Clifton High School - Rotunda Yearbook (Clifton, NJ)

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THE REFLECTOR was OW l+ , TDS Yagi, CO W COLLEGE -il' WINTHROP PHILLIPS II, a new student at Kings- , ton, glared at the antique, brownstone building he was approaching and thought of the splendor of '53 - Pemberton University, which he had so recently left. L, Why, they wouldn't use a place like this for a tool ff shed back in the regal surroundings of the New Jersey school. So this was Old South ! To hear Dad talk you'd think that it was the White House! Another thing was the way these Mid-Western students dressed! ,lust before he passed through the plate glass doors into the Registrar's office, he cast an appraising glance at his fashionable tan topcoat, brown suit, white shoes, and dark brown hat perched at the pre- cise Pemberton angle. Back east he may have been just one of a type, but out here his clothes made him feel as though he had on a formal outfit while in the middle of a cornfield. Evidently old corduroy trousers, sweaters, preferably as discordant in color scheme as possible, and a dilapi- dated sheep-skin coat represented the height of fashion. A few minutes later he was formally signed up as a student. He felt as though he were signing his own death warrant as he endorsed a receipt for his payment of the matriculation fee and for incidentals. I say, my good fellow, could you inform me as to the location of Perry Hall? Holt Meade grinned good naturedly at Phillips and offered to walk over with him. Perhaps he might learn where this evidently out-of-place student came from, and why he chose a cow college like Kingston in- stead of the Eastern school he had formerly attended. Nine

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THE REFLECTOR VW In It was in the form of a medieval castle. There were the walls, draw- bridges, towers. A mounted knight stood without, demanding entrance. Gothic windows, arcades, balustrades-all were faithfully reproduced. Only one feature belied its authenticity. This was a wide slit, large enough to receive a silver dollar, which ran in the crevice between two peaked roofs. She held in her hand the bank of a child of a departed age, but she also held a splendid work of art. She shook it, and it rattled. It was an imaginative girl in a lonely attic who heard the rattling of coins inside. She turned it upside down and shook it. Much noise, but nothing came out. Again she shook it, and again and again, but each time in vain. Setting it aside, she finished the last box. Then she returned to the castle. She shook it, rattled it, knocked it, but the coins slid into the roof on the one side or the other of the slit. She kept up her efforts until finally a quarter slid out, as if reluctantly. The shaking became more vigorous than ever. Suddenly a familiar call shrilly ricocheted up the stairs. Dinner. The girl started, and then hesitated for a moment. The setting sun shone in the grimy window and threw patches of light on wall and floor. She had but a short time to decide. She gazed at it musingly. Then, with a faint shrug, she placed the bank upon the floor. Quietly and carefully she stepped upon it. There was a crunching sound, as something crumbled. Eagerly the girl scattered the fragments of the fairy castle, then, more slowly, from among the ruins she picked up-seven little copper pennies. GORDON Ross SMITH, June 1935. Song of Spring Fleecy white clouds mounted high, Lazily drifting. Watching them, I close my eyes, And with a little sigh Send my thoughts soaring high and wide, Drawing phantom kingdoms in the sky. Church bells pealing forth their sweet melodies, Daisies blooming thickly In a nearby field, Song birds singing sweetly To the azure sky. The breeze bends the slender blades of grass, Golden sunshine plays On newly budded trees, Willows bend over the laughing, rippling brook. In Spring the whole world seems created just for love. CAROLYN LEIBACH, February 193 S. Eight

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THE REFLECTOR W' Ill .... and the Memorial stadium cost several million .... new Chem buildings .... transfered because of finances .... D so prattled the new companion of Holt's. Instead of becoming bored as one usually does when another boasts of past experiences and surroundings, Meade proved an open-mouthed listener. He had seen pictures and heard fabulous tales of Eastern colleges, but this was his first contact with a genuine student of one of the Big Fourv. Besides, this fellow was a darn interesting talker, even if the sub- ject was himself. By the time they reached Perry Hall the two were Holt and Phil to each other. After seeing his new acquaintance properly installed in the dorm room, Meade proceeded to show him around the spacious but scan- tily developed campus. The book store, engineering labs, and a half-dozen other buildings passed in quick and careless review. They halted at a huge fieldstone building with a beautiful blue-grey slate roof. This, so Holt stated, was his frat house, the newest and most luxurious building on the campus. Pemberton had no fraternities, and therefore Phil was impartial as to frat relations except in a professional sort of way, for he was now studying to be an architect. His Dad had decided that a mere B. A. degree was not worth the money being expended in regard to its future use- fulness. Upon viewing the dinky stadium, Phil blandly spoke of a million dollar team, coach, and of the fact that he had been one of the players on last year's squad. For several weeks he moped around when not studying or attending classes. He knew but three or four students better than a nod or brief hello. On the first day of the third week the coach issued a general call for all football candidates. While on his way from Physics, his eight o'clock class, Phil met Holt on the 42nd Street and Broadway of the campus, the spot where the walks from the men's and women's dorms and from the lab and recitation buildings met at a War Memorial Fountain. Holt was leaning rather sleepily against a Civil War drummer boy, which, oblivious to the student's friendly attitude, was grimly lunging forward, perhaps to beat out a tattoo on Holt's blond head. Hi! Pledge, he mumbled quite indistinctly and equally fuzzy, mwhere to and if so, why? Perry,,' was the brief and haughty answer. It was now Meade's turn to be talkative. Pal, I remembered that you said you played on the football team back at Pemberton, so I gave you a break and handed your name in to the coach early this morning. Our house is going to initiate you at the next meeting, and we haven't had a man on the squad for the last three years. Ten