Central High School - Central Yearbook (Cleveland, OH)

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8 J$lotor=poat ftace ilmpromptu This incident occurred last summer at the St Clair Flats. I may mention here that this part of the country is ideally situated for the use of all kinds of launches, inasmuch as there are hundreds of miles of waterways, widely dispersed in direction, but in no place out of landsight. Notwithstanding this, it is not an uncommon occurrence for boats to get lost in some of the complex channels and passages. Among the many rival boat owners up there, one of them, a friend of mine, was very talkative, nay, even boastful concerning the merits of his boat. It might be argued that he had good cause to think well of it for in the numerous brushes between the “Arab’' and the local boats, he had been a constant winner. But to him that vaunts, there always comes a day of reckoning. On account of his excessive talking, every man on the river who owned a fast one,, was “laying for him” and was keen for a chance to “show him up.” At last the opportunity came. It was on the occasion of a short run to Algonac. Smith, one of the prominent men of the town and a boat builder by profession, had just finished a six-cylinder racer of new design for one of his Detroit customers. He was testing it out with a few short runs when my friend, not suspecting anything, passed him. Smith advanced his throttle to the three-quarter position. The engine responded beautifully, bringing him within twenty meters of the other boat. My friend was unmistakably worried as was evidenced by the fact that he turned his boat three points to the starboard, heading directly for the gas-buoy at the head of Russel Island. Smith, however, was not to be shaken off. He likewise changed his course. The sight of these two annihilators of distance, their polished nickel parts scintillating with the rays of the rising sun, their engines running with chronometer precision,—the syncopation produced by the cadence of their even, unmuffled exhausts,—the field of green water upon which they were maneuvering,—its background of tree-studded islands,—made an impression upon me never to be forgotten. To resume our story, the “Arab” seeing that it was being slowly overtaken, now turned completely around, doubling on its course, heading for Algonac. Smith, putting his helm hard over, hung on like a bulldog. In turning at a sharp angle with the line of direction,, at a speed close to eighteen knots an hour, his boat listed so much that a considerable amount of water was shipped. In spite of this she steadied up, and in full view of an interested crowd on the White Star Line dock, the “Six,” with a terrific burst of speed, shot way past the “Arab,” slowed down, and tied up at its mooring. Van R. Schermerhorn, ’o8. Page Five

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Page Four perfectness of his art, as Parrhasius did Zeuxis? With a knowledge of Greek literature one can better understand Greek art. The laws and government of ancient Greece are studied by statesmen of to-day. What piece of English literature can surpass the pathetic scene described by Homer of Hector's leave-taking of his wife and little son? Xenophon in his Anabasis has shown the world what should be the tactics of a retreat; how to command a rear guard; and the flexibilities of Greek tactics. Lieut.-Col. Dodge says, “More tactical originality has come from Xenophon’s Anabasis than from any dozen other books. .. .. After twenty-three centuries there is no better military text-book than the Anabasis. Through the study of Greek the student becomes acquainted with some of the world’s best literature. Professor Jebb says, “Of all the things which the Greeks created, their own language was the most beautiful.” In Greek were written some of the best epic and lyric poetry. The most nearly perfect drama we have was written in Greek. Great skill is shown in handling all oratorical arguments. In all Greek literature there is a pervasive humor, a “delicate irony, and stateliness of narrative.” Why did the Greek boy learn his Homer by heart? Why do you reach out your hand with eagerness for the English translations of Homer? Why have the Iliad and the Odyssey been preserved through more than two thousand years? Because to quote Dr. John Ira Bennett of Union College, “Greek books are fresh and vigorous; they came from life and they have life eternal.” You admit the superiority of Greek over other languages, then why not study Greek ? There are three ways to study a language: first, with reference to the subject, to make use of it later; second, with reference to the form, that is grammatically and analytically; third, with reference to the grace of expression. The first two ways give mental discipline, the third culture. Yes, Greek is hard because, of its various and diverse ways of expression and similarity of forms and its fulness of inflection. In Greek there is an optative mood, a middle voice, an aorist tense, a dual number, all of which are not found in Latin. With this fulness of inflection the Greeks made many fine distinctions of meaning, which cannot be expressed so clearly in any other language. Although many forms are very much alike, Greek syntax is simpler than the syntax of Latin. With a close observation of forms, translating becomes an art when the translator understands translation must make sense, for Greek is logical and expresses an idea exactly as it is to be conveyed; it is exact and can mean omy one thing. The study of Greek is a means of accurate expression and clear thought. Is this not something our country longs to develop in her citizens? Since Greek civilization has influenced our civilization, has given an inspiration for our religion, our literature, since it has enriched the resources in the use of our own language, since Greek literature, art, science of warfare is still unsurpassed and considered worthy to be a model, since “everything that moves in this world of ours, save only the blind forces of nature is Greek in its origin,” is Greek not worth studying, gentle reader, though “the immortal gods placed toil in the path to excellence and though the road to it is long ana steep ?” Mary Hathaway Bolles, ’08.

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Page Sis Clas :Poem Our school life lies behind; its happy hours, Are buried in the dim and distant past; And memory brings us now naught but the flowers, Of those four years that sped away so fast. Yet turn we for a lingering look tonight, To that dear Past’s departed pleasures bright. We see, as now we take a backward view, A bright September morn, whose balmy air, And grasses sparkling with the undried dew, Speak parting Summer’s message everywhere. We see old Central’s portals open wait, To greet the coming class of nineteen-eight. We see ourselves as trembling Freshmen stand, To know our fortune in that ample hall; We feel again that sense of foreign land; That sense of strangeness, loneliness, and all: As, looking up with dazed, affrighted frown, We saw the upper classmen looking down. We see those rooms like catacombs of old, That puzzled with their non-adjacency; We vainly strive to seek the numbers told; With scornful, Sophomore-like complacency, We strive to enter every class room door, And “make our levels” on the proper floor. But memory forever will hold dear, And give an honored page in her great book, That bitter-sweet, that studious Freshman year; Yes, in our hearts it has its sacred nook. The thorny green must e’re surround the rose, Before its fragrant petals shall unclose. A year has passed; and now, as Sophomores proud, We go to rooms assigned without a guide; What privilege to Freshmen not allowed, Shall from henceforth be ours! Fond, foolish pride,— For, looking up with smile instead of frown, We find the upper classmen still look down. But there are compensations: Freshmen now, Look up to us, as we were kings of men, And on the street the Juniors almost bow, (Disdainfully, and look away again!) And lessons do not seem such awful bores, And bluff is tried and oftentimes it scores! And so this year goes on. Societies Begin to come our way, and contests, too. We’re learning now what High School really is, Its meaning, and its spirit, brave and true. Exams and tests concern us more and more, That we have good reports when they are o’er. In sports we take a growing active part: We even have our players on the team. If Central loses, we lose hope and heart; When Central wins, with joyousness we beam; Though we have not yet perfect bliss attained, As Sophs, a worthy measure we have gained. And yet again old Central’s doors swing wide, Upon a glorious morn in early fall; We feel a new, a glowing sense of pride, As Juniors, entering the well-known hall. And with half kind and half disdainful frown, We join the upper classmen looking down.