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

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F.. . THE Jcxioit Ctassic Our Journey to the U. S. My mother, sister, two brothers, and I lived in Bucharest, Rumania, two years before we came to the United States. My father left us there while he came to America-to this great land of freedom. During our stay in Bucharest I went to a public school there. Their public schools are entirely different from ours. I studied Rumanian and Hebrew, since I could take up any language I wished. It seems to me that if any American student should go to a public school in Rumania, it would appear very strange and queer to him. After remaining in Bucharest for two years, we received word from my father to prepare our- selves for our long journey to the United States. I was very sorry to leave Bucharest since I had made many true and worthy friends. Otherwise I looked forward to out trip. After much preparation, hustling and bustling we arrived at our ship, the Madano lFabre Linej. It was a very large ship. We had many amusements and pleasures on the ship. In the mornings we played games, in the afternoons we usually watched the quiet or Stormy waters, ot went to the library for a quiet afternoon. At night bands and orchestras played while the people danced. If we didn't wish to dance, we went to the moving pictures. This de- lightful life lasted for two weeks and then ended as abruptly as it started. After we landed. we had a new glorious adventure ahead of us-that of Ending a home in this great country. -Soma Sotooxr. SB. The Lament of a French Student I am a French student. That is unquestionably sure, But I will admit I am unreasonably poor. Algebra is easy, , English isn't hard, But French is arduous, I got F on my card. I like the teacher, and I like her pleasant room, But to go there now, Alasl It is my doom. I am going to fail. Thar is unmistakably true. They won't let me quit. So what shall I do? The Romance of a Pewter Cup What could have a more interesting history than an old relic? This kit or cup is not a beauti- ful piece of workmanship for it has been battered around for so many years that it has almost lost its shape. It is now a dark green in color, but the romance. cheer and sorrow that is woven around it makes up for it. In its better days it belonged to Dick Ritchie of Dublin, Ireland. I-le fought in one of the most important wars of Ireland. It was here he was given the name of Dublin Dick. After he had won for himself many honors he returned home to hnd his home desolated and his wife and children dead. The sorrow and grief could not overcome completely a man of his strong will power. In the eighteenth century he sent all of their pewter dishware and the Irish laces over to his sister to be handed down. It has been through floods and fire but always miraculously escaped until a half century ago it fell through a crack in a prairie schooner and it was run over by the rear wheel. It is now discolored. scarred and almost ruined and yet it is one of my most prized treasures. It will be given to the South Bend Historical Society in a few weeks and it will be with regret that I part with it. -EDNA OLMSTEAD. A Dream of Dreams Of all the wonderful things that King Wfintcr offers to us, my choice is, to take a long walk at night in a big snowstorm just before Christmas time. It is so very easy to imagine yourself as Scrooge. drifting along, hanging to the Christmas Spirit's robe, peeping into the homes. while the soft lazy snow is drifting down, keeping you wrapped in 1 blanket of elve's weaving. A gay but subdued Ice Nlaid is weaving a spell around you, isolating your mind from the petty worries of evervdav life, just to give you a glimpse of the mysteries and delights of the life of the Christmas folk. Your feet are made of stardust and your heart is crying for the joys of this life. All too soon you arrive at your destination. The spell is broken. You are again human, but thankful for that dream of dreams. -ANONYBIOUS. IfForty-ninel