Albany High School - Prisms Yearbook (Albany, NY)

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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

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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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THE GARNET AND GRAY 13 His father before him was clever In his little amature way, Cards was his style, an' he laid by a pile As a dealer in ol' Santa Fe. But he shuffled just once too often, They caught him one night with the goods, An' although he was hung, we are proud that he swung From the prettiest pine in the woods. An' so if I say, as I shouldn't, I come from a famous ol' line, So you'll understand, why this morning I stand At the foot of a wide-spreadin' pine. They got me fer stopping the mail coach g Yes, jest once too often fer me. But dad an' his dad when they see will be glad That-I swung from the ol' family tree. MOSTON HATHAWAY, '24 SCARLET BLUES O Father! O Mother! My fearful card has come! My brain had weathered every test, the day, I thought was won. The time is near, their joy I hear, my parents loud imploring, Who long to see the nice high marks, the figures blue and soaring. But, oh! What! What! What! Oh the flaming sight I dread There on the card my markings lie, Fallen, low and red! O Father! O Mother! You'll smile to see my marks. Oh come! For you I labored thus, for you I cut my larks, For you I toiled and studied hard, the midnight candle burning, although for pleasure yearning. Look Father! Look Mother! These marks of sky-like blue. I open up the envelope, Behold a scarlet hue. At first they do not answer, their voices, mute and still. I know 'tis calm before the storm and through me runs a chillg And then the silence breaks, and I, tho' I like murder yell Am taken cross my father's knee and whaled, oh, sad to tell! Exult, oh world! and ring, oh bells! But I with mournful tread, After eating off the mantle shelf Am on my way to bed. CHARLES ROOT, '24