Clifton High School - Rotunda Yearbook (Clifton, NJ)

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THE REF L E C T O K CLIFTON HIGH SCHOOL FEBRUARY 1928 “Never mind, son. Neither of us are ever perfect and this being your first day I will for- get this incident,” said the Dean as his clear gray eves looked into the blue ones of the boy. Before returning to the kitchen Douglas prom- ised that this would be the last time such a thing would happen and—it was. I’m sorry Splutters for spilling some of that coffee on you this morning,” apologized Doug- las upon meeting his victim of the morning on the wav to class. “Th— th-that’s all - all - right. d-d-d-Dotig,” beamed Splutters, “I-I-I remem-remember th- the time when I-I-I did a-a-bout th-th-the same th-th-thing. It was th-th-this way— Whereupon the ever willing narrator began telling one of his well-known unlucky happen- ings. “Gosh Doug! but the Dean let you off easy,” wore the many congratulations on every side as Douglas greeted his friends. “The Dean is a good scout anyway,” he re- plied. “He always treats a fellow right.” This was true in every respect for Colonel Morris believed in disclipining his pupils as they rightly deserved. The football season had opened and with it had arisen in Douglas a desire to make the team. One of the requirements of every mem- ber was to pass every exam, also to stand well in his class work. This Douglas had decided to do. With the approach of the mid-year exams, Douglas was forced to give up a few more of his working hours each day to study, and study he did till each lesson seemed to dance before him even in his sleep. The days of the exams finally arrived and with it came the numerous queries. Who’s going to be on this year’s football squad ? The shrill peals of a bell called the excited students to their respective classes. With just a nod of greeting to each other, they sped across the campus intent on but one thing—to get in a few minutes more of study before the bell rang. Every young man was writing away as though his life depended on it and many a ner- vous hand rumpled a smooth head of hair. The scratching of pens and the slow foot-steps of the Dean were the only sounds disturbing the stillness of the room. Suddenly they ceased and Douglas on looking up spied the tall figure of the Dean standing before his desk and gaz- ing intently at a small ball of paper thrown carelessly at his feet. Stooping down he picked it up and after hurriedly glancing at it he thrust it into his pocket, without a word. A queer look passed over his face as Douglas’s smiling eyes met his, but without speaking he passed on, grim determination in his every move. “Now why did Mr. Morris look at me so strangely,” thought Doug, as he once more be- gan answering the somewhat difficult ques- tions. He was to know the reason that same after- noon for, upon answering a knock at his door, he was given a summons to appear before the Dean that very day. On entering the Dean’s private sanctuary his startled gaze rested upon a queer sight. In one corner of the room sat ‘Pretty” Clark a woe begone look covering his countenance. The Latin teacher sat on the op- posite side looking vacantly out of the window while Mr. Morris sat at his desk fumbling with a wrinkled sheet of paper.- Upon Douglas’s entrance he looked up with a frown. “Mr. Daniels, what is the meaning of this?,” he sternly demanded. “It was found under- neath your desk. Your test paper was looked over and we found that your mark was ninety- eight per cent. No student has as yet received so high an average. This paper seems to in- dicate that you knew what the questions would be.” “Sir, please explain! I do not know the meaning of this,” cried the now puzzled Doug- las. Look at this,” answered the Dean as he thrust a crumpled examination sheet into Doug- las’s hand, “It was found beneath your desk. This young man,” he continued, pointing to “pretty,” claims that he saw you looking at this paper.” “Pretty, how could you! You know that I have never seen this paper before,” burst out Douglas with an angry flush on his cheeks. “Sir, he is guilty. Look at his face,” sneered “Pretty,” an accusing finger pointed at Doug- las. “Mr. I -ane, is this the paper you found to be missing?” questioned the Dean. “Yes sir, it is!” promptly answered the teacher. “You see, Mr. Danials, circumstances are against you,” dryly commented the Dean,” and this means being dishonorably expelled from the Academy.” “But, sir! I never saw this paper before,” remonstrated Douglas. “You are suspended from your classes until you confess,” replied the Dean slowly. By the next day the Campus was on fire with the news of Doug’s suspension. In their hearts, each and every one of them believed Douglas to be innocent. PAGE TWELVE

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THE REFLECTOR CLIFTON HI OH SCHOOL FEBRUARY 1928 CHAPTER II Time had wrought great changes upon the once happy-go-lucky youth, leaving a serious- faced hard working young man. The great pathway of life was hard and rough traveling for Douglas, but as some other weak-willed young man might not have done, he kept dog- gedly onward, his lips set in a grim straight line. After his father’s estate had been settled, Douglas found that the cottage alone remained and this he decided to lease to an old couple who had expressed a desire to make the little cottage their home. Now a college education would cost money but of this there was very little. “Therefore the next best thing to do,” thought Douglass, “is to find a suitable posi- tion at which I can earn a sufficient amount to cover my expense at college.” But this was more easily said than done, for it was many months of weary interviews and inquiries before he secured work. All this while, his money was slowly diminishing, so it was with a thankful heart that Douglas tackled his self-imposed work, vowing that as long as there was a bit of breath in his body he would not “lie down on the job.” Time waits for no one and a year had slowly rolled by with nothing of an exciting nature happening except the day when Mr. Grayson, his employer, had announced an increase in Douglas’s salary, which was accepted with the greatest joy, for this would help his savings multiply. To Douglas’s chagrin, on counting up his hard earned savings lie found that he had only enough money to carry him through a year at college. Of course this Was a bitter disappointment to the youth. He was now fac- ing a new difficulty: should he continue work- ing for another year, or go to college and try to work his way through by doing extra work after classes. He decided on the latter and in due time sent in his resignation to his employer. On the day of his departure, Douglas’s co- workers accompanied him to the station to bid him good-bye. He had so arranged that he could take a train which would stop for at least a half hour at his home town. In this short time he had decided to visit the last rest- ing place of his parents. The snug little village and the cozy cottages seemed to calm his racing heart, but the quiet peace of the tiny graveyard on the hill appealed to him more than ever. Tears dimming his vision, head bowed, he stood gazing sorrowfully at the two graves. He stood in the deepening twilight as he had that memorable day when he had seen the remains of his beloved father lowered into that yawning chasm, now a mound. CHAPTER III Rah, rah, rah! Renault’s, Renault’s! Rah, rah, rah!” The cheer was deafeningly shouted by an enthusiastic group of young men who were jostling out of the Renault’s station. Each young man wore that same big grin which can be seen on the face of every freshman who thinks that college is one great joke—a life of fun and pranks—wild parties and dances. Yet not on every one’s face, for there in the crowd could be distinctly seen, the grim face of Doug- las. He knew that college for him would mean long hours of work and study. Had he not vowed to make a success of his venture? Had he not vowed to make his Dad’s dream come true? He smiled grimly as the merry crowd pushed him on his way. Renault’s Medical College at last and at the entrance gates a group of Sophs with wide spread grins of anticipation for approaching freshies! “Hi, there Pretty,” cried one boisterous fel- low, “let’s show these freshies around the town,”—adding with a wink,” They want to join the T Am A Booba club. Oh yes! they’ll enjoy it they will. Ha, Ha.!” Thus with much bantering back and forth Douglas Danials, and his recently acquired friends, entered into the merry life at Renault’s. CHAPTER IV Crash! Bang! “E-e-eow! H-h-he s-s-spi- spilled th-the c-c- coffee o-o-On m-m-me.” “Say Splutter drop the chatter. You’re not dead yet.” “Y-Y-yes, I’m a-a-about d-d dead,” stut- tered “Chick” Zarn with a queer look on his face which sent the young men into hearty fits of laughter. “Here, here, what is all this noise?” cried a deep, kindly, masculine voice, “Douglas Dan- ials I never thought that you could cause such a rumpus.” “I’m sorry sir, but it wasn’t done intention- ally,” answered a much besmeared student. The remains of what had been a soft boiled egg clung to his sunny hair, while his immacu- lately clean white apron and blouse were ac- tually drenched with coffee and stained with eggs. So sorry a looking spectacle as Douglas then presented had never before been seen. Even the kindly Dean himself was inclined to smile but instead he kept as straight a face as was possible. To add to Douglas’s misery and embarrassment, his fellow students, unable to contain themselves any longer, let forth roars of laughter. About to flee to privacy of the kitchen. Douglas was halted by a friendly hand on his shoulder. PACE ELEVEN

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THE REFLECTOR CLIFTON HIGH SCHOOL FEBRUARY 1928 Poor Douglas, in the privacy of his room, prayed that the guilty one might be found. Early Monday morning a flustered little pre- ceptor burst into the Dean’s office. “I’m sorry, Mr. Morris, but I recalled an in- cident which happened on the morning when the examinations wTere to begin. I am sure it will greatly enlighten a very perplexing situation. I was speaking with Mr. I.ane in his classroom about the examination questions. I was look- ing over the paper when we began talking about another subject. Unthinkingly I had rolled the paper in question into a wad and had thrown it into the waste paper basket. Instead of fall- ing into the basket it probably rolled under Douglas Danials’ desk. Now you see it was really all my fault and Douglas is really inno- cent.” He concluded his lengthy speech in a hurry and after adjusting his spectacles upon his nose, he stared straight ahead of him fearing that at any moment the Dean would flare up in an outburst of anger. “I am glad you have come to me about this matter, professor, for it gives to the gridiron a good player and to the medical world an en- thusiastic young doctor. You may go now. but in the future please think about what you are doing.” With a sigh of relief Mr. Morris sent the office boy to find Douglas. Douglas was over- joyed to hear that he had been cleared and re- fused to bring charges against jealous “Pretty” for telling his abominable falsehood. The football season came to a close after a glorious round of victories for Renault’s Med- ical Academy. The young captain, Douglas Danials, was given a great ovation for carrying Renault’s to victory. After a hard struggle he had at last reached his goal. CHAPTER V (Conclusion) In a cheery office on the main street of the little town of Sandy Nook, sat a medical look- ing young man. His strong slender fingers toyed with a pencil while his eyes rested dream- ily upon a gilt edged sign which hung from the window. “Doctor Douglas Danials,” was the inscription. Douglas had realized his father’s wish. He had been in his office for a whole year and his business was prospering; for the villagers had taken a liking for this robust young man who helped to ease their pains. Douglas’s heart was in his work and many a good deed had he done for those who couldn’t pay him his due. He was keeping his father as a model and was do- ing what he thought his father would have done had he lived. Once every year a solitary figure wends its way up Sycamore Hill to the tiny grave at its top. Each year this same figure silently stands at the foot of the two graves, side by side be- neath a weeping willow and, as the sun bids the world adieu, drops upon his knees and whispers to the sighing wind and the calm heav- ens, Dad, Dad! If you were but here to enjoy my success which you hoped and prayed for and which I have at last realized!” But the sighing of the gentle breeze is his only answer—and a calmness—a great peace, in his soul. For, to Douglas, the two graves are very dear: they hold what no heart can forget—the truest and most beloved mother and father that anyone could have. Rose Braviak, June ’30. THE BATTLE Outside raged a wicked storm, As if at battle with the world, it raged, Its missiles were the pelting drops and hail, Its cannon’s roar. The thunder. The black and angry Night commanded All elements in his fury. His sharp spear, lightning, perilously he threw. The Monarch, Wind, revengeful in his power Drove his soldier clouds before him, Unrelenting. They too, were maddened with a warlike spirit. And heartless, sped upon their errands. The myriad stars, Were helpless. Imprisoned by some soldier clouds; They clamoured for the Moon, their leader. But he was not there. But soon, A messenger, a comet, from the Moon Was sent to cheer the stars. Commander Night, Kept up his cruel and savage play Upon the unresisting Earth. And then, The Moon, courageous leader of the stars, Broke through The line of cowardly soldier clouds, Who fled before him. The beaten Wind uttered a furious howl And sped away. Commander Night Became extremely still. Triumphantly, the Moon and stars, Protectors of the Earth, Shone down. All was serene. Again. Dorothy Krouse, June ’29 PAGE THIRTEEN