Clifton High School - Rotunda Yearbook (Clifton, NJ)

Page 10 text:

the student body, as well as the faculty, of their new visitor. True, while he is very small and, for the most part, silent, it would be much more courteous to greet him kindly than to welcome him with a burst of laughter. The other day, during seventh period, he made himself known to me. Perhaps it was the pleasant tick of the typewriters that attracted his attention; or the feeling that one of his little enemies and prey was in hiding behind the bookcase, that made him favor Room 9. At any rate, he made his first visit, to be greeted with a burst of laughter. Puzzled, he stood still, calmly surveying us all with a wounded dignity very becoming to his type of gray beauty. His yellow eyes peered out from under their shelter of hair and looked vainly for a sympathetic, unlaughing face. Then he calmly walked around the room investigating his different ridiculers. Now and then he uttered a faint “ Meow,” and one or two lucky individuals were favored with a choice rub of his silver body. He has been with us now for several weeks. Let us show him that his charming personality is very welcome. We trust that those of the student body who formerly laid the cause of their mislaid books at the doors of the mice, will give pussy a hearty welcome, for their enemies will be greatly lessened. (We’re not mentioning names, though!) VIRGINIA RUHE, ’22. H U To the Editor of the “Reflector”: Sir:—May I present the following situation to the readers of the “Reflector”? “I have five minutes to get there, and if I don’t make it, I’m finished!” Just then the traffic cop blew his whistle, signalling “Stop.” The excited man drew out his watch. His stock would be sold in three minutes. He felt as he sometimes felt in his dreams. He wanted to run and—oh!—something just held him back. This man was, without a doubt, excited and hurrying to his business. Do we in the corridors look as if we had an important business deal to accomplish? Is it fair for us to drag along the corridors and make the traffic congested, thereby hindering some ambitious student from accomplishing his aims? We should, therefore, walk in line without misleading the traffic, and look as if we had to get there in two minutes or suffer! MARIE BENNETT, ’22. Page Eight

Page 9 text:

In the first place a school of the prominence of ours, with the repu- tation it has for turning out competent graduates, should have something in the nature of a first class lunchroom, where the best of food could be served at a reasonable cost. The students are compelled to carry lunch and eat it in the class- room. This should not be. A cold lunch, five days in the week, is not ex- actly the proper thing for growing girls and boys, and when we stop to consider that our energies are taxed in an endeavor to meet the require- ments of the curriculum, it seems to me that the Board of Education should provide a comfortable place for the student body and the faculty to “ eat, drink and be merry.” But I presume all this will be remedied when the new High School is built. Let us hope so. ELINOR E. HANNA, ’22. 8? 8? “8? To the Editor of the “Reflector”: Sir:—Far be it from me to pick a quarrel with my fellow-victims, but I should like to make a comment on a conversation I overheard the other day. C.: “Remember that pair of sneaks I had last week, Jim?” J.: “Sure—those black ones, you mean?” C.: “Yes. Well, today I went to get them for Physical Training, and they were gone. Some boy stole them. I’ve looked all over. Gee, this is the second pair, too.” Have YOU ever had that experience? A dandy, fine pair of running shoes with great big rubber suction soles. Gone? Yes, gone. Look, there they are all in a pile. This is a sad story: A boy with sneakers—A boy without them. Here’s a little suggestion: When you go to school tomorrow look up your sneaks; tie them to the desk out of your way and there you have them. Less tempting to take, aren’t they, than when you throw them in a pile on the floor? A square deal is sufficient. Use it for the welfare of the school. R. RITCHIE, ’22. 8? ‘S? 8? To the Editor of the “Reflector”: Sir:—It is always the proper thing for a host or hostess to welcome their guests, so it might be well if we took this opportunity of telling Page Seven

Page 11 text:

THE PROFESSOR HE professor was a short, thick-set man; built not after the fashion of a modern skyscraper, but more like a medieval tower, for solidity and endurance. Lying in a hammock, after his luncheon, he relaxed his brain, weary after the semester’s exertion, and thereupon slept. Thence, he found himself traveling away o’er wooded highlands upon his first bear hunt. Having rested upon his shoulder a heavy, horn-barreled shotgun, and straddling a weak, worn out donkey, he ad- vanced. Miles and miles he sped on, passing deserts, marshes, rivers and mountains. Upon approaching a canyon, he spread the donkey’s legs, twisted his tail and cried, “Advance!” The donkey leaped swiftly into space, and treading air he advanced speedily to the other side. He landed safely and rode on. Finally he arrived at a great forest. Here our worthy colleague dismounted, and from his pocket took a can of molasses. He opened it and placed it upon a nearby rock. He remounted once more and waited, day-dreaming, for his bear to approach. Suddenly his day-dream ceased. In one horrible moment he was tossed into the air as if by an eruption of Mount Vesuvius. Upon alight- ing, he quickly clasped an oak tree in his grasp and looked about to see the cause of his misfortune. Upon the ground a short distance away, a bear, a great black bear, was smelling of his gun and placidly licking the trigger, while his donkey was speedily vamoosing into a nearby thicket. What should he do—where should he flee ? That was the problem. He meditated solemnly for five minutes, during which time the bear had digested the molasses, and finally a brilliant idea burst upon his fertile gray matter. The professor had seen rattlesnakes tamed by a flute; why should not a bear be tamed Page Nine