Central Junior High School - Junior Classic Yearbook (South Bend, IN)

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7,11- i GE The Junior Classic QED The Afternoon Ride of Patricia Lee Patricia Lee sighed heavily as she gazed around the large, well-furnished room. Indeed. it was hard to be left alone with an eighty- year-old grandmother when one was but sixteen. She gazed desolately out of the window at the birds chirping lightly. and spattering their wings in the marble bird bath. She noticed how radiantly beautiful the sun was, while the Howers nodded their dainty heads in silent ap- proval. Suddenly her eyes perceived an object which brought a sunny smile to the formerly pouting lips. lVith a sudden decision, she left the room. She ran up the stairs, two at a time. and finally reached the top. where she promptly ran down the hall to a large room at the end. Here she burst in like a young whirlwind, awakening an old lady whose head had begun to nod like a drooping dahlia. Come, Grandmother, get your wraps, Patricia commanded. It's too nice a day to stay inside. The fiustered old lady obeyed meekly, won- dering what was going to happen. She was shooed down stairs and helped out to the drive. There, standing in it, was an im- pudent little Ford. It's brother's, Patricia explained, but I'm going to drive it. Oh, pshaw, no Y the old lady exclaimed, her glasses falling off her nose in her excitement. Oh, it's all right. I never have driven a Ford, but I guess it's like every other car. Here, I'll help you in. VVith many protests the old lady was ushered into the luxurious and spacious depths of a Ford coupe. I-I-m-m 1 mused Patricia, wonder what all the pedals are for? I'm going to get out, announced the old lady uneasily. Noi You stay right here--whoops! Here we go. and with a 'jerk they sped down the drive. Myf where are the brakes? Patricia ex- claimed. A sudden bump caused the old lady's foot to slip out and push one of the pedals. lVith a squeaking, grinding noise the car slowed down. Good for you. Grandma, said Pat. How did you know those were the brakes? Brakesf repeated the old lady dazedlv- Oh. pshawl Oh. inyl Dear! Dear! ' XVhat's wrong? Good heavens! -if -b if if IPage Fifty-twol The morning sun streamed through the win- dow. Patricia .opened one eye. the other being bandaged for some unknown reason. The eye gazedgslowly around the room. showing sur- prise. Suddenly she sat up. With a groan she lay back on the pillows -0-h. I'm sore Beg pardon, Miss, began the maid Grandmotherf Patricia screamed with sudden thought. It's all mv faultg shes old. eed. she is. Miss: ut s e's a riv Your brother is giving her lessons in running a Ford, right now 'Oh. said Patricia. and she sank back against the pillows. Lessons, she repeated, chuckling to herself Jaxsr Brno 9B How to Judge a Picture Above all, I might say that the education of most of us who have been born in America has been neglected in respect to art. You will look at pictures and admire them. But have you the ability to judge a picture? No, very few of us have. But you will notice, when you arc in an art gallery, that most of the famous paint ings have been painted by French, Italian, or Dutch artists. In looking at a picture the first question we should ask ourselves is regarding the ma terial, or technical features of it. The two lead ing features of painting are form and color, and, as distinguished from the other iine arts, principally color. It is my purpose to point out what I deem to be false and crude in art, as well as to in dicate what is good. So. the first caution I may offer regarding color is: beware of bright pic tures, for they are generally bad. Some of the greatest masterpieces, especially among the Venetians and the modern Spaniards. are highly keyed in color and brilliant in effect. Color does not mean brightness alone. It does not mean that a colorist is one who deals in flaming colors. But he is one who justly re gards the relationship. the qualities. harmony, shadow, half-tint or bright light. Do not be led astray, then, by glare or glit ter, or gaudy picture. Follow the same good judgment you perhaps display in daily life. XIIOLET GRo:H.aNs 9.-K. S I RIO I 13' 3. L I so Ind , is h 11 ght. I I ..' ' , . 'i -'z 3 -5- . M . P31 T3 ie- as Er

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- QE The Junior Classic 29 Niagara Falls Niagara Falls is situated about twenty-two miles from Buffalo. N. Y. The Xiagara river descends three hundred twenty-six feet from the level of Lake Erie to that of Lake Ontario. At one point the water descends fifty-two feet in the midst of boiling torrents and eddies which turn the surface into white spray. A little way above the brink of the falls the river is separated by Goat Island. Here the stream is narrow and more shallow. One part de- scends one hundred tifty-rive feet over the American Falls, while the other stream Hows over the Canadian or Horseshoe Falls. Since the Civil lVar the main falls have worn back three hundred thirty-tive feet. Three miles below the falls the water rushes into the XVhirlpool. Over it is swung a cable from which is suspended a small car that takes passengers across. There is a bridge to Goat Island, and the entire gorge is encircled with a scenic rail- way. -Bi-:TTY Ci-IADBOURNE, 7.-X. l My Uncle's Farm Off a main highway. in Central New York state, about half a mile down a bumpy road, lies my uncle's farm. To the right is a large gray barn topped by a tower-like cupola, and the barn is flanked by a silo. To the left, wide- spreading elm trees rear their green heads. Suddenly, from behind the trees we come upon the house, curiously gray like the barn. The house is a long rambling structure with many porches half hidden by the shade of the trees. Turning in at the gate, we see in the distance long stretches of green pastures and fields of yellow grain. Following the path around the house, we enter the cheery kitchen. A -MARY .ALSI-I, TA. APRIL When skies are wet and drear, .And rain is falling hard, And puddles grow to tiny lakes In our back yardp Then let us go adventuring In some nice cozy nook, Companioned, till skies shine clear, By some good book. -Grace Armantrout, SA. City Fire Department All the children in South Bend should be proud of their tire department. For the size of the city they have one of the best in the United States. There are one hundred thirty- three firemen on the force, including the chief, Mr. Knoblock. These firemen run in shifts. one day and one night on and otf. There are ten fire stations and fifteen fire trucks. Among the latter are ten pumpers. three hook-and-ladders, one high pressure and one chemical truck. There are four hundred thirteen tire alarm boxes sta- tioned in different parts of the city. from which to turn in alarms. Of all the alarms turned in, two-thirds are telephone calls and one-third are fire-box calls. 1H.XRRX' KOEHLER, SB. NATUREIS JEWELS What are Nature's diamonds bright? ' They are the stars of a clear, clear night. What are Nature's pearls rare? ' They are the shining dewdrops falr. What is Nature's chain of gold? 'Tis made of daisies, I've been told. What are Nature's rubies red? Q They are the roses, it has been said. What are Nature's emeralds green? The verdant grass ln springtime seen. Are there jewels that will compare With those of Natures anywhere? -Cecil Loy, 83. ln the Country In the country, in the evening, YVhen gentle breezes blow, The birds begin to twitter. And we hear the cattle low. A perfume sweet arises From the fields of new-mown hay. And the heavy heads of clover Seem to nod and bend at play. A little brooklet murmurs Beneath an old stone bridge. And we hear a screech-owl calling From a pine tree on the ridge. -POLLY FRITZ. TB. fPaize Fifty-onel

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QE The Junior Classic 39 Mother's New Shoes I hate to do it. but Mother simply must have her new shoes for Christmas. YVith this resolution in mind, little twelve-year-old Bobby Loring Hew to the corner where he kept his cap and coat, followed by his dog, Pal. who could not have his young master out of his sight. Bobby's mother had often planned to sell Pal. because he made an additional expense to the already-small income of Mrs. Loring, who had been the bread-winner of the family since the death of her husband, seven years before. But because of the great love between the boy and dog, she couldn't bear to bring unhappiness into her young son's life. Bobby had already suffered very greatly from poverty. Bobby soon had his wraps on. He ran to the window and looked down upon the deserted street. lVhen he had made certain that his mother was not coming. he ran to the cupboard and from the contents of a cracked cup drew a short. stubby pencil. He picked up a piece of cardboard from the floor and hastily he wrote: FOR SALE Pal seemed to sense that his master was planning to sell him, for the dog lay at his feet. silently looking at him with a hurt and innocent look in his eyes. Half an hour later Bobby and Pal were sit- uated on a corner of the busiest section of town. The boy stood with his arms around the dog. Many people gave them a second glance and passed on. It was rapidly getting colder and the snow was falling faster. Bobby still stayed, his little body almost numb from the cold. Fewer people passed. and Bobby knew that night was not far off. I-Ie started to go home three or four times. but the thought of his mother without her new shoes kept him there. A white-haired gentleman looked at Bobby, then looked again as though he could not be- lieve his eyes. E lVhat is your name. my lad? he asked in a kind voice. Oh, sir, Bobby cried. will you buy my dog? My name is Bobby Loring. How much do you ask for him? asked the gentleman with a catch in his voice. for Bobby had reminded him of someone very near and dear to him. Do you think ten dollars is too much? And please. sir. treat him nice. for next to my mother. he is the best friend I have. I'll give you fifty dollars if you take me to your mother. said the old gentleman. YVhy, sir, I'll take you to her without you paying me, said Bobby. The boy was surprised at the old man's last remark, and showed it in his voice. Shall we go now? he asked. The old man nodded his head in assent. They soon reached the shabby tenement building where the Lorings were forced to live. Bobby ran up the stairs followed by Pal and the stranger. Mother, he cried, this man wishes to see you. ll'ho, dear? asked his mother. But just then she caught sight of the stranger and recog- nized him. Father. you forgive me. she cried, as she ran into the outstretched arms of the man. Yes, daughter. but I must ask you to for- give me. The boy looked on this scene very mystitied. His mother had never seemed so happy. Bobby and Pal never forgot that Christmas, for Bobby's mother was restored to her former posi- tion as the highly honored daughter of Judge Marshall. which she had forfeited by marrying a common laborer. But the thing that made Bobby the happiest was his mother's new shoes. Dear old Pal, mother got her new shoes, but I-still have you. There never was a hap- pier boy than I am. C.u-mir: Hixsoy, 9B. Three Thoughts Amid the pillars of the court. where the even- ing lights were lingering, where the waters of the fountain dripped quietly into the depths of a purple pool. there the rosy swan pierced the stillness with his cries. It was a lavender garden, sweet with violets. fragrant with lilacs and nestling mignonette. The laughing holly-hocks purpled the evening shadows. A twisting brook rippled over a dam of cool stones. A bird twittered softly. A wind-blown sail on a frothy foam, A sky of heavenly blue, And a sea-gull circling overhead Over sand of a dull gold hue. -LL'cii.Ls Scum-:i.r., 9B. IPaze Fifty-threel