Claymont High School - Clay Tablet Yearbook (Claymont, DE)

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then in Greek. Finally they were freed for the day-but not Henry. Even outside the schoolroom Henry was not happy. lf two triangles have two sides of the one equal to two sides of the other, each to each, but the angle contained by the two sides . . . oh, why must he learn it? It did not make sense. Then the vision would appear. Euclid, with a rectangular mouth full of pointed teeth, and fierce red eyes, holding in bony fingers two triangleshawful things-almost ghostlike. And Euclid was flaunting them before poor Henry's eyes. The vision haunted him always. The next morning the proposition was no clearer. Before long it was routine that Henry be called numskull. Each day the officer asked Henry if he knew the proposition, and each day poor, scared, little Henry said, No. One day an air of excitement reigned in the schoolroom. The master began his routine. But the tolerance of his young pupils was worn thin. At the first sarcastic remark, bedlam broke loose. The older boys, each armed with a short rope, leaped out of their seats. They rushed to the front of the room. They whipped the teacher. Frightened little Henry ran to the back of the room and hid in a huge coil of hemp. Every few minutes he peeped over the edge of the coil. The fight was almost a riot. The noise was deafening. Henry ducked down again. A shadow crossed the threshold. The Skipper. Avast there, me heartiesl What's up? he boomed. Before many minutes elapsed, order was restored. Henry peeped over the edge of the coil of rope. Calm! He eased out of it. He breathed a sigh of relief. No Euclid today, at least! But his respite was brief. The school was reorganized. The older boys were let out and each was meted out some task by the Skipper. But the younger boys had to return to the tutelage of the Army officer. Henry, alas, was a younger boy. The routine of calling Henry a numskull was resumed, and for long weeks Euclid again haunted Henry day and night. The Bible has something to say about pride going before a fall, and a haughty spirit before destruction. One day the school master decided to disobey the command that no one except the crew was to climb to the crow's nest. He was part way up when the sailors cut the ropes and left him dangling in mid-air. After several hours of hanging to the remaining ladder, the skipper sent aid to the now penitent Army officer. After this incident the schoolmaster lost caste. Everyone looked down upon him. But-the school continued. The days passed with the same old story until Henry, while racing around on the deck, fell and hurt his finger. lt was just a scratch, but it became infected. By this time, Henry's parents were aware of his horror of school. After his finger became infected, they agreed to his skipping the education for the rest of the journey. His finger did not bother him after the ship's doctor lanced it. Henry was a favorite among the grown-ups. All the kind ladies aboard the ship, gave him raisins from their private supplies. Nothing more was said to Henry about school, but whenever the schoolmaster passed by, the vision returned to Henry. Euclid, with the rectangular mouth full of pointed teeth, and fierce red eyes,-holding in bony fingers two triangles, awful things, almost ghostlike. And Euclid was flaunting them before poor Henry's eyes. Then came the morning when the lookout sang out, Land Ho! People scurried around taking care of last minute errands and tasks. Southampton was dead ahead! After the boat docked, Henry and Charles were permitted to go for a walk up and down the quay. As they walked toward the city, a tall man loomed in front of them. Henry and Charles humbly doffed their caps and said Good day, sir. Their greeting to their former schoolmaster was answered with a forbidding look. The boys turned and went toward the Lord Warren . After Henry climbed nimbly over the rail, he looked toward the city. The schoolmaster was gone-Euclid was dead.

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In America he became identified with church sculpture and carved statutes for several large churches, among them St. Agatha's in Philadelphia. A statute of Witherspoon on the Witherspoon Building and one of William Penn on the Penn Mutual Insurance Building are among his works in Philadelphia. He did the carvings on the bannister in the Congres- sional Library in Washington. At eighty he can look back on a life filled with interesting experiences. 1 ESCAPE FROM EUCLID Marcia Sanders, 1938 LITTLE HENRY did not really have more trouble than any other person aboard the three masted schooner, Lord Warren, on the voyage from Ceylon. But at that time he was sure that he did. His mother's life must have been complicated enough, for she was in charge of her own five sons and six other children. Eleven children-on a voyage of three months and much of the time becalmed on the hot Indian Ocean! They were all missionaries' children, going to the States to aunts and uncles who could see to their educationsf' Charles, the eldest Alexander boy, wrote in his diary every day- Said our scripture verses and had tea. This creates a misleading impression. They were not such good, pious children as his diary indicated. They were real. Most of the passengers were either missionaries, or British Army officers and their families. When His Lordship missed the Trade Winds and it became evident that the ship might be becalmed indefinitely, the parents of the numerous children aboard the ship decided that the children should be engaged in an educational and profitable enterprise. This meant school! Henry's father was to teach the girls, an army officer, the boys. Mr. Alexander was a gentle man and a kindly teacher. Often good recitations were rewarded with stories. The Army officer, on the other hand, was a severe disciplinarian. He was a middle-aged, dyspeptic, egocentric person, sure that boys were offshoots of the devil and only to be held in check by the rigors of classical learning. Moreover, he was a bully, enjoying the petty dictatorship of his young charges. Now, Boggs, you will conjugate 'nolo,' present subjunctivef' Yes, sir. Nolim, nolis, nolit, nolimus, nolitis, nolint, Boggs responded brightly. Sit down, Alexander.-You, Charles! Translate Cicero for Archais. Section I, I. If. . . I have the ability . . . 0 jurors . . . I . . ., Charles started meekly. Sit down! Too slow! The glance of the man went to Henry, who sat quaking in his seat. Next we shall take geometry. Sanders ,... you, Henry! Have you succeeded in getting proposition one through your thick skull yet? No . . . N . . . No, sir!,' The seven-year-old grew paler as the steely eyes pierced through him. You dunce! What is the matter? I . . . I just can't see it, sir. It is illustrated in the book. Henry made no response. Is it not? Answer me! Have you no tongue? Must I use my strap? The low chuckle of the other boys grew into a loud laugh. And must I tell the rest of you again? Silence! Keep quiet! the red faced man shrieked at the class. Henry and the other little boys peered nervously over the tables in the improvised schoolroom. SandersMtake the same proposition for tomorrow . . . if you can see it, he added sarcastically. Henry did not say a word. The class continued. The boys were drilled in geometry,

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FUTILITY Betty Garvin, 1938 HE soft square of blue velvet formed a striking contrast to the splintered oak drawer of the antique trunk. The tiny pearl bitton on one end fascinated me, and after a short hesitation I pushed it. With a little je' 1 the lid sprang up, displaying a beautifully fragile locket on a pillow of ivory satin, its gli chain coiled around like yards and yards of snake ready to spring. Even though the pale blue sparks of the medium sized diamond in the back told me that I was an outsider, I pried open the locket. There in the ashes of a dead rose was a dream. A large stone house is well hidden among stately oaks. As one approaches the massive doorway one can see the stables where race horses are given the most meticulous care. In the impressive living room a young man and girl have a stolen interview. After pleading earnestly for a few minutes the man paces the floor dejectedly, pausing now and then to settle a point with the girl, weeping silently into a lace handkerchief. But jesse, I can't forsake my family and marry you. They need me. We have been threatened twice, once by the Confederates and once by the Yankees. Each believes us to be aiding the other side. We may even lose our home. Jesse James, the notorious outlaw! This was during the Civil Xlilar, long before the days of plundering. Long before, bitter by persecution, the james' boys had banded together into a sort of Robin Hood conspiracy. You have given me your answer. I must leave. I can't hope any longer. Good bye. With not another word he is gone-never to return. The girl does not move. Dully, she listens to his footsteps echoing along the hall, listening, it seems, to the years of her life gliding by. Life has put her upon a pinnacle, and suddenly she isn't there. Slowly she walks out to the kitchen. Her forehead is wrinkled with contemplation. She stops at the door to the pantry where the household supplies are kept, she gropes about in the semi-darkness until she comes to a bottle. She throws back her head, opens her mouth and tilts the bottle so that its contents catapult down her throat. She swallows convulsively and then chokes. Somewhere there is a thud as something falls. There is a gentle, steadying pressure on her shoulder, like a hand and then the gray light from the doorway goes black and the floor under her slides off the edge of the world into space. The dream faded and I was left holding only a tiny locket-the last remembrance of my great aunt, Burtie Sanders. HOW FATHER CAME FROM IRELAND WITH TWO POUNDS AND AN ADDRESS Patricia Crerand, 1 9 38 NOW fell on the little town of Mountain Tully with relentless persistence. Already it was boot-top high and still the white flakes curtained theiiiir. Fitting weatherf' Patrick thought, to be leaving home. Maybe he would never seertiie quiet town again dressed in its white finery. In his pocket were two pounds and an address-lvlr. Thomas A. Dougherty, Xlllest Eighteenth Street, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, United States of America. What could he do with two pounds? It wouldn't pay his passage to America, besides he needed the money in order to enter the United States. Perhaps he could work his way over. Yes, that was it-maybe they would let him enter the galley of the ship. Pushing steadily along, he stared at the road ahead of him. Only once did he turn his eyes from the road and look back-but no, he couldn't turn back now. He wasn't a coward. He had started, and he would keep on. Now he was passing the old smithy where he had often worked after school with his father. It was hard to leave. But he must. His father was dead-killed in the Boer Nllfat. His body was there in the little church cemetery that shone through the trees. The chalky tombstones were scarcely discernible against the snow.