape, when sud-

denly in the little circle of light above, appeared one

of the most welcome sights Danny had ever seen.

It was the smiling, freckled face of "Spooks" Slade.

"Hello there, Dan, I didn't dare come near till

just now. Saw the two of 'em sneaking in behind

ya, just as I got to the top of the hill, so I ducked

into the brush, and watched proceedings. I'll say

they took ya off the fence pretty neat. They've just

flew the coop. Took your Dad's prospecting outfit,

too. Just you lay still; I'll lower a rope down right

off."

As soon as Danny stood above ground again, they

decided that no time must be lost in getting to Peace,

where the Sheriff could be consulted.

They arrived there in quick time, and Long pro-

posed that the pursuit start as soon as possible.

They agreed, and six trusty men having been chosen,

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the chase started in earnest. Although "Shorty"

thought it unwise for Danny to go along, he finally

gave in, when he realized that they boy was the only

one who knew the trail the claim jumpers had tak-

en, since Mendez had secured the map before start-

ing.

It was early evening when far ahead on a stretch

of level mesa, the pursuers saw the glow of a camp

fire. Assured that Gorgas's band had no intimation

of their nearness,--for this country was one little

traveled,--the men decided to camp right where

they were, in a little valley. "Tiny" Maxwell, Long's

right hand man, was sent out to reconnoitre. He

returned with the news that there were only six

men in Gorgas's gang, and as far as he could see,

no guard had been posted, so secure did they feel.

He also discerned that whiskey was being used

freely by all.

Immediately a council was called, and the plans

for the capture of the unsuspecting bandits worked

out. It was decided that early next morning, they

should quietly surround the camp, while all were

deep in a drunken sleep, and have them under ar-

rest before they were fully awake. One man was

then posted as guard, and the rest left. Danny,

however, was very restless. Finally, unable to stand

it any longer, he went to the Sheriff and told him

he could not feel secure until he had set up the

claim with his own hand. He was determined on

starting out as soon as possible, and "Shorty" prom-

ised him that as soon as the morning's work had

been attended to, he would let him have two men to

go along.

Just as the first glimmer of dawn appeared, the

posse swooped down upon the bandits, and with very

little commotion, the entire gang was taken into

custody. They proved to be some of the worst char-

acters in the West, and the Sheriff was glad to have

these very men, since they escaped him once be-

fore.

True to his promise, Long gave Danny two men

to act as escort, and after several hours of hard rid-

ing among the rocky foothills of the majestic, snow-

covered Sawtooth range, guided by the boy who

picked the trail by various landmarks, they ap-

proached the narrow gulch in which the precious

deposit was located. All of a sudden, they became

aware of the marks of a horse's hoofs in the soft

earth, and proceeding with infinite caution they

came to the canyon's entrance, and found that some-

one must be within, for the hot ashes of a fire lay

scattered about.

Resolved to take no changes, Danny then instruct-

ed the two men to creep into the valley a little way,

and spy, while he took a circuitous route, worming

his way through the dry creek-bed, to a point where

he could look out upon the floor of the gulch in all

directions.

What the lad saw, not fifteen feet away from him,

was a horse tethered, and on the side of the gently

sloping hill, a rude sign announced that this land

was held by Miguel Gorgas.

Just as he stood there watching, several shots rang

out in quick succession, seeming to come from just

around the bend. Realizing that his two compan-

ions must have been discovered, he slipped down

again, and watching his chance, came up noiseless-

ly behind a natural parapet of boulders, where he

intended to take a look around. Something seemed

to warn him of impending danger, and there, sure

enough, flattened against the stone breastwork lay

a man, intent on drawing a bead on someone. So

busy was he defending his position, that he failed

to notice even Danny's sudden appearance. Quick-

ly the fellow fired, and turned part way 'round to

reload his gun. Danny shrank back, but not before

he had seen the face of "Stickup" Ramsey. Crawl-

iong up a little nearer, though still sufficiently hid-

den, the boy was almost able to touch his man. It

was now or never. Drawing his pistol from its hol-

ster, he placed the cold steel muzzle resolutely

against "Stickup's" neck, at the same time ordering

him to surrender, in no uncertain terms. The ef-

fect was instantaneous. Perhaps more from sur-

prise than fear, the claim-jumper threw up his

hands, and it was but a matter of minutes before

the boy and his companions had him safely fastened

up with a heavy pair of manacles.

The task of setting up a fresh claim was soon ac-

complished, and closely guarded, and the man whose

name had been a cause of terror to all the plains

was marched back in sullen submission.

As for Danny, whose quick thinking had marked

him as a hero, he was the center of all attention,

and his entrance into Peace was rivalled only by

that of a conquering warrior.

For the satisfaction of those who must have every-

thing explained to them, it might be added that Dan-

ly's [sic] inheritance turned out to be one of the richest

finds ever uncovered in that section of the West-

ern country. --WILLIAM BROWN, '22.

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An Indian Sport

In the summer of 1918 I happened to visit my

uncle, who was a civil surgeon, then stationed at

his camp at Atrauli, in the United Provinces of In-

dia. English officials were very infrequent in that

part of the country, and for this reason we became

acquainted with the Rajah, the nominal ruler of

that particular district. During the latter part of

our stay, my uncle and I were invited to be guests

of the dignitary at a celebration to be held for the

purpose of raising money for the Red Cross,--a cel-

ebration in which the main sport was to be wrest-

ling. We accepted the invitation eagerly, for we had

never before seen an Indian wrestling match.

The Rajah called for us that afternoon at three.

On arriving we found that there was a considerable

crowd on the grounds; but everyone made way for

us, and we were soon in our seats. The ground had

been spaded for a space about twenty feet square,

in which the wrestling matches were to take place.

One side was reserved for His Highness and his

retinue; the other three for the public, who throng-

ed and crowded them.

At about three-thirty the matches began. The

first one was between two young men who were

making their first appearance in the ring. As each

stepped out, he was greeted with a cheer from the

men of his village, who had come to see him wrestle.

In an instant they were at it. Since neither of the

wrestlers was very muscular, it was plain that

both depended upon their speed. During the match,

one old man in the front line sat wrapped in the

contest. He was a man of about sixty, who was

lame, and who might have been taken for the grand-

father of one of the wrestlers. His lameness sug-

gested the fact that he himself had probably wrestled

at some time, and was now the young man's coach.

When at last his pupil won the victory, he went wild

with excitement, and the victor rushed to the side-

lines and hugged and wept over his old grandfath-

er, acting much as the Mt. Vernon players did after

the Delaware game. He then shook hands with his

grinning friends, and peeled off a rupee from each

hand he shook, for such was the custom.

The next match was between a well-built and in-

telligent-looking farmer, and a harry, muscular man

who might have claimed relationship to a chimpan-

zee. After each was duly greeted, another match

was on.

From the beginning of this second match, it was

apparent that it was a battle between Brains and

Brawn; but when Brains got a good hold on Brawn,

he was not strong enough to throw him, and Brawn

eventually won by wearing out Brains. Then Brawn,

in his turn, received due congratulations and rupees

from his townspeople, and the next contestants step-

ped into the ring.

One was a man of much the same type as the vic-

tor of the previous match; the other a very self-sat-

isfied looking Hindu Babu. The latter was almost

too fat to look like a wrestler, yet the crowd had

"doped" it out that he would win. By his actions he

conveyed the impression in a very decided way that

he believed in the judgment of the crowd. It took

him about twenty minutes to throw his opponent;

but he had an excuse ready: he had sprained his

wrist, he said, and that was why he did not win

sooner.

This last match ended the regular schedule, but a

bunnia from the North, Dirjon by name, champion

of the United Provinces, was willing to take on any-

body who cared to wrestle with him. For a time no

one seemed very anxious to do so. After a wait, the

Rajah made an announcement to the effect that since

this man had come all the way from Lucknow, it was

a pity he had to go home without having accom-

plished anything. At these words, a tall Mohamme-

dan stepped out of the crowd, and took up the chal-

lenge. The two then went into adjoining tents to

get ready.

Dirjon came out first, and took his corner amid

wild cheers from the spectators. He was a man of

average height, very powerfully built, with rippling

muscles under his smooth brown skin. He started,

after the Indian custom, to warm up, not with some

selections from Walter Camp's Daily Dozen as an

American might, but with an exercise peculiar to

wrestlers of his country,--an exercise which I have

never seen in any other part of the world, and one

which combines all the contortions of the Daily

Dozen in one. As one watched Dirjon's powerful

body going through these motions, one could not

help wondering at the audacity of the lanky Mo-

hammedan who now stepped into his corner.

Not a sound did the crowd utter as the two wrest-

lers took their places. No time was wasted in pre-

liminary feints. Like a flash Dirjon rushed across

the soft ground, and in an instant literally picked

up his opponent and laid him on his back in the dust.

At this the crowd acted exactly as the crowd in the

bleachers acts when Babe Ruth knocks his fifty-

seventh homer; a noise more like a roar than any-

thing else went up and continued for ten minutes

without a stop. The celebration was over, but not a

soul stirred in the arena for at least ten minutes;

after which the crowd moved off slowly, first by

ones, and then faster.

The Rajah then invited us to tea, which had been

prepared on the grounds; and, as we went, we felt

that we had had a pleasant afternoon's entertain-

ment. --JOHN R. BEAL, '22.

59

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 62)

[page 62]

[corresponds to unlabeled page 60 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

Pianos Phonographs and Records

Blair & Company

Delaware's Leading

Furniture House

Our Motto

"QUALITY and LOW PRICES"

Interior Decorations Floor Coverings

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 63)

[page 63]

[corresponds to unlabeled page 61 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

When Hungry

Come to

The Candy Kitchen

Cafeteria

Wholesome Food

Prompt Service

There's the

Pleasure

of giving good candy

and the added pleas-

ure of giving it in

Whitman's

SAMPLER

BUN'S

Prof. Leas: William, what is a dry dock?

Bill T.: A physician who won't give prescrip-

tions.

Cline Jones (with a headache): Will you give

me something for my head?

Druggist: I wouldn't take it as a gift.

Waiter: Milk or water?

Mr. Boyers: Don't tell me, please; let me guess.

Before Exams

O Lord of Hosts, be with us yet,

Lest we forget, lest we forget.

After Exams

The Lord of Hosts was with us not,

For we forgot, for we forgot.

Polly: I think a street car has just passed.

Dot: How do you know

Polly: I can see its tracks.

The D.H.S.

Boys and Girls

Bring their dates to

Vatsure's Confectionery

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 64)

[page 64]

[corresponds to unlabeled page 62 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

Call 2482

Get Prices on Furniture, Rugs, Linoleums, Lace Curtains,

Draperies, Stoves and Ranges

Swickheimer & Noble

Mrs. Naylor (commencing the recitation): Paul,

will you start the ball rolling

Paul B.: I haven't got the ball yet.

(James Warner, reading a thrilling composition

in English III): "The man was awakened by the

sound of heavy foot prints coming towards him."

"Now please don't go out tonight," said Mr. Wor-

line to his wayward furnace.

Mr. Mahon in Economics: Ccan you give an il-

lustration of the difference between rarity and

scarcity?

Fred Wickham: The beauty of some girls is rare,

and of others it is scarce.

Mrs. Naylor in Eng. III): How many of you have

read "To a Field Mouse?"

Scott Radcliffe: I didn't know you could get one

to listen.

JOHN K. FOSTER

WALL PAPER, MOULDING,

PAINTS and VARNISHES

Phone 7423 36 E. Winter St.

Delaware, Ohio

THE

GREAT ATLANTIC AND PACIFIC TEA CO.

5300 Stores

Groceries, Candy, Cakes, Fruit

The Best Service Give us a Trial

60 N. Sandusky Street

WILSON'S

THE HOME OF HART, SCHAFFNER and MARX CLOTHES

Everything for the Young Fellow

THE HOTEL ALLEN BLOCK

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 65)

[page 65]

[corresponds to unlabeled page 63 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

Auto Laundry Co.

Washing and Painting Automobiles

Our Specialty

91 East Winter Street

Phone NO. 7107

PREST-O-LITE

BATTERY SERVICE STATION

Lancaster Tires

VULCANIZING

23 East Winter Street

Phone 7184

We Carry Foods of Value known for

QUALITY PURITY UNIFORMITY

KURRLEY & EVANS

Ruth Drake: I see you don't speak to R-- any-

more.

Mary Louise Kendrick: No, I give him the ge-

ological survey.

Ruth: The geological survey?

Mary Louise: Yes: What is commonly known

as the stony stare.

Autos kill more people than street cars--probably

because the street cars are harder to kill.

Clayton Herriot: What shall we do this evening?

Jack Pleasant: Let's flip a coin. If it comes

heads, we'll go to a show; if it's tails, we'll go to

the game; and if it stands on end, we'll study.

Dorothy: Can't you keep a secret?

Ersel: Yes I can; it's the people I tell it to who

can't.

Those who stop to think get run over.

Delaware Electric

Supply Co.

12 W. William St.

Electrical Appliances

and Contract Work

If it's

Electrical and Good

The Electric Shop

62 N. Sandusky St.

FEEDS AND SEEDS

Quality Goods at right price

Lawn Seed, Lawn Lime and Fertilizers Poultry Supplies of all kinds

Richard O. Guthke

Formerly City Feed Mill

35 S. Sandusky St. Phone 2626

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 66)

[page 66]

[corresponds to unlabeled page 64 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

SEIBERING & SILVERTOWN

CORDS

Canfield-Price Vulcanizing Co.

Phone 4120 77 N. Sandusky St.

A. Emerson Company

Home of the

Home-Made Weiners, Minced Ham

Pressed Ham, Jellied Tongue

WHOLESALE and RETAIL

McGUIRE'S NEWS SHOP

All the Latest Magazines and Daily Newspapers

CIGARS TO BURN

FINEST BOX CANDY

Big Assortment of Post Cards

AGENT FOR LANG'S DRY CLEANING AND DYEING

Miss Wise: What is the best word you can give

descriptive of violent action?

Wilbur Willis: Home brew.

Mary S.: Why did you get thrown out of music?

Bill Brown: For singing.

Harold G.: Ever hear the story about the golden

fleece?

Bob S.: No, do they bite?

Miss Wise (to Cline Jones sleeping in the study

hall): Wake up! You can't sleep in here.

Cline: I know I can't with you making all this

fuss.

Leroy Decker: Did you tell Miss Wise I had big

feet?

Jay Jackson: I did not. I merely stated that if

you took off your shoes you would be half un-

dressed.

"Prompt Printers for Particular People"

The Independent

PRINT SHOP

48 1/2 N. Sandusky St.

Telephone 2582

THE

GAZETTE

DELAWARE, OHIO

Publishers and Job Printers

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 67)

[page 67]

[corresponds to unlabeled page 65 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

PROFESSIONAL PAGE

DR. W. S. McCLEERY

Osteopathic Physician

27 W. Winter St.

Phone 2303

COMPLIMENTARY

W. A. WHITACRE

Dentist

2nd Floor People's Building

Elevator Service

X-RAY

Special Attention Given to

Radiographing Teeth

WILLIAM O. SEMANS

Dental Surgeon

X-Ray Examinations

4th Floor People's Building

Phone 2414

Telephones:

Office, 2488; Residence, 2559

DR. CATHERINE MAY

CHUBB

Osteopathic Physician

Office: People's Bldg.

COMPLIMENTARY

'Phones:

Residence, 2317; Office, 5138

JOHN PFANNSTIEL

Dentist

Delaware, Ohio

'Phone 5443

B. GORSUCH

Dentist

62 1-2 N. Main St.

Hyatts Block

Delaware, Ohio

DR. MARK A. BAUER

DR. ALICE POTTER BAUER

Osteopathic Physicians

Fourth Floor People's Bldg.

F. L. DAVISON

Dentist

69 1-2 N. Sandusky St.

Delaware, Ohio

H. D. JONES

Dentist

57 1-2 N. Sandusky St.

Over Blair's Store

'Phone 4159

'Phone 7119

DAVID MORGAN

Dentist

Delaware, Ohio

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 68)

[page 68]

[corresponds to unlabeled page 66 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

Make Thrift a Habit!

Habit is a physical thing. Doing something over and over

again forms a habit. You just can't wish yourself into a habit.

You must act. Do something physically. The foundation of

the thrift habit is to save first and spend afterwards. The Bank

can assist you materially in developing this habit.

Delaware Savings Bank

Billy Radcliffe: Say, Ab, you'd better keep your

eyes open around here today.

Ab Semans (innocently): Why--?

Billy: Because you'll look like an idiot if you go

around with them shut.

Shay, Joe, whersh my hat?

'S on your head.

'S funny, I didn't feel it.

Well, 's not a felt hat.

(Scott Radcliffe, after a long struggle with his

vocabulary, finally manages to make himself un-

derstood.)

Mr. Utley: Well, Scott, if you can't express your-

self, you can get there by freight anyway, can't

you?

"Bev" K.: Have you an opening for a bright, en-

ergetic high school student?

Employer: Yes, and don't slam it on the way out.

THE MORRISON DRY GOODS CO.

Exclusive Delaware Agency for

"Miss Saratoga Middies"

Middies and Middy Suits

The Delaware Water Co.

Come and see the new

Filtration Plant

Delaware High School Bulletin '22 (p. 69)

[page 69]

[corresponds to unlabeled page 67 of Delaware HS Bulletin '22]

Hard wood, Cypress, Pine, Poplar and Redwood Lumber

Poplar, Fir and Yellow Pine Siding and Flooring

Shingles, Lath, Ceiling, Mouldings Sash and Doors

Flint Kote Individual and Strip Shingles and Roll Roofing

Our Window and Door Frames will please you

THE McKENZIE LUMBER CO.

Phone 2269

The Delaware Clay Co.

Mrs. Naylor: "Don't forget a penny for ink to-

morrow.

Nevin K.: I refuse to contribute if you're going

to buy red ink with it.

Mrs. Naylor: Oh, you'd receive more than your

money's worth, Nevin.

They say that Paul Benedict has been wandering

in his mind lately.

Don't worry, he can't go far.

Mrs. Naylor: What battle inspired the poem,

"The Charge of the Light Brigade"?

Nevin K.: Valley Forge.

Mr. Utley: What was Lincoln's Gettysburg Ad-

dress?

Ed. Schweitzer: I never knew he lived there.

Ed. Schweitzer: What will this test cover?

Deltus McCarty: About two sheets of paper.

CANDIES FRUITS CONFECTIONS

PAUL BIANCHI

Fancy Brick Ice Cream, Ices and Sherbets for all Occasions

We Deliver Phone 6191

Don't throw your old shoes away;

bring them to the

Modern Shoe Repair Shop

Electric Shoe Shop

Shoes Dyed

Mrs. W. J. Longworth

7 W. William St.

CHANDLER, CLEVELAND

and

MAXWELL

MOTOR CARS

Sales Service

STEGNER AUTO

SERVICE CO.

Delaware, Ohio

Phone 5113 21 Spring St.