Scribulus Girl Fall 1948 Scribulus girl for the fall issue of the magazine is Flora Roberts, selected because she was model for a mighty fetching shot, but more than that because she is making a courageous fight against illness. Last year at Weber high she contracted rheumatic fever, this year enrolled at Weber College. Our stairways and the 25th street hill were too much . . . She is home now at RFD No. 3, Box 369 (Harrisville), but plans to return after another quarter of rest. Statistically Miss Roberts is the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. C. T. Baldwin, has brown hair, blue eyes, fair complexion, is 18, 5 feet and 5 inches tall, and is otherwise all right ... as the specially arranged portrait shows. We give her our congratulations and best wishes of the college for a quick return. Page two There Passed This Way I was doing my best to ignore the guy on the other end of the bench. By Mary Ellen Jeppesen I don't remember just exactly when I first noticed him sitting there on the other end of the park bench. He was the sort of a guy that doesn't attract much attention. I guess the reason that I did notice him was that he was staring at me. I gave him a withering sneer and lifted my nose two inches higher. Being a girl, I naturally thought he was giving me the old come on, and also because I am a girl, I naturally took a second look (out of the corner of my eye, of course). Apparently my would-be sneer didn't pay off because he still just sat there. Not to be outdone, I stared back. This could have gone on for quite awhile if I hadn't remembered that I am a nice girl who doesn't go around trying to stare down perfect strangers. "Are my false eyelashes slipping, or my lipstick smeared, or something?" I asked, holding back a nastier remark. "Of course not. I'm just trying to remember where I've seen you before." "Oh, my gosh," I thought to myself, "they're still using that same old line. Out loud I said, "Well, don't knock yourself out trying," and started to leave. Then it came to me why I was sitting on that particular bench in the first place. That old bench holds a very important place in my heart. Just a year ago I had met Andy on that same spot. I had been sitting there waiting for my date when Andy came along. He had winked at me and I had smiled at him and well, you know the rest. Every week on our "anniversary" we have met by this bench and have done the town like we did that first time. So you see, I couldn't leave. My one and only was due in a half hour, and nothing was going to move me from that spot until he came. I sat down again, doing my best to ignore the guy on the other end of the bench. "Miss, have you ever been in Pomona?" I turned and gave him my most freezing smile. Very politely I said, "Look, buddy, you've never seen me before; I've never been to Pomona; and furthermore if you don't move I'll yell bloody murder for a cop!" During this lengthy discourse, I had a chance to get a good look at the jerk and experiencing a change in heart, I said, "On second thought maybe I wouldn't mind if you stayed, as long as you don't get any more ideas." He smiled and moved over toward me an inch or so. "Rocky Pierson's the name. Ve-ery happy to know you, Miss-uh-what did you say your name was?" Some guys never give up! I stared straight ahead, a most haughty look on my face. "Sorta chilly tonight, isn't it?" I kept on with the same silent treatment. "A hot cup of coffee would go mighty fine right now. I know a swell little place not far from here. They serve wonderful coffee. Doughnuts, too." "Are you asking me or telling me?" I said, indifferently, of course. "Well, how about it? I'll have you back in less than a half hour." I admitted to myself that it was cold, and a cup of hot coffee would hit the well-known spot, and if I were back at seven-thirty. . . . "Okay, you win, but don't get the idea that I make this kind of thing a habit." Gosh, I wonder what Andy said when I didn't show up? Page three