Albany High School - Prisms Yearbook (Albany, NY)

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THE GARNET AND GRAY 25 all the makes without looking up the back numbers. Maybe it's the boiler from Robert Fulton's old Clermont. Lord knows. Lizzie quivered, her radiator was boiling over from her resentment, but she controlled herself, seeing that she was powerless. Then up spoke a small Ford ton truck, If you knew how you looked when you first came out you wouldn't have so much to say. That 'kid' is all right. He's got to be, Henry designed it and Henry designed me and I'll wager we'll stand anything you'll stand any day. Lizzie wiggled front right fender in gratitude, for even this bit of consolation from her foreign cousin. There was a Lincoln in the far corner. My friends, let us have malice toward none and charity for all. Lizzie, you must admit you can travel. She can be depended upon to get there. She works faithfully and well. Yes, we must give her credit. Travel, said the Fierce Sparrow contemptuously, why, I'd run all over her. I could do ninety per. I carry princes and swells, and I'd be twice around the world before that tin can could wiggle its fan belt. VVell, I ain't given to blowing, as a rule, began the Buick, but when better cars are built, Buick will build them. Yet, Liz over here isn't such a bad skate if you can bank the difference. Lizzie doesn't need a horn. You can hear her a mile back. She's in my class only I don't make any noise about it, said Dodge, as he put in his two license plates. Aw, she's only a bunch of ' papier mache ' and can't take a hill except tail end first. Bah l scorned the Paige as she turned up her pointed nose. The master patted Lizzie on the hood and reassured her. He fed her some gas and gave her some condensed air. That's all right, Liz. Don't mind them. We'll show 'em up to-day, eh, old girl? And Lizzie did. She took some punishment that day. She worked as she never worked before, for her master, for in one day she spanned the distance between Montreal and Albany. She was a credit to her designer. Lizzie wasn't good looking but she had good sense, and lots of pep. It was an accomplishment that would make her tormentors of the night before green with jealousy. Moral: Looks are often deceitful. The pulse tells more than the pedigree. BERTHA M. VVARSHAW SCHOOL DAYS The wind was humming a melancholy air, one frosty day last Decem- ber, when, Up from the South at break of day, Sheridan NVilliams, 'A with a terrible rumble and grumble and roar, burst from his house like a shot from a cannon's mouth, -and 8:15, twenty minutes away! It was so bitterly cold, that Williams lighted a match to warm his

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24 THE GARNET AND GRAY VViggled with the delight and happiness. A happier Ford could not have been found. She was happy and frolicsome as a young colt, much to the discomfort of the three musketeers. They traveled on, this unique quartet, and W'hen the shades of night began to fall, they sought cover through fear of being crushed under its accelerating weight. They slumbered that night, the three musketeers and Lizzie. Aye, Lizzie still slept when the trio were up and doing. They tried to awake her, they coaxed her, they' pushed her, they cranked her, but she slumbered on in peace. She would not even grunt. Ah, gentle sleep, sweet sleep! What a soother of tired nerves. Lizzie had exercised vigorously in the fresh air of yesterday and was tired. She determined to have her rest. At last she gasped, sputtered, and kicked like Maud. Another' crank! She jumped forward and fell back in exhaustion. She choked, gasped for breath, quivered in every nut and halked and began to shiver. It was indeed a cold morning. Pt-sput-tick-bangg r-r-r-tick, sput, put, put, put. She chattered in the transmission, as the foot of the musketeer descended on low. She was awake and, As the musketeer let out his foot She responded with a jump, and was off in a clatter of valves. A powerful Stutz was scared, And gave her the road. Lizzie was imbued with a new spirit. So they traveled for many days, And so they slept many nights, And so they labored many mornings, until one bright morning they halted on the shores of the great, Stately St. Lawrence. Ferried across into the North land, over the border that knew no fortress. Lizzie was happy in this new adventure. She pranced along with the fire of a Morvitch, with the speed and spit of a De Palma. That day she was in Ottawa, and turning back east that evening she snorted through the streets of Montreal the next afternoon. 456-896 slept that night in a garage, the first time in a week, with a roof above her. That night was a miserable night for Lizzie. Although she was rated by the customs at one hundred dollars the next day found her feeling as though she was worth ninety-nine dollars and ninety-eight cents less. VVhen the master musketeer came the next morning to see her, she told him her pitiful story of the night. A haughty Fierce-Sparrow, nickeled and polished, spick and span, began the impolite game, speaking to a Twin Six who was also visiting. VVhere did this thing blow in from, he asked disdainfully. The Twin Six raised his rear wheel and scratched his fender thought- fully. Ask the man who owns it. It's all I can do to keep track of

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26 THE GARNET AND GRAY hands, but much to his horror, the flame froze on the end of the match. At this time the wind was so strong, that it even blew telegraph poles inside out. Nevertheless he hurried on to the nearest corner. Upon arriving there, Sheridan had plenty of time to recite his Caesar lesson in French, before the one man car strolled along,-and 8:15, fifteen minutes away! Williams stepped briskly in the would-be-car, and proceeded to drop his fare in the Hoof. The conductor-motorman rendered a very sour-castie look, when Sheridan requested the former to ouvrez la porte, our hero's coat being caught. Upon reaching a seat near the middle of the car, Sheri- dan undertook the responsibility of holding it down, jointly, with a stout lady,-and 8:15, ten minutes away. Here the car stopped to take in the Old Lady's Home. This necessi- tated Williams's giving up his seat to a young-old lady. Our hero, upon reaching the rear of the car, proceeded to hold up the beam, which sup- ported the ceiling of the car,-and 8:15, five minutes away! One block from school, Sheridan, gathering together his trusty Caesar book, attempted to break through the front line in the rear. There were. People to the right of him, People to the left of him, People in front of him, Boldly he rode and, well, Into the face of the conductor, who dashed the door shut in his back. After leaving the car in the dust, he tore down the street, broke into the front door, ran through the locker rooms, raced up the end stairs, smashed in the door of room 324, and Vllilliams, you're late ! CDedicated to the over-worked children of the Albany High Schoolj GEORGE G1LDERsLEEvE, '23 CHRISTMAS EVE--A MESSAGE All evening he had trudged through the snow on his way to nowhere, moving only because it was warmer so. But now before the open doors of the great cathedral he paused at the strains of glorious music that stole out to him through the twilight. The little waif was starved, but not for want of food alone. The soul of this little one was one of the unaccountable mysteries which rise, to taunt one, from the swarming filth of the East Side. Perhaps the gods above. weary of a suitability of things, do this in jest, but if it be jest, 'tis indeed a cruel one. The soul of this prodigy of the slums found wings in music and here was music sublime and profuse. Fascinated, he crept nearer and nearer until he was nestled in the cushions of a seat in a dark corner. Soon the richly dressed, joyful throng came to worship. The church