Forest Hills High School - Forester Yearbook (Forest Hills, NY)

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UMy teacher asked me to write a composition on the Forest School. That was three weeics ago. I have just completed the 'final draft of the manuscript, and ai- though I am not superstitious, and do not believe in homework miracles, I must admit that Lady Fate has smiled down rather favorably upon me. ushe began her magic speii on a Xvednesday. I re- member it was a Wednesday, because it was the first time I had gone to the oth period Study Hail. On Monday and Tuesday I had been chasing after Mr. Schwartz, trying to get my Chem. 21320 changed to Chem. ZPSO. You see, I aiways balance equations bet- 4 f ter in the afternoon when fm fuiiy awake .... MR' R' MCINDOE uHowever, fm beginning to wander from my orig- inal story. As I was saying iym sitting in the Study Hail, minding my own business, not making a sound, just reading my Daily News, when Mr. Mcindoe f-- heys the head of the Forest School f-4 comes hurrying down the aisle. He pauses near the piano, says a few words to Mr. Swirsicy, and starts iooicing around the auditorium. , UBeiieve me, there must have been at least three hundred students in Study Hall that afternoon. Weil . . . he glances over two hundred and ninety-nine of them and then his gaze fastens on me. ' 'Tm spell-bound . . . petrified in my seat. Bly brain starts whirling very fast. I see pictures of a 'tiring squad taking aim at a strangely familiar Figure blind-folded against a high, gray wail. Somebody yells KFireV and a barrage of anecdotal cards come Hying out of the rifies. 'SMr. iVIcindoe's shadow tails across my face, and I am wondering how he ever found out about my cutting history. usuddeniy, I realize Mr. Mcindoe is talking to me, and his voice is quivering, almost pleading. S . . . and we need a Hail Niarshai in front GRADE ADVISERS of the Library. You'ii get ' Mondays and Fridays off- duty, and a pass out of the building for the period. Youyii receive service credits too. Fifteen credits for the term and one additional credit for every Freshman you find wandering through the haii without a pass . . . What do you say? Vviii you take the post? . . . ' FM the moment Tm COD- Miss G. FARLEY Miss M. wluviorr

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Y MXSS H. C-RXBBx1w -4: NRS. E. DEFAR STRATNE k ADNHNX AS SXST ANT GUKDANCE CH NRMAN KA l I GO. ADVXSER COLLEGE ADVXSER 1 MRS. H. McCANNA f MR. F. BARTLETY

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iused. Finally, I let out a deep sigh of relief and force a iittie smile. You see, 1 don't want him to get suspicious. Sure . . . sure, when do I start? U 'Tomorrow . . . y He hands me a white card. 'Show this Employment cer- tificate to the Captain of the Marshais and he'ii put your name on the pay-roll immediately., HThe following day, at the beginning of the 6th period, I take my post near the library door, and start reading my copy of U1-he Hail Marshaiis Code Book oi Ethics., The 'corridor is empty. Everything is quiet, peaceful. nAbout ten minutes later . . . it canyt have been more than ten minutes because I am stiii on the first page-I hear a strange noise, like loud chanting, coming from the vicinity of Mr. Keyes' room. H-1-he door opens very slowly, and a guy emerges into the corridor, his face hidden behind an open book, walking like he was hypnotized in a trance. I notice heys wearing a Senior hat, and he's chanting just like the other kids in the room. He's so engrossed in his book, he doesn't even pause to took into the library. in fact, he doesn,t even see me sitting near the door. Hes mumbling funny words too. S . . . then speak for yourseives. Ring the aiarum-beiii Niurder and treason! Banquo and Donaibain! Niaicoimi Awake! Shake off this downy sleep, deathis counterfeit . . . , 'tHe keeps on Walking down the corridor. I jump up from my chair. I donit know about any murder and treason, or Banko and Donald-Brain. All I know is the guy doesn,t show me his pass. nl tap him on the shouider. 'Hey, wheres your Pass? 'tHe ignores my question. K . . . VVhat's the business, that such a hideous trumpet caiis to pariey the sleepers of the house? Speaki Speaki . . . ' ui move up next to him. I notice heys wearing thick-rimmed spectacles, squatting tow on the bridge of his nose. SListen, wise guy, rm speaking and this is the business. VVhere,s your Pass? uHe pauses near the swinging doors and looks up over high spectacles, eyeing me coidiy. Ki beg your pardon? H 'VVhere's your Pass? H 'iVir. Keyes has sent me on a very urgent mission., H Kvvhereyre you going? H 'Are you a Republican? v 'Noi' 'tHe shifts his gaze from my face to the pastel drawings on the wait. SThen I am very sorry. I cannot reveal my destination., '5At this point, with the aid oi iogarithms, I start to mentally calculate how much trouble fm going to have getting this guy into Mr. Mcindoe's office. H KVViii you please come peacefully, or do I have to carry you? UI turn my head toward the Forest School office, indicating the general direc- tion. Suddeniy there is a rush of air, a cloud of white smoke, and pifift . . . the guy has vanished . . . disappeared . . . evaporated. Hes gone. MVVhen the smoke clears sufficiently. I notice a rectangular sheet of paper on the Hoor. itls an advertisement. it reads: 'THIS SMOKE-SCREEN HAS BEEN FURNISHED THROUGH THE COURTESY OF MR. ERNEST B. WILSON-RM. l53.' uDeiectediy, I return to my post in front of the library. The chanting has ceased from Mr. Keyes, room, the corridor is quiet again, and I am left contemplating what sequence of events will next evoive from the myriad of mysterious crevices of the Forest Schooif, -