|Late one night when Mr. Clevenger, better known as “Little Tad,” was quite a small child, he was hurrying down the street on his way
home, when some one came up behind him and slapped him on the back. “Little Tad” quickly turned around and beheld “Buckskin Pete,” a friendly old Indian, who offered to give him a ride home. So Tad mounted behind “Buckskin Pete” and hung on for dear life, for the old Indian was full of “fire water,” and there was no telling what might happen. On their way home they had to pass through dense woods. Now and then the shrill bark of a wolf was heard in the distance, then some creature of the air would screech forth, in the thickest of the forest fiery eyes would appear and disappear. Occasionally a stray branch would brush them on the head, at which old “Buckskin Pete” would let out an awful whoop, probably imagining he was on some scalping expedition. Tad’s hair gradually rose higher and higher until it stood perpendicular. At last the home of Little Tad was reached. He slid from the pony and slowly moved toward the house as if in a trance, and, as he says, “scared out of a ten-years’ growth.”
R. O. to L. P.-“What did you write your English theme on?”.
L. P.-“Notebook paper.”
Mr. M. (in Eng. Hist.)—“Who was Stephen?”
M. B. —Stephen was the son of William the Conqueror’s daughter.”
Mr. M. —“What relation would that be to William.”
M. B. (hesitatingly)—“Why, I don’t know.”
Miss B. – “What is the cause of fainting?’
May W. – “Lack of Brains.”
Anna R. says she just loves those light colored rain coats. I wonder why.
Laurence Dutton—first in the discus, first in the pole—vault and first in the heart of Joe.
H. D. attempts to sprout beans in his ink bottle.
Myles W. to Miss Lee: “Can you compare Opie Reed’s works with Washington Irving’s?”
Miss Lee – “No, I don’t think you can compare her works with his.”
M. W. – “But he isn’t a her, but a he.”
What was all the noise on the “Freshy” side at a quarter of eleven?
While playing ball on Main street, Joe Mc. was heard to say to Laurence D., “No wonder the ball hurts your hands— they are nice and soft, while mine are all calloused by manual labor.”
The German class was required to learn the XXI psalm in German. Miss French asked, “Do you know it in English, Howard?”
H. R. (stammering) – “Why, no; I tried to find a bible, but couldn’t.”