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

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ink pot fulfillment 0NE Iafe affernoon, in his smaII, one-room flaf, I-Ierr Sfraus, once a well-known German arfisf, saf crouched over a Iow fable, puffing a few Iasf-minufe fouches fo an easel painfing on which he had been working many monfhs. Though his deff fingers were sfeady as he finished if, neverfheless, once fhe brush was down, he had wifh a greaf efforf fo confrol himself. No one knew of fhe hardships Herr Sfraus had been fhrough in fhe Iasf few years. No one knew fhaf fhis emaciafed old man, wifh his long, unkempf hair and ragged clofhes, had once been wealfhy, his fame known fhroughouf fhe world. Cerfainly, no one realized fhaf fhis poor arfisf had been work- ing sfeadily for some fime pasf fo make one final painfing, a painfing in which he wanfed fo represenf fhe life he now wanfed fo Iead . Wifh slow, falfering sfeps, Herr Sfraus fook fhe canvas over fo fhe cracked win- dow, so as fo gef a beffer look af if. If was fruly a beaufiful picfure, one in which only Herr Sfraus could express himself. Affer safisfying himself fhaf he could make no furfher improvemenfs, he resolved fo fake fhe painfing fo Herr Brugard, fhe famous arf dealer, and gef his opinion of if. I-Ie quickly puf on his faffered coaf and, wrap- ping fhe picfure in a piece of canvas, sfarfed on his way, hopeful and eager. Arriving af Herr Brugard's shop, he fimidly enfered. Recognizing fhe man in fhe chair by fhe window as fhe famous arf dealer himself, I-Ierr Sfraus caufiously approached. Do you wish fo see me? asked Brugard, Yes, answered I-Ierr Sfraus in a quavering voice. I wish you fo do me a favor: if will mean a greaf deal fo me and if will fake you only a few minufes. I would like you fo look af fhis picfure and fell me, honesfly and frankly, whaf you fhink of if. You see--if is fhe Iasf painfing I shall ever be able fo do. Very well, answered Herr Brugard kindly. Unwrapping fhe painfing, he sfared af if silenfly for a long fime. Awe and wonder passed over his feafures. Finally, furn- ing foward I-Ierr Sfraus, wifh fears in his eyes, he said: This painfing is a masferpiecel If musf hang wifh only fhe greafesfl Wifh a reverenf sigh, as if peace had suddenly descended on him, Herr Sfraus sank down, a crumbled heap, before his picfure of FuIfiIImenf. MARY I-IERSHENSTEIN, '39, autumn If fhe aufumn of life is half as lovely As fhe aufumn of earfh, I shall nof grieve For fhe vanished days of a rapfurous spring Nor beg for one momenf's reprieve. If winfer should come, I am confenf To leave my life in fhe hands of a God Whose mind could conceive fhe aufumn of earfh And sfar if wifh asfers and goldenrod. FANNIE MILLER, '39, decorum The friumph of I should over I would. VIRGINIA OPPENI-IEIMER, '39, forfy

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ink pot enchantment abroad THE booming of fhe fog horn as if bellowed forfh ifs final warning drowned ouf fhe bon voyage chorusing of fhe fhrong. Bidding farewell fo my parenfs amidsf fhis fense afmosphere of excifemenf, I sfarfed for my long-awaifed vacafion abroad. A fhrilling sensafion gripped me as fhe liner sailed down fhe bay. and fhe fwinkling lighfs of fhe New York skyline slowly faded info oblivion. ' For fhe nexf eighf days I enjoyed fhe relaxafion which fhe ocean voyage affords, and when I was nof occupied wifh shuffle board or deck fennis, my favorife pasfime was fo lie on a deck chair iusf gazing af fhe sea and sky. If was on fhe eighfh day fhaf my dream began. Juffing ouf of fhe sea, bleak and bare and enveloped in misf, were fhe Scoffish moors. They were my firsf sighf of Europe. During fhe ensuing fen weeks, my ifinerary covered Scofland, Norway, Sweden, and Denmark. Each nafion fascinafed me. and I was impressed by fhe fair coloring and rugged beauf of fhe Norwegian race, fhe charm and courfesy of fhe Scandinavians. fhe canals of gfockholm, 'rhe New York afmosphere of Oslo and fhe one million bicycles of Copenhagen. However, I have never seen such an awe-inspiring sighf as fhaf mar- velous creafion of nafure, 'rhe Norwegian fiord. Waferfalls, gracefully flowing down a mounfainside from a heighf of 'ren Thousand feef, massive glaciers, deep ravines and winding lakes-all were a parf of fhese glorious fiords. All foo soon I found myself homeward bound in fhe midsf of a furious sea and a howling hurricane. Once again I was greefed by fhe New York skyline, brillianf in fhe noonday sun. If had nof changed, buf I had, for in fhose fwo monfhs my knowledge of fhe world and ifs people had been broadened fo give me a more 'Ioleranf and under- sfanding viewpoinf foward my fellowmen. CAROL J. KADEN, '38. the vision AMASS of black hair hung abouf his head like fhe long fur on a shaggy mongrel. Thick, bushy brows framed fhe alrnosf hidden eyes whose gaze was calm and sfeadfasf buf now held a look of fhe beafen in if. Thaf fhin skelefon of a nose, formed so perfecfly info a forehead far foo low, was somehow ouf of place in fhe homely face. wifh ifs fhick, poufing lips. Life had dealf him difficulf cards and he could nof play his hand. His musical soul craved expression and a chance fo show fhe world whaf he could do. He knew every nofe on fhe keyboard by hearf. The half-limping gaif had a fellfale air as he walked along fhe boulevard, fhe fhin rain falling Iighfly on his head. He leaned over fhe bridge and sfared info fhe swirling wafers as he muffered, lf's no good-Life is roH'enl Then, looking up info fhe gray sky, he cried, There is no God! There is no mercy! Tears rolled down his cheeks and fhe man sobbed. God, he prayed, bring her back fo me. The sky fhundered: Iighfning flashed: and a girl sfood before him. Her flaming hair hung in damp fendrils abouf her noble head and her wef dress clung fo her supple figure, revealing more fhan if hid. Her green eyes-he always fhou hf fhey looked like caf's eyes-were sef in a pale face wifh red, moisf lips. Abouf her hung an air of mysfery and inexpressible beaufy. The sea roared and fhe vision faded. Only realify remained and fhaf is so fasfe- less fo one alone and unloved. People passed, casf curious glances af fhe sfranger, fhen walked on wifh a careless shrug. A splash, and a momenf lafer all was quief. The sky fhundered, lighfning flashed, buf fhe boulevard was empfy. EDITH WILSON, '39. 'rhirfy-nine

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ink pol as you like it UNE affernoon I feIT very mischievous. I had iusT finished reading ALICE IN WON- DERLAND and decided To see if I could walk Through The mirror. To my surprise, IT gave way easily and I sfepped info a world unlike my own. Everyfhing was different IT was old England many years ago. The women were elaborafel gowned in long, flowing robes and wore Tall, poinTed haTs wiTh long veils. 'I felf Terribly ouT of place as everyone looked aT me queerly. Finally, a good-looking youfh came up To me. I'le had sTraighT, sandy, bobbed hair, sparkling brown eyes and a charming ace. I could see ThaT he had a IoT of personaIi+y. Who arT Thou and whom didsT Thou wish To see? I gave him my name and asked him who he mighf be. To my amazemenT, he an- swered, I am Rosalind. Thou hasT sTepped info Shakespeare's famous Tale, AS YOU LIKE IT. I was delighfed as Rosalind is one of my favorife characTers in Shakespeare. I hardly knew how To sTarT, buT I began by saying, Rosalind, I have always longed To see you. Tell me abouf yourself and OrIandol If Thou wouIdsT, she answered poIiTeIy, accompany me To my home in The foresT where I dwell wiTh my fair cousin, Celia, searching for my faTher. Agreeing To her will, we sTarTed Through The foresT, jumping over sfreams and laughing aT The Trees wiTh RosaIind carved on Them. AfTer Telling me her unforfu- naTe sTory, Rosalind broughT me To a shepherd's huT where no one seemed To be aT home. I was glad. Refreshed wiTh a drink of goaT's milk, we saT down on The Trunk of a fallen Tree To Talk. I Told her of The wonderful world in which I lived, wiTh subways, Taxis, Trolley cars, busses, eIeva+ors, airplanes and so many oTher Things. She appeared dazzled, so I asked, Why don'T you come To where I live? Ph, no! she exclaimed. I would be surprised and I know I would noT like il' aT a II Finally, I Told her ThaT I had To go. I could noT waiT To meeT her cousin and Orlando, so Rosalind showed me Through The mirror and inTo my home again. I was glad To be back, buT I enjoyed my visiT and nexT Time I shall waiT To see Celia, her cousin, and Orlando, her faifhful lover. SUZANNE GOLDBERG, '4I. skyscrapers BROWN hair, brown eyes, brown haT and suiT seemed To HT wifh Dale's mood as she h crossed The sTreeT. Her skyscrapers seemed To be swaying wiTh each honking om. Lake Placid seemed a far-off lace. JusT a week before, she had figure-skaTed her way To The amaTeur TiTIe ThaT hacfigiven her Ten days in New York. Now she had all she could do To keep her equilibrium on The ice ThaT coafed Fiffh Avenue. She had Tried To geT a parT in The Ice Carnival. buf There were no vacancies. She Tried ofher places, buT iT was always The same sTory, LeT you know. She had used up eighT days of her recious sTay. As she neared The rink in Radio Cify, she decided To skaTe for pracfice. A IiTTIe Iafer she was one of The moving figures, once around, a figure eighT, a Top Turn, and a few ofhers. She sTarTed To go around again, buT as she came To The edge of The rink, she heard someone call her. From Then on, she was in a dream, sailing on and on. She pinched herself. She! She was asked by a producer To come The following morning To be in a play, To skaTe on a sTage in New York Cify, The +aIIes+ cify in The world. Her skyscrapers Touched ground. EDITH MAYER, '4I. forfy-one