Central High School - Aglaia Yearbook (Manchester, NH)

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THE ORACLE .nes a perfect stream. Some like the -sh sparkle of the water in early May and the promise of green leaves. Some prefer June, with lower water, long evenings, and a rich green countryside. Still others love July, with the roads dusty, and thunderheads rolling on the horizon, and the trout hiding in the deep, cool pools. I prefer to Hsh in April. April fishing is not a tempting pastime for the man who enjoys his comfort but is a distinct challenge for him who really loves Nat- ure in all phases. The streams are swollen with snow water, and the early bird often finds ice on the rim of his favorite pool. In fact, it seems to be much colder than in December or February. Ice forms on the exposed line and even between the Hngers of the lisherman's hands. If you take the trout's point of view into consideration, you ought to be able to get your share of early fish. The trout are hungry and far from hnicky in satis- fying their appetite. The water is murky and turbulent, and even the inexperi- enced angler need not fear striking too hard with the line. You must beware the weakness of spirit which would make you quit when the going gets tough. Perhaps there is no weakness of spirit in the Hsherman who gives battle to the stream condi- tions of April, who tries hard, and dehes discouragement. It is the time which will test the stoutest and most enthusiastic to the utmost. Early fishing requires ability and endurance. If it did not so require, there would be many more trout caught in April. GEORGE E. HALL A MOMENT WITH WATSON Some men claim to be great, but the truly great man is the one who has led a worthwhile life and is willing to share his experiences with others. The first thing that struck me was the utter simpleness in dress and manner of Mr. Watson. I had pictured him so from his autobiography, but I had never ex- pected to realize that sensation in an actual contact. I Hrst saw the man as he bent over a conglomeration of apparatus which represented the birth and growth of the telephone. He smiled quietly as he fondled an instrument which he had created years ao. As I entered, he straightened, and extended his smooth, delicate, and sensitive hand to clasp mine. The clasp was so comfortable that I lost any tense excitedness - natural accompaniment of an introduction to a great man. His gleam of interest and willingness filled the room, and his clear blue eyes seemed to smile encouragement to my simple questions. It was hard to realize that the man who sat here talking to me was well past the age when most of us will be merely waiting for the day when we shall be called. He had come hundreds of miles to talk to a group of students in a willing but labor-weakened voice. Now he has gone to the ages, but his heart and spirit live on in the hearts and spirits of many men who have spent a Moment With Watson, one they will never forget. FRANK A. FARNSWORTH, IR.

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Uiiiiiii a jxf l!!i1 f Q'- ' T xt 4 'QT' ii X J T rfrrwf L: ,snr A CLASS PRAYER Dear Father, we ask Your blessing On Central High. Help us to go on our respective ways, Knowing that fairness and virtue Live in Truth, and that To love is to obey. Oh, give us to remember The happy days we knew! TXTELVIN OTTERSON AT ARLINGTON The auditorium needed no decoration to make it look festive. The walls were ornate with gilded artistry. The ceiling was rich with golden scrolls and whorls against a background rich blue that sug- gested the cloudless evening sky. Here and there stars caught on the gold leaf of their five points stray beams from the giant spotlight. Huge chandeliers of crystal caught the colors of the spotlights and footlights so keenly that each little pendant flashed a tiny rainbow and the whole was like a dazzling Niagara of jewels. To all this brilliant beauty youthful enthusiasm had added balloons of every shape and size, attached to the wall brackets. Long, vari-colored streamers, suspended by invisible wires from the cathedral-like ceiling formed an arbor- like network overhead. Every guest who passed through the arched doorway was carried by the breath-taking splendor. Members of vic- torious and losing casts alike thrilled with rapture but rarely experienced. Every face radiated happiness and ex- pressed complete abandonment to the joy of the evening. The rich colors of the evening gowns, the fragrance of the corsages, the ines- capable slight formality of an occasion where so many were strangers to each other, all contributed to a sort of grand- eur which kept level the youthful spirit of the dancers so that light spirits led not to light heads. A vivacious blues singer, warbling with a perfectly synchronized orchestra, completed the setting for the most mem- orable night in the life of every Thespian present. I. HERBERT BLAIS SPRING When a young manls fancy turns to - fishing It would be impossible to draw on paper a picture of an ideal trout brook, for every fisherman has his own idea of

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THE ORACLE A LETTER 418 Beacon Street Manchester, N. H. November, 1934 Dear Shirley, You say that your idea of a perfect day is one of utter gaiety and frivolous pleasure. Such a day is to my mind al- together too common in this hectic age and is inclined to leave a bad taste in one,s mouth. I should like to make my perfect day a search for peace - not merely a surface calm but rather that inward peace that passeth all under- standing. Curiously enough, to me such a peace is more often achieved through continuous, monotonous mo- tion, such as traveling on an onrushing train, than in a quiet secluded spot. So I would begin my perfect day at dawn -a cold, grey dawn-in the cabin of a small ocean liner. Salty fog wafting in through a porthole, the weird creaking of the vessel, at intervals the sharp fog- horn's piercing blasts, and the pitching and surging of the ship under me all are necessary elements in my awaken- ing. Up to the slippery pitching deck then, Qwith apologies to Miltonj, tramp- ing around it at least six times before partaking of a hearty English breakfast, even though many of the passengers express a preference for a messy con- coction beloved by the French but ab- horred by myself-onion soup. For the remainder of the morning, my book and solitary deck chair fthe other pas- sengers being appropriately seasickj beckon me. My errant fancy next wafts me to a Hawaiian beach-great expanses of daz- zling white sand, coupled with a color- 'l'5f'1i ful panorama of beach umbra.. various specimens of humanity clad in variegated bathing suits. Surely, per- fect peace can be found here, floating on one's back far from shore with eyes closed to blot out the blinding blue of tropic skies. The afternoon shadows deepen and lengthen. Twilight falls and I find my- self walking in the hushed stillness of an English garden, - the type of garden made famous by Yardley's perfume ad- vertisements. An invisible and far away pianist fdistance lends enchantmentj is softly playing one of Chopinls waltzes, and, as is ideal in such cases, the fount- ain dreamily tinkles an accompaniment. So much for the garden, a delightful place to linger for an interval but to pall in time upon a nature of rapidly changing moods. The inescapable de- sire to be moving reasserts itself and I finish my day in a roaring plane speed- ing over black landscape sprinkled with lights. Perhaps such a day would not ac- complish my perfect peace but it cer- tainly would bring me closer to that coveted ideal so difficult of attainment. Sincerely, GERALDINE DUNBAR PARADES A parade is one thing I can't resist. XVhether it is a large holiday parade or just the Snowshoers starting out for a Canada or Maine convention, the sound of a band lures me to the street. I love to hear the music faintly in the distance, then gradually becoming louder and