1923 Yearbook
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Title
1923 Yearbook
Description
THE SHRIEK
The late autumn day, very dark and very dreary, was rapidly fading from its semi-
darkness, through the gloomy purples of twilight, into a night which was as impenetrably Stygian and as infectiously clammy as was the boulder-sealed interior of King
Tut-Ankh-Amen's subterranean sepulchre at the ebony hour of twelve on the twenty-
seventh day of December, the year of our Lord fourteen seventy-two. In their fifty-
third floor suite two people—a gray-bearded man, who with the help of God and several successful innoculations of a popular brand of goat glands had attained the ripe
age of two hundred and twelve, and a wee child of the castoria-craving age—were
luxuriously enjoying the easiness of an electrically warmed room—manifestly the
living-room by reason of its tastily arranged lounging chairs; cushioned, enpillowed
divans, ankle-deep rug; burnished, heavy table and the whole scene elevated to one of
irresistible enticement by the hazy, shadowy, soft blue light. The centenarian with the
dexterity born of more than eleven score years of assiduous practice was at an enviable,
picturesque ease (near burial in a generously proportioned chair), untroubled by
harassing thoughts or, in fact, by any thoughts at all. But not so the youth who
stretched at full length upon a couch, languidly scouting the contents of a history.
Suddenly like a bolt from the blue and cloudless, the youth burst into a loud peal of
glee—the peal accompanied by a frantic beating of hands and a spasmodic kicking of
feet—a convulsion of mirth. The old gentleman, cruelly startled from a blissful doze
and in acquiescence to the fitful environment promptly worked into the throes of a
superb ire spasm.
"O, what a guy!" roared the child.
"O !" bluely bellowed the patriarch.
"Lookit that hair," chirped the youngster.
" ____!" the fossil continued masterfully.
"O! O! O!" laughed the youth.
"__ and ___ !" by way of vociferous and oratorical conclusion.
"Great Goldstein, he's a dandy!"
"Who? Why? and what the ?" (mentioning the name of the famous warm
climed rendezvous.
"Who was this half-wit, Great-great-great Grandfather?" questioned the hopeful,
indicating, at the same time, the picture of an extremely handsome man.
Although the grandfather professed his inability to explain, the youth was not
doomed to disappointment; for, just at this psychological moment, another man, even
of more antique appearance than the first, hobbled into the room. His visage was
somewhat drawn from the excruciations he had endured recently from a new and ill-
fitting stomach. (One should beware of cheap imitations and purchase only a well-
known brand—If it isn't Master's it isn't a stomach—Dill's kidneys are guaranteed
for five hundred years—Try Hinkle's lungs—57 varieties—a fit for every figure—
Better purchase a Kelly heart-shoe—before the old one blows out—Buy a Frog-gizzard
Page 182
The late autumn day, very dark and very dreary, was rapidly fading from its semi-
darkness, through the gloomy purples of twilight, into a night which was as impenetrably Stygian and as infectiously clammy as was the boulder-sealed interior of King
Tut-Ankh-Amen's subterranean sepulchre at the ebony hour of twelve on the twenty-
seventh day of December, the year of our Lord fourteen seventy-two. In their fifty-
third floor suite two people—a gray-bearded man, who with the help of God and several successful innoculations of a popular brand of goat glands had attained the ripe
age of two hundred and twelve, and a wee child of the castoria-craving age—were
luxuriously enjoying the easiness of an electrically warmed room—manifestly the
living-room by reason of its tastily arranged lounging chairs; cushioned, enpillowed
divans, ankle-deep rug; burnished, heavy table and the whole scene elevated to one of
irresistible enticement by the hazy, shadowy, soft blue light. The centenarian with the
dexterity born of more than eleven score years of assiduous practice was at an enviable,
picturesque ease (near burial in a generously proportioned chair), untroubled by
harassing thoughts or, in fact, by any thoughts at all. But not so the youth who
stretched at full length upon a couch, languidly scouting the contents of a history.
Suddenly like a bolt from the blue and cloudless, the youth burst into a loud peal of
glee—the peal accompanied by a frantic beating of hands and a spasmodic kicking of
feet—a convulsion of mirth. The old gentleman, cruelly startled from a blissful doze
and in acquiescence to the fitful environment promptly worked into the throes of a
superb ire spasm.
"O, what a guy!" roared the child.
"O !" bluely bellowed the patriarch.
"Lookit that hair," chirped the youngster.
" ____!" the fossil continued masterfully.
"O! O! O!" laughed the youth.
"__ and ___ !" by way of vociferous and oratorical conclusion.
"Great Goldstein, he's a dandy!"
"Who? Why? and what the ?" (mentioning the name of the famous warm
climed rendezvous.
"Who was this half-wit, Great-great-great Grandfather?" questioned the hopeful,
indicating, at the same time, the picture of an extremely handsome man.
Although the grandfather professed his inability to explain, the youth was not
doomed to disappointment; for, just at this psychological moment, another man, even
of more antique appearance than the first, hobbled into the room. His visage was
somewhat drawn from the excruciations he had endured recently from a new and ill-
fitting stomach. (One should beware of cheap imitations and purchase only a well-
known brand—If it isn't Master's it isn't a stomach—Dill's kidneys are guaranteed
for five hundred years—Try Hinkle's lungs—57 varieties—a fit for every figure—
Better purchase a Kelly heart-shoe—before the old one blows out—Buy a Frog-gizzard
Page 182
Date
1923
Rights
St. Ambrose University, 518 W. Locust St., Davenport, IA 52803
Identifier
http://cdm16810.contentdm.oclc.org/cdm/ref/collection/p16810coll2/id/7793