6 ACORN to do even that; for you would not be satisfied, and would not stay." He asked if I could operate the wires, and on my answering in the affirmative referred me to the manager of the operating department. He had nothing to offer, so turned me over to the manager of city wires, who turned me over to the application clerk, who turned me over to another clerk, who turned me over to someone else, and so on. till I found myself turned out into the street. I felt like exclaiming with the Jew, who kicked from one floor to another in a department store, and finally into the street picked himself up and said, "Mein gracious vat eim system?" I then decided that I didn't want office work anyway; would rather do something that was more womanly, and not so mechanical. So I put an "ad" in the Sunday Tribune for a situation as governess, or lady's companion. Next day I received stacks of letters-but they were all from men. Among them were letters from ministers, reporters, widowers of fifty-two, bachelors of thirty-five; all kinds, conditions, ages, and occupations. They each wanted a wife. I was frightened and moved to a different neighborhood. I answered "help-wanted" ads in the papers, spent all my time and most of my money on the cable cars vibrating between the city and my boarding house. One day in a spirit of bravado I answered an "ad" for a singer. The manager tried me on a song in manuscript, which he wanted to bring out. He offered to have it published with my picture on the cover, and have me sing it in the vaudeville shows, if I would pay him $25.00 in advance. I declined with thanks. I next haunted employment agencies; paid my application fee, and heard no more from them. Then some one advertised for a tall, slender, blonde, young lady, as traveling companion to a wealthy woman. "There's your chance," some one said so I made myself look as tall, and as slender, and as blonde as I could and went to be interviewed. There were "Titian" blondes, and ashy blondes; bleached blondes, and faded blondes; pretty blondes and plain blondes. Most of them were tall and slender; and they stood in line awaiting their turn. I turned sadly away, deciding it was not my chance. E. T., '14. ACORN 7 A Call to Arms Come Students, one and all, From class room and study hall, Let us gather 'round together, there's a reason, Basket ball is on us now And the question is: Just how Are you going to support the team this season? Now last year, as you all know, Weber's team was not so slow, For they won "hands down" in each and every game. In that glorious Provo trip, They brought back State Championship, And this year Coach Watson wants to do the same. But our "friends from up the street" Say this year we'll meet defeat And they boast how they'll put Weber "on the blink." But undaunted still we say That to defeat Weber A. Is a harder proposition than they think. True, we've lost our last year's team. While our friends, so it would seem, Have their same bunch with a "brand-new coach" to beat us. Yet with Watson making good, "Saying nothing sawing wood." We're convinced they'll have to play ball to defeat us. Our team needs it, get behind them For a coach can't do it all, Nor will any team play ball If the students fail to give them good support. Our team needs it, get behind them And the season's close will find them At the top and fighting hard to "hold the fort." So let's all come out in force, Give school yells until we're hoarse; Nine loud rahs for Weber! and a Hip Hooray! Let's awaken from that dream Cheer for Watson and his team, "Bring the Bacon" home again to W. A. P.