Arsenal Technical High School - Arsenal Cannon Yearbook (Indianapolis, IN)

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lfatifet pay lf' 'll' AS DESCRIBED TO v1oLRr BY HER PARENTS Tl l6l1C'2 During the regime of the last Czar of Russia, the market day fell on Sunday. Every Sunday the peasants left their farms and work to go to the city. On this day, the business people set out their wares to sell to the frivolous peasants. The peasant girls having sold their lin- ens, butter, and eggs to the townspeople, went on a shopping tour. First, they went to the jew- elry stands where they decorated themselves with cheap but colorful jewelry, and then they turned to the Ferris Wheel. This Ferris Wheel was similar to the ones we know. It was made from rough hewn logs, with open seats. The wheel was set in motion by two men pulling on ropes. The wheel went faster and faster, and often the peasants found themselves hanging with their heads down. After a certain number of turns the wheel was stopped and ready for a new load of passengers, who were plentiful. Of course, after a wild ride such as this, the people were quite ready for a cooling drink. This drink was made of sweetened ice water with a little strawberry or orange flavoring. When mealtime came, the prosperous peas- ants dined in state in a restaurant. The poorer peasants bought some sugar and bread for their lunch. Setting their food on the top of a kerosene barrel in front of a store, they would proceed to dip their bread in the sugar and eat it. Later in the day, everyone, young and old, rich and poor, gathered in the streets for danc- ing and singing. Thus ended a market day in Old Russia. VIOLET GURVITZ .fhadoufa They stole their way along the stair These shadows, who were creeping there. If I moved swiftly, so did they. And when I tried some other way, They followed me Where'er I Went As if upon some errand bent. But when I reached the bottom step, The sunlight through the Window met And greeted me with friendly cheer, And made those shadows disappear. MARGERY HASBROOK X A startled brilliance in the nearby grass Quiets to let me pass, And loath to miss that splendid thing, I pause-a scintillating wing, A scuttling tail of flame glided through the weeds, Scattering the ripened seeds. And through the thinning stems I see him there: A glory on the air, A bright metallic sheen of colored light, Blinding my sight- Scarlet and purple, crimson, gold, and blue, The tall grasses part to let him through, That crested knight, that luster-feathered king. And I am left, remembering An unforgettable thing. My mind still stained with beauty, past and done, As eyes hold light from looking at the sun. MARY HAYNES He paul knelf of pan KReply to Sandburg's Iazz F antasia l Swelling, seething, surging song of jazzy bands, Crawl back into your wretched wormy hole. Destroy not my peace and quietness, Nor distort my lovely spiritual dreams. You irk my soul, you filthy product Of drunken, rnaddened, senseless structures Of cells and molecules-you wretch- You labyrinth of noises from the kitchen. When did man let you in? Yes, when? Give me the divine music that flowed From the harpsichord of Bach, The serenades of Hungary and Spain, And the romances of Tristan and Carmen. Play for me, deathless sounds of the Ninth, Until I am as deaf as your master. Lull me on in romantic dreams, Dear prodigy of Salzburg and Vienna, Let me hear again strains from The Marriage of Figaro and The Magic Flute. Oh, Pan, thy name hath been scorned! ALBERT IORDAN SMITH