Albany High School - Prisms Yearbook (Albany, NY)

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18 TI-IE GARNET AND GRAY apologize for what I had done. I also promised to read the book. She only smiled in a knowing way and said, I mean to give you this set of books by giving you one every Christmas. I hope you will enjoy them. CHRIS STAHLER ON BEING SMALL Who is there better able to describe the sensations of a small person than one who is just merging from a rather abbreviated station in the world of longitudinal measurement to a higher one. The beauty of this work is that it is unbiased. In those days when I was smaller than I am now-yet, as old appear- ingg when I was called shrimp by even my best friends, when girls at dances asked, just to be sociable, whether my Dad was small, too, or if I expected to grow any moreg when my clothes were made to order and I wore shoes made for boys, I must admit that I envied a tall person, but now, as I out- grow that state, I miss many conveniences, known only to small persons. It was just last week that upon discovering a parade, I started, in an unconcerned manner, to push my way to the front of the crowd. Some- one roughly pushed me back and asked if I thought I was the only one who wanted to see the parade. A year ago, that same person would have helped me through the crowd. A small man is in no one's way. Did you ever stop to think how much more credit you give a small person than a bigger one for knowing something? And, oh! how much more lenient were the teachers when I was a shrimp. They seem to think a big person has more time to himself than a small one. There is another advantage to being small that I blush to speak of, and yet, because of its very importance, I must. It has to do with beds and bed covers. They seem all to be made for small people. Well do I remember the warmth and comfort that were mine on mornings gone by. Now, in the summer, mosquitos, and, in the winter, jack Frost, play havoc with my nether extremities which, despite all efforts on my part, succeed in keeping themselves as devoid of covering as a band-player's head is of hair. You may think, then, that a small person is perfectly satisfied with his lot, but such is not the case. They think not of what they have, but of what they have not. And so it is the world over. Since the time of Adam, the small have wanted to be big, the big to be small, and those of medium size larger or smaller. Even I, who have always desired to be tall, sit down, on the eve of my wish's fulfillment, to write, not of the good things to come, but of those left behind. Isn't there a trite old saying that says Such is life ? Davis L. SHULTES, '23 .

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THE GARNET AND GRAY l7 -1 cj IF ' x X f gf' X 5 is A I f - .git mtg A HAPPY DISAPPOINTMENT XVere you ever disappointed on Christmas? Did you ever run into your living room on Christmas morning expecting to find a pair of skates on shoes and a skating sweater but to your disappointment find a book with a long, long name that meant nothing to you? XYas it the aunt who always gave you just what you wanted? This happened to me and that's why I felt out of sorts. Here, after all my hoping, my aunt sent me a book. The instant I looked at the book I vowed I would not read or open it. Qn Christmas night my aunt came to visit my mother and see my gifts. I thanked her for the book but I think she noticed a tinge of disappointment in my tone. She asked me if I had received the things I wanted. 'When I told her that I was disappointed she looked rather surprised but said nothing. The remainder of the winter I used my old hockey skates and sweater. The skates were a constant trouble to me and the sweater was not far from the appearance of a rag. The winter wore away slowly and at last came spring. and then finally came summer. A friend who was spending his vacation with us succeeded in interesting me in reading. One day as we were looking over some of my books my friend chanced upon the one my aunt had given me. Upon reading the name, my friend who was somewhat older and had read a great deal said, Shame on you! Here is the best book you own, and it looks to me as though it has never been opened. I don't believe you have read this, have you? As he said this he opened the book. You can well imagine my astonishment, pleasure, and shame when he slipped out two ten dollar bills and a note written by my aunt. On the note was written Merry Christmas from your aunt. The money is for the skates and sweaterf, The first thing I did was to get my hat and rush to my aunt's house and l . I

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THE GARNET AND GRAY 19 THE CHRISTMAS GIFT lt was the evening before Christmas when Mrs. Dickson stepped from her limousine, in front of a large apartment store on Fifth Avenue. She seemed not to notice the happy people about her. As she passed the toy window, she hesitated, and something like a sob seemed to come from her. In front of the window a small girl of about nine years, stood gazing at the beautiful dolls. She was dressed very poorly. Her hands wereyblue from cold, but she was so engaged looking at the dolls, that she did not mind it. Frequently her eyes rested on a coin she held carefully in her hand. Mrs. Dickson passed the child and walked into the store. mer shopping done Mrs. Dickson was about to leave the store, when a group of people seemed to attract her attention. As she neared, she found that the people were gathered about a small girl and the store detective. She recognized having seen the girl before. The child frightened, and almost in tears was clutching a necktie in her hand. NVhere did you get that tie? asked the detective. I bought it for my sick brother for a Christmas present, was the answer. A' No, you didn'tg you took it. N-o, I didn'tg I bought it with my fifty cents. This tie cost no fifty cents, therefore that is a proof you took it. They were about to take the child away, when Mrs. Dickson stepped forth. Stop, you beast! she said. I saw this girl enter the store with a fifty cent piece in her hand. I should think that you know the prices of articles, she said, pointing to a sign which read, n Closing Christmas Bargains Neckties SOC. each. The detective was very much surprised. The necktie was quickly handed back to the child and the people began to clear away. Vtfhat is your name? asked Mrs. Dickson. Oh, Grace Stark, replied the child. What are you doing here all alone? Where is your mother? Oh, my mo-ther, she-she is in heaven with my father. L' XVhere is this brother I heard you speak about? He is home sick. He could not go to work and he lost his job. And he says that he don't think there is going to be much of a Christmas for us. But I saved my money and I bought this necktie for him. XVhere do you live? I live on -1 Street. L' May I take you home? Wotild you like to show me where you live? Oh yes, ma'am, thank you. ' They both entered the car and were soon on a dingy looking street. They stopped in front of a small house. Grace led the way up a pair of broken stairs and opened a door of a small room. as