Dear Phyllis: It sure is hard to find time to write these days when everybody has somebody graduating and when you are not going to commencement exercises you are making presents for some of the class. You know Gladys graduates from the High thistyear and the do-mastic arts teacher is bound all the girls shall make their own dresses, without even their mother's help. Imagine \that youngster who never took a ipedle in her hand except when she.was in school. Mother is fit to he tied, and says shed rather fake ten dresses than. try not to help on one! Gladys says the children just try to bother her so that shell spoil the frock and they'll have the white organdy made over for them.
Speaking of Commencements, do you remember that it was just five years ago this June that the noble class of 1917 was ejected from the High? I never did feel any more important than that hot evening on the Opera House stage with my new foa and my tight slippers and the town waiting to hear what I had to tell them about Youth's Responsibility to the Nation." And.your Class Prophecy, Phil, with all its fine promises and sly digs! Well, I've not married that millionaire you saw in your vision, but that's only because I've been 0 busy to hunt him up. Mother s saying this morning that you and I got more flowers than any one else in the class and she only. hopes Gladys won't be forgotten, so I-suppose that means -I must ko sure to send her a basket, and vernind Wes Hathaway that "it would tickle the kid to have him address some carnations in her care.
You remember John Lewisohn, that the boyg always called Iky because his father ran that Jew tailor shop? He was about the brightest in the class, but no wonder, he was always grinding away, a regular poler. I never saw him at a football game in my life and I'll bet he didn't know where the tennis courts were. As for dances, he was quite too busy plugging away on a.. theme, or doing some ''optional reading" in lit. to waste any time on the light fantastic. Then of course he had his paper route in the morning and worked in the shop after school. And at that Principal Baldwin had the nerve to suggest to the president that the class ask him to give the valedictory!
Remember? I could have passed out when Wes told me about it, j but of course he settled it all right, not even in bringing it up before the class. 'What,' said he, "'ask a fellow who never rooted for the baseball team or got a place in an athletic meet for the school?" "O," says. Dr. Baldwin, sneering-like, if this is an athletic contest and not a literary exercise, of course." But he couldn't phase Wes, because of course it would have been ridiculous to bring it class meeting and not have "the poor freak get a single vote. A chap has to do something more for his class than get a line of A-s on his report card before he can expect an honour like that.
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.