West Rochester High School - W Yearbook (Rochester, NY)

Page 10 text:

,Xi l I X, skeins ff The water came just three inches below his ears. The beach was turned into a golf course which was mostly hazards and the faculty be- gan testing their stance. When the clouds of sand settled, Miss Gibbs had dropped her meadow-marble into the hole, winning first prize. Miss Fisher won the championship in the nail-driving contest. Teachers with bandaged thumbs may be pointed out as also-ran's. The refreshment committee demonstrated how the lunch room should be run and served one hundred and six ravenous teachers with thirty-five pounds of red hots. Mr. Edwards declared, as he was leaving West High School, that he intended to be the life of the party. He gave up in despair, when Mr. Kenyon clinched the title with his water act. ' Q Barnaby's Youth We were discussing the supernatural, old Barnaby and I. He tapped the ashes from his pipe into the open fireplace and volun- teered this tale: When I was a lad, of twenty or twenty- one, I was as wild as they make them. People are bound to reform the younger generation of today, but let me tell you, son, some of these perfect guys, who are always raving about the indecencies and vices of the modern youth, have very faint recollections of their own younger days, especially, when you con- sider that when I was young there had been no Volstead Act! As I was saying, I was a -?- raiser. The town where I lived, although only a small country place, possessed a very good saloon. It was a fine place for a young fel- low like me to go to, but I spent most of my time there. Sometimes I took a little more than was good for me. Such recollections make my mouth water! Well-one night during summer, I started for home. My course took me past the village cemetery. There is nothing pleasant about passing a cemetery in the dead of night any- way. Our village had board walks. NVhile I was strolling along with more or less apprehen- sive feelings about that cemetery, I heard an unholy racket behind me. Something was walking behind me. Every step it took came down with a clampety clump- clump. Then I could hear something jangling, like the clinking of chains. For a fellow who was in the unnatural condition that I was, it had a very ghastly sound. N ot to say that I believe in ghosts-I think it is all nonsensical superstition, to tell you the truth, but I do confess at that time I was thoroughly frightened., I could feel cold tremors rushing over my body as if an' icy hand had seized my vitals in its grip. I dared to look back. The apparition which confronted me was too much for my fast-ebbing courage to face. I saw a long, white figure, carrying a light, and its eyes stared at me with a kind of a ghostly phos- porescent look. With one yell, I raced home as fast as I could. Here my friend stopped and laughed. Con- tinuing, he said, Well son, about a week after- wards the mystery was solved. I never told anyone about my experience because as I said, I was drunk that night and I really didn't know whether I had the D. T.'s or not. Some neighbors came over one night, and it seems that the same night that I had that fright was the one when their colt broke his chain. Foolishly enough, they had taken a long chain and staked him out and had for- gotten to put him in the barn that evening. Of course the creature ran away. 'lThe fellow who owned him heard the colt running away and he clambered out of bed in his night-shirt and grabbed a lantern. I-Ie went out just the way he was and caught the colt. . So you see the ghost that I saw was really nothing but our neighbor, leading home his horse. The clanking chain, the horse's eyes reflecting the light of the lantern and the night- shirt certainly made a pretty good-looking ghost. But I've been on the water wagon ever since!

Page 9 text:

,X I l I f, f sgecwsah' C said, Imagine that, Father saying such a thing at such an important time as this. Harold stood stupidly in the middle of the Hoor, hat in hand. Mother looked at him pityingly and with a sigh, went quietly into the study. She argued eloquently with Father. Father was obdurate and stuck to I'll think about it. Fifteen minutes passed. At last Mother's earnestness won and Father reluct- antly gave in. VVell mother, he said, 'KI guess you know what is best for the boy. Let him go tonight for I-Ier sake but he must be more considerate of us after thisf, Harold was still standing in the middle of the floor when Mother came out. She told him to go and have a fine time. He did not move and his mother thought perhaps he had not heard. Finally he turned toward her and, with a serious face, kissed her. As he was leaving the house, the telephone rang. The call might be for him so he waited. It was!!! I-Ie ran into the house, grabbed the receiver and yelled, Hello ! The familiar, adorable voice, which answered him, brought him out of his lethargy. Ch, Harold, I'm so sorry. Aunt Nell is sick and I have to stay home with her. So I can't go to the dance. I'm terribly sorry! I-Iarold was startled. But he determined to see her tomorrow, if not tonight. W'ill you go to the theater with me tomor- row night? The girl considered. Therr she answered him. ' I'll think about it. ' ,ll....l--.i- , , , Faculty Holds Live Picnic p UR beloved faculty, succumbing to the lure of the hot dog and peanut hunt, put on a real picnic at Mr. Naramore's cottage, Windsor Beach, September the Thir- teenth. Abandoning eighth periods and other bind- ing duties, they formed a parade and drove to Windsor Beach. The picnic was started with baseball and tennis. Mr. Spouse, though he can sing the high ones,', found it impos- sible to hit the high ones which Mr. Pultz sent over the plate and fanned three times. Mr. Boutwell, striding boldly to the plate, cast dignity to the ground Cin the form of his coatj and before the eyes of the amazed on- lookers, smote the ball most severely. The ball flew many yardsiwhilst Mr. Boutwell cantered around the bases to make the only home-run. Then the male members lined up and began removing sheets from a clothes-line. Mr. Meinhardt and Mr. Bennett showed signs of previous training and easily won first and second prizes respectively. Miss Parker and Miss Storey made a suc- cessful trip in Mr. Naramore's canoe. When WW-fs - 1 ,+- fi-if f X gf Z-.-X Q ii Y.. Lf I 4?-' 'N D 1 E-X-, J HELLO MEN! ureu. oo-r ol' rn' Gmac:- inn-HA X -1. M -,M Q l S x 'Y--' H '73 MM- ' - 5.: E W 'gf' 'G-11 '- f- MoneS 'E-:G ,A ' 'z-4, cuma me wlwrs ' new AN, NW HE'5 TRYING ns ns cwmsg To Swwl' TAKWC' HAMA A gnu . Q? I 1, . they reached shore, Mr. Kenyon declared his intention of braving the breakers of Ontario single handed. I-Ie began industriously shov- ing water behind him and, when he reached a smooth surface, calmly turned the canoe over.

Page 11 text:

.X i I f X, BSQCIDEAQX' 4 Purify the Genesee Louis PUL'rz OT long ago, as three friends were cross- ing the river by way of Driving Park Avenue bridge, one of them enthusias- tically exclaimed, There is one of the most beautiful scenes that I have ever had the privi- lege of beholdingf' He referred to the View to the northward down the gorge of the river with which every resident of Rochester is familiar and of which no one ever tires. A companion responded, Yes, that is a wonderful view of the Genesee but l'l1 almost guarantee that no self-respecting fish lives in that dirty water. The third individual then related that the water of the river at that point was so con- taminated with waste from the industrial plants of the city that his canoe had had to come in contact with it for only a very short time to have its paint stripped off. . A beautiful scene? Yes, to the eye of the observer who does not realize the truth, it is one of the most beautiful views of a Wonder- fully attractive stream. But our own dear Genesee loses very much of her charm, in- deed seems to lose that very beauty and love- liness that she actually has, when one realizes that the river is, like so many of the streams and rivers of America, a badly polluted stream. The Genesee north of Court Street is beauti- ful at a distance only, for to the near observer her water is foul-looking and evil-smelling and the bed of the river is covered with a coating of slime. The presence of such con- ditions does not make for true beauty. Let us turn back if we can and try to picture the Genesee as it was a century ago. We may be wrong about our conception but We think that we should see a river of pure and ,wonder- fully clear water teeming with fish of the sporty black bass and speckled trout gradeg a river flowing full and steady in wet and dry weather alike between banks heavily forested down to the water's edge, a river of magnifi- cent falls and wonderful cascades and swift- running places. if To-day we still have what our friend and many others speak of as our lovely Genesee. The river is famed near and far. Her loveli- ness is even sung. But we must have forgotten or else we have not realized her transcending loveliness of a century ago. This is so because we of America have accepted, as a thing that must inevitably be, the ruthless march of civilization. We have come to think that anything that is done in the name of civilization is justified. Civili- zation may cut down our forests, and may dry up our lakes and streams. Civilization has in many parts of America so poisoned the waters of her lakes and streams that they have al- ready become a menace to human life. VVe haveaccepted it all and have justified too much of it and call places beautiful that are eye- sores in comparison with what Nature origi- nally made them. Let us grant that much of this destruction was necessary. Some of our forests had to go and some of the natural beauty of mountain and lake and stream had to be sacrificed. But let us not think that all that has been done in civilization's name is to be condoned. In par- ticular, let us not think that all that has been done to lessen the real loveliness of the Gene- see during the century past was really neces- sary. Least of all has it been necessary to give industry the privilege of poisoning the river to the point where fish-life can not exist in it. The forests that meant so much to the charm of the whole valley of the Genesee are gone forever. The full steady flow of the river is gone along with the forests. These things can not be restored nor can the river's water- falls be restored to their former glory. One thing can be done, however. The terrible CContinued on Page 235 T. rf. J