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Page 11 text:
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THE GREEN AND WHITE 9 THE DAGGER OF MARTO It was a strange scene but it was beautiful. The moon, half hidden in the clouds, cast a weird, uncanny light upon the earth. The trees, streching far upward, stood out like grim spectors against the sky. A little to the right on an elevation of ground stood a man silent and alone. He seemed sad and preoccupied, dressed as he was in the gaudy array of a Gypsy chief. He seemed to be thinking of the time when he was the most respected and honored of his people. He had done nothing against them and yet he was an outcast. Within the glimmer of the campfire, a little boy lay sobbing. Robert, for that was the little fellow’s name, was the old chief’s constant companion. With his eyes blinded by tears, he arose and crept silently toward the tent of Marto. his would-he master. Entering the tent as silently as he had come, Robert beheld Marto stereched out on his cot in a deep sleep. Now was his chance to obtain the dagger which Marto valued even more than life itself, and for which he would sacrifice that which was most dear to him. Cautiously he seized it and with a gleam of triumph on his tear-stained countenance, he set out to find the old chief. After walking what seemed to him an endless road, he came upon his dear friend lying on the grass. Robert eagerly unfolded his plans to the chief and hastened hack to camp. When Marto awoke and found his dagger gone, he summoned the whole tribe to his tent. He was willing, he declared, to sacrifice the power he had striven for in order to secure his dagger. Robert stepped forward and in a bold tone offered him the dagger on the condition that the former chief would he restored. Sorrowfully, Marto consented and the old chief, descending the hill, saw his people joyfully coming to restore him to his well-merited kingship. MARY TOBIN, '26. THE CAPTAIN ENFORCES DISCIPLINE (From “Two Years Before the Mast”) “You see your conditions! Will you ever give me any more of your jaw?” No answer came; then came more wrestling and heaving. You may as well keep still, for 1 have got you.” said the captain. Then came the question : “Will you ever give me any more of your jaw?” “I never gave you any, sir,” said Sam; for it was his voice that we heard. “That’s not what I asked you. Will you ever he imprudent to me again?” I never have been, sir,” said Sam. “Answer my question or I’ll make a spread-eagle of you!” I’m no negro slave,” said Sam. Then I’ll make you one,” said the captain; and he came to the hatchway and sprang on deck, threw off his coat, and rolling up his sleeves, called out to the mate, “Seize that man up. Mr. A—! Seize him up! Make a spread-eagle of him! I’ll teach you all who is master aboard!” The mate laid hold of Sam who made no resistance. “What are you going to fiog that man for. sir?” said John, the Swede, to the captain. Upon hearing this the captain ordered John to he put in chains. By this time Sam was seized up; that is, placed against the shrouds, and with his wrist tied and hack exposed. The captain now laid hold of the bight of a thick, strong rope and flogged Sain and sent him forward. “Now for you.” said the captain, making up to John and taking his irons off. John ran to the forecastle hut was seized by the mate and brought to he flogged. When he was made fast he turned to the captain and asked why he was being flogged and the captain told him that he was being flogged for his interference—for asking questions. “Can’t a man ask a question without being flogged?” asked John. No!” came the answer, accompanied by blows upon John’s hack, and as he was about through he began telling them all that he flogged him because he liked to do it. It suited him, that’s why he did it. The man swrithed and my blood ran cold as I turned away, disgusted and sick. At length he ceased and turning around I found out that the mate, at the signal of the captain, had cut him down. Almost doubled up with pain the man walked slowly forward and sent down into the forecastle with his friend Sam. Just then the captain came forward calling out to us: You see your conditions! You see where I’ve got you all. and you know what to expect! You’ve been mistaken in me—you didn’t know what I was; now you know what I am! I’ll make you toe the mark, every soul of you, or I’ll flog you all, fore and aft, from the hoy up—you’ve got a driver over you! A slave driver—a negro driver !” Later John came up and asked for some salve or balsam for his wounds, hut the captain refused and ordered the men to put on their shirts and row him ashore. This they did. Finding that they tried their best he let them alone while they stood on shore talking for some time. JOSEPH CAMPANELLA, ’27 CLASS OF 1926 ALPHABET A—Arthur so careless with his hair. B—Brick and Blackie, Oh. what a pair! C—Charlie so smart and refined. D—Donald and his Charleston combined. E—Eloise the Algebra shark. F—Frank (Sneegy) as spry as a lark. G—Goff full of humor and wit. H Helen and Holt who always make a hit. 1—Iola the belle of the class. J—Johnny a hall player with class. K—KKK (Kinder. Kelley and Kennedy). L—Louie the President of these celebrities. M—Marguerite and Mary (twins) quite bright. N—Noises caused by Mac and the Swede. 0—Odd ways of Burnsy and Ben. P—Powers a truly great friend. Q—Quietness of our Esther and Wally. R—Rose McGovern so shy and yet jolly. S—Sanford and South wick, very playful. T—The talkers, our Julia and Mary. U—Unfailing smile of our Theresa. V—Voice of Hessian, loud and without fear. W—Winsome Josephine always eager to work. X—Xitement caused by the fireworks. Y—Young Lukie and Chet. Z—Zippiest Class as yet. LOUIS STABILA. ’26.
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Page 10 text:
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8 THE (iREEN AND WHITE “FISHERMAN’S LUCK” Spring was in the air. Mother Nature had aroused the joy of living and sent the young blood of John and Roger, aged nine and ten years, respectively, racing through their veins. The brook was calling them again; they must go fishing, although Daddy said it was too early for that occupation. Mother, however, helped bend the pins for hooks and collect the strings, donated a can for bait and packed the lunch for these ardent pursuers of Isaac Walton's art. At nine o'clock they reached the brook which wound this way and that among the trees of the wood lot. Quietly, but earnestly, the boys held their baited hooks waiting for a nibble. “Say. Roger, began John, do you—. Sh! you'll scare the fishes all away,” interrupted Roger. Well, 1 only wanted to say—he began again, only to be hushed by his brother. After a few minutes' pause, John tried to speak again: Don't you think that— “Naw, I don’t think at all; I’m busy. I do; I’m hungry, cried John jumping up. 1 don't w'ant to fish any more; I want my dinner.” Yes, lunch would taste good, and it is rather cold and tiresome sitting here so still,” thought Roger. Presently he joined John at lunch. I say, let's go wading for turtles,” suggested John. “Maybe Daddy was right about the fish. And so they went. Below their fishing ground the brook widened into a little pool. When they reached this spot Roger called out. “I see one. Where?” asked John. He's mine, though. I saw' him first, argued Roger. “Not if I help you catch him, was the return. When the object didn't move in response to stones, the boys w'aded in to get it and found—not a turtle, but a rusty and battered tin box. “What do you 'spose is in it?” asked one. “Diamonds, guessed John. Gunpowder. added Roger, struggling with the cover. At last the cover was loosened and in the box was—not what the boys expected, but a tiny celluloid doll, one arm of which was missing and whose body was badly mutilated. Aw gee, moaned Roger as he threw the things away. John was dumb. RUTH SKINNER. '28. IT IS NOT EASY To apologize. To begin over. To admit error. To be unselfish. To take advice. To be charitable. To be conservative. To avoid mistakes. To quit bad habits. To forgive and forget. BUT IT ALWAYS PAYS. AN EXCITING MOMENT (From Two Years Before the Mast ) The crew of the Pilgrim. while stationed at Santa Barbara, often went down to the Point, and caught a quantity of cod and mackerel. On one of these expeditions, they saw' a battle between two Sandwich Islanders and a shark. The shark had been playing about their boat for some time, driving away the fish, and showing his teeth at the bait, when they missed him. In a few moments a great shouting was heard between two Kanakas. The Kanakas sprang directly into the water after him. Before the shark could get into deep water one of them seized him by the tail, and pulled it on the beach; but the shark twisted around, turning his head under his body and made him let go. The shark now turned tail and made the best of his way, by flapping towards deep water. But before he was fairly off. the other Kanaka seized him by the tail, and made a spring towards the beach, his companions at the same time pegging upon him with stones and a large stick. As soon, however, as the shark could turn he was obliged to let go his hold; but the instant the shark made toward deep W'ater, they were both behind him, watching their chance to seize him. In this way the battle went on, the shark, in a rage, splashing and twisting about, and the Kanakas yelling at th top of their voices; but the shark at last got off, carrying away a hook and line, and a few severe bruises. MARY NEWBOLD. '27. MOTHER 1 Mother, in all languages, has a definite meaning and is a precious word. A mother’s face to every son or daughter seems to bear indescribable tenderness. The unselfish love she gives us, is given from the very depth of her heart. For many she is an unforgotten memory. To others she is a hallowed name. She seems to touch us ever in our dreams. Her caress is the sweetest one can receive. In time of danger she hides us under her wings as does an eagle her eaglets. Her struggles, pains and sufferings for us are often very great. She appears to be made of steel, yet she is but human like the rest of us. But a human with graces that speak eloquently. Her love is the nearest approach to the love granted by God to us. Blessed are they who receive tender caresses from her trembling lips. Blessed aer they who learn to love and cherish their mother. For what we are and what we shall be. we owe to our mother. DOMINIC TROIANO. '27. THE EASTER BELLS Now harken to those sweetly chiming bells And listen as they ring out o’er the dells. For now it is the joyous Easter time When all the world is happy and so fine. ELIZABETH DWYER.
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Page 12 text:
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10 T H F. 1 R E E N AND WHITE SOI) AMT AS AMICORUM The Sodalita Amicorum or Society of Friends, as is the name of the Latin Club, was first organized under its present name. The first meeting this year was held in November, at which time some new members were admitted. Officers were also elected at this meeting, the offices and officers are as follows: Consules — Miss Josephine Nussen-feld and Miss Margaret Tobin; Scribe—Miss Hattie Manley; Quaestor—Miss Mary Tobin; Aediles—James Giorgio and Frank Corea. The names of the offices will no doubt seem peculiar to one who has not studied Latin, but the names are all Latin. Consules i'ullfil the offices of chairman presiding at the meeting alternately. They derive their names from the old Roman consules. The Scriba is the secretary and this Latin word is still used in our word scribe.” The Quaestor is the treasurer and the aediles see that the room of the meeting is in order before and after the meeting. The aim of the club is to promote interest in the Latin language and Roman customs. At a meeting held recently it was voted to buy pins. The pins have arrived and have satisfied the buyers. All indications are that this will be the biggest year in a long time for the Latin Club. FRANK COREA. '28. THE GLORY OF NATURE In nature's field of glory do I lie. Before me are the flowers, above the skv; The birds are sweetly singing in the trees. The tall green grasses waving the breeze, The little shells are scattered o'er the sand, Whose tiny shapes are fashioned by God's hand. Above the field of glory where I lie. And as the darkness gathers o'er the land. The flowers go to sleep at God's command. Above, the stars are twinkling in the sky. The birds are flying to their homes on high, Tlie moon sends down its soft and welcome light, To soothe and calm the blackness of the night. F. MILY OST E R B E R G. WRITING A POEM While alone in my study I wrote a few lines All iambic pentameters none of which rhymed. So 1 crumbled the paper and threw it away And swore that no English I'd do for that day. The sixth period came and I went to room three, 1 could think only of what would happen to me, I was first to be called on : I said, er-r-1 mean; No you don't, said the teacher, stay at one-fifteen. OSWALD LeCLAIR. '27. MAY There is no month like merry, merry May, When all the earth becomes so bright and gay. ELIZABETH DWYER. THE RISE OF MAGGIE O'MALLEY Oh, my monk he ees so funny, He likes moocha da money. Da girls dey dance da Charleston now And don't dey maka da awful row! Maggie put her tousled head out through the window. The cool morning breeze sent her blonde hair flying into little ringlets. Her beautiful blue eyes sparkled and as she smiled her teeth pearly in their whiteness glistened beneath her ruby lips. She burst forth now in rippling laughter when she beheld Tony, the organ grinder of New York's East Side. Maggie's laughter always seemed to be a signal for the other girls to pop their •heads out and greet Tony. One can imagine what a noise there was when fify or sixty young voices greeted Tony! Maggie lived with her mother and a younger brother and sister in a very shabby and whetched tenement. Maggie's father, the sole support of the family, had been dead for several years and Maggie had been forced to go to work. This morning Maggie had to stay home be cause her mother had become ill. She stood at the window and hummed the tune which issued from the hurdy gurdv. The other girls were on the street doing all sorts of dances. When they became tired, Maggie was always ready to sing for them. Maggie's voice was a gift from God,” as the Irish women of the neighborhood said many, many times. A cry went up from the throng of children asking Maggie to sing “When Irish Eyes are Smiling. Her voice rippled forth in melodious, silery tones. The tones were like those of a nightingale. She thrilled the high notes like an opera singer does in an aria. The children and Tony had never heard her sing like that before. They just stood and stared at her dumbfounded. The hand of fate was busily at work this morning for at a little distance from the throng stood one of the best teachers and authorities on music. Professor Stephen Lang-ton had just chanced to be walking through that district. He had heard the music while vet at some distance away and was very much impressed by it. When Maggie had ceased he hurried up the creaking stairs to her home. She met him at the door Where he handed her a card on which was printed : Professor Stephen Langton Teacher of Voice 385 Fifth Avenue, New York City. She gasped as she read the card. But what does this mean?’ 'asked Maggie. It means that you ought to cultivate your voice by taking vocal lessons,’ 'answered Mr. Langton. I-I have no money,” stammered Maggie. Well, well! I’ll take no money from you,” he said good naturedlv. “By the way, you haven't introduced yourself to me. “Maggie O'Malley,' 'she said briefly. “Well. Miss O'Malley, I shall be waiting to give you your first lesso non Thursday afternoon at 2:30 o’clock. Good-bye.” So it was that Maggie started on the career
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