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Show SNOOP SCOOP This is the way it started: Those huge paper-bound packages were brought in and placed on the teacher's desk. Everyone clenched his teeth and wrung his hands in nervous excitement as the teacher slowly and efficiently read the bulletin and marked the roll and filled out the absence and tardy slips. Finally, our intended 10-minute advisory (which took 25 minutes) was over, and our advisor gave us a lecture on what we should and shouldn't write on those sacred pages, and why and why not, while we wondered if we would ever see the inside of them. Ah! At last he passed them out mine was next to the last and the ink was smeared on the cover. cov-er. But I didn't mind. I was thumbing through the smooth, blue and white pages, watching familiar fa-miliar faces appear and reappear. Then came the mad scramble. Yearbooks started flying right and left. "Will I sign yours? Sure. Be glad to. Here, sign mine, will you? Thanks." Gee Whiz! What could I say about him ? I never did like him. He's crazy and I doubted doubt-ed if he'd ever done anything worth mentioning. Well, here goes. Dear no, that wasn't quite right. "Don You've been a swell kid as long as I've known you." (I hadn't known him very long, so that wasn't exactly a lie; just a slight exaggeration.) "Here's wishing you all the success and happiness you deserve." (A dumb kid like he is doesn't deserve very darn much, so I wasn't being unreasonable). un-reasonable). "Your" (what was I to him, anyway? We weren't pals. I hardly ever saw him except in the halls and cafeteria). "Your" well, I'd just add an "s" and say "Yours truly.' . There. That was done. Gosh! He was still writing writ-ing in mine. It looked as if he were filling the whole page. I don't see how anybody can do that with so little to write about. Ah! There. He was finished. "Gee, thanks a lot, Don, Here's your book. Wish I had time to write more." (It's a good thing- I didn't. I'd probably say something that'd make him mad). And so that was yearbook day. Of course, it didn't end when the 3:00 bell rang. Oh, no! The bouncing of the bus tidn't stop you. You scribbled on, anyway, if a friend asked you to. And then, for a few days after that, you sneaked around in the halls, hoping hop-ing to rest your cramped hand by avoiding any more enthusiastic autograph au-tograph hunters. Yes. Quite a day, quite a day! Daffy Cub. |