By Shirley Fishman
"Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, violet." No, this is not a dissertation upon the rainbow but about the latest craze, the yo-yo. Are you a devoted fan? If so read on: It may prove profitable. But ye who deem this pastime unworthy of your notice, do not read beyond this sentence.
In the first place there are two kinds of yo-yo's. Those that will perform fancy tricks and those that just won't. Your best bet is to invest in the former and it will well repay you. If your strings are forever breaking and wearing out, buy one at the Variety Hardware and ask Dick Garson to fix it for you.
Can you heave a yo-yo into the air and circle it around admiring head? Ask Robert Tronstein, or Jack Wolin, past masters of the art, and they will show you how it should be done. Or if you want to see an expert at work, steal a peek at Bob Tenzer ordering his spinning yo-yo to climb ladders, walk, and turn loops at his slightest command.
Even the girls have deserted their Shirley Temple dolls, for the fascinating new gadget, and any day you might spy Harriet Fried, Jean Heiser, and Virginia Robertson displaying their latest accomplishments to admiring stag lines.
As for the teachers, well, Norval McAfee, Roy Flint and Miss Catherine Weller, you had better 'fess up. And Mr. A. P. Spencer, earnest pupil of his son, Hugh, is walking on air because his 12-year-old is the newly acclaimed "Champee" of the Noble road district.