Clifton High School - Rotunda Yearbook (Clifton, NJ)

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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

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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

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THE REFLECTOR CLIFTON HIGH SCH O O L FEBRUARY 1927 PALS A mid-day sun was shining upon the little village of Claxton, and a warm breeze blew lazi- lv through the green leaves of the huge oak trees that lined the main road. l)an Rodger sat against a tree in the yard of his home on Columbia Avenue, enjoying the adventures of an exciting book. Occasionally, the pages of his book rustled with the breeze that blew the scent of roses through the air. In the rear of the yard was a garage in which stood Gipsy, a red roadster, which was Dan’s greatest pride and enjoyment. He had worked hard for it in Lambert’s Grocery store down in the center of the town. The roadster was a nice little affair, clean and well-kept. During his spare hours Dan would clean and re pair it and then take a ride to town or through the country lanes. He attended high school and was very fond of history. Today was Saturday, and as he was so ab- sorbed in his book lie did not notice a small pup- py crossing the road, directly in the path of an oncoming automobile. He was now startled by the yelps and cries of the pup as the auto struck it. The motorist did not stop, but drove on, leaving the pup limping to the curb. It got as far as the lawn in front of Dan’s house and there it fell. The boy, so startled by the sudden happening and drowsy from reading, sat there in a stupor for a minute. Then he jumped to his feet and ran toward the injured animal. The pup proved to be no more than a plain mongrel with wiry white hair and a patch of black over his right eye. It had an extraordin- arily long tail, far too long for its body, a dozen times. It lay there crying with its side bleeding, but that was all the boy could find wrong with it. The pup cast curious glances toward Dan, which seemed to soften the boy’s heart. He put his hand close to it to see if it were friendly. It said nothing and so, seeing it needed help, he gently carried it around to the back of the house and laid it under a large apple tree. He quickly got some hot water and bathed the cut. The little ball of fur ceased crying and lay still, eyeing Dan curiously. An apple getting too heavy for the limb upon which it hung, fell to the ground directly in front of the pup. It quickly got to its feet growling at the apple. The boy almost fell with laughter and kicked the apple away. “More frightened than hurt,’’ was the motto Dan put upon the pup. “Well, youngster,’’ Dan addressed him, “how do you feel now?” The pup answered and gave his thanks by licking Dan’s hand with a small pink tongue which came from a grinning mouth. “Yes, you’re here.’’ said Dan, “but how long you’ll stay I couldn’t say. Dad may like your long tail and homely figure and he may not. You’ll need a name, too. won’t you? Well, you’ve a black spot over your eye so I’ll call you Spot. That’s your name from now on if no one claims you. Do you understand?’’ Probably Spot knew what Dan said and may- be he didn’t, but anyway he answered with a weak puppy-like bark. “Hungry?” asked Dan. The pup said nothing, but after five minutes a bulging pup, having surrounded a whole can of condensed milk, to say nothing of half a box of crackers, lazily walked over toward the tree and lay down on the smooth lawn to rest. “A dog’s life.” sadly said the boy as he went in for supper. Dan had lost a dog just a year ago, so the boy wished with all his heart that his father would let him keep his new-found friend. Mr. PAGE THIRTEEN