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

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in T'v YD prM....,...5 11 Q .. . .. !E'L 'l. Literary uiuiniiu' T ' 3131542 Time lH3C.EI1'JilII'Ckllf1llCB va THE SPIRIT OF CENTRAL Theres room at the top for the worker Who is earnest and noble and trueg There's no room at all for the shirker, Who quails at the struggles in view. The winner is he with a vision Of the crest of the mountain serene: Who strives to reach Fields Elysian, 'Tho quagmires of trials intervene. 'Tho obstacles great and stupendous His spirit may daunt for a time, With a heart that is strong and courageous, He o'ercomes them in combat sublime. Then hail to the Spirit of Central, To the workers in l..earning's domain! Your hardships are but incidental, And help you your mountain to gain. T. H. NIELSEN. lpage 721 7n2MnifiF1iv-Twin-Tu'nim1'uirW-5:5141Gmmiiiw-mEI'uiiFvliuE16vWinWuiinT.-71wihnviuifiiiinh-TnahWmu. -JnFvImTnIuWnbTRI-.ZI ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' -' ' ' ' ' ' Hmfuuw' .. .A A i... .4 It Y.--I-AIA., .. .,. .Q.,.,.AAgb. .4 .1. I I I I I I I I I I EI I ..:..-..............,..,- . .- -v...-.-. ..... .............-.- gl .I I! II I I 'E gi Is Ii is

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-l,.. l, v: TOE -- I . I 'MQ QQ Q H1 fl IP GL Ili GCE wa :- Literary He felt a sudden elation as his hopes, which had just been submerged in the deepest slough of despair, rose again. He silently offered a prayer of thanks. But, alas, his happiness was quickly curtailed as inspection of the contents of the wallet found it to be- Brrl Brrl Brrl Brr! reverberated loudly and shrilly in the ears of Brooks, as the ringing of the alarm clock abruptly awoke him from the unpleasant dream. For such it was, being due to his altogether too heavy meal earlier in the evening. B. LUKAS. DUSK Oh, Time, why do you follow at my heels And point your finger at my hoary head? Why do you mock me when l seek a smile From youthful eyes that are so full of cheer? . Oh, demon, fiend incarnate, do not laugh! You've robbed me of my friends, my wealth, my all, And now you seek to kill the tiny flame That flickers in my heart and warms my life. Oh, soulless sir, a respite brief l beg And then my burnt-out heart and life are yours. But no, it's not to be, my time has come. The hands of death are closing o'er my heart. Oh, greedy monster, take away myllife. 'Tis nought. l cast it at your bony feet. I want it not. My God, that mocking laugh! ROBERT EMMET MOORE. lPage 7II ,,...,, . 1 -..lnnuunum-lm-u---4nu...-U.. . ,U . .mv .ur mv ummm-.-1-mu..l....-mu-Inw--mm-mqnnm-wmv. -H -. . W. ...,....... .m.,..,... ,m..,.v .,- . r .,...... 1. 1.1, ..,'...1',v '',h,.-Linz:-,-1,-LL 1-..,f. ' ,L,, 'gg

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.Ill vfzir- vhke -, 'W A - a s 'me Q In ily GL H 5 QQ as Literary THE CLOCK ON THE MANTEL The sun was at its zenith and the heat was terrific. A dry south wind was blowing, making the heat more intense and scattering dust indiscriminately in all directions. The sun and wind had both, it appeared, picked upon the only object ani- mated with life, for coming down the street was on old man. The sun beat down upon him and the wind blew clouds of dust in his path. This man was old, and he had lived long. The weather, what was that to him? His head was bowed and his whole body bent. He walked along tim- orously, each step a pain, a terrible exertion. He dragged his feet with a curious rythm, exactly opposite to the motion of his body. He wore what once resembled a hat and his clothes showed long usage. He had a lean face with heavy jaws, close, thin-set lips and a rounded chin. His eyes caused one to wonder, for they were large and luminous. A young man's eyes in an old, set, and hard face. Could it be possible that the mind remained as active as those eyes? -Did the eyes reflect the youthfulness of a constantly roaming mind? He supported his big bent frame upon a cane of exquisite workmanship. There was a perceptible increase in his dragging strides as he approached a dilapidated house. It was situated on a little knoll surrounded by space for miles around. It was a fine old house, built solid and square, to stand off that terrific pace-maker, Time. He now stood squarely in front of the door and as if his presence without had been felt within, a maid came forth and gave him her hand for more support. They entered his room at the farthest end of the building, and there in front of his hearth, where a small fire was burning to keep him warm, she placed him in his accustomed seat, directly in front of it and left him to himself. The room which he occupied was devoid of any home touches. The only other object that shared his room was the mantel clock. The clock's face remained the same, in contrast to that of its master. The longer he worked the less he was troubledg but those around him wearied of his long years of pounding out the time. For did he not have the proofs? Did he not see his master grow old? Did he not see the family reared and broken? Ah! that life should contain so much and mean so little! Life! at the mere thought of that word, the figure in the chair stirred. His mouth opened, his hands moved and his eyes flashed his thoughts. Life, he said, What is it? A thing to be gotten and then a thing to be thrown away. Suddenly Life stood before him and said, What hast thou against Life? Hast thou not now enjoyed life for almost a century? Enjoyed life! A fine opinion you have of yourself! Enjoyed life, hal Look at me. Do you see in me any resemblance to a babe in his cradle? From childhood to manhood l have struggled. l struggled as a babe in the cradle to become a boy, and no sooner a boy, than to be a man, and here I am a man, an old man, and what is there before me? Another struggle, perhaps, for who knows what death may bring? You say you have struggled, said Life. That in a great measure is true, but do you know of any achievements of great worth that were obtained fPage 731 - -'-' - - '- '-Mm7Erirnmmi-hrV-I--1.3.3-J-T.u.lw-ml-I' uifrwvmsvm' .14-',-1.-1-'14--1:14'- 4 ...,.,11AA