Central High School - Aglaia Yearbook (Manchester, NH)

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i I IUNE AGLAIA NUMBER or THE ORACLE 11 The sinister and ,even prevalent question come up: What aim I going to do with so much time? We have no answer. The first day goes, the time is whiled away, in waiting, iii expecting and in hoping for something to laappen. The succeeding days are spent in ,like manner. Books are started, but never finished, letters are started but never finishedl previously planned trips never materialize. Then somethingl strange occurs. One actu- ally begins to wish we were back in school. Unbelievable as itl sounds, this is invariably the case, and as tiniie goes on the desire looms large. One hopesi for the clang of the bell calling the flock back to the ancient halls of learning. The clang comers, the flock goes back, but with them goes an age-old question, When do we get out again? l l..,ll-l- A CHILD AND THE SEA One day as I played by the sea Its surging waters rushed to me With gifts of polished stones and shells, And filled the holes I'd dug for wells. But as I played another day Its gentle waters flowed away To leave me pretty shells and more, For me to play' with on the shore. KALEOPE HARTOFELIS. OUR, OPERETTAS In order to make this operetta a success, you must enjoy doing itll' Advice of this kind is often given bylour able teachers while we are putting on dur operettas. We do have fun, we also woiik hard and long. As soon as school is setllled in September, chorus classes begin on fheir project. We learn the lines and music yvell, then a month later try- outs for the soloi parts are held. These try- outs are carried lout in a truly professional manner, and the principals are chosen not only for their voices but for their acting abil- ity. Afternoon and evening rehearsals in singing and speaking are commenced for the principals. Students, called chorus leaders, are coached before hand to help in rehearsing the entire chorus. After the chorus and the principals have rehearsed individually with the orchestra, the whole cast is combined. If the basic and preliminary work has been faithfully done, it is not too difficult to put the production together. Most of the credit for our successful oper- ettas goes to the coaches who spend hours planning and working on scenery, actions, costumes and hundreds of minute details. The pleasure that the entire chorus gets on opening night is ample compensation for the really hard work. OLGA KOUKOS. 1,,l,l1L.l- THAT WHICH IS OLD It was pitifully drab, that little rusty gate. Who would have known that long ago it was brave, new, modern-the pride of Danvers Road. Gaunt gables stretched their weary length from end to end of the weatherbeaten building. What was once a home that was loved and admired, now remained merely a shell hiding ruin and deprivation. While a new democracy was fighting for its very being, famous men gathered in the broad dining room of Davis' Tavern to dis- cuss vital questions of state. Could they speak, these dark hand-hewn walls of the country rendezvous might tell tales of bloody brawls and feverish celebration. Town folk had not been kind to the fan- atic man who had established and been the first teacher in Miller's School. They who had grudgingly sent their children there had unwittingly committed their good, plain names as a witness to posterity. The worn doorsill is a mute reminder of all which has given place to the modern and the new.

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10 IUNE AGLAIA NUMBER OF THE ORACLE ing they won't fire. CBoth hasten through the window. The plane passes over the vil- lage, dropping two bombs. One hits the house where the two are hidden. It is blown to pieces. As the wreckage and sand settle, one sees the howls and other remnants from the lunch lying where they had been left, un- disturbed. A dim light is shining on them. It becomes brighter and brighter. The firing grows more distant until all is in silencej BEATRICE DUBOIS. II BRAVING THE STORM SCENE ONE: Aboard a large ocean liner shortly after a nationally known ship disas- ter. Mr. and Mrs. George board the ship at ten-thirty in the evening and are shown to their stateroom by the stewardess. A thick fog is hovering over the harbor as they pre- pare to retire. When Mrs. George is sure that her husband is asleep fsnoringj, she crawls quietly out of bcd and places two life pre- servers at its foot. Back under the covers, after much tossing and turning, she finally drops off to sleep. In the middle of the night she is awakened by the loud din of a fog horn. She sits up in bed as the ship rocks to and fro. Mrs. G.: Bill, wake up! I think something has happened. ' Mr. G.: What did you say? Mrs. G.: Wake up, Bill. Please get up, somethings wrong. Mr. G.: Oh, all right. fHe is in the act of standing up when the boat lurches, and he is thrown to the Hoor.j Mrs. G.: Oh, Bill, are you hurt? Answer me, Bill. Oh, dear, what ...... P Mr. G.: I'm all right, Mary, don't baby me so. I just lost my balance-that's all. QHe goes over to the port-hole and opens it wider. A voice is heard from the deckj STRANGER: Yes, sir, it's mighty tough wind. I wouldn't be at all surprised if there was trouhle at sea tonight. It was just such a night as this, when the ....., went down. What a calamity that was, I never ..,... fMrs. George gets up, closes the port-hole, and goes over to Mr. George who is sitting upon the edge of his bed, his head in his handsj Mrs. G.: Bill, did you hear that? I told you I didnit want to go to Europe. I'd be just as satisfied in Florida. Let's get off now, I know the boat will go down. Mr. G.: fHalf smilingj All right, Mary, get on your swim suit and we'll start. Mrs. G.: Oh, Bill, do be sensible. Mr. G.: Go to bed, Mary. If anything hap- pens I'1l let you know. CH1: gets into bed and is soon asleep.-Mrs. George has a mind of her own. She puts on her deck costume and sits in a chair close to the doorj SCENE TWO: It is dawn. Mr. George awakens to Hnd Mrs. George fully prepared for any emergency, sitting in the chair sound asleep. He dresses and goes out on deck. A few minutes later he comes back, laughing so hard that Mrs. George awakens and looks around. Mrs. G.: What are you laughing at, Bill? I think you're mean to laugh at me. What if the boat didn't go down last night! That's no sign it wonit tonight. Oh I ........ Mr. G.: lust a minute, Mary. The boat didn't even leave the harbor last night. It was so rough at sea they didn't put out. QHe sits down and rocks with laughtenj IANE CLARK. THE OLD STORY Every student impatiently awaits the com- ing of a vacation. No matter how brief it is to be, everyone has plans and 'mental pic- tures worked out as to how it will be spent. A certain celestial radiance appears on the countenance of those who, like caged pan- thers, await the flinging open of the door to Freedom! The day comes--the First day of vacation.

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13 IUNE AGLAIA NUMBER OF THE ORACLE Years have done their very best to destroy every vestige of that which is old. In our lust for luxury and convenience we have for- gotten to pay tribute to the work of our fore- fathers. Our modern, well-equipped homes are rapidly crowding out of mind and sight every memorial to fortitude and strength. Onr own busy cities, and beautiful towns have been conceived with bravery, manliness, bloodshed, and intelligence. In our love for progress and advancement, let us not anni- hilate that which is the spirit of America. BARBARA GRANT. TO CENTRAL Dear Central, we now sing farewell With spirits soaring high, Four years have Hed too quick to tell, And parting time is nigh. O Green and White, we bid goodbye To thy dear hallowed halls, Thy name we'll praise with happy sigh Where'er our future calls. DOROTHY MERCER. THE WIND As I sit at my desk the wind is howling around the house like a thing possessed. I am glad to be indoors, cozy and warm. Here I can meditate on the wild deeds of this un- tamed element. I can see a busy downtown street. The wind is playing havoc with everything it can touch. It whirls papers madly about the despairing street cleaner. It snatches hats while owners clutch them grimly, some too late. Up a side street it rushes to strike the person on the corner with a strong blast. Then it whirls around a telephone pole and attacks the same victim from the rear. Now it catches the skirts of a woman boarding a street car and leaves her in a panic. Awnings Hap, dirt flies, nothing loose escapes from this-well, it really is just a swiftly moving body of air, but I always think of it as a madcap person who loves to cause confusion. Only something alive could have the wild ways of the wind. On the other hand, it would take quite a mad person to be so fool- ish. Take the wind's behavior on the des- ert. There it catches up millions of particles of sand and whirls them into the air. Up, up, around in dizzy circles, then down to form a beautiful sand dune with graceful swirls and curves, a marvel to behold, a thing that would take man countless hours of un- tiring labor to duplicate. Not content with this, it again snatches up the sand particles, and with ruthless hands wipes away its work of art. I would think of wind in about the same manner as Shakespeare characterized Puck- A wild, gleeful boy capable of wonderful feats, yet able to destroy them without a thought or feeling of regret. CHARLOTTE WILLIAMS. RUT Harry lit another cigarette, sank back in the battered chair, looked around the room, and snorted. He was fed up. Life had been a steady stream of small jobs and cheap flats. All Hats look alike. Like this one, he thought. There was the same second-hand furniture, the same threadbare rugs, the same atmosphere of squalor. He stood up and walked around. Tried to get his mind off the subject. But the old pictures and cheap wallpaper leered at him. He felt trapped. Trapped by old magazines, old lamps, and dusty old curtains. Even the sports section of the evening tabloid failed to snap him out of his reverie. He reached for another cigar- ette, but the package was empty. That's funny, he mused aloud, thought I had one left. Well, a little air might do me good, and besides, I gotta call the boss about that job. He walked out into the hall, jammed