RESPECT YOUR ELDERS

A small boy stalks down the hallway of Franklin K. Lane. The dejected expres­sion on his face shows that he is merely a member of the lowest class in school-a fresh­man. He looks longingly at a group of boys joking and laughing. His position, how­ever, forbids his joining them.

Suddenly, a slight smile breaks upon the face of the boy. What has aroused our melancholy friend? Ah, 'tis a member of the fair sex who rapidly approaches to his right that has excited him so. Her long black hair is flung over her shoulders. Her grace£ul step carries her in front of our young friend. Her perfume has intoxicated him for he stands erect peering at this beauty. It is love at first sight for him. He must meet this beauty. So he hoists up his dungarees, and with a smile worn only on special occasions he advances bravely.

With gleaming eyes and a pounding heart, he slinks to her side and with lips screwed up tight like those of a gangster says, "Hiya babe. Where ya been all my life?" The startled girl turns her head and stares at the queer specimen at her side. A suppressed giggle turns into a ringing laugh which echoes throughout the hall.

The freshie looks down and sees a large blue and grey senior button hanging from her books. He turns his reddened face and hurries down the hall lonelier than ever, laughter still ringing in his ears.

LANE'S LITERARY CORNER