Clifton High School - Rotunda Yearbook (Clifton, NJ)

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THE REFLECTOR -1659 WSI'-7 Perhaps this incident will convince you of the bewildering aspect. While standing on the lookout porch, a friend nudged me and said: Look at that duck down there on the left. I looked and, sure enough, there was a duck. A ranger who stood near us over- heard our talk, mused, and smilingly stated: That's not a duck. What you see is two men in a rowboatf' I felt silly. The main point I wish to bring out is the color of the lakeis water. Many people have seen water in shades of blue, but Crater Lake's water is so blue that it astonishes and even arouses doubt in people who actually see it. It is absolutely an indigo blue, After this episode I felt thoughtful. I began to believe that Nature must have favored our country when she distributed scenic masterpieces. I can't believe that another country in the world possesses more beauty in landscape than America, and, if that is true, Crater Lake, the pride of Oregon, certainly adds decisively to our advantage. IIN I-LVOYSIAIOIU GERTRUDE SMITS - June '33 If I were that branch on the gay green tree, Vlfould you be this candle flame, To mar my shimmering loveliness And shrivel my needles to shame? Or would you adorn my fleeting grace, flfor Christmas is O! so brieflj As this snow, like the sparkle of Godas own smile, Or that tinsel that tempts a thief? If I were this beautiful baby doll, Would you be that grizzly bear, To growl at my gurglings .and sawdust fears, And roar, and rumble, and glare? Or would you be one of these pussy cats, With coats of the softest fur, To play with my rattle and lick my toes, And scamper, and scratch, and purr? If you were a soldier like that one there, I'd watch you parade all day, And promise to ,wait your return to me If you were called to the fray. But if that gay prince at the castle door Stayed home to defend the land, I fear I should soon be a princess, my dear, If he asked me for my hand. Thirty-two

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THE REFLECTOR 'Milt 1161.1 Flfuckis efect UCK ROGERS, her uncle said, was the most timid girl he had ever come across. Although she had gone through college, she never had anyone but herself for a companion. ' ,She had graduated from college with high honors, and now two long months of vacation lay before her. Her uncle solemnly vowed to break her of this bash- fulness before she entered upon her life career. This uncle was a newspaper editor, and, therefore, it did not take much con- centration on his part to devise a plan. He decided to send her to Europe to make a report on the tennis tournament in which Jack Butterworth was competing for the title. The biography of this young man was another duty. In this way she would meet and be forced to converse with strange people. The result would be that she would gain more confidence in herself and thus lose her excessive modesty. Tuck walked about on clouds for the next week. At last she was really going to Europe. Sport frocks and Himsy things were bought. Instructions from her uncle occu- pied the time when shopping wasnit going on. Suddenly she found herself alone on the boat. Her uncle rushed off with cheering words just in time before the plank was pulled in. Panic seized her heart. What if she failed! The re orts must be secured, the P Y must bel, Tears sprang into her eyes, but she waved bravely at her uncle, who was shouting Mgood-byew and crushing people's toes in his excitement. Slowly the great ship, now seemingly helpless, was pushed out into the river by comparatively slow and small tugboats and turned toward the ocean. Tuck, leaning against the railing, had never felt more lonesome in her life. A great desire to jump overboard and swim ashore took possession of her, but she thought better of it. Didn't she have one of her best dresses on? Slowly the machines began to work, the ship glided down the river. Now she had started she had to stay. Finally she went to her cabin to unpack. The Howers thoughtfully sent by the family and her uncle filled the room with a sweet odor. But oh, if only Jack Butterworth were not alive. But alas, the immortal gods did not favor her as they had favored Caesar. Mr. Butterworth was just as much alive as Pompey had been dead. He was constantly on her mind. How could she get his genealogy and the other required things? She couldn't just go up to him and say, 'Tm Tuck Rogers, and I want you to tell me all about yourselff' It just wasn't done. Upon rceiving her table in the dining room, she found that Mr. Butterworth was seated at the other end of the dining room. A frightened feeling at the pit of her stomach spoiled the entire evening. She spent the days wandering about the ship. There were so many passages that she did not know which one to take. She often visited the gymnasium on the upper deck. It was glorious to stand on the top deck and watch the foaming white waves dash over the bow as the ship dove down to meet them. The whales swim- ming close to the ship were another attraction. Thirty-three