Central High School - Aglaia Yearbook (Manchester, NH)

Page 17 text:

l LITERARY 15 The Antique Dealer By Gwen Resnfk Riding along the main highway one can- not help noticing the many antique shops. Having started a collection of glass, I stopped at one that I thought most attractive. The setting of this little shop was appealing to the eye. Surrounded by elms on each side, the sun playing beautifully through the large windows, iridescent rays gleamed on the many pieces of glass on the shelves. As I en- tered, I was at once fascinated by the odds and ends thrown carelessly around, and I wondered what history surrounded them. Though everything had charm, the mustiness gave me an old feeling. My reverie was shat- tered by a man's voice, .........,.. Good afternoon, Miss. Interested in glass or furniture? Upon hearing his voice, I wondered where he was. Lo and behold! From the most obscure place came a short, stout, jolly-looking fellow, who undoubtedly was part of the place. In his most charming manner he started his sales talk, laughingly saying, .,,.,....,.. I bet you know a bargain when you see it. When he laughed, I noticed that he shook all over, and his already red nose seemed to become redder, as if a light was within. He always greatly enjoyed his own jokes, and laughed more readily than his listener. He was of such a very friendly nature, and his offer of a bargain was so appealing, that I grasped at the opportunity of owning precious glass at a nominal price, only to find out that he had outsmarted me. But the lure of the place drew me back. Well, welll My pretty Miss, here you are again. This time I have a beautiful piece for you, one that you will be proud to own. After that remark I really felt that the trip had not been in vain. Upon inspecting the dish, I found the mark of the maker that I was especially interested in. How much for this piece?l' He quoted his price laughingly, and with- out a moment's thought I retorted, ........ All right-I will take it. Amazed at my quick decision, he hesitated and quibbled, ...,,.....,. Shall I wrap it up? Yes, I answered, a bargain is a bargain, as you always say. And home I went with my most treasured possession-thanks to the humor of the jolly antique dealer. - You, Too, Can Be ---- By Virginia Pritchard In this high school every senior girl is a budding glamour girl with great, fuzzy white angora sweaters. Never a dull color, for they stay clean too long-and after all! A girl must be able to say, Well, I've washed mine four times and it's still like new, even if it does resemble a shaved French poodle on a summer day. She is blonde f gentlemen prefer blondesj, but is most definitely not blue-eyed-the style now being large brown eyes. They go so well with blond hair! Anyone who reads the ads knows a Hawless complexion is necessary for happiness, success, and existence itself. She has her lessons always prepared, although I can't imagine where she finds time, what with all the plays, clubs, committees, and magazines for which she works. She must ski like a magazine cover girl, skate like a Heinie, swim like-shall we say, fish, dance like a Rogers, and play bridge like the pince- nez'd president of a woman's club. She is up to all the latest styles and in a pinch, can, with great ingenuity, invent her own. It seems she'll soon be so busy being ideal that she'll forget her own identity.

Page 16 text:

2293 W S? ,X Side ol: the Road By lirll-i' Iuflnmmc' Thi- trees were bent with their heavy load ol' lrcshlysfallen snow, each bough nodding its lit-ad as il' in tribute to the beauty Nature had cast in its midst. The Hrs looked like wild, young Amazons carelessly letting the lm-cxcs blow through their streaming tresses. .Xu occasional imprint, perhaps of a young tlccr. a buck. or a lox, broke the evenness ol' ilu- pure whim- mantle. To the left was a tlancing. crystal clear, babbling brook. sing- ing ll song of defiance to lack Frost. This picturesque setting was and always will be virtually a hunter's winter paradise.

Page 18 text:

Color Music Hy lmrn .'X'l1f1nl.f Have you ever seen a palette Such as artists sometimes use, And heard the strangest symphony ln reds and greens and blues? liaeh color is a ditlerent tune, Each tint and shade and hue, Are melodies from everywhere, That are wafted home to you. Oh, light sky blue is whispery, The sound of rushing winds, And violet is a chorus Of fairy violins. Red is a fiery trumpet blast, Heard in blaring bandsg While yellow is a soothing sound, Of shifting desert sands. Black is a solemn funeral march, You can hear the ehoir boys sing: VVhite, as pure as virgins' robes, ls the beat of an angel's wing. Purple is triumphant, Harmonious orations. It makes one think of royal things, Of kings and coronations. Steel-gray suggests some foreign shore Where beats a stormy seag lt crashes on the rock-strewn coast And roars in agony. Next time you see a paint box-f ll you listen as Well as see- You'll hear the music l've described, Only more exquisitely. l er- Sl