Central High School - Aglaia Yearbook (Manchester, NH)

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IANUARY AGLAIA OF THE ORACLE 17 with the watch in her hand. I feel a liitle nervous, my body grows tense, my neck is already stiff from watching the copy whizh I have not yet started to type, and my little finger is exhausted from pressing so long on that shift--still, I hear no signal to start. After a heated debate with myself, I relax just for a second-surely it won't take any longer than that to collect my nerves, give my machine a last minute inspection, and see that all will be Well during my forth- coming struggle with the control of that which claims to be a typewri-- Start!', Oh, now for that shift-where is it? My copy-it's on the floor! I have it back in position now and Hnd myself playing the hit or miss game once more. But it seems my troubles are not over yet-this is the second time I have been obliged to get my keys out of a badly entangled huddle. Oops! I almost forgot my instructions about keeping my eyes on the copy, but I've been hearing bells rin ging-could one of them have been mine? No, not yet, of course. Perhaps mine will be the next, then remembering that good old saying, There's nothing like a changef' I fumble for the return lever, and after due wandering my hand strikes it. That's odd, it didn't seem to move very far-I look up just this once-Horrors! I wasn't even half way through the- Timel The last step in one of these so-called tests is reading it through. I rub my eyes and read again-in vain. Either I have be- come cross-eyed, or I can't read. ' ' That bewildered expression 1T1uSt have drawn attention, for I am surrounded by my most considerate classmates. They tell me that I could have done worse. In typing for ten minutes on the wrong row of keys, I wrote three out of fifteen words correctlyl ALICE KYRAGAKIS i SOUTH SEA SAGA Night settled down upon the island and relieved the earth of its stifling heat. The grassy swale lay thick and luxuriant under the tall trees and the hills assumed dim, monstrous shapes in the velvet darkness. The night was without wind, but occasional vagrant airs stirred the treetops. Rhythmic waves beat upon the shore in stately succes- sion under the blazing stars above. Mouldy smells rose from the dark earth and filled the night air with their pungent odor. In the eastern sky the faint glow of a coming moon shone. Night seemed to hold its breath.- VIRGINIA FULLER LET'S PLAY ALADDIN I wish I had a watermelon, I wish I had a Watermelon, chanted Iohnny as the rest of his friends looked on eagerly. Iohnny was in the process of smoothing down the top of an oily lantern with his two chubby little palms, for this lantern was sup- posed to be magic. By rubbing it one's wish came true and after the gang Qas Iohnny's small group of friends liked to term them- selvesj had noted what to expect, Iohnny began to rub. He had been rubbing and chanting now for more than fifteen minutes, but then, no one had ever specified the time necessary for the wish to come true. Iohnny had even suggested that it might take about an hour of rubbing to get the wish working and then about another hour for the water- melon to appear. So there they all were, sitting Indian fashion in a circle around Iohnny land, of course, the lantern. Each boy Qthere were about sevenj was eager and tense, hoping, at any moment, to see a water- melon drop from the sky, for where else could a magic watermelon come from. At First Iohnny chanted just above a whisper,

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16 IANUARY AGLAIA OF THE ORACLE He has just finished his harvesting. In the background is a battered old farmhouse, worn by weather and time. In the yard, a young boy, clothed in dungarees and an old straw hat, is completing his chores. I stop a minute to wish that I were an artist. Passing the farmhouse, I came to a grassy meadow and a cattle-worn path. Be- yond appear the tops of millions of trees. The leaves are just beginning to turn and never before have I seen so many beautiful colors. I don't believe that one could find greater beauty anywhere. Coming home, these pictures are still with me and I Wonder-if the country folk appreciate the beauty which surrounds them. BETTY BURPEE THE HERO Once upon a time, As the legend always goes, There was a daring cowboy With many friends and foes. He rode a spotted pony, Wore chaps upon his knees, His blouse was multi-colored, His attire one to please. There also was a badman Named Jasper Q. MacKnightg Our hero went to get him On a dark and stormy night. He rode through all the bad lands With his pistol butts in view, His face was set in hardness As he thought of Iasper Q. He urged his horse on faster, He was eager for the fray, But as he turned the corner He heard somebody sayg Now reach right for the ceiling, My high an' mighty franlg Don't think you're smart enough to fool This here super'or man! Now our hero started thinking Of some way to play his hand, When there came a sound of moving And a shuffling in the sand. Then someone started breathing, So the robber turned to see, Our hero took a sideward leap And got behind a tree. He drew his gun for shootingi The bullet straight and true Had found its mark, the robber went Forever out of view. Our hero went to thank his friend, The latter not in sight, Our hero called, Who helped me out? With all his strength and might. He heard a little stirring, A moving in the grassg Out from behind a big old rock A bullfrog jumped at last. Our hero looked and then he smiled, At last he made a vow, He would reward the frog, because He was the hero now. DOROTHY LANG ROOM 300 This is a test for accuracy, not for speed. I think I've heard that phrase before, but each time I seem to profit less. My mind is made up today, though. I shall turn out a perfect copy of the printed matter. I am ready-in position, I look around for the last time. The teacher is standing

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18 IANUARY AGLAIA or THE ORACLE but as time went on and nothing happened his wee five year old treble rose to a mighty volume. He must make sure that he would be heard. A short distance away Mr. Katz, pro- prietor of a fruit store, heard this strange chanting as he worked. He investigated. Soon a big watermelon rolled from his fruitstand into the small circle of absorbed youngsters. Such joy, such delight, such dancing as that which occurred the moment the young boys saw the watermelon, Mr. Katz had never seen. From his secluded hide-a-way in the store, he chuckled as he heard young Iohnny saying proudly, I al- ways thought I was as good as Aladdin, and now I know it. VICTORIA GRUSZEWSKA MELANCHOLY DISTURBED At first a patter on the roof- I sat alone with head aloof, Peace, gentle peace had come at last, But so on the rain was pelting fast, Then came a Hash, a crash, a roar- Perplexed, my thoughts no more could soar. My dreams and visions now had Hown, To reality I had been thrown, And, oh, the grief which there prevailed Since this one solace now had failed. FLORENCE FLETCHER VANISHED FRIENDS How well I remember the trio that I associated with in my earlier days. The three who worked and played with me, who, next to my immediate family, received my prime consideration. They were my friends above all other friends. There was Greg, the boy next door, al- ways the most frightened as we crouched in some back alley or back piazza, evading the long arm of the law after playing in forbid- den areas or making a sudden raid upon a neighboring orchard. He was of medium size, well proportioned, and rather pleasant in speech, but carried an eternal plaintive look on his longish, freckled face. It was a sad day for us when his family moved to another city. Art, a small, slight, but energetic boy, was the best baseball player of the group. He made up for his meager size by his agility and daring. In addition, Art was the diplomat of the neihborhoodg there was scarcely a quarrel which did not melt away under his sedative powers. Thanks to him, the number of black eyes and broken teeth in the neighborhood were greatly reduced, but occasionally even he saw the wisdom of letting a dispute terminate in a pugilistic en- counter. It was a long time before the remain- ing two of us, Greg having left sometime be- fore, got over the untimely death of Art a few days after he was struck by a speeding automobile. The other member was called Petrovitch, but this was shortened to Pete for a good and sufficient reason. He was, as the story books would say, the fiery, dominant type. VV hen he called you at your back door, you knew it, and went pronto. Never did he lack an idea and he was always ready to back one up by the time you had absorbed it. Art usually had his hands full when Pete became excited at a baseball or football game. I still see Pete occasionally, and we re- kindle the flame of friendship by reminis- cences of the olden days when we were four. The old order changeth, Yielding place to new. And new friends take the place of old, but the old shall always remain with me in memory. ALEXANDER WISKUP