Clifton High School - Rotunda Yearbook (Clifton, NJ)

Page 15 text:

THE REFLECTOR CLIFTON HIGH SCHOOL FEBRUARY 1927 Nora was thrilled, and confidentially told one of her new girl friends that he was simply gor- geous, and would make some splash if he ap- peared in Society in a dress suit. While Jimmy thought to himself how her eyes would dance and sparkle at the sight of society in New York. It was a darn shame the way “a nice kid like Jean didn’t have a show in the world.” Nora’s people did not miss her, as she was quite in the habit of visiting her friends unex- pectedly; besides, Nora had written once, send- ing the letter to Maine to be mailed. One Sunday morning Nora was lazily reading the Sunday newspaper in bed; quite a luxury, and very much appreciated, as a contrast to her usual rush to get out at six in the morning. Sud- denly, something seemed to snap in Nora’s brain, and she sat there staring, for who should stare at her from out of the depths of the So- ciety sheet but Mike Malone? Reading the caption under the picture, it slowly dawned up- on her mind that Mike Malone, her Mike Ma- lone, was none other than the son of the James P. O’Connor. Quite a personage in himself, as lie had obtained a degree at Dartmouth and was a popular member of the young set. Nora’s spirit was in a conflict, but her mind still worked on in its customary manner. She had every reason to believe that if she suddenly disappeared, this new life of his would sudden- ly seem boresome and dreary; he would search for her. Not finding her. he would return home in the hopes of drowning his emotion in activity. She would, of course, return to her people and sooner or later would come face to face with Mike and then—let fate run her own course. With Nora—to think was to act, and soon she was in the midst of the activities that are always in a whirl when the most prominent debutants are being presented. Nora loved this life but her anxiety grew when she heard no more of Mike. Meanwhile Jimmy had searched everywhere, but her landlady professed ignorance and her late acquaintances knew' nothing of her w’here- abouts and. true to form, Jimmie soon sought home and solace. Alas, or shall we say fortun- ately, his forgiving and over fond mother had other plans for him, and soon James was a popular member of the younger set. Rut Jim- my had not forgotten and soon memories of Jean came to disturb him. Pleasure hunting seemed trivial. One interested in reading news items of the doings of the 400 during the month of June in the year 1925 might have come across this clip- ping: Miss Nora Jean Delaney is to be form- al Iv presented to the society world at a dinner dance given for her at Sherry’s by her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Charles Delaney of 249 Fifth Avenue, New York City, on June the 19th. Miss Delaney was formerly a pupil of the Misses Sherwood’s School for young ladies. Miss Delaney is a niece of the Mrs. J. Astor. Her mother is a sister of the Honorable J. B. Kenington. We take the liberty of going uninvited to Sherry’s on the afternoon of the 19th. Nora was enthusiastically drawn into the arms of the younger set and her dances were much in de- mand. Upon this scene of activity comes one James P. O’Connor, bored—noticeably so, but driven hence by his loving parents to be formal- ly presented to the girl whom his parents de- sired him to marry. His eyes opened upon a scene similar to that enacted during his Junior year at college. Fat Lauder was again endeavoring to display his charms in the famous Banana Slide, this time to the strains of “This is my lucky Day.” Auto- matically James tapped Fat on the shoulder and was given a slender, dainty bit of fluff into his keeping. Some fragrance was wafted to his nose that seemed vaguely familiar. Soon Jim- mie was tapped, and as he surrendered his lady, he glanced at her face. “Jean!” ‘Mike!” Without any prethought he seized her, and before the astonished crowd could draw another breath, kissed her. “Nora’s father came over demanding an ex- planation. “Why, Nora, 1 never knew’ you knew Jimmie.” “Nora!” shouted Jimmy. “Why yes,” answered his father,” this is the daughter of my school-chum that I was telling you about.” But Jimmie w’as gone and, odd as it may seem, Nora was gone also. “Nora, did you know—?” “Oh, Jimmie,” replied Nora, alias Jean Pat- ton, “there’s time for all that later on,” and, as the moon w’ill confirm, tw’o silhouettes w’ere made one. If one is interested enough to look up Nora Jean Delaney in this year’s Social Register he will find a note referring him back to the O’s, but if one glanees there he will find a note re- ferring him to the D’s, which, if this is not clear, is simply a customary way of informing one that Miss Nora Jean Delaney is now Mrs. James P. O’Connor, Jr. Maude Andras, Feb. ’27. PAGE ELEVEN

Page 14 text:

T H E R E F I. E (TOR C L I F TON HIGH S C II O O I. F E H R I! A R V 19 2 7 JAMBS P. O'CONNOR Scuffle, shuffle, scuffle ! James P. O’Connor, for no other reason in the world except that he had just been disowned by his father, was start- ing out to set the world on fire by his own ef- forts. Now to understand this great phenomenon, it is necessary to know James P. O’Connor. James had been raised by his bored father and an over- fond mother in a Lord Fauntleroy atmosphere— private tutors, curls, velvet trousers and all that sort of thing. James, it must be said, had a fierce longing to be a regular fellow. This had its outcome when James was sent to Dartmouth, which had been his father’s college before him. James soon had a reputation as a social as- set and was the leader of all the social activities. It was James who set new styles, James who was chairman of the Junior Prom committee, James who became an enthusiastic Phi Sigma pledge. It was at the height of his career of success at college that Jimmie was chosen chair- man of the Junior Prom committee. He had gone stag and was condescendingly looking around to see that all was as it should be, when he saw Fat Lauder endeavoring to display his charms in the famous Banana Slide to the strains of Valencia. James watched sympathe- tically until he saw the face of the girl Fat was dancing with. It was tragic, and although it was against his principles, Jimmie tapped Fat on the shoulder and firmly but gently cut in. Soon he was tapped, the little incident was for- gotten. and the evening wore on to a successful close, from the social point of view. Jimmie’s college days came to a close, as all things surely must, and Jimmie set out for one good time before he went home to the old hum- drum. In the midst of all his preparations in pursuit of life, liberty, and happiness, a letter arrived from his unsympathetic father telling him of his forthcoming marriage with the daugh- ter of an old school chum of his, and the hope that he would consider his parent’s wishes and act accordingly. Jimmie wrote hack feelingly, and told them in none too gentle language that he would marry when and whom he chose. Forthwith he was disowned, which brings us to the immediate and uncertain present. By rea- son of his sudden and tremendous decision, Jimmie started out with hut twenty-five dollars, which is neither here nor there. Now we come to the girl that Jimmie said he would marry any one but. Nora Jean Delaney was a wild and flipping flapper who looked up- on the world as a “great old place,” and merrily anticipated adventure and romance. On the morning of her nineteenth birthday, hearing of her prearranged marriage with an unknown stranger of whom she had heard a great deal when in college, she smelt adventure, registered dismay, accepted as a peace offering a little Wills St. Claire roadster, and soon was off on the scent of adventure without so much as an extra lire. Therefore it was quite permissible when the frolicking autumn breeze caught up the words that had drifted out when a tack had thoughtlessly driven itself through the front tire, that it brought them to the ears of a dirty truck driver whom we know as James P. O’Con- nor, now known to the business world as Mike Malone. Upon hearing them he smiled, but hav- ing retained his chivalry, he was soon fixing Nora’s tire. This accomplished, he set out on his way with a belated order for Messrs. Swan Down. It was inevitable that Jimmie should think it a joke to obtain a position in his father’s em- ploy and then, having raised himself through the world via his father’s trucking business, to appear before his father and show him that he. James P. O’Connor, could earn his own liveli- hood. In order to make detection more impos- sible he changed his name to Mike Malone. Jimmie’s father, it must be said, was the J. P. O’Connor ol 25 years ago. whose eccentrici- ties were widely discussed. Jim’s father had made his fortune over night, as it were, but could not bring himself to give up the business which he had been horn and raised in. Before he became known as the James P. O’Connor of the social world he was merely Johnnie O’Con- nor, who owned several trucks and a horse. But Nora, women are such queer creatures, had fallen in love, and by grace of her Irish parents had set out in chase of her man. In the course of her self imposed task of trailing Mike Malone she became aware of the fact that Mike lunched in the Greasy Vest and resided at 159 Palm Street. Nora then retired to figure out a means of attack. Ideas came flowing in, hut most of them were discarded; finally she de- cided on a course and within the next hour the Greasy Vest had a new waitress, and 165 Palm Street a new hoarder. Jimmy came in for lunch the next day and of course Nora made it a point to wait upon him. He was struck by a faint resemblance which he soon scorned as impractical. Jimmy was hu- man. and if a pretty girl went out of her way to please him, of course Jimmie noticed, and didn’t raise anv strenuous objections. Soon Jimmie was dining nightly at the Greasy Vest, and in the course of time was accompanying Nora, now Jean Patton, to the movies once a week. They both remarked how coincidental it was that, out of the whole city of New York, they both happened to live within a few doors of each other. I AGE TEN

Page 16 text:

THE REFLECTOR CLIFTON HIGH SCHOOL FEBRUARY 1927 THE COURTSHIP OF LADY LUCK AND DAME FORTUNE Did you say Lady Luck never walks at your side And Dame Fortune is bitterly holding a grudge Against you? Say, lad. let me ask, have you tried To make friends with those two? If you never budge From your spot on the map and get out on your own, Why of course Lady Luck will stay far, far away! Do you think that your cowardly, whimpering moan Of weak discontent pleases Dame Fortune? Pray, What is it you think will entice Lady Luck? .lust sitting and waiting? No sir! You’re all w’rong! It’s courage, it’s gameness, it’s will-powered pluck! Lady Luck is the friend of the man who is strong. Get out and fight hard with an undying zest; Don’t shrink back in fear from the slash of Fate’s knife! Never quit! Never whine! Never let foolish pride Hold you back in disdain from the laboring swirl! You do that, and you’ll find Lady Luck at your side, And dear old Dame Fortune vour very best girl! “Pie.” JUST TRY Say, guy. Don’t sigh; Just try. Aim high. Don’t just sit, Work a bit; Let’s be fit; Fight with grit. A smile Is great When joshed By Fate. On your way With a smile; You'll find Life Well worth while! “Pie.” TO THE FRESHMAN There is no sense in fooling. And breaking every ruling. When you’re out to get your schooling. Little man. For the thing that you are after Isn’t won by idle laughter. Little man. If you want to be a master You have got to stick like plaster. In spite of each disaster. Little man. (Don’t let me hear you snicker)! You’ve got to be a sticker, Little man! You are in the stage of growing. Dig right in and keep on going, (Take a hint from one who’s knowing) ! Little man. Now’s the time your training takes you. And it either makes or breaks you. Little man. Fill your head chuck full or learning. Train yourself to true discerning Where the road you follow’s turning. Little man. You’ve four years of school before you. Do them justice, we implore you. Little man! A Senior. SNOW Snow, snow, where do you come from? Are you frozen rain, as they say? Or are you just a band of spirits, Kept for the winter’s day? I think that you are spirits sweet. With little souls all your own. That you do enjoy drifting earthward here. Though you know you are far from home. While flying downward thru the air. You look both left and right, As if to see as much as you can, Before on earth you alight. Myrtle Foy, June ’27. GREEN RUSHES No more shall your green blades push upward thru the mud. No more shall they wave to and fro, nodding subjection to the gentle breeze. No more shall the cattails stand like silent sen- tinels in the dusk. Joseph Gulardo, June ’30. PAGE twelve