Clifton High School - Rotunda Yearbook (Clifton, NJ)

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THE REFLECTOR CLIFTON HIGH SCHOOL F E B R C A R Y 9 2 6 ON A MEDITERRANEAN CRUISE The U. S. S. President Arthur left the port of New York at the stroke of mid-night on July 15, 1925, and began her cruise to the Medi- terranean and ports thereon. Down below, in its crew quarters, I was sleeping soundly, un- aware that I had begun a trip on which I was to see the most interesting sights that I had ever witnessed. The weather going over was variable, and the ship made good time—until a few deceptive boilers gave way beneath the great pressure placed upon them. New sights were numerous and we kept on the deck as much as our busi- ness permitted, and that means that we did not miss a thing. At two o’clock on the morning of July 29, Cape St. Vincent was sighted, and the next evening we passed through the famous Strait of Gibraltar, just as the sun was setting. It was a beautiful sight. The outline of the huge rock, impregnable against all forces, was commandingly standing out against the back- ground of the gray heavens. As we came along broadside to the fortress, we were asked for our credentials by the international code flashed from the depths of a huge searchlight. A few' minutes afterwards we entered the Mediter- ranean, with the porpoises swimming alongside our bow. From the Rock of Gibraltar to the Bay of Naples we encountered many scenes of beauty. Cape Gata, with its rocky shores upon which thunderous waves crashed and battled continu- ously, was a sight that excited us to admiration. Sardinia, with its coast of miles and miles of bays, peninsulas, and tiny roekv islands, which reflected the sun’s rays and broke them up in- to vivid colors, also held our attention. On August the second we steamed into the port of Naples and viewed with awe the well known crater of Vesuvius. At times the volcano grum- bled and puffed in spasms, and every now and then it emitted jets of brown steam which ex- ploded with a muffled roar into a volume of gorgeous and beautiful incandescent vapor, the color of old gold, that ascended in rich creamy rolls against blue sky. A small boy, probably American born but liv- ing in Naples, strolled aboard our ship and sur- prised us by his knowledge of our own country. Here was his version. “New Knglind is divided into three parts: Boston, Plymouth Rock, and down-in-Maine. The Capital is New York. Bos- ton is famous for its baked beans with Emerson sauce, served at all tea parties. As soon as little girls and boys are old enough to see they put them into spectacles and send them to slide down Bunker Hill, which is very famous be- cause King George’s red coats fought a resolu- tion never to use any word with an “r” in it. The Bostons won the penant and now they don’t have to use ‘V. But I’m glad I’m not a Bos- tonian because I like oysters. New York is the great white way because it is on a road of an- thracite. It is a big city and extends from the Statue of Liberty to the Statue of Tammanv, New Y—.” PAGE TWELVE

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T HE K E F L E C T () R C L I F T O N H I G If S C II () O L FEBRUARY 1926 HINTS DO YOU KNOW THAT WITHOUT A HIGH SCHOOL EDUCATION: A standard college will not enroll you as a student ? Your ambition to be a teacher can never be realized ? You cannot study law in a law school of re- cognized standing? Reputable schools of medicine will bar you as a student? Class “A” dental schools will not allow you to take their courses? Schools of engineering will not enroll you in courses leading to a degree? You are barred from entrance exams for West Point Military Academy? The U. S. Naval Academy will not allow you to take its examinations? You cannot secure a position of standing in the newspaper world? Radio engineering schools will not accept your registration fee? Nurse’s training schools will not consider your application for entrance? The possibility of ever becoming a private secretary is remote? Charles Pink el, June ’26. LIFE SPOIiTS Have you begun the mastery of some sport that you may enjoy throughout your life? If you haven’t, start now. Basketball, football, baseball, track, and such strenuous games arc fine, but you need more. You can count on your fingers the number of middle aged gentlemen who still cling to these four sports, for they are few. Of course, if you intend to become a fatty or a chair-ridden bookworm when you have passed the forty year mark, get under the covers, but if not, choose your game now, so you may en- joy it the rest of your days. Golf, tennis, hand- ball, swimming, hiking and bowling are all fine sports. Become proficient in one of them. The average middle aged man dislikes to take up a new sport at his time of life for fear he will be a duffer and will take a long time learning. 15ut if at that age you have already become ex- pert in some sport, ten chances to one you will play the game because you enjoy it.—Don’t forget, someday you will be middle aged, and if you would rather be fit than fat, at that time, choose your life sport now. F. E. N., Feb. '26. THE LANDING AT THE NEW HIGH SCHOOL The waves of hope dashed high On the Clifton High School site, While the trees against the sunny sky Tossed their branches in delight; The September day was fair. Blue, cloudless, was the sky, When a band of students cast their lot In the brand new “Clifton High.” Not as the slothful come With slow, indifferent step; They sauntered up, gay as could be, They were just full of “pep.” Not as the sad do come With countenance sad and drear; Their faces beamed with joy and light, They radiated cheer. Aye, ’twas a wonderous sight— The landing at “Clifton High,” And it will be sung in verse and song As the months and years roll by. Many more will be sheltered there, Many a seer or bard. For they’ve left untouched what there they found— Freedom to study hard. Dorothy Ridsdale, June ’26. PAGE ELEVEN

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T H E R E F L E C T ) R CLIFTON HIGH SCHOOL F E B R U A R Y 19 2 6 “Stop,” I shouted. “Now run along or else mamma will come along and spank you.” And I glared fiercely at the departing infant who had so queerly described the part of our country lying east of the Appalachians. After a five days’ run we arrived at Haifa. Here a shore boat came alongside to greet the visitors. It was a smart rowing boat with seven long oars, and the men who rowed it were dark skinned and wore bright red fezes. The sun Hashed from their oars as they rowed with a short, sharp stroke, sending the green hull of the graceful cutter smartly through the blue water. As they rowed they sang, the melody coming faintly at first, then growing clearer with a steady rhythmic cadence; and as the boat dashed up beside the gangway the oars were dropped bv the rowers with a swift, dramatic flourish, the song ended in a wierd rising note that seemed full of the joy of life, and the men laughed until their white teeth gleamed. After examining the city we left for Beirut, Jaffa, and then Alexandria. When we docked at Alexandria, all the peddlers in the near vicinity of Northern Africa must have rushed up the gangway, overcoming the weak attempts of the Masters at Arms to stop them. They strutted up and down the decks displaying their wares, and when one of the crew asked the price of a string of yellow beads we received the startling reply, “Ten dollars.” After ex- amining the beads 1 promptly bid the Egyptian Ponzi twenty-five cents cash in good American money. To my surprise the bid was accepted, but 1 refused, knowing that I could buy Mr. Woolworth’s products cheaper in the United States. At the gay city of Alexandria we also encountered different species of guides well versed in the art of guiding, and bills of fare of gigantic proportions which contained as much printing as the Encyclopedia Britannica, but meant little more than an ordinary menu. After leaving port and taking a last look at the Sultan’s five million dollar yacht, we re- turned to Haifa. Again the sandy plains and the sloping hill of Mount Carmel greeted us. Leaving Haifa we went through the calm sea to Naples, and after getting the most possible enjoyment out of that city we turned our eyes homeward. Through part of the Mediterranean, past the huge Rock of Gibraltar, into the rough Bay of Biscay, and then we steamed into the Atlantic Ocean. The time was long and the sea rough, but on the fifteenth of September, after pass- ing Nantucket Light Ship and Fire Island, we saw Coney Island, and then the gracious lady herself appeared holding her flaming torch high overhead as if welcoming us back, and signify- ing that our cruise was over. Fred Domina, Feb. ’2( . SAID THE SPECIALIST An exceptionally light tap upon the door of the office occupied by the Heart Specialist aroused the same into the realization that she had a visitor. She arose from her chair with- out haste. Serene, calm, and dignified, she made her leisurely way to the door and opened it. Before you are introduced to the visitor who is, by the way, to be known as the Distracted Lady, it is best that you know something about the Specialist -somewhat of the novel methods of her exceedingly strange business. First of all she was a “Doctor of Hearts,” a few of her lesser titles being “Hatcher of Affairs, “Mender of Hearts,” and “Madam Confidante.” Her plans seemed never to go amiss. With cool certainty and grim silence she heard a case to the end. Meanwhile her agile brain was in- specting it through a remarkably keen mind’s eye, sifting it and tearing it apart, placing each fact into a compartment of her extensive brain especially designed for it by merit of its importance. Thus at the end of a tale of woe she hesitated not an instant, but gave the ver- dict in tones so sure and certain that she seem- ed to challenge the very heavens to oppose her. But let us return to the Distracted Lady. She had taken a seat directly opposite to the Heart Specialist and was nervously fingering her hand bag as though she were at a loss as to how to begin. She was a very pretty girl, and, oh, so very young! She had crinkly brown hair that con- tained an abundance of queer little red lights, mischievous blue eyes, a very obstinate nose and laughing lips. But they weren’t laughing now. “Well?” inquired the Specialist in a strange- ly toneless voice that, like herself, betrayed not the least particle of emotion. The Distracted Lady stole a hasty glance at her advisor, hesitated a moment, swallowed hard, and began. “I suppose my case is rath- er common,” she said, her naturally musical voice husky with emotion that, try as she would, she could not conceal, “but anyway, it was like this. My—well, you don’t mind if I call him mv Cause of Distraction, do you?” The Heart Specialist solemnly shook her head. The faint glimmer of disdain upon her usually expressionless features dimly suggested PAGE THIRTEEN