Clifton High School - Rotunda Yearbook (Clifton, NJ)

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THE REFLECTOR The Diamond skull WAVE like a black wall all but knocked the half-conscious man from his precarious position upon the hatch cover. For forty-eight hours he had been knocked about the restless sea, 40 burning with thirst and Weak from hunger. His steel-like grip upon the hatch cover was slowly weakening and it would not be long before he would slip unconscious into the sea. His eyes rested on a light, but Sharp Malone's swollen lips stretched into a bitter smile. He had seen lights before, but they weren't lights. They were illusions, mocking a dying man. But in the next moment Shark Malone knew that this was a real light. It was a lantern, and it was swinging. Then the light went out leaving blackness, and like the light Shark Malone slipped into blackness. His next sensation was one of softness. He was not lying on the hard, slippery hatch cover but upon a dry, soft bed. His head was full of pains. There was a roaring in his ears. His thigh throbbed and burned as though on Hre. He saw a gleam of gold. It blurred, cleared into a girl's head shining in the light of the lamp. She was sewing. Over her shoulder he could see a tall woman who suddenly swirled and van- ished. Shark Malone felt himself sinking into unconsciousness again. He was not Shark Malone, he was a boy of five, Petie Malone. His father, a half-owner of the Sword and Cutlass, a filthy waterfront saloon, had taught him how to pick pockets. At the age of five he was earning his living in this way. By the time he was twelve he was called Shark. He was cruel and brutal, and robbed lonely wayfarers in dark streets. He enjoyed life immensely, not knowing he was a brutal thief, a menace to humanity. When he needed money he would take up a station on a dark street and rob honest workmen coming home from work. The first a victim would know was a pair of steel-like hands around his neck, and then if Shark was in good humor he would strangle him within an inch of death and then rob him. More often he would squeeze until there was a sound like a pencil snapping. It was easier robbing the dead. On the night of August 27, 1664, Shark, waiting motionless in a doorway, saw an old man coming hurriedly down the dark street. He was dressed in the height of fashion and carried a gold-headed cane. As he passed Shark's hiding place Shark stepped out, but his swift hands missed their mark. The old man swung around and struck Shark with his cane. Hungry and in a dark mood, Shark caught up a cobblestone and felt the white head of the old man crunch under his blows. He struck again and again until his rage abated and his hands were covered with blood. A door behind Shark opened and light streamed out upon the scene. Shark fled. That night he left Liverpool, a marked man. He sailed on the Cassandra bound for the Barbary coast with a cargo of Shanghaid sailors. W7 ith the burning of his thigh, in his delirium, Shark relived the five 7 V. Qfy, if f Nineteen

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THE REFLECTOR Age Like the mellow light of a turned down lamp, Or the old road with its better days goneg Like an ancient tree that has become carressing to the eye, A worn doorstep-just part of the whole, Like the covered bridge over the creek, Or a garrulous bucket's smoothness, Others, and these, are age. C. WOLSTENHOLME, June 1932 Fmgility The down of a butterflyis wing, A bank of dry sand, Or a new-born babe's hand, The turn of rice paper, Touch of translucent china, Ivory carved by hand. Love is more fragile than these. C. WOLSTENHOLME, june 1932 Sunset I like to watch the sunset At the end of an autumn day, As it throws its brilliant colors across the sky. Orange turns humble homes into palaces of gold, And violet, green, and rose reflected on the clouds Seem as bits of fairy landscape. How the colors increase in strength! Then suddenly, without warning, The whole scene vanishes from view, And I sadly enter my home. MATTHEW KAISER, june 1934 Song I hear a thrush at eventide Sing his ethereal vesper hymn, Pour out his tranquil psalm at dusk ' In dark woods growing still more dim. I hear a thrush at eventide And beauty stabs my heart like pain, I linger where the shadows are To hear God speak to me again, To hear God speak to me again. VERNON GROUNDS, February 1932 Eighteen

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THE REFLECTOR years following his flight from England. He saw the Chinaman in Singa- pore who had broken his nose with a bottle, the one-eyed Frenchman he had stabbed in New Amsterdam for a bag of pearls, the big Negro who had given him the scar from nose to chin. He had been a thug, a thief, a spy, a cheater at cards, a smuggler, a pirate, a professional murderer. He had robbed in every seaport of the Old World. On the night he had been set afloat on the hatch cover he had led a mutiny on the Cairo, an English merchantman turned pirate, and he had strangled the captain to death. While the mutiny raged an- other ship came up unnoticed and poured broadside after broadside into the Cairo, until it went down with all hands. But Shark had cheated death by clinging to the hatch-cover. The strangler groaned and opened his eyes. The girl was still sitting at his bedside. She arose and came closer. How do you feel, she asked. She was English. Shark's heart pounded. England! He was wanted in England! W'here am I? he said between swollen lips. This is a small island near Cuba, came the answer. Shark relaxed and reached for his money belt. It was gone. The girl saw his movement. Your money is safe. She pointed to a shelf where the belt lay. I want itf' he growled. The girl was surprised. Then she smiled. You fear you have lost somethingf' she said. , She placed the belt on the bed. Shark examined it and found his money intact. What were these people that they did not take his money? He was sick and helpless and they hadn't touched a thing. A man and a woman appeared in the doorway, they looked sympa- thetic. The girl introduced them as her mother and father, Mr. and Mrs. John Burrows. I am Virginia Burrowsf' she added. The man smiled. 'iThe doctor will be here shortly, he told Shark. We sent for him at once. The woman held out a steaming bowl of broth. Eat this before you talk, she said. It will make you feel betterf' As Shark ate he reflected. So these were not his kind. In Shark's mind there were only two kinds of people-his kind and the lambs, or honest, hardworking people upon whom he lived. Shark and his kind despised them. They were the soft fools of a hard world. He smiled and disclosed two silver teeth in his lower jaw. As he finished the last spoonful of the broth he began his story. I am Petie Miller, a simple, honest sailor, sailing on the Freetown, with a cargo of tobacco for Amsterdam. We ran into a storm, sprang a leak, and went down with all hands. I found a hatch-cover and floated. What a terrible experience! the girl exclaimed. T nty