Charlotte High School - Witan Yearbook (Rochester, NY)

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THE WITAN Three distinct types, all perfumed and appearing at their best, but always our thoughts wander back to the girl in the garden with her deli- cate lavender. We do hope he” ap- preciates it as much as we do. —Helen Marks '26. AN ADVENTURE ON THE HILL The old oak tree had stood for hundreds of years on the top of the hill and was beginning to be a bit bored with life in general. He knew every dip in the land, every tree and shrub, every bend of the little brook that rippled by near the foot of his hill. Nothing ever came near him ex- cept the cows, and it can hardly be considered interesting to see a bunch of lazy cows lolling about chewing their respective cuds. Even the cows were gone now, for it was midwinter, two days after Christmas, to be exact. But this afternoon he suddenly straightened up his branches and stared. Could that be people, honest- to-goodness people, coming toward him? It was, and he soon discerned two hoys and a little girl. The Traber twins, with their little sister Alice, were staying during the holidays with Grandma Parker. They had exhausted all means of amuse- ment near the house, and today had strayed farther and farther with their two big sleds, in search of good hills for sledding. • “There’s a peach of a hill over there!” exclaimed Dick, the wild twin. “See, that one with the big tree on top. Let’s go over.’ ‘It's kind of far,” suggested Alice, timidly, looking back at the half mile of fields between them and the farm- house. “It isn’t so very far, Sis. Tired? We’ll pull you,” said Bob, the quiet twin. Alice was partly appeased, so they plodded on through the drifts. The hill proved to be even better than their expectations. It sloped just enough to suit Alice in one place. while further on was quite steep. The snow was well packed and a thick crust had formed on top. It was ideal. They spent a merry half hour, slid- ing frontwards, backwards, sitting, standing, lying flat—any way—the boys taking turns on the easy slope with Alice. Dick began to feel quite reckless. The accustomed ways of sliding no longer held any charm for him. “I want some regular excitement,” he said at last. He got it. Upon investigating the other side of the hill, which had until now been forgotten, he found his ideal of a hill. It was considerably steeper than the first side, and half way down it stopped abruptly for several yards, forming a jump, the height of Dick’s desire. The first time he went down he landed in a drift before he reached the jump. The second time was the last. He flew at a terrible rate over the crisp snow. At the jump he lost control of the sled. On and on he aped. It was great fun—until he sud- denly noticed that he was headed straight for the brook! And still he sped on. Crash! Through the bushes. Splash! Into the brook. The old tree groaned. Alice screamed, and Boh jumped forward on his sled to the rescue. And Dick ? He had the surprise of his young life. When his head ap- peared above water, another head ap- peared next to him and he looked straight into the astonished eyes of another boy! Dick couldn't believe his senses, and proceeded to make for shore. The other hoy did the same and when Bob arrived on the scene, he found two shivering boys staring at each othc»r. “Who under the sun are you?’ gasped the three at once. Then Bob came to his senses. “Never mind who we are. Here, Dick, you pile into my coat, and you put on my sweater and both of you run to Grandma's. And keep running! Don’t you dare stop or you’ll freeze.’’ The boys welcomed the dry coat and sweater anil started out at a brisk 7

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THE W I T A N PERFUME AND THE LADIES Perfume and the ladies—when we stop to think about that phrase, what a vast amount we find it contains. There are so many different types of perfumes and “ladies that a con- sideration of a few of them might prove very interesting:. It is a beautiful June night and the gentle breezes are softly blowing; among the trees. Inside of the pil- lared colonial mansion there is light, music and gay laughter. Presently thru a pair of wide flung French win- dows step two figures. He is immac- ulately clad in white flannels and a blue serge coat and as she comes into view, looking very demure in her snowy white dress, with just the faint- est suspicion of lavender about it— how sweet she looks! As they step off the porch, passing very close to us, there wafts back a delicate odor of lavender perfume. Just a hint and (hen it is gone and we cannot And it again. How very fastidious she is and how wisely she knows how to use her perfume. The scene changes and though it is still a June night it is a hot, sticky June night, and we are riding in the subway at six o’clock. As the car stops at the Forty-fourth street sta- tion we notice a young girl get on the car. She has on black slippers, white stockings, a flamboyant, very short, red silk dress and a black and red hat. Her lips and cheeks very nearly match her dress, while he eyebrows are plucked to a mere thin very black line and her hair, which shows be- neath her hat, is very curly. In her hand she carries a walking stick. A walking stick on the subway at six o’clock! We shudder to think of it. It does not take as long to notice all this as it does to write it and, besides, after the first startling glance we have ample opportunity to view her, for she comes and sits down next to us. Immediately we look at each other and mutely our eyes say “carna- tion ,M—she simply reeks of it. There is no faint hint that this fair lady has used perfume. One knows it! Again the scene shifts and we are having tea at the apartment of the languid lady who appears at our knock in a gorgeous gold and black tea gown. Her apartment is very evotic and from all s;des rise thin pale streams of smoke from her oriental incense. Every time she moves her heavily jeweled hand, and rustles the folds of her tea gown, we are conscious of sandalwood and other rare oriental perfumes. The whole effect is gorgeous, resplendent, ex- otic, but as we drink our tea it seems as though that too had been made under the magic oriental spell. G

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THE WITAN trot. It was hard work, they soon discovered, running in w et, stiff cloth- ing. Bob followed after as fast as he could, with Alice. When the latter two reached the farmhouse, they found Dick and the mysterious boy before the fire, talking as though they had been friends for life. “Can you beat it, Bob—oh, yes, this is Art Sanford—he lives on the farm right back of Grandma’s, on the State road, and he was sliding on a hill back of his house and fell in just the same as I did.” “Oh,” said Bob. And the three boys grinned in com- panionship. Marguerite Heydweiler '27. AROUND THE WORLD One time 1 went to England, Again I went to Spain; I took a trip to China, Another one to Maine. I like the little village Where trains go twice a day; I like the great rich city Where everything is gay. I visit every country, Though 1 am very small; You always pay my passage; I thank you one and all. Now, if you cannot guess me, Perhaps I'd better try To help you just a little— The postman's going by. —Marion Smith '25. BE HAPPY When all your friends desert you And the sun has left the sky. Do not be morose and lonely; There’ll be a rainbow by and by. For haven't you noticed quite often That, tho the storms he fierce and not few, There’s always a silver lining With a rainbow a-peeping thru? So smile tho your heart be heavy, And laugh, but do not frown, For there are better times coming And the sun will be shining down. —Louise Ruestow ’26. AUTUMN'S END 1 gazed from my window one chilly mom, As I lay cozily tucked in bed; The sky was a cold, dull, bluish gray. And the tree tops were leafless, and dead. The wind was howling, a dismal sound, The dead branches swayed to ami fro, And I wondered what secrets they whispered then That men should never know. And 1 thought of the summer that had seemed to pass Just a day or two ago, Anil of Autumn, speedily winging her way To a land that we do not know . And then, while I gazed, a white flake sped by, Then more, as though dancing in fun, Till the ground was covered with glistening white, And I knew that Winter had come. —Marguerite Heydweiller '27. THE BATTLE At night, when snuggled down in bed With covers tucked about my head, The armies of the day go by To be reviewed with inward eye. The smiles and quirks which pass that way Are all bedecked in proud array, While frowns and sulks with downcast eyes Slink by, with sullen and sloppy files. I look them over, up and down, And count the smile, and note the frown, And wonder which of the forces will win— A sullen look, or cheerful grin. The battle's fought, the smiles have won I The frowns are going on the run. And I turn to sleep the whole night through To prepare on the morrow my troops for review. —Arlene VanDerhoef '27. 8