Central High School - Aglaia Yearbook (Manchester, NH)

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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

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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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5 IUNE AGLAIA NUMBER OF THE ORACLE 13 on his hat, slipped into his worn coat, and went out. Once out on the street, Harry felt better. The cool night air seemed to freshen him up. He shifted his coat and walked a little faster. He wasn't old yet, but the spring had left his step. Life held no illusions for him. He no longer dreamed of glowing achievement, of power, or of fame. His main concern in life was to keep his job as accountant at the office of the importing company. He stopped in front of the lighted win- dow of the second-hand store. The mass of knick-knacks there usually interested him, but tonight he didn't see them. He was thinking of the job he'd been offered. His company was opening a branch office in Brazil, in the heart of the coffee growing region. An accountant would be needed, and he had been offered the post. It wasn't a gold mine, his boss had pointed out, but it was a chance to get away and see something of the world. Of course the climate wasn't very good, and it would be tough sledding for a few years. He turned abruptly and walked down the Street to the drug store. After the clerk had given him his cigar- ettes he gazed idly at the newspapers on the rack. He opened the package and lit up. There was nothing in the headlines that in- terested him, so he went over to the tele- phone, dropped a nickel in, and dialed his boss' number. While he was waiting for an answer he went over the facts again. Life, adventure, a chance to get ahead, but it was risky. The oiiice might fold up, or the cli- mate might get him. He had heard stories about the climate and how it affected men. No, he decided, just as he had a dozen other times. It's too risky. Some other guy, but not me. Out on the street again he walked slowly toward his dingy Hat. He wasn't sorry he had refused the job but he couldn't get rid of a feeling that he had missed something. It was too risky, he repeated, too darned riskyf' Still through his Hngers. Perhaps if he had tried ...... . RUSSELL K. WOODBURY. A GREEK WEDDING The organist is slowly playing ...,.. the wed- ding march. Then we see the bridegroom coming up the aisle to the altar with his father, where he awaits the bride. Then the bride comes up the aisle with her father, and following her are the bridesmaids and ushers and the ring bearer. The bride and bride- groom step in front of the altar and stand together waiting for the priest to begin the ceremony. The music stops and the ushers and bridesmaids form a semi-circle around the couple. A table is set out with a loaf of bread, wine in a small bottle, two candles for the best man and his wife, and most im- portant of are two wreaths of white beads, joined together by a wire also covered with beads. The priest starts his sermon of the wedding and after he has finished, the best man, whom we call Kombaro, places the wreaths on the heads of the bride and groom. That is the climax of the wedding, because they now are pronounced man and wife. The Kombaro exchanges the wreaths on the heads of the couple three times, from one head to the other. Then the Kombaro'l places the ring on the bride's finger and ex- changes it three times with the ring on the groom's finger, and then they are put on to stay. The priest then holds up the Holy Bible, which the groom kisses and then the bride. He then has the groom and bride and the Kombaro and his wife sip wine from a glass three times. Then the priest gives the bride and groom a lighted candle to hold, and gives the Kombaro and his wife the same. Then the couple and the brides- maids and the ushers walk three times around the table that contains the Bible. They do everything three times in honor of the Trinity of Father , Son and Holy