Calhoun School - Ink Pot Yearbook (New York, NY)

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' 1936 INK POT Q Ken and Bob looked at one another and warmly shook hands. It seemed as though they were saying in unison, lt workedf' At eight-thirty Lincoln, the capital of Nebraska, passed under them. Soon afterwards they were over Salt Lake City, and then, at about ten o'clock, the last of the United States passed beneath them. Now they were really on one of the most dangerous laps of the journey, over the Pacific Ocean. Somewhere east of the lvlidway Islands the plane lurched and began to fall. They were not alarmed for long, however, because they realized that they were in an air pocket. Ken, who was now at the controls, righted the ship, and they soon gained altitude. It was not with regret that at about five o'clock in the afternoon they saw japan come into view. Larry radioed the airport and sent home the message that the plane was acting beautifully and that all was well. At six o'clock they were over Peiping, where they had made arrangements for a refueling plane to meet them. It was not difficult to make the contact, so that soon they reached the half way mark of their journey. At midnight Constantinople reached them, and the sight of this beautiful city shimmering in the splendor of the moonlight was thrilling for each of them. At one o'clock The lN'Ionarch soared over Naples, where another radio message was sent home, and at two o'clock Madrid was sighted, and then they were nearing the United States. The three companions were very much fatigued, but because of the excitement none of them was able to sleep. At seven o'clock on the following morning Bob brought the plane down amid cheers and applause, and then the three heroes, as soon as they were able to break away, went home to dream of the new fields they had opened to aviation. There he lay upon the ground, His head was bent, his hopes long drowned. He was an artist, hungry and poor, He was a famous painter no more. He looked up and there he saw Tall buildings, heard the city's roarg He looked down and saw park grass, And there a tiny ant did pass. The ant was busv at its toil Lifting seeds and hits of soil. A tiny ant could busy he, And yet Il man as big as he Vvould have to beg for food to eat. BETTY BARON, '37. The Artist The artist sighed a weary sigh. To make some money he vowed he'd tryg And when he lifted his hatless head He saw a bit of pencil lead. But what would he write on, thought he. So he tore a bit of bark from a tree. There was the sketch completed and fine, True in each detail and line. To see if they'd publish it he sent away. They published and sent him some money next day. The picture was of a man on the ground: His head was bent, his hopes long drowned. And in the winter, shelter and hear. Erase ELISBERG, '41 Movin' Pictures I like the movin' pictures, and so does My brother, too. Cowboys are most excitin'g Gables best, Says Sister Sue. Boys like shootinl and fightin', And girls like handsome men. The movies please each one of us, And our family numbers ten. JEAN Cortex, '40 Twenty

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t 1936 INK POT . The World Goes Round and Around The following story is purely imaginative. Can any scientifically-niinded reader explain why the experiment is inzprartieablr? UIYIEROUS charts maps and papers decorated the office in which two young 7 men were eagerly perusing some plans for a flight. Bob Hamden and Ixen Rleredith were studying various weather charts, and now and then paused to shove away superfluous papers that cluttered up the desk at which they were working. Soon they were talking excitedly. ' I think it's a swell idea, exclaimed Ken enthusiastically, -that is, if it will work, he added upon second thought. , H b We ought to find out soon enough, returned Bob. Dr. Stangeison wi e here in a couple of minutes. Ken who was too fidgety to concentrate on the charts, jumped up, and after Y he floor a few seconds, turned to the window and espied a well-known Hgure turning into the path leading to the office. Hurrah! he shouted. Now we'll see some action around heref' Th t friends ran to the door and heartily welcomed the new arrival. e wo Have a seat, Larry. We're anxious to have your opinion on a matter of the utmost importance to us. Dr. Larry Stangerson was an old rien 0 eir , , thesis on aviation for his degree of Doctor of Philosophy. Now he made himself comfortable, lit a cigarette, and looked questioningly at the two impatient boys. Go ahead, Bob, spill it, it was really your idea anyway, said Ken generously, for he was really bursting to relate the idea himself. O K Ken, consented the other. You see, Larry, briefly it amounts to this. . ., Ken and I were going over some plans the other day, and we hit on the idea that pacing t f d f th ' s and had recently written a it would be a good experiment to see if we could stay in the air twenty-four hours and see the earth revolve beneath us. For example, say we leave here at ten-thirty ' h ornin o up about three thousand feet and cruise back and forth about in t e m g, g half a mile east and west. We'd be in view of the earth the whole time. Ken and I saw no obstacles in the way. Do you ? It seemed like ages before Dr. Stangerson, after thoughtfully meditating upon the matter, finally said, I think you've got a great idea there, boys. I'm with you. For the next few hours they worked busily making plans for a new airship and discussing the matter thoroughly. They agreed to set the date for the take-off two months from that day. The next two months were busy ones for everyone concernedg however, they slipped by quickly and finally everything was in readiness. The new plane, christened The lVIonarch by Bob's father, the owner of the airport, proved worthy of the honor bestowed upon it, and was a masterpiece of grace and beauty both within and without. At seven o'clock sharp Bob too New York City amid the cheers of the great throng of well-wishers who had come k off from the Hamden airport, just outside of 3 to see them start out. The plane took off easily, and Bob, Larry, and Ixen heaved sighs of satisfaction as The lNIonarch was leveled off at three thousand feet. d B b had ex lained and at about seven thirty They cruised east an west as o .p , - Larry, who was looking out of the window, cried out, Look down there, Ken. That's Pittsburgh. Larry took the controls while Bob looked down upon this great metropolis which was just about beginning to come to life. Nineteen

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Q 1936 INK POT Q Of Little Fa ith T was the kind of balmy spring day which acts as a spiritual stimulus to most people, filling them with a zest for life, inspiring the most unimaginative, and bringing cheer to the forlorng in short, it was a day when even the humlslcst are made to feel great and the poorest to feel wealthy. Amongst a cluster of ancient tenement houses on the lower East side stood one, older, if possible, than the others, more shabby, its shutters hanging limply from its sides in a despairing manner, its windows thick with the dust of the filthy streets. Out of one of these windows a wretched man beheld the world, a world which for him, even on this day, held no beauty nor inspiration, so filled was he with the heartache and suffering which had been his lot these many years. Peter Rawlin's mouth was drawn in a grim line, his face was sunken and gray, and his thin frame was pathetically bent for one as young as he. The room in which he stood still bore the clammy coldness which those long, heartless winter evenings had left. The ceiling was marred by a jagged crack, and the walls were damp and peeling. Strangely enough, the man and the room were in perfect harmony, creating, it seemed. a solemn picture symbolic of defeat. Yet, in spite of this desolation there had been one thing which had given Peter some solaceg one thing which he had considered somewhat more important than the material comfort which he so sadly lacked, and, as he lifted his eyes towards the sun his face assumed an ethereal splendor and he murmured softly, I could not bear it if I were to lose faith in God, in that belief I have had comfortg without it I should have nothing, absolutely nothing. Yet, even as he uttered these words a gray cloud glided slowly toward the yellow ball and soon obliterated it entirely, and, as it did so, a chill passed through the man at the window. Suddenly his face became twisted with agony, he clasped and unclasped his hands almost convulsively, and it was then that he began to doubt, then that he cried out appalled, Can it be ? Can one suffer as I have suffered-Is not God more merciful than this? Can it all be a mere fantasy ? Tears streamed down his face as he gazed around him fearfully. The room suddenly became unbearable. It seemed to him all at once, an inanimate example of himself, housing all of the fears and doubts too much a part of him to be suffered. He must leave it, if only for an hour. It was urgent that he try to salvage whatever beliefs he had, or else his soul must surely meet an inevitable death. Dusk was settling over the city, and with it came a sharp wind, while in the distance the chimes of a church told him that it was six o'clock. Peter began to think that he had been wandering about aimlessly for too long, and Wearily he turned his steps toward home. His walk had done nothing for him, and he dreaded the thoughts which would besiege him when he reached his roomg yet there was nothing else to do, and he continued on his way, his head down, his feet dragging wearily. It was in this manner that he neared his street, his eyes blinded by tears of anguish. Suddenly he felt somebody tug sharply at his sleeve, and, upon looking up, he beheld a small man, his face aglow with a horrified expression, shouting something to him: Peter, we've been looking for you everywhere-it's a miracle-I'm telling you, it's uncanny! Five minutes after you were seen leaving the house it happened-they're all saying how strange it is-you might have been killed. It was certainly the will of God that you weren't. It's uncanny-uncanny. Slowly Peter's eyes followed the man's finger, and he beheld that which caused him to gasp in amazementg there, Twenty-one