9. REQUEST MADE FOR CHANGE IN STUDY HOURS Allow Few Minutes of Each Period, Suggestion To Teachers OGDEN HIGH SCHOOL NEWS Emily Merrill, Editor; Blaine Larsen, Associate Editor. Lessons, lessons, lessons — that is all a student hears! He comes to school in the morning at eight- thirty and remains till three-thirty. After these hours he is busily intent on preparing assignments, some¬times large ones. To accomplish this, he spends much of his time that he could be exerting on an outside ac¬tivity. One should study when he is in school—that fact is granted and per¬haps, too, it is right to expect a stu-dent to study an hour and a half in the evening, but certainly not more. However, any individual who comes prepared to all of his classes must spend more time than this on home¬work. Is it fair to expect students to spend from eight-thirty until three-thirty on lessons and from seven until nine? Every one thirsting after knowledge will do so if such is re¬quired for preparation, but teachers, why don't you allow a few minutes each period in which to study? Such an arrangement would save the students' time and assuredly would be appreciated by every student at High school. NEW FACES NOTED As the bugle sounded "face in" Tuesday morning, the cadets of Ogden High met in squads and com-panies under many new officers. They now start a year's labor that will, at the end, place our school again among the first in the west in regard to R. O. T. C. training. Under the daily direction of very capable officers the cadets should gain a world of training and experi-ence that will display itself to the inspector on the day of days, In¬spection day. No, we are not trying to be prophets. We are just making knowrt that which is possible, pro¬vided the officers and cadets work in harmony throughout the year. May the officers have the assist¬ance of the entire school. MALES CONCEITED Oh, the conceit of these males. They actually think a girl powders her nose just for their benefit. Don't they realize a girl hates a shiny nose and feels conspicuous with one, even if it doesn't improve her fea¬tures? A girl would feel as uncom¬fortable with a shiny nose as a boy would if he had forgotten to comb his hair before coming to school. When the boys come to school with uncombed hair we females will come with shiny noses.—A Disgusted Junior. IT'S USUALLY THAT WAY The clock gonged once, twice, then a third time. I opened my one eye to see if my ears had deceived me. No, the hands pointed at twelve and three. Four more hours to dream contentedly! Suddenly a terrible premonition came over me. I had forgotten something — something very important! What could it be? Then with a gush of chilling air (the ill wind that blew no one any good) it came to me. My eyes popped open, and I sat straight up in bed with a gasp! Tomorrow ended the six weeks and I did not have my notebook completed! "Oh, well," thought I, settling back under the warm covers and preparing to enjoy another forty winks, "I'll hand mine in a day or so late; it's so nice here, and she'll never know the differ¬ence." But would she know? And would I suffer when that big, fat "F" was put before me? After several futile attempts to forget it, I ventured one foot out, then the other. In another moment my feet found their way into house slippers and my shivering arms into the warmth of a bath robe. I switched the light on and placed a chair before the table. I brought forth the long-forgotten notebook and looked at it hopelessly. Then with my chin set with de¬termination (and my knees shaking with cold) I worked on and on. Frantically I searched for material in books and magazines. Desperately I tore illustration after illustration from the latest periodicals. At last the first ray of dawn peeped through my window, and the notebook was finished. Exhausted I flung myself upon the bed only to be awakened by that familiar "Time to get up!" Is it any wonder I nearly went to sleep in class? When I told the teacher why I was so sleepy, she merely took my notebook and gave me a let-that-be-a-lesson-to-you; Ho hum! Such is life!—E. C. ARMISTICE ASSEMBLY The band favored us with a selec¬tion entitled "Director's March." Principal A. M. Merrill said a few words about peace and Armistice day. He then introduced the speaker, Attorney Royal J. Douglas, a former student of Ogden High and a cap¬tain of the first football team. He gave an exceptionally interesting talk on the Armistice. He mentioned the peace conference and the cost of war in money and men. He closed with an apology to a teacher, a humorous selection. Mr. Merrill complimented us on winning the Weber-Ogden game, and we were adjourned—Dolores Hartog. THE LETTER BOX Deer Mother: Yesturday i woke up with a bad stumick. I was purty sick till about ten minuts past nine u clock. After that i felt purty much better. I had all my lessuns so i went fishin. I cot a nice string of sukurs an carp an cat fish. Wen i wus fishin the prinsibule called the house and wantud too no why i wusnit to school. The lady sed i wus fishun. I wus on a spot. To make it rite with the prinsibule i decidud too take him sum fish. Wen i got to his house, he wus eetin, so i nocked on the door and walked in with my fish. I explained that i wus out of skool because i wus sick till aftur nine u clock. Then i sed i went fishun cause their wusnt nuthin else too do. All the time i had the fish in back of me and wen he asked me if i cot any¬thing i sed "yes" and brung the fish around purty fast and a liddul cat fish flew off the string and lit in his oister soup and startud swimun around. He got purty mad and i went out of the house purty quick leavin, of course, the fish on his over-stuf set. I went too skool today and the prinsibule jest stood and glared at me and made me feel like a haf sent peace. I aint going to stay out of skool no more unless i stay in bed all day.—Yur Sun. NOTICE The Note's Staff would greatly ap¬preciate humorous contributions for this column. 10. First RUNNERS REWARDED BY USEQFGLASS Short Statured Ones Must Let Thatch Grow As It May OGDEN HIGH SCHOOL NEWS Emily Merrill, Editor; Blaine Larsen, Associate Editor. Faster and faster I ran as I dodged past people, teachers and doors. Could I possibly make it? I struggled to increase my now neck breaking pace, but some pretty girl got in my way and I had to put my¬self in reverse to avoid a crash. Again I was off! Again I crouch¬ed low (almost like Woody Call) for I expected a sudden stop. Ah, there was the stairway. At last I had nearly reached my obejctive. Encouraged by my success, I charged toward the stairs, but again I was almost brought to a halt. (Mr. Peterson was looking in my direction). At last I found my¬self racing up those once distant stairs. Again I asked myself if I could possibly reach my goal in time to get a peek in the mirror at my once beautiful "head moss." I almost flew into the basement, my face lit with eager expectation, but alas! I had used up several thousand vitamins (or some such animal) and had miserably failed. I had failed to capture a mirror be-cause there is only one there, and there were at least forty worthy stu¬dents doing the "ostrich neck" try¬ing to catch a glimpse of their in¬nocent little faces in that popular glass.