Bennett High School - Beacon Yearbook (Buffalo, NY)

Page 14 text:

The BEACON MUD Ivlud--dirty, drab, mud- Black mud, slimy mud- Cozing mud, filthy mud. Filthy say you? Say not so, Black it is But filthy, noe- Say you rather of its beauty, Of the sacrifices made To make it. Say you rather of its stillness 'Neath the woodland shades That break it. On the river bed it lies Soft and gripping, Shifting as the brooklets rise, Shifting, slipping. Know you not what lies beneath Exposed to all who care to see? 'Tis the work of God above, Maker, of both you and me. He that made us made the mucl, just as man. He made the lands. Why, then, do you scorn to know it, This,the work of holy hands? Could they hear you, 'neath the Waters, Souls of trees would whisper low, Hearts of flowers would whisper softly, VVhisper gently, Say not so. For, to make its velvet smoothness Fragrant grasses gave their all, And 'tis o'er the dead pine needles That the rippling rivcrs fall. Sturdy oaks their bark have given just to make that ebon black: Deep within this succulent mire Lies the heart of tamarack. Even in this oozing blackness, In this fen so broad, Even in this sticky drabncss, In this mud, is God! John Hagmann Q224j 1928

Page 13 text:

The BEACON - ii MOON -LOVE The moon in spring is my only love, He taps at my window with long white fingers. On winter nights when he is gone, The memory of his wooing lingers. Then deep in my heart is a tragic thought, My joy is marred by a single thing-- There are so many moonfsick maidens, And somewhere in the world it's spring. --Elizabeth Winspear 007, 1928 BOGKS FORGOTTEN Down on Fourth Avenue, New York, just off Union Square, dusty book' shops line the streets for about three blocks. These ancient nooks are small and unpretentious. In the summer days, when the lazy New York sun is splashing gold upon the sidewalks, thousands of tattered, musty volumes are set out in semiforderly array in long wooden boxes upon saw horses. No one passes without a short glance at least, at those dogfeared books. There is a lure behind a dirty wornfand'torn cover which cannot be escaped even if one 1S across the street. The casual onflooker finds little to please him. The books are mainly concerned with medicine, law, and the sciences, or are two or three year old novels whose bright stars have faded. There are notso many classics as would be expected there, but once in a while one may turn up a volume of Milton, Macaulay, or Bulwer. Sometimes old books are found. I remember finding an essay published in London in the year 1729 for the magnificent price of ifteen cents. Perhaps the prices are the most fascinating attractions in the mart. They range from five cents to fifty on the stands, while within the shops they progress from fifty cents to really large sums of money. One could assemble a library if he had but ten dollars and plenty of time. It is all great fun, even if you do not buy. But here is the point. Threeflourths of those books were written since 1900, and have been entirely forgotten, during this quarter century. Once they were new. One could not have known then by looking at their covers that they were worthless, that they were different in some way from their shelffneighbors. But they were of little value and the relentless verdict of the years has consigned them to this limbo of oblivion. Instead of retaining their youthful appearance and lasting quality, in the library of a learned man, they are tossed ruthlessly into dirty boxes and left to the careless hands and brains of the casual passerfby. A -Reuel Denney 12061 1928

Page 15 text:

The BEACON 13 THE SEA, THE SAND, THE SKY The sea wears a smoothly shining skirt of satin, Cool green, and here and there a white foam ruffle, And she swishes it quite softly on wet sand As she trips along the shore. The sand wears dainty fluttering chiffon Of a color warm and golden, which the breeze Ruffles softly as she sits so shyly watching Her more sophisticated neighbor. The sky is cool and smiling, poised quite perfectly. She wraps her light blue cloak around her. She fluffs her summer f urs of billowy whiteness, And preening, glides along on summer breezes. Three lovely ladies, airy, demure, aloof, Beauties of the summer and of all creation, The sea, the sand, the sky. Esther Gibson 0071 1928 COURTESY The majority of high school students are so busy in their scholastic, athf letic, or dramatic development that they sometimes forget the development of that very important characteristic, courtesy. Most pupils think they are courf ttous if they say, Excuse me, when passing in front of a person, or if they perform other simple acts. This idea is all right for a pupil of the lower grades, but when a person has advanced into High School, he must consider courtesy in a broader sense. Courtesy to a high school student should mean considering the rights and privileges of others. If he has this idea, he will not talk when his teacher or someone else is trying to talk, he will not run through the halls knocking people to the right and left of him, nor will he disturb his friends in the study hall. In most cases a pupil does these things not because he wants to be discourteous but because he forgets to be courteous. He for- gets to consider the other person. This lack of consideration has been noticed by the faculty and many girls of our school, in order to remedy this condition, they decided to have courtesy week. This, of course, is a very splendid idea. But why should we wait for such an occasion before we start to be polite? Let us start now to develop this spirit of consideration in Bennett High School, because by its development, Bennett will be a better school and pupils will strengthen their character. -Elmer Tropman f206j 1928