Albany High School - Prisms Yearbook (Albany, NY)

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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

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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 Betts- Pearle A HAPPY OMEN Although the skies are gray and drear, And north winds shrilly sing, The world's all right, for he is here, The Prophet of the Spring. From twig to twig I watch him hop, A tiny ball of brown, And hear him cry, Cheer up, old top, I'm not a bit cast down l p LEONARD DIPACE, 'Z6 MYSELF AND ME I'm the best friend I ever had, I like to be with meg I like to tell myself Things confidentially. I often sit and ask me If I shouldn't Or if I should, And I find that my advice to me Is always pretty good. I never got acquainted VVith myself till here of late, And I find myself a bully chum, And I treat me simply great. I walk with me, I talk with me And I show me right and wrong, I never knew how well myself And me could get along. I've made a study of myself And compared me with the lot, I finally concluded I'm the best friend I've got. Ex- The Ottowa Campus Will the coach be given a letter P If Of course! Didn't he make the team ? Rock-a-bye, Seniors, in the tree top, As long as you study the cradle will rock But when you stop digging, the cradle will fall- And down will come seniors, diplomas and all ll 51