Bennett High School - Beacon Yearbook (Buffalo, NY)

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Bennett Beacon 1 I HE AND I At the gray cliffs' base, the bold waves beat, Sprang up, drew back, and on to repeat A tattooing rhyme In spasmodic time. And at the top stood he and I Silhouetted against the sky. Betty Davis 023, 1934 MENTAL INDIGESTION In the dim light loomed many weird shapes, leering at me maliciously. It seemed as if I were transplanted into a region inhabited by some mon' strosities of a future age, and that I had shrunk to Lilliputian proportions. Red eyes gleamed at me from everywhere, and there rose a great mountain, surmounted by a new growth of trees, most unusual for a peak of such apparent height and age. In a volcanic rumble it thundered, Why are you unprepared? The scene changed. Slowly the heretofore dim light increased. There before me, on a grassy knoll, lay what seemed to be my own body. Around it circled a group of sleek coated tigers, licking their dripping chops delight' edly. Ol O! said one in a voice that I seemed to recognize, doesn't he look delicious? just the thing to top off that sumptuous meal. just then a peculiar whirring sounded in my ears. I shrank back, but I was too late, for a great bat suddenly descended upon me and blotted out everything. Next, I had a vague impression of being violently shaken, which brought me back to consciousness. If you don't hurry to get up, you'll be late for school, said a voice that I knew to be my father's. And then, it all came back to me. Why had I been so foolish as to read that article on A Modern Teacher's Methods after seeing a performance of Dracula? Arthur S. Wenborne C1241 1933 ON F URNACES Huge, black monsters Open steel jaws and spit out ire, They swallow shovelfuls of coal, Gobble down great hunks of coal, And never chew them. And many men must stand and sweat, And shovel coal into the gaping jaws. Such men are slaves To great iron demons. Laura E. Salisbury 12071 1931

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1 0 Bennett Beacon At home, the more Dot thought about Danny's new possession, the less she liked it. When he called to take her to school, she said she preferred to walfk. I don't care to be the town joke, she said to her mother when that worthy person expressed her surprise. Danny, too, was surprised, but he intended to drive to school and if Dot didn't want to ride she could jolly well walik alone. That was that! For two weeks Dot saw little of Danny. One morning when walking to school with a group of girls, she saw the hideous purple and orange and red car drive by, crammed with laughing girls and boys, schoolbound. There goes Danny in his new car, announced one of the girls. As if Dot hadn't seen him! She felt a little pang. She might be one of that happy crowd of popular seniors. For another day Dot stood it. She went to the football game with a handsome boy that most of the girls adored, but she didn't enjoy riding in his sport roadster, nor did she enjoy even the glorious victory, because she kept thinking of Danny. That night she phoned Danny. Can't you come over awhile- she didn't even have to finish. Can I! In ten minutes the orange and purple horror was parked in front of Dot's house, its one headlight blinking knowingly. Later in the evening, the runabout was seen leaving with both Danny and Dot. It was my fault, though Danny. It's a beautiful car. Gee, I'll paint it any color you say. I felt like junking the thing when you wouldn't ride in it. It is an awful combination. But- !'What color shall we make it? expectantly. Why,-oh, well, if you really want to, we could paint the purple blue and cover the red with more orange. Okay. We start, tomorrow. All's right with the world. Chug, chug, chug. Phyllis Field 12231 1932 WHO GOES THERE? Oh, who goes there, in the deep, blue sea, With its terrors so stark and mad, With its longfripped sail, and splintered mast? 'Tis the wind, the scurvy lad. 'Tis the elements, with their stealthy tread, And their shrieks, and blasts, and groans, The lightning flash, and the thunder crash And the cries of those who are gone. Oh, who goes there, in the deep, blue sea? 'Tis I, says Death with a moan, The voice of the deep, the ruler of ikings, 'Tis I, 'tis I, who goes! Alice Eby C2071 1931

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I2 Bennett Beacon WI-IAT'S HEARD IN THE SHOWERS Cold water, please! Cw, it's too hot. You know I went out with Bill last night .... Betty Coed has golden hair for Amherst .... Are you letting your hair grow? . . . Did you get your Latin translation? . . . Twentyffour! . . . Stop splashing me .... Marg was rushed but didn't make it. . . . Lend me your comb? . . . You have too much lipstick on. . . . Number please .... Has the annex bell rung yet? But 'tis a common proof that lowliness is young ambition's ladder .... And so, far, far into the next period. Louise Stutzman 1223, 1932 AMONG THE NOBILITY Many people regard that set known as the nobility as a collection of arrogant, unfriendly individuals who pronounce a as aw and look down on the rest of the world in general. I, however, have a diiferent opinion of them, for this summer I had the good fortune to associate with three of the nobility of the British Empire. To begin with, I was guest at Lake Marie, the country estate of MajorfGeneral Sir Henry M. Pellatt, C. V. O., who was a great friend of my late father, and who now takes a lively interest in me. Sir Henry owns the famed Casa Loma, the most unique mansion in Canada, and has been Knighted for his service in introducing electricity into Toronto and the neighboring district. He is a large, jovial, clever man, who looks back with pleasure over sixty years of fame. Another guest at the lake was one of the most entertaining men one could hope to meet. Quick in perception, and of great ability, he has spent twenty years in India as an English oificer, and is now a wellfknown igure in London. He is LieutenantfColonel J. MackenziefRogan, C. V. O., D. Mus., Hon. R. A. M., etc., the retired Bandmaster to the Queen of England. The next gentleman figured in the World War. I know him as General Blacklock fdecorations unknown, undoubtedly a good fistfulj, a great sportsf man and soldier. From what the Colonel told me, I learned that he was the youngest General in the Allied Forces and had more men in his command than any other English officer of his rank. He is a typical Englishman, a great host, and a frank speaker. All are true gentlemen of the nobility, and yet, when out for a fish in the lake, each baited his own hook, landed his own fish, and talked about his favorite hound or poem, the King's health, or the events of the day. They are justly proud of their great achievements, but conceit and boasting are unknown to them. They treated me as their equal or, as they named me, the Yankee sportsmanf' They are internationally known and respected, yet so simple in manner that one easily understands why simplicity is the mark of a gentleman. Grosvenor W. Bissell H241 1933