ijhcr 9, 192
By GuEsriir Holder,.
T^ie most important event of my life
took, place on a beautiful, moonlit Sun
day \ night, July 14, 1907—at least, the
niglil , was beautiful and moonlit to the
best of my recollections, which are a bit
hazy upon the subject. Just as the old
grandfather clock in the hall was strik
ing .eleven times in deep, musical tones,
I smote the still night air with my first
lusty yell in shrill and very unmusical
The days of my childhood seem very
happy, almost idealistic as I look back
upon them now. My fondest memories
of these dim, prehistoric ages are those
of vacations spent on my grandfather’s
farm. My grandfather himself, a si
lent, impressive old gentleman, whom I
thought of as the very creator of all wis
dom; an old patriach of all horses
named Dan, who was devoted to me
and trotted along after me like an over
grown dog; the orchard and big kitch
en, where I spent a large part of my
time either eating or waiting for cook
ies or pies to finish baking; all these
things stand out in my memory now.
One hot day in the fourth summer
after that memorable July night when I
was born, I slipped away from my
grandfather’s house and ran down to an
old mill pond on the farm where I was
very fond of going. I was leaning over
the hank watching the fish swimming
around and wondering what sort of
dragons and demons they were when my
foot slipped and in I went. Down,
down I went until I thought I had
reached the infernal regions themselves.
I came up at last and yelled out at the
top of my voice. I went down again
for what seemed an eternity when
came up a second time. I was just won
dering if I couldn’t knock off some
pieces of the golden streets in Heaven
which my mother had told me about
when I felt something pull me and drag
me to the shore. That was all I knew
until I came back to consciousness and
found myself in bed with my grand
mother bending over me. They told
me that my grandfather’s big shepherc
dog. Shag, had pulled me out anc
dragged me home. From that time un
til he died about six years ago Shag
and 1 were inseparable companions.
The next big event of my life was
when 1 started to school at the age of
six. My first day at school gave me a
deep dislike if not an actual hatred of
all things scholastic which all my years
at school have not been able to entirely
overcome. That day I had two fights,
in both of which I was licked. While
I was in the throes of combat in the
second fight the principal saw us and
carried us both to his office, where I
got my third licking of the day. My
only consolation was that the other boy
was licked, too. When I reached home
I found that the news of my pugilistic
affairs had preceded me, whereupon I
received my fourth licking of the day,
which you will admit is more than any
boy can stand.
I progressed very well in school, how
ever, and made my promotion every
year I attended. I was out two years
once when my people moved to Georgia
where we stayed nearly a year, and
again when I had the flu, measles,
mumps, and about everything else of
a like nature.
Probably the biggest thrill of my life
to date came in my twelfth year, when
I got my first job. At the end of the
week my boss handed me an envelope
containing the princely sum of three
dollars in return for my week’s labors,
I.ater when I walked down the street
I felt that I was the czar of all crea
tion, the lord of everything that my
haughty gaze fell upon.
My first tackle of my first football
game gave me another big thrill. The
oi)posing team had the balk and when it
was snapped hack it seemed to me as if
the whole team, with about ten more re
cruits who sprang from some myste
rious place, started for me. My first
impulse was to turn around and run
for my life but I stuck where I was,
my legs refusing to function from fear.
The foremost man hit me and down
went. I saw a leg protrude from the
whirling mass of bodies and I caught
hold of it,' pulling it’s owner down with
me. It happened to be the man who
was carrying the ball, and I had made
my first tackle. I have made many a
tackle since then, but none has given me
the satisfaction of that first tackle.
I am a Junior, and when I get
through these last two years, I hope to
go to the University, where I shall take
law course, so some day when you
hear of the renowned and far famed
legal expert, Glenn Holder, you may
know that it is the same old Glenn
Holder who used to go to school with
you at old G. H. S.
THE PLEASURE OF
From “The Ten-fold Pleasures of this
(Being a learned discourse by the Great
Elijah Van Kientrick)
Wilbur Daniel Steei.
By Frances Elder.
People visiting our city are reminded
that this is the home of O. Henry by
the O. Henry Hotel, the O. Henry Drug
Store, and the O. Henry Tablet. Few,
however, know that Greensboro is also
the home of another of America’s great
short story writers, Wilbur Daniel Steel.
Wilbur Daniel Steel, the san of Rev.
W. F. Steel, was born in Greensboro,
March 17, 1886. He lived here only two
years, his father being called to Den
ver, Colorado, where he was a profes
sor of Bihle in the University of Den
ver. It was from this college that Wil
bur Steel graduated in 1907.
Gradually young Steel climber the
ladder to success until now he has
reached the top round. His first story
to creep into the hearts of Americans
short story lovers, was “White Horse
Winter” written in 1912. Many of his
stories have appeared in our leading
magazines such as Harpers. CenUiry.
Atlantic, and Pictorial Review.
In 1919 Steel was awarded second
prize by the O. Henry award committee
for the story “They Know Not What
They Do.” This was followed in 1921
by a special award from the same com
mittee for the highest rank maintained
during three years among American
Short Story writers.
Mention might be made of the fact
that in 1918 a number of Steel’s stories
appeared in book form. A copy of these
can be found in any public library.
IN SPANISH CLASS
By Mary McCollum
Dancing lightly into the room with
a half hop, half skip motion, she
perches herself upon the corner of her
desk and smiles upon her pupils. Then
with the twiddle of her pencil and
toss of her wavy locks, she assumes the
dignity of her role and checks uji on
her “muchachos malos.”
Standing erect with her feet wedgec
between the rounds of the chair, she
lays before her charges a carefully
planned lesson, and the attention of the
class is held in such a way that the at
lotted fifty minutes seem to speed away
Frequently a fun-loving student de
sires to stir up a little excitement. At
first the result seems fatal, but with
flash of those piercing eyes, she once
again restores order, and with a cheer
ful smile assures the pip:)!! that all is
I'he pleasure of eating, as all mortal
blessings, is purely a transitory one.
“Let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we
die,” and let us do so in such a w'ay as
to drive the greatest possible enjoyment
How food, the most vital of all sub
jects, can have been so neglected by lit
erary geniuses, not only of modern, but
of former times, surpasses indeed my
understanding. Be it ever to Charles
Lambe’s credit that he, alone, has real
ized its importance and has given to
posterity his immortal essay. “A Dis
sertation on Roast Pig.” Yet, even this
is somewhat lacking when one consid
ers the pages wasted upon the history of
that delicious meat that might have
Deen spent to much greater advantage
in describing the delightful sensations
in partaking thereof.
Having now, in accordance with the
X^ractice of all great writers, informed
my readers of the x^iitfiose of this essay,
sliall x®>roceed to my discussion, lest
you weary of so long an introduction.
Know then, that in order to ax:>X)re-
ciate the true x^l^^sure of eating, the
table must be api^roached with a hearty
ax:>X>etite, one that has been augmented
^y a moderate abstinence. The rex^ast
should be masticated in conjunction with
a congenial associate, preferably corx:)u-
lent and stip^id. The fat man can con
tain little of that he desires; the dolt
will not distract the mind with conver
It is also imx:)erative, in attaining the
highest satisfaction, that there be a su
perfluity of edibles, of a quality unsur-
X^assed. Thus, the necessity for choice
of foods is allurated and more time is
allowed for the gratifications of the
Grab as many victuals as can be held
in both hands at the same time; cram
them leizurely into the mouth, accom
panying the action with a loud smack
ing of the lips. If a x^ortion of every
esculent has been included in the mix
ture, such an ax^petizing blend will thus
have been accomxilished that the detec
tions of the eater will know no bounds.
In the exuberance of his joy he will be
heard to exclaim, “What more is there
to live for? I have attained to the
greatest x^leasure of this life.”
■ ^ •
By Helen Felder.
The fire was dancing and crackling
on the hearth. It really seemed be
witched. To one x^fiir >f eyes it was be
witched, for tliose eyes were seeing little
figures and scenes come to the fore from
out of the fire. That x'>ciir of eyes be
longed to grandma, and she made them
find things in the flames wliich no one
else could see.
At her feet curly-headed Elizabeth, a
winsome lass of tw'elve years, turned
her face ux^ to her grandma’s to see why
she was so quiet, for Elizabeth was a
wise child for her years and in grand
ma’s dreamy attitude had sensed a
sx:>irit of reminiscence.
“What are you thinking of, grand
ma?” she queried softly.
“My dear, my old school days seemed
coming back to me,” she rexilied.
“You must have enjoyed them just
lots to remember them so vividly’'.
“I did. In fact, wiien I was in high
school, I was on the staff of High Life.
our x^ax^er. I enjoyed that even if I did
have to wmrk hard. Our meetings were
alwmys so interesting. I remember one
of them in particular, because, though
short, it wm.s full of wmrthwiiile advice
and discussion, and even humor. Lois
“Our faculty advisors. Miss Coleman
and Mr. Wunch, were just bubbling over
with advice and each tried to see wffiich
could give the most and best. Vir
ginia Jackson wuiS fidgety that after
noon; I think she had an engagement;
wo could hardly keex) her from adjourn
ing everything all by her own little self.
Three secretaries, Elizabeth Stone,
Helen Felder, and Alfred Dixon, were
axiiiointed just to keex) minutes, and
they immediately began squabbling over
who should do it first. Each declared,
solemnly, that the others were best
suited for beginning it. When they
finally decided and subsided, Helen
Felder was elected, and business was re
“Soon everybody got breathless try
ing to get all the business over in a
hurry and we decided it was best to ad-
'ourn. My! It certainly wuis one grand
time! I loved it all.”
Elizabeth, given something new to
think about, was silent for a while.
Grandmother, too, was quiet and leaned
jack in her chair in deex^ thought.
The incident which I am about to re
late causes me, everytime I think of it,
to flush with indignation.
I had met the most attractive young
lady at a dance the night before. So
infatuated was I that I wuis determined
to see her again. I>ed on by this emo
tion, I decided to xffione her at once. I
had it d11 xil^inned. We wmre to have
suxix^er at the Ritz, after w'e had taken
in the theatre.
Now', don’t be surprised at my ardor,
for the night before I had received an
extraordinary amount of encouragement.
Only one tiling worried me, I had for
gotten her last name. But as I knew
the first one and her x®>hone number, I
took a sliot at it.
I called her number—1783-'W'^. “W”
or “J”—which was it?
“Hello!” a coarse voice answered.
“Hello may I sx^ieak to Margaret?” I
rexilie(i, determined to x^ersuade her to
go if it wuis in my x^ower to do so.
‘Hello,” a softer voice came over the
w'lres. But, still not the ultrasoft, musi
cal voice I had heard the night before.
thought she had contracted a cold so
my suspicions remained at rest.
“Hello,” Margaret, how^ about a date
tonight? What are you going to do?
Would love to take you to the theatre
and to supxier afterwmrds. Please say
you will go.”
“Mffio are you?” was the response.
“Why, this is Charlie. We’ll have a
grand time. I’ll come after you in my
roadster and we’ll take in a theatre and
the Ritz afterwards. I know"—”
“Nigger, ah know you-all is tw"o-tim-
ing me now", ’cause thar ain’t no nig
gers allowed at the Ritz. An’ besides, I
;at a date.”
“Say! Who are you?” and I turned
“Dis here am Margaret Washington
Wilson Jefferson Ford Rockerfeller
Brow"n, but some calls me Maggie for
UNCLE AND HIS SPEECH
By Helen Fokbis.
Along about Bepitember,
When the weather ’gins to cool,
And flowers are all a droopin’;
Why it’s time to go to school.
Of course it’s sure a good ole place
Where we have heaps of fun
But sure it’s hard to go again
To classes have to run.
But when we do get started.
We work without a res’
’Cause you bet your life no loafers
Hang around at G. IT. 8.
By Lois Mitchell.
With wayside trees.
In which the sunshine sparkles
On the kaleidoscopic leaves.
Purpled hued with peaks.
Majestic, wearing caps of clouds
A7)d flaunting maple flames.
Hillsides and valleys
Share a common glory
Sunshine of Autumn time.
The soul of Nature’s life.
The cover on The Literary Digest
for September entitled, “September
Sunshine” is a w"onderful outdoor scene
X:)ainted by H. Fregssig. The picture of
the autumn sunshine on the autumn col
ors is a thing of beauty, pleasing to the
Some time later a little fire fairy
Xieexied uxi from the dying embers. He
was the look-out for a host of follow
ers w'aiting to see if all was safe for a
frolic. .Seeing grandma and Elizabeth
by the fire, he smiled and whisx^ered to
the others that the coast w"as clear.
Grandma and Elizabeth w'ere asleex^.
A CASE OF ABSENT
RUSHED TO DEATH.
Dear Ma, I’m jest a ritin’ a post-card
today sence I’m so busy with all them
assinments which my English techer giv
us. I w"ent to Sells-Floto last week and
nearly flotoed away it w"as rainin so
hard. Your lovin son, Hiram.
RAIN AND SHINE
By Ruth Ferree.
The day was dark and dreary
The sun refused to shine,
And every one was weary
Of rain on grass and pine.
So the sunbeams got together
And decided to persuade.
The old sun to come out again
And lend the ea^dh his aid.
They plead, they coaxed, they flattered
They drew him from his place,
And now the eaidh rejoices
With the sunshine on her face.
By Gareett Gbegory.
Coleridge and Lamb w"ere friends,
such good friends in fact, that both felt
perfectly at ease in the x^resence of the
other. Coleridge had an absent mindec
w"aj" of shutting his eyes w'hen he was
talking and twirling betw'een his fingers
a button of his listener’s coat, (to in
sure attention, I supx:)Ose.)
One morning the tw"o friends met anc
Coleridge started discoursing in his us
ual manner. Seeing that he would be
detained for some time. Lamb reachec
in his x^ocket and drew out a smal
knife. It took only a moment to cut
the button which held him a prisoner.
A block away, he turned and behelc
Coleridge in exactly the same spot, stil
holding the button between his fingers,
his eyes shue tight, and in the midst of
a long, one-sided argument.
Be a life long or short, its complete
ness dexiends on what it w"as lived for.—
By Walter Smalley
“Uncle, who won the game?”
“Why—Sah? It’s hard to tell. Saul-
isbury wmn in score but they certainly
did’nt win in spirit. That Greensboro
team sure fights hard. They fought for
their school, too. Yes sir. They de
served to win.”
“Some one was telling me that it was
a bum game”, remarked the inquirer.
“Yes—sah. That’s gossqi. Some of
these x^^ople are always complaining.
Them’s the people what lack the school
spirit. If they backed the school like
the players played for the school there
wouldn’t be nothing lacking at the
Greensboro High School.”
“What made the Greensboro team
lose?” asked the inquirer.
“Why, somethin’ slipped at the last
moment. I don’t blame it for slix^ping.
I slipped several times myself.”
“Maybe the Saulisbury lads played
better than Greensboro boys,” said the
“Mister I ain’ sayin’ that the Saulis
bury boys didn’t play good but they
didn’t have nothing on our boys. They
X^layed their best, but the rain made the
breaks slip the wrong way. Listen here.
Boss, I’ll bet you if there’d a-been a big
crowd on the side lines rooting for them
Greensboro boys, they would a won in a
walk and would had a plenty of points
left over. Of course you don’t exx^ect
them to turn out with sky, heaven and
earth leaking, but if it stops raining
and there is a big crowd out for the
other games, and there is plenty of root
ing—well Greensboro will WIN! And
that will satisfy them so well that they
will run away with the state champion
ship. And, sah, that’s all I have got to
What men want is not talent, it
purpose; not the power to achieve but
the will to labor.—Lytton,
I resolved that, like the sun, so long
as the day lasted I would look on the
bright side of everything.—Marie Child.
Pessimism is waste of force—the x^en-
alty of one who knows not how to live.
What I aspired to be,
And was not, comforts me.
Character is higher than intellect. A
great soul will be strong to live, as well
as to think.—Emerson.
Be pleasant until 10 o’clock in the
morning, and the rest of the day will
take care of itself.—Mahie.