Clifton Springs High School - Cliftonian Yearbook (Clifton Springs, NY)

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THE CLIFTONIAN S President’s Address OUR MOTTO “Work conquers all.” In the first place, I must explain our attitude in adopting this motto. It was not because, as you might suppose, we like work better than play. But rather, because we preferred amusement to the school grind, our good judgments toid us that we must put work first. From the multiplication tables to the studying of resonance of sound, every step of progress has meant work-our Junior play, our Senior play, our selling of holly, our dances, and in general all our enterprises which resulted in our Washington trip and our graduation. For example, last year when we were Juniors, we borrowed a punch bowl to use at our Junior Prom. Everything went all right until it came time to clean the bowl. The girls worked so hard on the bowl, that for some unknown reason, it broke, and we had to work harder to get money to pay for the article. At last, we are about to be graduated from high school, and we are ready to enter into life, either in schools or in work. Everyone knows that no person can be successful unless he works hard to obtain success. Do you believe that George Washington would have been fitted to be the Father of our country, if he hadn’t worked hard to obtain the ability of leadership? Common sense tells us that it was necessary for Washington to accomplish much before real responsibility came to him. Almost one hundred years later Lincoln was struggling desperately with the Civil War. He was trying to preserve the union which Washington had established. Could Lincoln have met this crisis successfully if he hadn’t worked hard to maintain his better judgment over the judgment of men of lesser foresight? Work—mental and physical—has made great leaders. Do you remember that old saying, “Form your habits when you are young and they will remain with you”? We have tried to form good habits during our school life, and we intend to form more in the future. We believe in working hard and not giving up until the job is finished. We believe that in following the motto of our class through life, we will become successful in the end. CLAUDE B. GOODMAN THE REAL FOOTBALL PLAYER We are always hearing the praises sung, Of some backfield man who makes a long run, We hear how he charged thro’ a broken line, Or scored when there was left but a little time. We hear that one made a sixty-yard gain, And another played in the driving rain; We hear their praises all the time— But we never hear of the men in the line. We never hear of those who don’t run with the ball, We hear of their praises not at all. But they’re in there fighting and giving their best, While the praises always go to all the rest— But they’re the men who fight for all they’re worth, And who get their faces shoved in the turf, They’re opening up the holes in the line, That make it possible for the backs to shine. So when you read of some great back-field star Just give the linesman a part Of the praise that justly belongs to him. While he’s in there taking it on the chin. ROBERT WALTERS, Eng. I Captain Richardson—I thought you said you could catch flies. Ed—I did, but that last one must have been a bee.

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8 THE CLIFTONIAN oozy clay. We are beginning our Sophomore year. Our first chance at Dramatics comes at Thanksgiving time when we present a pageant. Of course, we are all struck with stage fright, but nevertheless, we manage a program and all live to hear the criticism. We spend the greater part of this year sitting in the harbor (Design Class) watching the new boat C. S. H. S. being built. Oh yes, Mr. Williams makes us clean off the Design table so he can decorate it with his pencil! June 1929—June Regents are passed. Wa are in the home port a while before we go on another stretch of our cruise. Juniors All Aboard! September 5, 1929—We are now beginning our Junior Year’s voyage. And in what splendor? The new C. S. H. S. steamship sails out of harbor. November 27, 1929—What Ho! ye lubbers and swabs! The day of Thanksgiving is here. What treasures are ye thankful for? Aye! Rich experience which shall make the days to come more full of joys and gladness than ever jewels rare and costly could do. December 25, 1929 — The icy north winds howl exultantly under the somber splendors of the sky. Landward leads the guide. The Christmas chimes ring out. Join in the revelry and the great feast of the voyage. The annual Christmas banquet in honor of the Seniors and Faculty and given by the Juniors is at hand. January 20, 1930—The dreaded Regents are again upon us. But long experience on this treacherous sea makes us unafraid. The storm will pass. May 29, 1930—There is sport in the fo’c’sle. The Junior sailors give a Junior Prom and later present “Singers in the Dark” which we must admit was all in the dark. We return to the home port. The Regents no longer terrorizes our crew. We are hardened sailors, expecting storms and welcoming danger, with its chance for glory. We gather the Seniors and the Faculty for a trip to Owasco. Then we have the honor of ushering at the graduation of the Class of 1930. Then we go on a cruise to Canandaigua Lake, where a most en- joyable week end is had by all. Soon come rest and the home port, ere we embark on the last long cruise. Ship Ahoy, Seniors! September 1930 — The “Wanderlust” instinct prevails again and the stately Seniors are now the commanding officers of the less experienced crew. Obedient to the call of our Captain, we forge ahead into the billowy path of glory. November 21, 1930—Forward on the main deck sit the crew enjoying “Nothing But the Truth.” The ship at anchor for a brief space, rolls gently with the breeze. We sail, and who shall say when we shall return? April 3-10, 1931 — Shore leave in Washington, D. C. But the days are altogether too short and soon they are gone and we feel as if we had been caught in a whirlpool. June, 1931—The journey’s done. The hold is filled with treasures rich and rare. No longer sail we as one crew. But may each Senior ever, sail o’er smiling seas and reach a fairer port because of our voyages together. DOROTHY BROWN A NICKEL’S VOYAGE A nickel once went on a voyage, Around the world it went, In fact, it saw so many things, To all it can’t give vent. From Washington the trip did start, And across the sea to Spain, From there it passed thru Gibralter Strait, And on to win its fame. The Hindoos passed the coin around, Though its newness soon wore off, Through a thousand Chinese hands it passed, But its pride was still held aloft. A monkey lost it in the sand, But it soon appeared in a sailor’s hand; When the sailor reached the United States, He lost the coin at the Golden Gates. JEAN VANDERHOOF, Eng. I

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10 THE CLIFTONIAN THE STAFF Regena Remery........Editor-in-Chief Elvere Buchan..............Associate Editor Doris McCormack........Sports Editor Wilbur DeVall...................Joke Editor Dorothy Brown........Senior Reporter Howard Roth..........Junior Reporter Agnes Adams......Sophomore Reporter Mary Tomlinson... Freshman Reporter Parker Wright j Business Managers Sidney McLouth The Staff wishes to thank the merchants and business men of Clifton Springs for the loyal support they have given us by their advertising. We thank also the members of the typewriting class who assisted us so ably. THE CLOCK Oh! Clock, don’t you ever long to be able to speak and tell about the scenes of humor, love, hate, robbery, murder, strife, and tragedy that you have witnessed? But, no matter what happens, you calmly sit on the shelf and slowly tick-tock, tick-tock off the seconds. If a man is sentenced to be hanged at a certain time, you never slaken your pace, but slowly, steadily, and in an unconcerning manner tick-tock your way to the hour of doom. Have you no pity? Why couldn’t you have chosen that opportunity to lose time instead of choosing to work so perfectly? If you would only show some mercy once in awhile you might be able to save many an innocent person from the electric chair. But no, you must do your duty at that particular time if at no other time. What does it matter to you if an innocent life is sacrificed? It doesn’t effect you in any way. Tick tock! Tick tock! Tick tock! An elderly man is sitting with his back to the window, reading. The window is cautiously opened—a short, stooped, ugly looking man slowly, quietly and carefully enters the room, and cautiously creeps toward the unsuspecting reader. Look! what is that the stranger is doing? He is standing in back of the elderly man’s chair— why he is raising a club and is about to strike the unsuspecting man. Oh! why don’t you cry out a warning? Hurry before it is too late! The deed is done. The stranger has accomplished his purpose, and—all because you would not cry out, but chose to go tick-tock, tick-tock. But, what else could you expect from a clock? RUTH F. GRIMSLEY DREAMERS Dreamers are like flowers, For when they are happy They lift their faces and their hearts grow light, As they sing their joyous songs of delight; And the sun beams down like a proud dear father And he, like the other dear Father, Gathers them in to his heart. But when they are sad Their beauty is concealed by a graceful droop, The sun beams down, but all in vain, They hang their heads And Father Sun cannot bring Them from their pain. Then old Father Time appears, And, after a time, dries up their tears, And the world looks bright again. Now, sometimes they feel like taking .a flight— Flying, flying, freely flying, A.way, away from the weary world, God seems to be calling them, To a free bright land, Where all the glory of happiness is unfurled. Then they are cheered, And their world looks bright again. LUCY ROTH, Eng. I Mr. Spencer—Sidney, why is the climate of the southern hemisphere more moderate than that of the northern? Sidney — Because it contains more water. Lovett—There is less land.