Boody Junior High School - Beacon Yearbook (Brooklyn, NY)

Page 7 text:

over the people. Our golden mist corresponds to your angels on earth. After thanking the man for his information, I continued to write in my notebook. Suddenly, the music mentioned before, rose to a loud crescendo and a sweet voice was heard to say, Come stranger, if you want to leave our planet. In front of me was a long, golden stairway. At the top was a golden net like the one I had come up in. I mounted the steps, took hold of the net and floated downward towards the earth. Down, down, down. Gently I landed next to the same stream I had started from. The net had disappeared. When I ran home and told my parents of my adventure, lwhich I discovered lasted only two hoursl, they didn't believe me. I don't suppose you will either, but I wanted to tell you about this strange visit because I knew you would read my letter through to the end-if only for the sake of a good story. Your friend, Bobby Salisberg Marilyn Rosen, RCI O MOVIES ON A SATURDAY I lay down my I5 cents on the counter of the booth. One, I say automatically. The smiling young miss behind the glass booth hands me my ticket. After I have handed my ticket to the collector, I enter the darkened theater. Follow mel snaps the matron. Obediently I follow. There's a seat, she growls. But it's so near, I protest, with a backward glance at the empty seats in the adult section. lt's fifteen rows, barks the matron. But my eyes are weak. The matron looks at me unbelievingly. Take it, or leave it. WeIl, can't I stand? IINOIII Oh, all right. I say, thank you, rather saucily, and sit down. But all I can hear is, It's a cinch, Tracy jumps out. Now he'II cIimb. Thereupon the young gentlemen in front of me become involved in a heated debate lconcerning a chapter shown beforel in which many .-I . , I ' 6

Page 6 text:

one leaned against the wall, the second stood on the first's shoulders and so on until they made a ladder up to the hole. I was evidently expected to climb up, which I reluctantly did. When I arrived at the hole, the little men dropped and left me hanging there. I looked down and saw a long, glass chute padded with cushions. Softly and gent- ly I slid down. At the end I shot across a polished glass floor. I climbed up a little bit, when a voice stopped me. Who are you? it asked. I looked about in astonishment, but could see nothing. No matter, the voice continued, would you like to see our coun- try? Yes, I eagerly assented. But who will show it to me, and how will I get out of this house? A door opened suddenly at the side of the wall. Gol said the voice. Outside you will find your guide. I went outside and found some more little men waiting for me. Off we went at a brisk pace. In my hand I had a notebook and pen- cil with which to write down any scientific data I could. We passed through green fields in which shepherdesses were herding the sheep. We came to houses like the one I had seen, only smaller. Finally we came to a big open space in which yellow-clad men, women, boys, and girls were busily and happily working. I stopped one man who seemed to be a leader and started to speak to him. What sort of country is this? I asked. He replied, Well, you see, a long time ago your earth became crowded with mortals. Some of them were very kind to us, but most of them were careless and cruel. One day we held a council and de- cided to find another place to live. We searched a long time and finally found this planet and came here to live. Our country is un- officially called, 'The Land of Sunny and Happy Hearts' by us who live here. Everyone is bright and happy because we all have plenty of work and' play to keep us busy. Instead of a king we have a Friend, who helps and guides us. He is so good that he has become almost as pure as light itself. People rarely see him. When they do, he ap- pears to be almost transparent. When the man had finished, I started to write facts about the planet and its inhabitants. Tell me, ' I said, what causes the yellow mist about this planet? The same man answered, In this country no one ever dies. Our souls become so pure that finally we turn into golden light and watch 5

Page 8 text:

outsiders take part. To ask them to stop is useless-I know from ex- perience, and so I grin and bear it. I grin so as to keep up my spirits. My eyes are on the screen, I realize it's the strong scene of the picture. Straining my ears, I try to Iisten but in vain. In the adult section handkerchiefs are stopping tears. But the 'tears' in front of me are still going strong. Time passes. I hear nothing, and soon the picture is over. The angels in front of me have decided to stay once more. Although I hear this time, I cannot enjoy the picture because I am kept in- formed about the part after this, thanks to those awful children. Due to this fact, I don't have a very pleasant time. Soon everyone is laughing and the picture is over. I leave before the end, with a firm resolution not to come next Saturday, and can you blame me? Rita Dobzinsky, RBI. C DISPUTED GAME He was handsome, well built, and very intellectual. Jim Marvin was a 20-year-old student of Harding University. Marjory Hastings, daughter of the college dean, was strolling on the campus one night, when Jim suddenly bumped into her. Ohl I beg your pardon, he said, in a slow, low tone that caused Marjory's heart to skip a beat. That's quite all right, answered the girl. Jim immediately felt that he ought to get acquainted with her. She was a sweet, blonde-haired miss, her azure eyes shining like the stars above. This was indeed love at first sight. Jim's brain was trying to find a way to introduce himself to this wonderful girl. His body was cold with perspiration. No, he hadn't the nerve. Would he meet her again? He must wait for another time. Unknown to both Jim and Marjory, the latter had dropped her purse during the confusion. A few minutes later, Jim, still in the same spot of the very brief meeting, suddenly sighted it. What must he do now? The girl was out of sight. Why not open the bag and find out if there was an address? Yes, indeed. The Dean's address. Could this be the Dean's daughter? Within twenty minutes, Jim was at the door of the Dean's home. He knocked, somewhat frightened, or nervous-or was it love? He trembled at the thought of the latter. A colored servant opened the door and let him in. Who do yo' all wish to see, suh? asked the servant. . - . 7