Central High School - Spokesman Yearbook (Erie, PA)

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'u eff- ff!?73siaE ,. K X ' fr -X , 3.2, C fl S ' V C FIS dance, were wished onto two fblinds' fcowboy chatter for 'bum steers'J and the only place open with the dinner dance music you love to listen to, slumped back into a chair and the smoke curling its slow upward fiight, was the Chrysalis. Where did they go? To the Chrysalis. Instead of slumping down into a chair they slumped all over the floor with the girls to the breakdown power of the Varsity Drag step. And they were becoming tired of punishing the old hob-nail expresses ffeetj. Suddenly the recuperative power of Jimmy asserted itself. Or shall we say that the respiration was given by the sight of Ruth and Edna? Unfamiliar to you, I judge, but old friends to Jim and Ted. Pleading an acquaintanceship at another table, Jim slowly arose and fluttered an eye-lid to Ted. Jimmy retired to the grill room and using his most correct English he wrote asking the girls if they might not call for them when their boy-friends ushered them home. Accidently tripping on the soft carpet near Edna's chair, Jimmy managed to slip the note to her and retired to his own table. A shy glance and the upward swing of a tousled head assured him that his request was granted. Excuses were offered to the two girls whom Jim and Ted had brought out to the club. Yes, it was too bad but the Prof was really starting his plan of extermina- tion on those students who consistently violated his rule of 'lights out at twelve.' Would they be glad to leave now? Sorry to go, yes, but the Prof is a terror. They rushed the two girls to their respective homes and then waited in seclusion until the other two men had bid fond good-nights to both Edna and Ruth. And then the four started once again for the Chrysalis, this time paired in a little dilferent manner than they had started the evening in earlier. Having arrived at the club and being seated in comfortable style at one of the corner tables they received the shock of their lives. The two girls whom Jim and Ted had taken home had entered with the two men who had taken Eclmz and Ruth back! Surprised? No word for it! But the evident hair-raising feeling of both sides caused a gasp of surprise that ended in laughter. They all saw the funny side and made the best of it. It couldn't have happened in a million years, but . . . A V -BILL GETTY REVERIE Hans Schmetler and Christophe Hoeffler, the composers, strummed softly on their harps, within the gates of heaven. Ach, Hans, I wonder if they still play my compositions down on earth. In the United States, where they so quickly accepted my scherzo, my beloved aria, myiu Here he was interrupted by the other. . Always me and mine. What about my serenade? Ah, I'll wager they're still playing it there on earth. Come, my friend, let's get a permit and go down and see for ourselves. The two shades arrived on the Great White Way. Bewildered, they paced up and down the streets until they at last found a sign telling of a concert in the Elmwood Music Hall. Quick, Hans, we must fly there. Over the skyscrapers and elevated trains they soared, until they at last reached the Hall. They entered noiselessly and sat down next to two typical flappers. The phantoms heard a conversation something like this: And, dearie, let me tell you what he says. He says, 'Meet me on the corner of seventy-sixth and Elmwood at five o'clock.' I came there on time and no Frank could I find. Now I'm going to waste time for an hour and make him wait. You're perfectly right, darling. We can wait here just as well as anywhere. Let's see the program. They're going to play-- Just then, the leader raised his baton and the orchestra struck up into the lively tune of HoefHer's Mazurka Ah, whispered the phantom, how gratifying-how happy I am! The Happer on his right muttered an exclamation of joy and then ended with a sigh. Golly, Rosie, for a minute I thought they were going to play Sweet Kisses, that's what they played last night at Juneland. It's the snappiest song! Naw, this isn't it. It sounds like a funeral march. 115

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f i .3 1412. .gp I '. 'N 5. le- 41 c ns Esate I 'I f. r -f i g ig THIS ERIE WEATHER There is something freakish about Erie that always makes the weather act queer and irregular when it comes to us. With all good intentions a storm may have been scheduled for this fair city. It is forecasted as on its way, seen in a distance moving here, in fact it may almost arrive and then for no reason at all it turns around and goes back. That's all right-we are perfectly willing to miss the storms. One can easily do without them. But what about those warm,,fair days that are prophesied so often?-and never appear. The weatherman concedes us a week of sunny, balmy weather. The first day it may arrive-but in a few hours the sky is overcast and it rains and rains and rains. And the next day-and the next day-and the next. A person once remarked to me fand rightly tool that all an inhabitant of Erie needed was a raincoat, unbrella and rubbers and he was equipped for the year. It was an exceedingly wise observation but he omitted one fact-that a new set must be bought about every other month. They do wear out so quickly in our constant downpour. Now when it doesn't rain you would think we would be permitted to have some sunny weather. But that would be breaking all rules and regulations that the weather observes when butting Erie. Its creed seems to be, Be different, be original. So on the days it doesn't rain-it's merely a nice cloudy gray sky with clouds that threaten but never fulfill-and a cool damp wind blowing from the east. We are just as apt to have snow in May, and warm days with a south.wind in December. In fact we have had them. I wonder if the weather man doesn't get just a little disgusted at times. Goodness knows he tries hard enough. He isn't to blame when the prophesied weather doesn't appear. It's just that peculiar effect that Erie has upon the weather. But then I'm doing the weather a grave injustice- we do have sunny days-occasionally. Yes, about once a week the sun will peep dismally through a cloud. All day he strives to get up some degree of brilliance and then worn out with the struggle the should realize by now that the odds are against himj sinks back behind a cloud. And then it rains. Someday I'm going to fool the weather. VVhen the mornings are warm and sunny I shall start out to school in raincoat and rubbers, confident in the fact that it will rain before sundown. For it always does! Or, if it should be raining in the morning I shall appear in full regalia, prepared for a warm sunshiny day-for it will be by nightfall. At present, the sun is sinking down into the lake in a warm red glow prophesying a fair day for tomorrow. That would go for any other city but Erie. I am willing to wager anyone it rains tomorrow. But that would be an unfair bet for it will-and it is. -DOROTHEA WITTMAAK PURE CHARACTER Of all the pocketbooks there are, new one, old ones, big ones, round ones, and rectangular. I believe that only the old. worn-out, weatheiubeaten purse has the most character. There are some that from the beginning do not possess a thing, no matter how beautifully they are outfitted or how long they last. Only the plain, comfortable, leather pocketbook, that betravs the good breeding of its owner, can be said to possess any character. Even though it ages it seems to lose none of its good looks, and though its sides seem fairly to burst at times from the crowded contents it loses none of its capableness. -ANN NASON A SHORT, SHORT STORY It couldnit have happened in a million years-but it did. And here's how. But before we get to the interesting part of the story we've got to 'pad' the tale because otherwise we wouldn't make the proper place on the page ready to be sent out now to the compositor. If you think the unusual is in any way untrue, speak to Jimmy Reardon about it. He told it to us and it casts a new light on the Modern Youth just coming into its own-a generation which can take a joke and-like it! It seems that Jimmy and Ted, that's the fellow whom you met at the last Tau 114 Q .

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. .,, , .Q N M ZA, Fir, QQ c bs assi' chs Young lady, said Christophe to the girl, this is not a funeral march, although I did write a very beautiful one. I hope they play it, you will enjoy it. This is a lively dance. No doubt, they played it last night at the Junelandf' The girl snapped her gum, and remarked to the other that she couldn't sit through an hour of this and decided to meet Frank right now. Hans watched her as she left and his heart ached when he saw how few people were in the audience and fewer listening. There was a multitude of vagrants who, trying to catch some sleep, would angrily shake their fist at the music, when it reached its high spots. They must have their sleep. At length, the disillusioned spirits decided to nnd some other place of music where they were sure their works would be appreciated. A Purple Pup sign caught their attention. They stood in front of the place and heard strains of lively music, in fact, very, very, lively. Come, my friend, let us enter here. It must be a freak exhibit, I, myself, have never seen a purple dog. So saying, Christophe took his collegue's arm and entered the night club. A blare of loud music greeted them. People, supposedly civilized, were hopping and whirling all over the small dance fioor in time to this mad blare. Himmel, cried Hans, clapping his hands to his ears, this is bedlam., We must have entered a madhouse. But where is the purple dauschhundt'?i' The two shades wandered to the orchestra where the musicians were taking a rest. Next on the program, called the announcer, will be a new piece, called 'Wah, dah, dah,' The crowd shrieked with laughter at this and the orchestra started, at first softly and slowly. Hans, Christophe cried, it is the prelude to my Dreams of Childhood! The time is all wrong. No, it isn't my song after all. That is my beloved aria-that which they're playing now. Too loud, too fast. Ah, what have they done to it? It doesn't sound like my beautiful aria! lamented Hans. They went to the orchestra. Thieves, thieves, you have stolen our materpieces. Give them back, fools, lunatics! they cried. The leader laughed and continued sing- ing: Wah, dah, dah, that's what they're singing now. Sing it, folks. And the crowd answered, Wah, dah, dah. -AUDREY COWAN AN IMPRESSION The most wonderful monument in the world is not made by human hands from gilt and marble-it is built by love and sacrifice,-it is the towering cathedral. Cathedrals are messengers from eternity. Their works of art present the delicate beauty, the inspired joy of a good life: their sturdy, protective massiveness stands for the power, the mercy of Him whose spirit fills themg their brave defiance of the ele- ments, and passing years, that very durability, which reigning, while less noble works crumble, symbolize the immortality of the soul. I know one friendly cathedral which is delightful to visit just before the sunset hour. Golden rays filtering through the brilliantly colored windows bring the scenes on them to life. In the rose hued beams of light, which play on the pure white marble altars, the much sought Holy Grail is easily found. Everywhere there is a solemn hush. Only the faint rustle from the garments of saints walking amid the misty arches breaks the silence. Here there is peace for those who seek itg here we may meet Him who always awaits us. Indeed, cathedrals serve manifold purposes in a community, they stimulate, they nourish, they inspire. They live for us and serve to arouse our nobler deeds and aspirations. Their beauty is divine and amid this beauty is Divinity. - JAMES CONDREN ON CENTRAL No more banging of doors to keep them shut, no more noises vibrating through the halls, no more squeaky boards and treacherous stairs, no more fiimsy excuses to go over town for a periodg in fact, no more fun! I think everyone, in general, feels the same about our new high school. Everyone in Erie whether rich or poor, worthy or unworthy can look upon Centrol as his Alma Mater. Suddenly without a hint, they are all left without one. In the cold. We, the June graduates, will be the same. We can sympathize with our parents. Our parents with us. 116