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Page 13 text:
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IANUARY AGLAIA OF THE ORACLE 11 A TIGHT GAME Give me the game Where the pitching's tight, And the score is close In a bitter light, Where the play is smart, And the Fielding's tops, And the lads come up With some dazzling stops, Where the innings bring To your burning gaze Some gorgeous throws And some circus plays, And a hit is real, And they earn their run, And the game's tied up With the setting sun. Then your nerves are tense, And the stands are still, And every play Is a silent thrill, Until at last, NVith the winning hit, You just explode In a roaring jit. Brother, you take Those slugging spills, Where the pitching's loose As an ocean breeze, And a homer's cheap, But Iopine That I'll take the close, Tight scrap for , Mine. DON E. STILLMAN IT IS WORTH IT? 8-l. 1-7! The steady beat of signals fol- lowed by the pounding of feet as eleven men run toitiring signal practice. Up and down the field for a half hour halted' only by the familiar 'cry from the coach, All up. A little questioning of players on how they feel and then a curt command, Get your hel- metsf' For an hour and a half the grunt and thud of smaking bodies sound out from the scrimmage. Now and then a pause to demon- strate to some player the art of taking his man. ' Darkness falls swiftly over the gridiron and scrimmage is stopped for the day. The players rush to the locker room in order to be sure of hot water for a shower. A great deal of shouting and singing pours out from strong lungs of healthy boys under the warm soothing water. The squad soon disperses in groups headed in every direction-east, west, north, south. Arriving home to a warm supper, a few hours study, and then bed, for the eye- lids seem to hang as lead. Nothing is on his mind but the thought of a similar day on the morrow. For three months this steady routine is kept by about fifty or sixty boys in our school. Do they kick? No, they enjoy it. People have often asked me if it is worth it to slave five days a week to play or sit on the bench for forty minutes on Saturday? Ask any football player. If he is a true ath- lete his answer is always YES. CARL OSBERG THE FARM I know what a farm is-an old house with a monstrous barn, some chickens, cows, horses, and a lot of land. But a few, only a few, know what a farm is really like. To me it is a place of discoveries, of pleasure, and of wonder. . When I left my city home and moved into the country, I felt very much like Alice. Everything was new, strange. I saw for the first time what a potato plant was like, how carrots and beets looked as they grew, and I found that I could not tell where the onions were planted by merely sniffing the air. Being on a farm makes you feel much
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Page 12 text:
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10 IANUARY AGLAIA OF THE ORACLE into almost unbearable beauty, and the man spoke softly. ' Moonbeam, I suppose that idealism is a stage that everyone goes through. Some of us build our thoughts so high that nothing can touch them, and others come tumbling down almost as soon as they are erected. The foundations of some of our ideals are firm, those ofothers are built on earth-work no stronger than your light. Mine are still strong. That's why I'm sitting here enjoying the beauty you have made. After reading An Apology for Idlers, I feel more than justi- fied in doing so. No answer. You know, Moonbeam, you might be one of us. One of us idealists, I mean. You've a never-ending job on your hands just as we have. No matter how much lovli- ness you make tonight, your old cousin, Sun, will change it all with a few strong charges from his sun-ray machine. We build our loveliness too, and after repeated shots from practicalness we're done for a day. But we come back, and sometimes we Win. That's why I feel rather sorry for you, Moonbeam, something bigger than yourself controls you. Father Moon is taking you away already. It's dark now, but 'Out of the night that covers me, Black as a pit from pole to pole I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul' H. BARBARA BURNS THAT DREADED MOMENT Being called down to the ofhce is noth- ing unusual, and experiences similar to this one are probably not uncommon. The telephone rings during English class and everybody glances up to see who is a public enemy now. After answering the tele- phone the teacher turns around, and with a shock you find that YOU are the victim as she' says, You are wanted at the P. A. Unite- You're out of your seat and ready to dash. -at the end of the period. In your seat you try to think back. Gee, what have I done now? I didn't skip any classes and I wasn't late. I bet I know, that teacher must have seen me reading the paper during that speech in assembly today. No, it can't be that. What in the world can it be? You glance at the clock and figure out that there are still eighteen whole minutes to Wait. Since it is perfectly obvious that you are not paying attention to the class work, the teacher asks you to continue reading. Your friends try to help by telling you that the place is on the next page. A great help- theretare only six paragraphs to choose from. After wasting a few more precious seconds in deciding which one to read, you take your chance on the last. lust your luck, it was the Hrst. The teacher, who has reason to be disgusted, tells you to report in Room 3 at 1:45. With the best of your ability you try to concentrate. The ticking of the clock tempts you to give it one more look. Iust one minute to go. It seems like three. The bell finally rings. You elbow your way out, but your pace slackens as the awful thought comes to you. At last you think. Mr. McLaren must have seen you leave school bounds at recess. Gee whiz, if I ever get expelled-1. You pivot around for another drink at the fountain to delay the dreaded moment. What will Mother and Dad think of me? Honestly, I'll never go near Bill's Lunch again. You Hnd yourself just ten steps from the outer door. You gather up all your courage but really you know you look as if you were doomed for the guillotine. Face to face with the submaster-your heart has really stopped now. Mr. McLaren looks up and says, The Red Cross would like to have you help with their Roll Call in Ward Z. SOPI-IIE PINSKA
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Page 14 text:
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12 JANUARY AGLAIA OF THE ORACLE like an explorer on some new adventure. Each little excursion discloses something dif- ferent. If you visit the barn and unlock the door, you may behold a filled stall. If you take a trip into the fields, you may discover some odd-looking Hower. In the pasture it may be wild strawberry plants, laden with tiny, delicious fruit. The woodlot may re- veal a nest, or it may delight you with its mingled odors of pine and violets. There is no other place where you can have so much fun the year 'round as on a farm. You may play hide-and-seek in the barn if you are young, and when you grow up you may hold your parties there. There is plenty of room in the fields for baseball in spring, for football in fall. There is no dan- ger of broken windows and the subsequent fifty-yard dashes for the nearest hideout. In the summer you can tramp the hay, take a swim in the brook, or if you have a court- as many do these days-you may play tennis. You have the rolling fields to slide and ski on in winter. Also there are Hooded meadows on which to skate, and there are back roads for sleigh rides. A Why do people refuse to be convinced that a farm is the best place all-round to live on? To me there is nothing like it. ELLA MAE HAMILTON OVERNIGHT HIKE Enthusiasm ran high as we planned for our overnight hike, for it was the first time many of us had camped out. The next morn- ing we blithely set out with our packs on our backs and the food supplies in our bask- ets. Of course we -thought it would be noth- ing at all to walk that four or five miles, but we soon found out that bedding rolls are ex- tremely heavy on an uphill tramp. We stop- ped several times to rest and, incidentally, to pick alfew berries. There was a shout of joy when we finally reached the clearing. Everyone set to work with a will, gathering wood for a fire and later making his bed. We went exploring after supper and came back to go gladly to bed. It had been decided to keep the fire burning all night. Girls watched in pairs for two hours at a time. As my turn came at midnight I went to sleep immediately. It seemed only ten minutes later that I was rudely awakened to be informed it was midnight. After fixing the fire we found we were hungry, but neither of us had the courage to raid the pack basket. We did not know where it was anyway. It seemed hours and hours before our watch was up, and we gratefully crawled back into bed. All too soon the sun was up, so were we. All that remained was the clean- ing up, and this was done with surprising alacrity. The hike back to camp seemed miles shorter than the one going out. When we arrived at camp we were hot and tired, but we were eager to tell of the Wonderful time we had experienced. MARGARET SMITH WHY NOT HOCKEY? Why isn't hockey sponsored by this school? We have baseball, football, track, basketball, and cross country as major sports, with golf, rifle, and winter sports teams as minor activities. There is a large student body from which recruits could be drawn. School teams throughout the state would welcome our competition. During the winter we have only one major sport in action- basketball. Many boys cannot play this game, so they are completely left out at this time. One member of our faculty would consent to coach this activity, I am sure, for I have often heard him say that he would like to do so.
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