Central High School - Colt Yearbook (Paterson, NJ)

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THE SPECTATOR unable to recall which paragraph came next. Your voice sounded thin and far away. Finally you finished and in some way got back to your seat, convinced that the speech or recitation had been a miser- able failure. Kind friends, however, assured you otherwise, and the self- contldence proper to a Senior-to-be, soon returned. One more year! For only ten more months, forty more weeks, would you be able to call yourself a student of the Paterson High School. Three weeks of this time, too, were taken up by the influ- enza epldemic, that awful scourge which visited so many of our homes. All thoughts of this, however, soon were thrown aside. Peace was declared! Surely that day, of all others in your high-school career, can never be forgotten. There ls so little one can say about it,- and the time ls growing short. Already the speaker shows evidences of closing his address, and you are anxious to finish your retrospectlon. In February, nineteen-nineteen, the class met, organized, and elected officers. As had been done by each preceding clas , the students voted to adopt a ring which should serve as the standard emblem of them, however, the the school. Unlike ring was selected by a committee working ln conjunction with and was officially the Student Council, adopted. On April thlrtleth, a social was held at the Junior Order Hall. Here, for the flrst time, the class assembled for a glorious good time, and all expectations were fulfilled. Two months left! How quickly they have passed! Here you are, seated midst your companions for the last time, waiting for that diploma which shall certify that you have completed a prescribed course of study in the Paterson High School. Yes, you have taken and passed certain sub- jects, done well in some, not so well in others: you wish you had done better in all. How many things you would do differently if you had an opportunity, and yet,-would you? All the little, petty misfortunes, trials, dislikes, scrapes, have faded away, and only pleasant memories of friendships with teacher and pupil alike, of good times, of small triumphs, and, after all, the sense of a task well done, remain. It is your class that is dis- banding, your school that you are leaving. Is that a lump in your throat? If it is, you don't care, but you do hope it doesn't show. Now the speaker has finished, and in a few minutes more, you have received your diploma., and, behold, you are an Alumnus, ready to go forth into the world, to tlght your own battles, and, aided by those greater lessons learned ln Paterson High School, to overcome every obstacle which the future may interpose, to win your way to SUCCESS, and, flrst and fore- most, now and forever, wherever you may be, and whatever may befall you, to be a credit, every one, to dear old Paterson. CLARA M. ELSAESSER, '19. Qllass Brnphrrg Each one of us has some ambition That we plan to follow through life, But all's not a path of roses And your future may change in the strife. The brightest may plan for big things And fail 'ere he gets very old, And the quiet, unassuming chap Have his history carved in gold. .,...... . -.,..... ' ' '-' 5 I, who have undertaken The future to overtake, May sometimes err in my prophecy- All men are apt to mistake. Tonight, as I sit a-thinking, Trying each future to probe, The spirits all have forsaken me- I'll resort to the crystal globe.

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THE SPECTATOR and then, behold, you yourself are a Sophomore! That you started a month behind time, you remember, because of the paralysis epidemic. tUnconsciously, perhaps, in the course of your reflections, you drop into the past tense. Impressions no longer seem as vivid as when you were merely a Freshman.J You enjoyed that -- extra month. but still you were glad to go back to your friends and to discover who your new teachers were. The term was short and busy, but seemingly uneventful. One event, however, stands out clearly. You went to have your schedule changed. That is, you tried to have it changed. You didn't quite know where to find the schedule-room, and forgot to ask before leaving the section. Therefore, you pro- ceeded to the office, a.nd thence were directed to the third floor. Entering that room, you of course stumbled over that treacherous little step and just escaped falling headlong. You blushed. When your confusion had cleared away, you saw Mr. Frazee chatting with his helpers, took heart, and began to state your request. He, however, interrupted the flow of elo- quence of your plea, to inquire for your program-card. It seems that you had for- gotten to bring it. Well, get out of here until you do get it, and don't come back until you do! You got out, and got your card, too, but you did not go back. Your request, after all, was not important, -not important enough, at any rate, to risk another trial. The scene changes to the fourth of April. Will you ever forget that day? Before this assembly meets again, the United States will have declared war on Germany! The war, to be sure, had not, up to this time, seemed very close at hand, though you knew it must come, nor did it yet seem,-well, seem wholly personal. There was something vague about it. Of course. you were ready to back up Uncle Sam, and to do your bit, but you didn't know just how. Soon, however, appeals for aid began to pour in, and how gladly you answered then1! Your country began to mean something real, and big, and vital. It means something, now, when you rose. and saluted the flag. And then, around came June again, and your high-school career was half pver. The work begun this term was carried on during your Junior- year: Now, too, you began to miss brother, relatives, friends, who had gone to iight for Uncle Sam. Your teachers, too, were answering the call to arms. Meanwhile, all of you were working. There were drives for War Savings Stamps, and for Liberty Bonds. The boys were working to fulllll their Y. M. C. A. pledges, and the girls were knitting. Do you remember how you used to ply your needles under the desk, during class, and then, growing bolder, you worked openly? And how many things besides knitting that big bag carried? The year, too, was remarkable for another thing,--the introduction of Phy- sical Training. With how much pleasure did you not look forward to those periods, and with what scorn did you not regard the few pessimists who were entirely un- enthusiastic over the prospect! How many lessons did it take to disilluslon you? Well, now that you are through with it all, and can look down from the lofty emi- nence of Seniordom, it was, certainly, a splendid thing,-particularly if you lived in the country, and found it necessary to run three blocksto the car each morning. year marked You had be- And then, your Junior the beginning of things. gun to know everyone, and people had be- gun to know you. Can you ever forget the proud and exultant feeling in your heart the day that a small girl, a total stranger to you, addressed you by name? ln your thirty-two term, too, you appeared be- fore the assembly in the capacity of speaker for the hrst time. That was a. truly terrible experience. Your knees trembled, you forgot your lines, you were

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THE SPECTATOR Now its glassy surface is hazy, As a bank of fog would be, But with concentration, The future clearly I see. ll U lk In a northern forest a lumber jack Has just chopped a huge tree down. He turns, 'tis Jack Weber, the popular! Let our President lead us to town. In canoes on a peaceful river Misses Schneider and Malone Are being propelled by romantic young men Whose names must remain unknown. N We see Anna Petzold teaching In a country school house of logs. On his own little farm Duke Wishnefsky Entertains with music, his hogs. That bright looking girl who passed on her steed Is Esther M. Mitchell, of course, What she did desire fmany men who'd admirej Are following her a-la-horse. Yonder crowd is cheering George Bothyl, Who won for his team first place. The reason he beat Joe Baxter We won't tell lit takes too much spacel. And now we are right in the city Ruled by Charlie Gorgas, the mayor. With Pop Galloway as the chief of police They run things their own way. Beware! In a neat barber shop, Arch Van Blar- com Is clipping some gentleman's mop. Great Scott! If it ain't Gus Schlichtlng! Vivlano sweeps up the shop. At the manicure table I.. Kaufman, As neat as e'er polished a nail, Sits manicuring John Guyet, Our biggest fusser. All hail! Down the street comes Ken Auburn, Leading the village band. They welcome General Raphael Stein. Perseverance gave him command. That shrimp chopping meat is Ran Atkinson, In a butcher shop of his own. He took a course in surgery, Yet he cannot tell meat from bone. You can see Pinky Pfister working In an office fthe floor abovel, While Nesbitt, the struggling artist, In the garret, lives chiefly on love. That handsome marble building Is the home of The Voice of Nineteen, Our weekly. The editors, Harper And Charniak, cannot be seen. On the street we meet Becker and Hutch- lnson Hurrying on to a. show. They say we'll know some of the actors. The price isn't high-let's go. The theatre's called the Majestic In the box-office, to my surprise, Is Al Bainbridge selling tickets. No wonder the crowd's such a size! Helen Blauvelt grabs our tickets lln an llSl16I B suit she's neatl, Finds a huge convenient pillar, And behind lt gives us a seat. The show starts off with moves- With the greatest stars of all, Rene Jones and Axel Allen. For Axel the ladies all fall. They next show a Keystone Komedy, The kind which wastes good pies. The antics of Clara Elsaesser And Murph Steinberg bring tears to your eyes. And all the while an organ Sends music through the hall, The girl at the keys is Eleanor Thorp, Whose work at High you recall. Then they start the vaudeville With a singing and dancing skit. Phil Hall and the famed Nat Blewett with their acting have made a hlt. And next comes the bean pole, Llfsitz. Who can reach from the stage to row F His juggling act with Ed Wolek Reminds us of Mutt and Jeff. The Groothedde twins, Dutch comedians, Crack some jokes we won't repeat. fContinued on page 331