Phillips High School - Mirror Yearbook (Birmingham, AL)

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The M i r r o r much for granted. We want to give back to her, to restore her resources, so that her gifts will never he exhausted. She has seen many generations come and go. Each generation seems to grow weaker and wiser. In growing wiser, we use more to our advantage the things that this Mother holds in store for us. In growing weaker, we do not have to work and strive as hard as previous generations did, because the machine has taken the place of hand labor. When we have made the best of our days, and time is for us no more, our souls will pass to a sweet repose, and our bodies will find rest at last with the Mother of us all. —George Murray THE PROFESSOR The sun was blazing out of a clear blue sky on a hot July morning. Breezes were playing hide and seek among the tall stalks of corn, rustling the broad green leaves as they played. In the barnyard the chickens were still seeking their morning meal. One old rooster had attained his ambition to be a second Lindbergh and had flown to the edge of the barn roof; looking very much like a wcathervane. 'The overburdened peach trees sent a tantalizing odor from their ripening fruit. The red-topped clover, daisies, and long 'hoots of grass in the wide meadow rippled like waves on the ocean. Coveys of quail were feeding in the grass; a woodchuck was lying in the sun with ready eye for fox or dog. Down the path came the professor with his net in one hand, a jar in the other, making for a rainbow tinted butterfly that was leading him a merry chase. The professor was from the university. He was spending a month of his vacation in this heaven-for-anlent-studcnts of botany. He was a tall, skinny fellow, with thin hair, and eyes that had a far-away look in them. As he chased the butterfly down the meadow, he had a fisherman’s basket slung over his shoulder in which he placed small shrubs for his collection. In his left hand he carried a fruit iar in which was a varied assortment of trophies from grasshoppers and dull colored beetles, to richly colored butterflies. In his right hand he carried a butterfly net. He was tripping along as gingerly as his long shaky legs would permit, chasing his prize round and round the meadow. At least he caught it on a rock. Carefully he eased it into the jar ami turned to sec another flitting across the meadow toward the shade of a clump of trees. Entering the shaded area the professor was delighted to find a little pond formed by a trickling brook. He paused to rest in the shade of the trees. Floating on the pond were water cress and water lilies galore. There on a big green pad were large ones small ones—and Oh! such a perfect specimen right in the middle of the pond! Without hesitating the professor deposited his equipment at the water’s edge and started creeping on hands and knees over the very narrow footbridge. Reaching the nearest point of approach, he paused to steady the rocking walk-way and make one swift stroke to get the tropin . ’‘1 think 1 can reach it—careful now— confound this walk, can’t it stay steady—a little bit more—not quite—Oh! curses!”— Splash! Scaring tadpole, frogs and fish as well as himself, he plunged into the pool. The pool, not being over three feet deep, left the professor’s head seemingly sitting on the water. The expression on his face was of intense horror, for as he had sunk into the water a long cold creature had become entwined round his foot. He had often heard of the swiftness with which the venom of a water moccasin acted. The scene [20]

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'I' It E M IRROR “The New Realism” We have written about some of the people and things we see every day. We have tried to uncover some of their hidden glamour” and find the wonder in ordinary lives around us. JOHN PUBLIC Mix the traits of all the heroes and villains of history, literature and the Bible and the result is John Public. Ask him to help distribute food to the needy and he will do it. but in his enthusiam he will break half the traffic laws. He agrees with you that peace is the best policy and really means it. but say something about our rights being infringed upon in a foreign country and you’ll have a bloodthirsty demon on your bands. He goe- to church on Sunday, a devout Christian. On Mondav, however, with his sins forgiven, he unthinkingly starts stacking them up again for the next Sunday. He will talk about Freedom of Speech” and Liberty”, and five minutes later, prompted bv a devout patriotism, will say that all the dirty Communists should he jailed or run out of the country. His candidate for office i positively a demi-god until their views differ. Then the candidate has sold out to Wall Street or is going to turn the country over to the Facists. It is hard for him to understand that what is for his own good is sometimes bad for the country as a whole. He hears rhe burden of the slate and knows it. and has no false modesty about it. He wants everyone to understand that he should, therefore, get the most benefit from the government. He is generally conceited to this extent. Corruption in city government should he stamped out.” he says while talking to a friend who has just fixed a parking ticket for him. He did not mean to break the law, and this, to him, makes bis an individual case. His vote carries plenty of power and you could not buy it with money. But promise him certain advantages and you have his support. In his own eves he is not selling his vote but is voting for what is best for the majority, for he says that his good and the common good are the same. He really means well, hut sometimes does not understand well the questions on which he votes. 'Phis man of qualities is the much-spoken-of common man in whose fairly capable, well-meaning hands the welfare of the country rests. —Laurence Wesson EARTH MOTHER Our Earth Mother’s face i wrinkled. The rains beating upon her have caused deep rut and gorges, and she shews the signs of age by the deeply cut canyons and the long winding rivers. Her hair has been shorn by the woodsman with his ax and saw. We depend upon this Mother Earth for our living, and for our luxuries. Her once bountiful natural resources have been wasted and destroyed by the early settlers because they were deceived by the vastness thereof. Now we arc realizing what it means to he thrifty with the resources which she has left in her depleted state. Miners arc digging her heart out day by day so as to make possible our skyscrapers, automobiles, ships, railroads, and other things which are made of iron and steel. Although she still holds much in store for those who care to explore and to build, and is as liberal as ever, it is because we appreciate her that we no longer take her gifts too [19]

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T If E I I R R O R of a long black car carrying a rectangular box draped in black with flowers on top and a long procession of automobiles slowly following behind flashed across his inward eye. As suddenly as he had plunged into the pool the professor reacted. Up came his foot. Holding it aloft off slid a sliniv, slippery, slithering eel. —Joe McKinney “UNCLE BOB” Just how my grandfather came to be called “Uncle Bob” 1 cannot say. On one cold, dreary morning with the stirring sounds of the Civil War in the air, he was christened Robert Lewis. After a few years, when their “pride and joy” un-cautiously pressed his tiny sticky fingers over the newly polished piano bench, his proud parents simply shouted, Boh!” But this is not rile whole significance of the name. It means more than a name to his family and friends. To the latter it symbolizes friendliness and a large open heart to every one in Williamson County, be his station high or low. 'They love his dry wit and his lengthy courthouse discussions on politics. They know him to be the essence of honesty and sincerity, his word his bond, albeit he is the best sheep and cattle trader of the surrounding hills of Franklin, an historical little town in Middle Tennessee. Though he dons long-legged flannels on the first brisk days of November, not even the frequent snow storms and downpours hinder his usual daily trip to town. No less than he, would the men of the town miss their conversations of the lowering of tobacco prices, the women miss their friendly chat and bit of kidding, and the children miss their treat at the corner drug store. Often when one of the farm helpers is not available to crank up the old Model “T and drive him into town, he, after carefully brushing the lint from his coat and hat, starts out on foot down the muddy road on his seven-mile journev. But not once has lie walked even a mile before be is most obligingly given a ride by I om Henderson or Jim Jones. They all recognize him the moment his slighly bent yet sturdy figure comes into view. Almost before he completely descends from the running board, he is greeted by someone either needful of advice on some farm problem, someone eager to hear a bit of his home-spun philosophy. or some wife wishing to ask for a loan to tide her famil over until her husband recovers from his spell of rheumatism. His rea.lv rcplv to “Thanks, Uncle Bob, tor that advice,” or “My load seems lifted after a word with you,” or I II pay you back as soon as I am able,” is onlv a gruff, “Fiddlesticks!” [21] —Mary Jane Carl