Albany High School - Prisms Yearbook (Albany, NY)

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THE GARNET AND GRAY 11 After being assured that she was the only girl Bob ever waited for, she decided to accept his invitation to dinner. After the wedding which Aunt Marion, of course, attended, Betty con- fessed how at first she was so provoked at having to change the gloves, but, after her reconciliation with Bob, how thankful she was. R'OSELLA DoDDs, '23 THE LOST LAMB Last autumn a much bewildered lamb was placed in the vast and ex- tensive meadow of the Albany High School. Having come from a small select field the lambkin felt as if it had been placed in a teeming small New York. Dear me, quoth the stranger, I don't know where nor how to go nor what to do. Often and more often the dear thing was sent to a dazzling lady in the room with the fence at the end of one of the long lanes. The superb one would glance kindly at the wooly head as if to say, You here again P and casually direct the miscreant to the proper room. ' And then when the room was reached there were so many eyes boring at oneg questioning eyes, scornful eyes, indifferent eyesj The poor victim would get all prickly heat under the nice wool, and wish with all its troubled heart it were away from all humans in a quiet green field with Howers and buterfiies. jerked from its dream, the stranger would be called to the desk and put through the paces. VVhat's your name? Where were you born? lYhere do you come from? VVhat are you taking? How old are you ? To each query shot at it, the poor lambie would stutter an answer, and to the last would blushingly whisper, Sixteen. After a while the scared feeling passed leaving only burning curiosity in its place. For some time our friend unwillingly went down the middle stairs and up the side ones, wondering why it was stared at, and realizing at times that one could not be fat and negotiate the Herculean task of slip- ping eel-like through the oncoming ranks. One sad day the innocent one openly flouted the law in passing a cop before rather than behind. Alas! Alas! the rude thing grabbed our lambkin and whirled it down the lane. False summons to the office once would have caused the lamb's tempera- ture to break any thermometer, but not any more. One day they called it from its many antics in the gym valley. After docilely slipping on a skirt to conceal the--er-uniform and tripping sweetly to 113, it was accused of not being in class and all sorts of things. An explanation proved some- one had juggled the lists, so pardon was given and the culprit went back to the playground. Many weeks have passed and the lamb is quite at home. The office seems deserted and the path to the office erased since the dear one's faltering feet have become confident and sure. Those who stared have turned out to be friends. The cops are really sweet and sometimes humanly obliging. The whole pasture is so nice and pleasant, with so much grass of knowledge, with kindly shepherds and jolly companions that the lamb's,content to stay there and chew, gossip and gambol till Time does them part. A. B. C.

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10 THE GARNET AND GRAY the storm would stop. What was that rustling? What was that which brushed by his leg? It was a snake! He wanted to run, but his legs refused to respond. He wanted to scream, but the sound stuck in his throat. Then he remembered that it would not strike him unless he moved. It brushed by his leg again. Fear conquered self-control and he kicked at the unseen. He struck something. It struck back. There was a hiss, something caught his leg, and he could feel the prick of sharp fangs. He could not move, but lay as if paralyzed. A cold perspiration broke out on his forehead. He seemed to feel the poison stealing through his veins. Then suddenly he relaxed and lay motion- less, his mouth open, his eyes glassy. He was dead. A sudden flash of lightning revealed a cat, crouching over a mouse, glaring at the person who had tried to take away her prey. EARLE WHITBECK, '23 AUNT MARION'S GIFT It was near Easter and Aunt Marion had sent Betty several pairs of gloves. Accompanying the gloves were the check from Martins and a note saying that, if the gloves were not the right size, they could be exchanged at Martins. The gloves were size seven-and Betty wore six. Although Betty had persistently avoided Martins department store, it was necessary for her to go there now. After changing the gloves, Betty went to her and Bob's old meeting place. She seated herself in a corner. Not very far away stood a very tall, good-looking young man. ' Who is he waiting for now ? she mused. I think I'll wait and see who it is. ' As soon as Bob saw her he said to himself, I see Betty is waiting for someone else now. I'll wait and find find out who it is. Fifteen minutes passed slowly, thirty minutes, then one hour, still no one came. The store emptied until Bob and Betty alone remained. Still they sat there. At last Betty perceived that they were the only ones in the store. She arose, and lifting her head high in the air, passed Bob. .A floor-walker kindly suggested to Bob that it was time to leave. Although they went in opposite directions, they met at the malin entrance. As this door was locked, they were directed to the employer's exit. ' Outside of the store Bob said to Betty, Can I do anything for you? Your-your friend seems to be delayed. What about your friend, snapped Betty, you've been waiting ages. Why, I've been waiting to see whom you intended to meet. stam- mered Bob. At this, Betty lost her hauteur and began to laugh. Why, Bob, she said, I waited to see your friend, too.

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THE GARNET AND GRAY POETRY THE BARRED DooR The outlaw rattled his mother's door, When the silver moon was high, Oh, mother, undraw the iron bolts, For the sheriff's men are nigh! But silent remain the iron bolts, None down the staircase creep, For 'neath the oak, by the old, stone kirk, His mother lies asleep. Oh, weary and wounded, my mother am I, My faithful steed is lame, My useless quiver empty hangs, My good sword's broke in twain. No stir came to the outlaw's ear, But by the distant spring, He heard the panting of their steeds, And heard their bridles ring. They cut him down in his mother's door, They buried him unshriven, And through his breast into the clay, An oaken stake was driven. The outlaw rattles his mother's door When the silver moon is high, Oh, mother, undraw the iron bolts, For the sheriff's men are nigh! MAX S. KAUFLIAN, '23 --. ...i THE FAMILY TREE My dad was a famous two-gun man, I'm sure you remember his name, As Loose-Trigger Pete, he could shoot awful neat VVhen a piker nosed in on his game. A rustler he was by perfeshun, Till one of his pals spilled his dope, An' dad paid his fine, rom the branch of a pine At the end of a hundred foot rope. A