Clifton High School - Rotunda Yearbook (Clifton, NJ)

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THE KEF L ECTOR CLIFTON HIGH SCHOOL FEBRUARY. 1925 To the Students: I deem it only right that a Senior should pass on some of the thoughts that have come to him through his four years of experience, with the hope that they may benefit the students of the lower classes. When I first entered high school, I fooled away my time, and I’m still fooling it away. The new system, the greater liberties, of which I took an unfair advantage, proved my undo- ing. Now, in my final year, I’m paying the penalty—a penalty which becomes harder each succeeding year. Perhaps you are fooling too, but you also will have to pay the penalty of which you know so little at present, but will experience with a pang of regret later. Now you say you’re getting away with it. True, you are for the time being; but you are only harming yourself. Often my teachers and Mr. Nutt have told me what I am telling you. They had had the ex- perience, and were trying to make me profit bv it; but youth so often will not listen, taking only experience as a teacher—a bitter teacher, and harder by far, as I have well found out. However, I’m not crying—not at all—but merely giving you a word that you may be wiser than I. You laugh, and you well may, lest the time to cry come sooner than you know. Respect your teachers, and Mr. Nutt es- pecially. If you are willing to work, he will do anything in his power for you. I have found him fair, square, honest, and in all respects a man to whom you may go with your troubles. He is trying to send you ahead, manages the school with ability, has many responsibilities, .and is, in my estimation, the best principal Clifton could have. Sacrifice other things for your studies, if you must. Boost the school— but not too noisily, in school, as I did. Support the teams to the best of your ability. Start the new High School right, and practice this ad- vice in the old. This is all I can say. The rest is for your own judgment. May it be fair. Remember, do the right thing to others and they will do the right thing to you. E. Homberg. A WORD FROM THE SCHOOL PAPER I f you a poem can give me, Or advice to me will lend, Come right up to my editor, Or your contribution send. I need my friends to help me With story, wit, or rhyme. To make me more appealing Each succeeding time. So then, just come right forward, And show what you can do,— For I am your school paper And I in representing—you. A. Crowther, June ’25. TO GREET YOU We greet you as before! And we hope that we won’t bore You with our book. In fact, We hope you’ll find it packed From the front right to the back. And nothing may it lack. But now we wish to thank All those on whom we bank. In whatever way or line, To make our book so fine. We hope you’ll help again,— We’ll let you know just when. Margaret Craig, February ’25. OBLIGING “I want a cake of soap, if you plaze, sor.” “Scented or unscented?’’ “Thank ye kindly, sor, I’ll take it wid me.” PAGE ELEVEN

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THE REFLECTOR CLIFTON HIGH SCHOOL FEBRUARY. 1925 spirit displayed by the students. Special commendation is due the members of the Senior 4-2 class who started the ball rolling with a pledge of one hundred dollars. The Senior 4-1 class was quick to fall in line with an offer to raise another hundred. The rest of the school was not far behind. Splendid spirit was displayed by the pupils of the sixth period 2-1 English class. In a con- test between boys and girls, these loyal students raised $116. The girls in Room 25 instituted the section room ads, and collected $57 in this wav. With such an enthusiastic effort, suffi- cient funds were soon obtained. Now that all anxiety is over we can think of the past events with a certain thrill of pleasure instead of alarm. The situation was really thrilling, hut the feeble constitution of the staff cannot endure many such sensations. So, stu- dents. let’s not wait next time until we are asked to help. Let’s pitch in at the start, and put the Reflector across with less regard for dramatic appeal. And if we do so, we’ll surely get the same feeling of satisfaction, the same “kick,” that we are getting now. And perhaps even more. M. Cantor, June '25. Dear Contributors: I’m not going to stop to thank you for what you have given us, but just take it to heart that we are mighty pleased with you. If you have handed in a contribution that has been accepted, do another for the next num- ber. Don’t stop there and think that your duty is over—or, rather, don’t think that the term of your privilege has expired. It never does— not until you have turned your back on Clif- ton High, never to walk within it again. 1 f you have handed in an article that was not printed, try, try again. Perhaps we liked it but couldn't use it. Don’t say, “Aw, I worked an hour and a half last time for the Reflector and they didn’t even give my work a show.” You will be wrong there. Everything from the big- gest story to the tiniest joke is given due con- sideration. Be a sport! Write some more! M. E. Craig, February, '25. A SUGGESTION What do we need in Clifton High School? Arc other high schools going ahead of us in branches where we perhaps could excel? If they are, let’s get busy. What about debating? Clifton High School has never had a debating team. We have our athletic teams which settle the question of vic- tory or defeat by physical prowess; why not a team to prove whether or not we have the mental edge on our opponents? .Judging from past performances on athletic fields, lack of ar- gumentation is not wanting, nor is there any lack of enthusiasm about the arguments. But— there is a time and a place for everything. Why not convert this tendency into more useful channels where its true worth will be appreciat- ed? In the olden days when church and state did not appear to go hand in hand some w'ise per- sons separated them. That’s what should be done to the sports and debating in Clifton High. Have a separate team for each, since either one, when coupled with the other, is not what might be called a success. But more seriously—we are behind the times in this respect. Other schools half our size are turning out teams of interseholastic competi- tion. and there is no reason why a school of our standing should not do so too. The new Clifton High School will open its doors in the fall. Let’s put this affair over with a bang, and have plans under way so that we can start things right in our new building. A debating team is an asset to any scholastic institution. It’s an idea. Think it over and then—ACT. Lee Adams, 4-1. Democracy 4-2 Class Miss Hill coming in room. “Austin, if you cut up this period I’m going to send you down to Mr. Nutt.” Austin—“But, Miss Hill. I’m not on speak- ing terms with Mr. Nutt.” Student—“Mr. Nichols, we ought to have a phonograph in this room.” Mr. Nichols-—“Why, haven’t we enough talking machines in this room already?” History Teacher—“What was Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address?” Student—“Why, I thought Lincoln lived in Washington.” PAGE TEN

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THE REFLECTOR CLIFTON IIIGII SCII O O L F E II R U A R Y. 19 2 5 A HIDE AM) SEEK IVAGER As evening approached, all appearances led to the belief that Southern England was soon to be in the siege of another heavy mist and fog cloud. These periods caused great depres- sions in the business of the inflicted areas, for the people were wont to remain in the security of their homes because the danger of robbery was ever present to both the pedestrians and the storekeepers. No sooner had night fallen than a plainly- dressed, elderly man sauntered in a leisurely manner from the lobby of a cheap hotel in a lowly district in Southampton. At the side- walk he halted and gazed up and down the street as though undecided in which direction to go. Though he finally decided to go towards the city, what he had seen had in no way in- fluenced his decision, for the gathering fog to- gether with the darkness of night made it quite impossible to see for any great distance. He had traversed but a few steps when a rolly- po’.ly individual slowly slipped out of a neigh- boring hall way and proceeded to follow that elderly gentleman. “Yah, dey make goot beer in Milwaukee,” he chuckled. He scurried across the street as he noticed the elderly man hailing a passing taxicab. The gentleman seemed to have chang- ed his mind; perhaps the weather was too nasty for walking. At any rate, he seated himself as comfortably as was possible in such rocking cabs, and through the mouthpiece directed the driver to Dock----of the Cunard Line. After what seemed to be endless rocking and jolting, the cab finally halted at his destination. Al- though it may have been unusual for people to board ships at night, the manner in which this gentleman was received would indicate that he had been expected. The Aquitania was well out to sea before the elderly gentleman ventured out on deck. He was still dressed in a plain black suit. He was quite spry for a gray haired man. A polite porter assisted him to his armchair and careful- ly arranged the blankets about the gentleman’s feet. Then the gentleman looked about him to view his neighbor loungers. At his right he met the gaze of the rolly-polly Dutchman. “Goot morgen. Mein name iss Hans Ober- staum. Maybe we was goot friends yet?” The gentleman nodded politely. “Good morning. I am pleased to meet you. My name is .John Brainard.” Having been thus encouraged Mr. Ober- straum proceeded to call loudly for a porter. “Moof mein chair a little ober nearer,” he or- dered the porter who had hastily answered his calls. The elderly man looked amusedly at the gesticulations of the Dutchman. After the chair had been manoeuvered to the satisfaction of the Dutchman, this cheerful character seated himself and proceeded to further his acquaint- ance with his new made friend. “Nice day, yah?” he began. “Yes, it is rather refreshing,” was the un- interested reply. “I peen going to Milwaukee,” Mr. Ober- staum continued persistently. “Yah, dey say dey make very goot beer dere. Where you peen going?” Mr. Brainard glanced sharply at his neigh- bor before he gave his reply. “Well, 1 have a little business in New York. I shall return immediately. More of a sea voyage, you know.” “Oh,” the Dutchman drawled knowingly. “Yah, I stob at New York for a while too.” Then followed a few minutes of silence in which neither one, apparently, could think of anything to say. Finally Mr. Oberstaum rose 1 and prepared to leave. PAGE TWELVE