Clifton High School - Rotunda Yearbook (Clifton, NJ)

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THE REFLECTOR CLIFTON HIGH SCHOOL FEBRUARY 1927 An Introduction Je suis—qui?” is all I'll sign. 1 hope you’ll like my verse. Beneath these triolets of mine “Je suis—qui?” is all I’ll sign; I’ll grant they’re neither great nor fine, But still there have been worse. “Je suis—qui?” is all I’ll sign. I hope you’ll like my verse. A Tviolet A triolet’s a cheery thing. So short, hut ah ! so full of light! It seems to dance, it seems to sing. A triolet’s a cheery thing, It lilts along on speedy wing, A star-like bit of rhyme in flight. A triolet’s a cheery thing. So short, but ah! so full of light! The Rain I hear the pattering of the rain Like dancing fairies’ feet, That dance, then rest, then dance again. I hear the pattering of the rain (Perhaps they dance to hide some pain) And, oh ! the sound is sweet! I hear the pattering of the rain Like dancing fairies’ feet. I Asked Her to Go Out with Me I asked her to go out with me, And gosh! she answered, “Yes.” It made my heart beat swift with glee; I asked her to go out with me. And, asking, met with great success. So her kindly heart I bless! I asked her to go out with me, And gosh ! she answered “Yes.” In Latin Class In Latin class We suffer so! The minutes pass In Latin class As if Time’s glass Had ceased its flow. In Latin class We suffer so! “Je Sris—Qui?” A Chance “Je suis—qui?” has changed his sphere; Some rondeaus he is now essaying And hopes that you’ll not start to jeer. “Je suis—qui?” has changed his sphere. His brow is pale and white with fear, And for success, oh ! how he’s praying! “Je suis—qui?” has changed his sphere; Some rondeaus he is now essaying. These Old French Forms These old French forms! I find them so Entrancing! Poets never know How sweet their muse can really be, How clear their lyre’s ecstacy, Until they’ve tried to fashion a rondeau, Ballade (these are the forms that show How swift his rhyming pen can go) Or triolet. So light and free— These old French forms! Their rhymes go rippling to and fro Right merrily; they’re seldom slow, (Although a weightier minstrelsey At times may enter). With laughing glee In calm serenity they flow— These old French forms. “Je Suis—Qui?” THE MYSTERY OF THE HIDDEN ARM The fog was of the thick, “pea-soupy” type, so common in the city of London, especially in that section along the banks of the Thames. The cabs were running along slowly and the omni- buses were barely crawling. Mixed with the fog was a slight drizzle that wet one through to the skin in a few moments if one were unlucky enough to be caught in it without an umbrella. The crowds were just getting out from the theatres and most of them were directing their steps towards one of the numerous night-clubs with which the Strand, England’s Broadway, was spotted, or rather, splashed. Suddenly out of the crowd stepped two elderly men, Mr. Hartley, talking rather rapidly, and Mr. Smithe, who listened to every word attentively. Evi- dently they were discussing something of im- portance, for they neglected to take an omnibus, but instead turned down Ramsey Street as a short-cut to Mr. Hartley’s house. “What is the use of going around through the ‘bright-lights’ when we can reach home quicker this way, and it is also easier to talk while in one of these quiet streets,” explained Mr. Hart- ley. “Just as you say,” agreed Mr. Smithe, and they again entered into the argument in which they seemed to be very interested. After they had talked for five or ten minutes, they lapsed into silence. Suddenly Mr. Hartley turned to tell Mr. Smithe something, but he could see his companion nowhere. After several minutes of futile searching, he directed his steps toward his nephew’s house. Once there he explained everything and his relative, I)an Hardy, bade him pass the night with him. Once Mr. Hartley had fallen asleep, Dan went out, and with the directions given him by his uncle, found the place of the disappearance. PAGE SIXTEEN

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THE REFLECTOR CLIFTON HIGH S C H O O L F E R R U A R Y 19 2 7 a policeman. He could hear Spot growling ex- citedly, hut the little animal was too small to he of any help (as Dan thought). A hand with a vise-like grip found Dan’s throat, and he tried uselessly to free himself. “I’ve got him!” said a heavy voice. Dan had a glimpse of a leering face before him. He struggled again and managed to free one hand. The next instant a little hall of growing fury leaped, and sharp puppy's teeth sank into the wrist of the man who held Dan. He gave a yelp and kicked poor Spot, crying, into a corner. Dan’s hand came in contact with something cold. It was a wrench. Grabbing this lie struck wildly in the darkness. The heavens spread full of stars for the thief as the wrench struck a blow on his head. “Kick my dog. will you?” Dan yelled ang- rily. A few moments and the other man fell. Hurt and dizzy the hoy humped against some- thing which seemed familiar to him. It was Gipsy! Delighted with finding his car he al- most forgot about Spot until he heard him cry- ing in the corner. Then, again thinking of the men, he wished to escape before they regain- ed consciousness. Quickly and carefully he felt his way to the doors and opened them. He then helped his pal, who had helped him more than anyone else could have helped. He care- fully lifted the little form and put him in the seat. One of the men began to sit up! Dan jumped into the car, started it, and was soon out on the street, leaving the thieves behind. 'rile streets were beginning to be crossed by early-risers, and the first streak of daylight was shining over the horizon. Dan sped over the dirty streets toward the better section of the town. Poor Spot still lay beside Dan, crying softly. Dan loved him more than ever now be- cause of the great help he had been to him in recovering Gipsy. He wondered how Spot had got away from the thieves. Hut now for the the first time he noticed a small piece of rope hanging from the pup’s collar. The end had been chewed off. So the game pup had chewed himself loose and had come all the way home to get his master! The town was reached and Dan went straight to the Doctor’s house, for he knew Doctor would not he up at such an early hour. Again he took his beloved pet in his arms and rang the bell of the house. It was some time before the Doctor made his appearance at the doorway, showing signs of having hastily dressed. “What’s the matter? the Doctor asked. “Here, Doe..” Dan’addressed him as soon-as he appeared, “you're a good doctor and I want you to fix up this little pup for me.” “Hut began the doctor. “No hut’s about it,” replied the boy. “This pup needs your help. Please tend to him quick- ly r Saying nothing else the doctor took Spot into his office while Dan anxiously waited in the waiting-room. He tried to read the magazines hut he couldn’t do anything except look anxious- ly at the office door. Would his pal he all right or would lie die? This and many other ques- tions fronted him as he waited. In half an hour the doctor appeared with the pup in his arms. “How is he?” immediately asked Dan. “Oh, your hound will he all right, but you’ll have to keep him quiet. I did a good job on that leg.” Dan took Spot in his arms and the little ani- mal cast a kind and thankful glance at Dan. “Say, young man, aren’t you doing an awful lot for a mongrel?” asked the doctor. “Mongrel nothing!” grunted Dan as he ten- derly petted the puppy. “He’s my pal now. See?” he added, a trifle unsteadily, as a pink tongue kissed his hand. Lester Spangenbf.rg, June ’28. A WINTER SCENE I stood entranced, gazing out of the broad bay-window at the panorama lying before my eyes. Snow! Snow every where! All was still with a stillness that compels reverence. A little cluster of pine trees stood aloof and proud, weighted down with their fleecy burden. Down in the valley was a sight that inevitably thrills the heart of a winter sportsman, a lake covered firmly with ice. The air rang with the cries and shouts of the ice skaters. An enormous fire burned merrily to one side. Suddenly out of this merry making scene sounded the deep, im- pelling voice of church beds. For one precious moment all was still, hut soon high spirits reign- ed again. At last I could resist it no longer. I bundled up, and, with one last look at the cozy room I was leaving, I stepped out into the cold crisp air. The snow crackled beneath my feet. I felt exhilirated! Thanksgiving filled my soul, and I felt as if great deeds could be accomplish- ed with ease. Maude Andras, Feb. ’27. PAGE FIFTEEN

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T HE HE F L E C T O R CLIFTON HIGH SCHOOL FEBRUARY 1927 It was about four A. M. when Dan came back. He immediately prepared for bed; and though he was dead tired, he was up again at seven. Mr. Hartley woke at eight and by the time he was downstairs, Dan was just leaving. “Be ready to go with me at twelve, uncle admonished Dan. “All right, but be very careful. Dan, won’t you r “Sure, but don’t you worry about me,’’ ad- vised Dan. closing the door. At exactly twelve, the two of them left the house and started in the direction of Ramsey Street. While they were walking there, Dan outlined his plan to his uncle. He was to walk forty yards behind Mr. Hartley, who would be on the edge of the curb. Thus would they pro- ceed past the spot where Mr. Smithe had varn- ished. After walking about ten yards, Dan saw an arm shoot out from the wall. He was about to call to his uncle when he saw that he was at least ten feet from the wall. The arm was quickly withdrawn and Dan was about to hurry to investigate the wall when he saw his uncle fall heavily, as though hit in the head. He ran up and examined him. On finding him still alive, he called a taxi and brought Mr. Hartley to his home. Once Mr. Hartley was put to bed and his head bathed with water, Dan called in his favorite physician. The doctor ordered absolute silence and Dan decided to sleep that night at his own home. He promised to return the first thing the next morning. The next day Dan Hardy returned as he had promised, and his uncle was sitting up in bed. “If it were not for the thick crown in your hat. I’m afraid you wouldn’t be here now,” said the doctor. “But I can’t see yet what hit him,” said Dan. “The arm that I saw shoot out from the wall had a small bag, not unlike the sandbag used by thugs. It didn’t come within six feet of him.” “Well, whatever it was that hit him, it has had the same effect as a hard blow, and I fear it has given him concussion of the brain,” re- plied the doetor. “Is there any blood clotting yet?” asked Dan. “Not yet, but I think that if it is going to clot at all it will start about noon, today.” All this conversation had taken place outside the old man’s room and the two turned to enter. “How do you feel now. uncle?” asked Dan concernedly. “I feel pretty good now, except for my head. I think it must have been a piledriver that hit me he replied. Mr. Hartley then attempted to talk about Mr. Smithe, but Dan skillfully led the talking into other channels. Mr. Hartley soon express- ed a desire to sleep, and as it was about nine P. M., Dan having spent the whole day there, his wish was granted. On his way home, Dan Hardy saw in his newspaper, in glaring headlines, a detailed ac- count of two mysterious murders in Ramsey Street. Both occurred the same way as Mr. Hartley’s accident. Evidently the reporters hadn’t gotten wind of his accident, as there wras nothing in the paper about it. Both these men were executives in large concerns. One, Mr. Forsythe, was the president of the Continental Marine Corporation. This report made Dan change his plans and he immediately proceeded to Ramsey Street. On reaching the spot where Mr. Hartley had been assaulted, he darted into the open doorway. Creeping along the dimly lighted hallway, lie could hear no sound other than the creaking of the old boards beneath his weight and the scur- rying of rats. After proceeding a wav, lie came to a “Y”, and not hesitating an instant, he crept dow'n the left one. He soon came to a door. On opening it he saw behind it a room. This he entered, his revolver ready in his hand. What moment and from what corner might come a bullet or one of those death-dealing “no- things,” he knew’ not. But his flash showed the room to be empty. He examined it thoroughly and could find no trace of door or closet. Dan was about to retrace his steps when he heard the door close on him and the lock snap. He placed his whole one hundred ninety-five pounds of solid flesh and bone against it, but it w’ould not budge. Once more he examined the walls and saw’ a picture hanging rather crookedly on the wall. He also noticed that there was no dust on it as there wfas on everything else in the room. He took the picture down, and to his de- light saw a button behind it. He pressed it and suddenly heard a creaking rioicc on the opposite side of the room. He turned quickly and saw a portion of the wall swinging in towards him. He stood for a second and it closed. He again pressed the button and this time he entered the wall and mounted the steps which he found there. After he had ascended approximately twenty- five steps he heard the door close on him again. Therefore he knew that his only salvation lay in going straight ahead. He had climbed about twenty-five more, using his flashlight occasionally, when he came to a wall. He pushed easily on this and to his amazement, it swung inwards on hinges into an- other room like the first. The only difference was that this one showed signs of being habited, since it contained a table, three chairs, a small oil lamp, and a telephone As Dan stood look- ing at all these things, he suddenly heard sever- PAGE SEVENTEEN