Central High School - Aglaia Yearbook (Manchester, NH)

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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

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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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14 IUNE AGLAIA NUMBER OF THE ORACLE Ghost. The wedding is now over and the priest makes a speech on how to live happy and contented. The groom and bride descend from the altar and stand there while the peo- ple come up and wish them luck and happi- ness. Each person is given a tiny basket con- taining Iordan almonds. This is a very old custom, handed down for many generations. Then they leave church and go to the groom's house where a Ugood time may be had by all those invited, and even by the un- invited. Late in the evening the bride and groom leave for their honeymoon, but Q rest of the people remain, and they dance and sing till morning. HELEN PAPADOPLOS. MEIGE I am a person of extremes. Things that ap- peal to me are those which are odd and en- tirely different from the usual run. That is probably why I got such a thrill when the expressman drove into our driveway and left the crate which contained Meige, for Meige was certainly an extreme dog. Being half Eskimo husky and half wolf, he made an excellent lead dog for Admiral Byrd on his latest trip to the South Pole. He was the most beautiful animal I had ever seen. He stood almost four feet and measured about seven feet from the tip of his nose to the tip of his tail. His great head and intelligent face was framed with a bristling white ruff. The rest of him ranged between tan and grey in col- or. The fact that he had been shipped all over the country, used in vaudeville, and for advertising purposes, accounted for his adapt- ability to his surroundings, and his friendly nature coupled with good humor. At the time we had him, he was advertising Purina Dow Chow, the only prepared dog food used in Antarctica. As my Dad is New Hamp- shire's representative for Ralston Purina Products, we had the honor of entertaining Meige for about a week. After spending a quiet day in the Sears and Roebuck show window, Meige would come home bursting with exuberance, and ready for anything. Although we have a large kitchen it seemed to be filled to cf' acity when Meige was there. How the chil- dren loved him! Our cat resented the in- trusion and was not afraid to show it. She was almost forgotten in some remote part of the house. In the evening Meige was ushered to his sleeping quarters, the cellar. This did not always please him and he would give a howl such as his ancestors sent up to the moon when hungry and lonely. One morning I got up early for the express purpose of taking Meige for his morning airing. It was a cold morning and we were having one of the first snow falls of this win- ter. This delighted Meige, and the result was that he took me for the airing. Where he wanted to go, on we went, and we went so far that I began to get worried about get- ting to school on time. While we were run- ning through the snowy streets of the still sleeping city of Manchester it seemed to me that Meige, with his big human eyes and his friendly bark, was trying to tell me what real snow and cold weather was, and about his experiences in Little America. He seemed to be saying, You don't know what it means to have the weather sixty-five degrees below. Youlre soft. You think this is cold, but you should have been with us at the South Pole.'l I shall never forget this famous dog with which I hated so to part. Since his visit with us, other dogs have seemed to me both un- important and insignificant. LORENE COMSTOCK. EACH A LEADER The leader of the orchestra is by far the most interesting member to watch from an opera seat, outside of a trick drummer, per- haps. The classical maestro looks as if he really had his whole heart and soul in the