Central Commercial High School - Hour Glass Yearbook (New York, NY)

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IT IS FOR US THE LIVINC, RATHER, TO BE DEDICATED TO THE UNFINISHED WORK WHICH THEY WHO FOUCHT HAVE THUS FAR SO NOBLY ADVANCED .... Ask them, Mr. Lincoln: Are you forging another portent for a world in blood soaked agony? Can you say, K'Not we, we are the architects of a brave new world. THAT FROM THESE HONORED DEAD NVE TAKE IN- CREASED DEVOTION TO THAT CAUSE FOR VVHICH THEY CAVE . . . THE LAST FULL MEASURE OF DEVO- TIONV' You prince, can all your gold buy one easy moment today? You beggar, what are your wares beside yesterday's tears? You, indillerent one, does your sheath of apathy dress you for tomorrow? Search all the castles of your mind, retrack your fervored paces, And ind the empty echoes of promises you never meant to keep. You are men who seek a glittering portion treading over the yawning grave. THAT WE HERE HIGHLY RESOLVE THAT THESE DEAD SHALL NOT HAVE DIED IN VAIN .... l But rest easy, Mr. Lincoln, in your vast and brooding loneliness. The measured malice, the open greed, the festering wrong, will not prevail against the unburied dead. The earth abides forever, and with the earth, the people. Your people, Mr. Lincoln, the ones you loved and understood, The struggling, dumb, fumbling people, who alone can light the huge hurry- ing crowd with one smile, Who touch tenderly the earth's goodness and make it Hourish, Who, unmasked, offer their bodies to the tyrant's steel, Who have bled and died and have been lost, And who will bleed and die and will be found again! For their destiny is greater and more enduring than the words or the folly of all proud men. They are the imperishable repository of greatness and humility, Of genius, variety, strength, hope, promise, Of dreams, born, dead, and fulfilled, Of dreams, unborn, alive, and yet to be fulilled. Dreams and people are immortal, They go on forever. Something the empty seekers and searchers do not know. Rest easy, Mr. Lincoln .... OF THE PEOPLE, BY THE PEOPLE, FOR THE PEOPLE, SHALL NOT PERISH FROM THE EARTH BY CEORGENA WAHNON 19

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Tice bead Wino Healer ie You prince, of the fat purse, or proud heart, You beggar, of the endless tears, You indiilerent one, of the anxious inertia! Do you remember Abe Lincoln? Abe Lincoln, that vast and brooding man, vvith the great and terrible loneliness. Having known great things, it is not Lincolnls lot, Even in eternity, to be content with silence. Snarl at him: Let the dead stay buried and forgotten. VVe must heed the living. But he is of the dead . . . never forgotten, ' An infinite, brooding, lonely conscience. And hid thunder still resounds from the hollows of the sky. Little men, tell him of your achieving hours. Hungry men, tell him of the embattled bickering for a scrap of bread. Great men, tell him of your scramble for a scrap of land, Of the parades, the helpless fury, the vain might, The measured malice, the open greed, the festering Wrong. 'AWITH MALICE TOWARDS NONE, WITH CHARITY FOR ALL, WITH FIRMNESS IN THE RIGHT AS GOD GIVES US THE RIGHT .... Ask them, Mr. Lincoln, How stands the Union, neighbors? Can you say, l'Four square, rock bottomed, one and indivisible? NO-NO-NO! 18

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Z WJ!!! xKiihT mf X f X fi f Q L.. - 4. ?I'll,6 tl-ation They're wheeling her into the operating room now, but before they per- form the operation which will determine whether or not she shall live, I want you to know her story. It all started a few years ago while Christina was singing an aria from Verdi's La Traviataf' That was the first time she was to sing that season and Christina was naturally anxious. Rosetta, her attendant, was fixing her hair and gown, but nothing seemed to please Christina. The singer was usually so cool and serene on opening night, but it seemed that to-night there would be someone in the audience whom she wanted to impress very much. Christina went onto the stage with a lot of confidence in herself. She started singing, when suddenly someone from the audience began to laugh. Not knowing the cause of the laughter, she continued singing. Then the entire audience seemed to be laughing at her because her voice was screechy as she reached the high note. Christina's face turned white, but she con- tinued and as soon as the selection was over, she rushed to her dressing room and just stood there-all the pain and agony twisting her features. Standing there and not crying made it even more unbearable. It was pitiful to see all the anguish pent up within her, she sensed it and resented my being there. Trying to console her made matters worse-she wouldn't recognize me as her friend and seemed to think everyone was against her. Wlien she went home that night she started packing and quietly left New York. Christina was neither seen nor heard from in that city since. She had savings which amounted to quite a large sum and with it she bought a house in the country. Z0