Marshall High School - John Quill Yearbook (Rochester, NY)

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r si I Qu, iles? Q T . t . 5 X 'Q ' . af'a 2. N X Xi 2 2 XX, . - 5- A FISH Prize Poem Through tlzc rippling 'zciazfes it flashes Like a gleam of silver ' Into the clear, cool depths it splashes, Its Sllllllllg body all aquizfer. Quickly here and there it darts Exploring the mystic deep,- Then from its playful mates it parts To disturb the mermaids in their sleep. Through the green-dreazclzed 'water zfalleys It swims on and on,' In crystal blue alcozfes it dailies Until tlze nofvclty is gone. Up, up thro-ugh the sparkling deep I t sliimm-ers like a jewelg Its beauty it will forever keep, Cherislzed in that spangled pool. Isabella Stratton, I I I -Z. tw enty-'nine

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of the broomstick and a kitchen knife. .But instead of the knife hitting you, a piece of ice I had in my hand-my right hand steadying the knife-'sliced' you, and the knife only carved up the mast a bit. But your foggy head misinterpreted signals, and you thought you were killed. Quite a shock, naturally, and you came out of it. The younger man turned toward the doctor with a twisted grin on his face. Screaming wildly, Get that Heinie, the dirty rat, he jerked his hand out of his pocket leveled the revolver he always carried, at the doctor, and fired all six shots rapidly into the body of his companion. Laughing crazily he' stumbled forward toward the body. But, with a loud creak, the mainsail whizzed across the deck again. Poor crazed Bill was knocked overboard, unconscious. And there are sharks in the waters of the southern Pacific. A steamer sailing majestically along its course noted that a yawl nearly in its path failed to return the pilot's warning. All on board were completely mystified to learn the results of the investigation which followed. A man was found on board, dead, with six bullets in his body. No one else was aboard, and the only gun on the boat contained six unfired cartridges. THOMAS ENRIGHT, Il-l --.oL1Qi-u--- Advertisements OULDN'T it be strange to open a magazine or newspaper and Find no advertisements? Yet it would be sad too, for what is more in- ' vigorating than the funny but absurd ads that are in these papers or books. Perhaps the best known of any advertise- ment is the much talked of T1lCj'FIGHgllCd-'Zt'lLC7l- I-sat-dotwz-to-play one. That really is funny. The witty person will go on and on trying to Find or originate a good ending to it. So far he hasn't succeeded. If you are trying to be the life of the party, pull that one. It fits in at any occasion and always draws a dirty look. Another sort of ad that always gets a laugh is the usual letters from Mrs. Asparagus on how she weighed 295 pounds and couldn't lose an ounce until Mrs. Carrots told her about the famous I lllaku Slim Pills. Now she has fallen away to only 294. Or it may be some- thing like this: A picture of an old man with a flowing white beard and numerous wrinkles, or should I say crow's feet, is seen on one side of the page. On the other side we see youth in all its glory depicted by a Pepsodent grin, beautiful curly hair, an arrow collar, and a rosy complexion. This is the some man after one night's sleep on Sleep-Eze Beal Springs. We turn the page, and our eyes behold a gorgeous blond creature, in amoreigorgeous twenty-eight evening-gown, on her hands and knees mop- ping the kitchen Hoor, and on her face is the patient and beatific smile of an angel. Under the picture is written VVhy let mopping be a drudge? Simple buy an Eye-Catclmm Dirt Mop. Even your best friendsbwill mop your floor for you then. Soap advertisements are as funny as a Micky-Mouse Comedy. One finds Mrs. XX-'hite hanging out a beautiful snow-white wash in her backyard. Over the fence we catch a glimpse of Mrs. Black staggering under the load of a smoky-toned wash in an old battered basket. Here we also spy several holes in the good family linen. In the next scene, Mrs. Xlfhite rushes to the gate, beckons to Mrs. Black and says, My dear Mrs. Black, what a dirty wash you have. See how white mine it. Next month, you must try Dip-fmd- If's-Clmii-Soap. I always use it. The more you look, the more you laugh, and so you continue on and on through the book, forgetful of the thrilling murder 'story you started to read. And if you feel ill on a streetcar, just look at the advertisements of soup, soap, tooth-paste, fountain-pens, re- frigerators, Hoor-wax, linoleum, molasses, typewriters, chewing-gum, F lit, and corn- plasters. You'll feel much better. .. Dorothy Leonard, .IV-2.

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Camping The camp-fire dies, than silence deep as death, The darkness pushing down upon the Iandf' -Bashford. Prize Essay I-L? as camp ng out of doors with only lx 52 a roomx tent for shelter There qgji, j 'fi is a primitive wildness which is re- AI I leased-the sense of Wanderlust pervades. Previously our thoughts dwelt on duffle bags, moccasins, woolen shirts, newly- sharpened hatchets, and haversacks in disre- pair. Now that we are in the glorious woods we long to feel moss-covered logs beneath the grip of our moccasins, where sunlight dapples through the leaves and spots the forest floor with gold. VVe have the urge to plod through undergrowth and ferns that sway in shadowy ranks, we long to hear the wood-thrush call, and smell again the smoke of the hickory fires. There is a tugging at our hearts-a hunger for the open road, for the solace of the blazing stars, impersonal yet somehow near, as the camp-fire embers dull to gray, and the smoke-spirals vanish overhead. I cannot praise summer without a thought of other seasons, for they are equally enjoy- able in my experience. The late fall months are ideal hiking and camping months. The multi-colored line of nature is at its highest splendor. Every boy delights in the adventure of a hike into the woods. He loves to go exploring, to climb hills, to spy out unknown territory. I revel in hemlock trees bowed down with glistening diaclems 3 tracking in the powdery snowg winter gloaming, ethereally blue: the rush across frosty fields on skies: and fishing through the jade-green ice. These remembrances are like the metallic rasp of the meadow-lark at dawn-they live on and en- rich our lives. I love the trail. It may be deep in winter snow, or crisp with.bronze autumn leaves. It is always the out-of-doors that laughs with sun and weeps with slanting summer rain--that knows not calendar nor time, but' lives forever in my heart. I other pastime thrills me so much 25114 3 .Q T16 .' - V sf. thirty Camping is the simple life reduced to actual practise, as well as the culmination of the out-door life. Camping has no great popularity today because men have the idea that it is possible only after an expensive journey to the wildernessg and women that it is inconvenient, dirty, and dangerous. These are errors. They have arisen because camp- ing as an art has not been understood. When intelligently followed, camplife must take its place as a cheap and delightful way of living, as well as a mental and physical savior of those strained or broken by the grind of the over-busy world. Coupled with camp-life is the enthralling camp-Fire. What is camp without a camp-fire? No camp at all, but a chilly place in a land- scape. where some people happen to have some things. VVhen First the brutal anthrapoicl stood up and walked we had man. The great event was symbolized by the lighting of the first campfire. For millions of years our race has seen in the fire the emblem of light, warmth, pro- tection, friendly gathering, and council. The center of ancient thought was in the hearth and fireside. The home tie itself was weak- ened with the waning of the home-fire. Not in the steam radiator can we find the spellg not in the water coil or even the gas log-they do not reach the heart. Only the sacred fire of wood has power to touch and thrill the chords of the memory. When men sit together at the camp-fire they seem to shed all modern form and poise, to hark back to the primitive -to meet as man to man. Your campfire partner wins your love, or hate, mostly your loveg and having camped in peace together, there exists a lasting bond of union-however wide your worlds may be apart. John VVilcox, iv-2.