Clifton High School - Rotunda Yearbook (Clifton, NJ)

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THE REFLECTOR CLIFTON HIGH SCHOOL FEBRUARY, 1925 Resignation: “There’s no use in rushing yourself. You’ll get to your destination even- tually.’’ Ambition: “Yes, eventually. But why not sooner?’’ They continued on in the same manner, un- til Ambition stopped, and glared across at his enemy. Suddenly he walked across to the other shoulder, and grasping Resignation attempted to shove him off into space. But Resignation resisted stubbornly and himself almost pushed the aggressor from his perch. Thus they fought, one striving to remove the other, while the stu- dent went on, unconscious of the terrific com- bat going on for the possession of his spirit. The struggle waxed fiercer. It seemed as though Resignation would carry the day. But, all at once. Ambition gave a mighty heave and threw his opponent into the air, where he dis- appeared. Then Ambition drew himself to his full height, folded his arms across his breast, and also disappeared. Simultaneously, Mr. Student braced his shoulders, threw back his head, and quickened his step. A new gleam was in his eyes, which seemed to look ahead at some unseen object or goal. No longer was his soul divided by dis- sension. Within him all was peace, but he did not wonder at the change, for he was an ordin- ary mortal. M. Cantor, June ’25. If you’re really not enjoyin' What seems to be your lot. An’ you feel that you’re deservin’ Somethin’ better than you’ve got— Jes’ learn to square your shoulders, An’ hold your head up high; You’ll feel a whole lot better If you care enough to try. It’s true—“as true as preachin’ ”— That most folks set an’ groan When Miss Fortune comes to see ’em, An’ seems to like their zone. There ain’t no use o’ settin’ When it’s up to you to prove That you’re stronger than your caller, An’ it’s time for her to move! M. Hanna, February ’25. THE WANDERINGS OF THE DI KE OF DEVONSHIRE “Duke,” remarked Arlene Davis, with the frank courage of an heiress to millions, I am sensible of the honor conveyed in your of- fer, but before I answer 1 must ask certain questions.” The duke bowed. “You know that dad. like most people who have made money suddenly, is an ultra Tory. “We are Tories ourselves,” observed the duke. “Ob yes, but faineants in Toryism, accord- ing to papa,” she retorted, with a depricatory gesture. “You must do something to convince him that you are as intensely anti-Radical as he is himself. How many votes are you en- titled to cast at the coming general election?” The duke produced a betting book and has- tily made a calculation. “Well,” he said, “there is the vote in Dale- shire. and in Shropshire, and in Devon on the Rivers Court estate, and in the boroughs of Moreton, Dalehampton, and Middleton. In London constituencies”— Arlene began to look appalled. “How many in all in England?” she inter- rupted. “Thirteen. And then in Scotland—One in “Thirteen. And then in Scotland—one in Inverness, the Lowland estates give me one in Lanark, Dumfries, the Lothians.” He caught her look of appeal and finished, “seven in all. Then in Ireland—but all these details must tire you. Summing them all up, I have thirty- six votes—no, thirty-seven. I forgot that 1 have one vote in the island of Orkney.” M iss Davis sank back in her chair with a little sigh. The duke stared in a puzzled man- ner alternately at her and at his betting book. Finally she broke the silence. “Only last night dad was saying that if at the next election any Tory gentleman failed to vote his utmost capacity be would consider him as a traitor to the cause. Duke, you ask what you can do to win me. Vote for the cause in every one of the constituencies where you pos- sess suffrage.” The poor duke stood aghast. “But, Miss Davis,” he protested, “have you considered? I have thirty-seven constituen- cies. Many of the elections in these places oc- cur on the same day. Some of them are hundreds of miles apart. It is impossible!” Miss Davis rose from her chair as she said firmly, “I have answered you.” The duke had also risen with a rather awk- ward dignity. “Arlene,” he said, “if I do not vote legally from every one of those consti- tuencies you shall never see me again.” PAGE EIGHTEEN