Central YMCA High School - Centralite Yearbook (Chicago, IL)

Page 69 text:

'lf R 2 ,wuz -. iff? q,M.QJg,QL2.Q,sr- f 1 . . , .. ,k.LL . , 7 :xiii QEQEQE QQQQQ Wm, '91, N, ,'V , NN, ww f Mmm W-M iv,WWt w', F'v,, WH Y, Yk W'Mw WU M, Hrwwim',w w WI' 1' 'X ,llfwkl ,, 1 l 4 w W N k , 'if ', ,,,H,'W w u , , '4 zfM , ,,E EVM, -Twig!-f,' W 'N X WT' ,L f fqvfg my ,m,',, ,wig sl ffhv f sS5214QQ7xbf3.l'f,,1MxX,pN X EEEQEQ ,QMQQMQQQQQQQQQQQQEQQ 'fefafy

Page 68 text:

, as ey fm F' H - 'Hilfe G12 ce qqggircxlfigfrce 'Q Orchestra Evening Albert jay Blasko, P. Norehad, Stephen W. Przanowski, T. l-l. Nielsen, Lawrence R. Roch, C. Russell Lundquist, Francis W. Colburn, F. W. lVlcClusky, E. C. Dobin, George V. Pohelski. ORCHESTRA Music hath charms is a quotation that has been proved a fact by mem- bers of the musical research laboratory under the able direction of Mr. William F. lVlcClusky. Every Monday evening the sweet strains of music may be heard floating, now somewhat morbidly, now spritely, through the halls of Old Central. The orchestra, although seriously handicapped by evening practices, has become one of the leading organizations of the school, lending color and inspiration through the stimulating channels of music. This loyal group comprising the orchestra has spent many late hours in practice so that proficiency might be attained in the presentation of the se- lections. The student body as a whole appreciates the fact that an organization such as the orchestra continues with such good spirit. The constituents of activities are not complete, in the students' opinion, without an organization of this nature. The Orchestra of '25 sincerely hopes that succeeding groups will continue the splendid work and attain a new goal for each succeeding ensemble. lPage 641 - . ....,.,.....,.v...mm..4.-lm.l..mm..-- . wi1mm.....m......,.......u,...W-ii.. mu.-.....mnm-......,. .1.i,.L A, 4 it ,-1 4 , wp, 1--it-g i yi

Page 70 text:

on J sf. Q T 'Hfnge ate mgfnlctlide 'J Literary ANTONIO CORELLI, REBEL The blood red disk of the setting sun was casting its lengthening shadow fingers over the neat checker board of truck farms, lying just northwest of Chicago. A vegetable truck, returning from the city, rumbled from the white ribbon of concrete into the little barnyard of Corelli Bros. Frank Corelli skilfully maneuvered his vehicle into the narrow garage and snapped off the switch. Tony Corelli sat within the house, staring unseeingly through his own bitter thoughts at the departing glory of the day. The grating sound of the closing garage door and his uncle's heavy step on the porch, failed to arouse him. The last bronze rays of light filtering through a pillar of onion trays in the yard cast a latticed reflection over Tony's face, which seemed struggling to suppress some inner conflict. Not until his mother lit the evening lamp, dis- pelling the purpling outer twilight into utter blackness, did Tony awaken from his reverie. Tony's Uncle Frank stood in the doorway and paused, in the act of filling his pipe. l-le very seldom directly addressed his nephew, for the boy spoke no ltalian-and English was a decided effort for Frank Corelli. Whazza matta dat you queet da job so early, hey? T'ink you got so moocha time come seet een da house? All the pent-up resentment which Tony had been harboring since his father's death, welled to the surface as the boy faced his uncle. lf you think the short four hours that l spend in the Community High School must be offset by ten hours of back-breaking labor in the fields, you are mistaken, he retorted. l've stood just about as much as l can stand, so we might just as well settle the whole matter now. The expression of the elder Corelli's face did not change, and as the silence grew longer, the hot flame of anger burned higher in Tony's breast. At length, the uncle turned on his heel and left the room, with an admixture of annoyance and bewilderment on his previously impassive countenance. Tony, The sound of his mother's voice stopped the boy as he was about to ascend to his room. Why don't you let me talk to him, Tony? his mother said. He comes from Corsica, son, and to him, education means training one's hands. He just doesn't understand. But Tony would not harken to the voice of reason. lmbued with a desire for the finer things in life, Tony all his days had had to contend with the un- progressive attitude of the Old World peasantry, which made up his little home and the community about him. The one bright spot had been his mother's sympathy, and her own willing- ness to learn. But tonight Tony did not think of this, nor did he think of his uncle's good qualities, and the excellent progress which he himself was mak- ing in school. Instead, he allowed the revulsion, which had only been strengthened by his father's death, to seize him once more. At the end of two hours of brooding in the solitude of his room, he arrived at a decision. Packing a few articles of clothing and leaving a note for his mother, Tony quietly left the house and struck out for the nearby interurban junction. lPage 661 m,,,.m,,,m 7 7,,,,m,,,,f,,g,,.,,,,,,,.,,.,.,,, . ....m.W.nwwnquwnnn-w.wM.-.-.nwwmmnumm-.umtauw-.W-W.-m..,.',. .......-......,..........m....--n..- W.-um! - in E L, .- L. , - ,AQ,,,,-,-,.,u,1i,,,,,,,4,rU., M., A .