Clymer High School - Clymax Yearbook (Clymer, PA)

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4 We-fee-Mc LYMAX P The Crystal Ball It was already midnight when Walter, William, and I arose from a table in the club dining-room and came down in an elevator for our hats and coats. We had spent a pleasant evening reminiscing over our old school days, and wondering what had become of our classmates. Fifteen years had elapsed since that memorable day in june when we had said our goodbyes. Our chums had scattered far and wide, and only an un- usual coincidence had brought the three of us together. Walter was now very wealthy, having made a lucky mining strike, William in spite of his stuhby mustache and graying hair was still the happy-go-lucky boy I remembered. He was now prominent in political circles-a future presidential possibility. As we left the club and strolled slowly homeward, we stopped occasionally to observe some curious shop window. For an instant we paused before a small building. We were about to pass on, when Walter attracted our attention to an advertisement, Mystic Eye, Sees All, Tells All-Past, Present, and Future. I immediately took interest. Was this not a wonderful chance to learn of our classmates? I tried to persuade my chums to enter the shop, but they laughed and finally departed saying they were too tired to take any stock in such nonsense. The room in which I found myself was small and very dark. A thick Turkish carpet covered the floor. At the far end was an ornate table. Scattered near by were brilliant cushion-like seats in place of chairs. The only occupant of the room was Mme. Zeets, the old fortune teller. She was gazing intently at a small crystal ball, The Mystic Eye. Looking up, she motioned me to a soft cushion seat. VVhen I informed her of my errand and wish, she under- stood, and pointed to the ball. Draw nearer, she commanded, and behold your wish. I glanced eagerly into the ball. As I fixed my gaze intently upon its crystal depths, I was suddenly amazed to see a large office with clerks, messenger boys, and secretaries hurrying busily here and there. While I watched, the president, VVoodrow Smith, gave some directions to his secretary, Alma Pomroy. Among the numerous helpers I recognized Leanore Duffy, Kathryn Pollock, and Chris- tina Laverick. typists. Before a large filing case stood Maragret Lezark and Gladys Short, deeply engrossed in their work. A telephone rang, and I was de- lighted to see Pearl Johnston taking an o1'der in a business-like manner. The vision was no more. The scene faded out and the glass grew cloudy. Then it brightened with an inner light. I saw a marching army. Through the waving flags, confetti, and showers of ticker tape, I glimpsed Clifford Allsopp and James Davis returning home from a successful invasion of Mars. , High above the clouds I espied a squadron of bombers, and I wasn't a bit surprised to Fmd Edward Cupples and Arthur Shank managing the controls. As this scene faded, I beheld a huge hospital. A large room slowly took definite shape. Everything was white-immaculately white. Rows of white 22 I i , e l

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4 ClYMAX+T P Farewell ! 'Tis our school chums' solemn hour-and silence now Is brooding like a gentle spirit o'er A still and pulseless world. Hark! on the winds The bell's deep tones are swelling, 'tis the knell of our depart With a melancholy light, the moonbeams rest-Q Like a pale and spotless shroud. The spirit of our ehums seems to stand- The Freshmen, Sophomores, and Juniors pass in silent array All joyous memories of the past. 'Tis a time for memory and for tears-the years have gone And with them many a glorious throng of happy dreams, Their marks are on each browg their shadow in each heart. Our parting time has come-we must leave all loving friend Time bids us come and join the caravan that moves VVith measured tread and slow Into that dim unknown-the future. E1.wooD VANDIV F ed years s behind ER, '32,

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4 - - - CLYMAX .P Cots holding muffled forms appeared. A gowned figure entered, followed closely by another, somewhat taller. It was Esther Gust and Sarabelle Gaston-always together, as had been in school, now in life. Again the mirage vanished. A large auditorium appeared. Beautifully dressed ladies with flashing jewels, and handsome gentlemen in full evening dress listened attentively. Rebecca Johnson was singing softly, ever so softly, Mary Scerbo was playing the accompaniment on her violin. Together they held the crowd spellbound. I glanced again at the audience. In the very first row I recognized Elinor Larson and Margaret Black, accompanied by strange men. No doubt they were married. When the song was finished, Manager Elwood Vandiver announced the closing number. Now it was a schoolroom. The teacher sat at her desk. She was apparently reading. I was puzzled-I could not place her. Suddenly she glanced up to behold a mischievious boy at a prank. How sad, I murmured, it's Genevieve Bagley. A large boulevard appeared. Amidst the many cars, I espied Raymond Christie driving majestically in a ten cylinder, bright yellow Stutz roadster. VVhat a change from the old model T Ford! As I continued to watch the globe, fascinated, the Europa moved slowly out from the c1'owded pier. Laughing faces, sad ones, excited faces, calm ones, watch eagerly as the ship moved slowly away. Near the rail stood Mildred St. Clair, June Widclowson, Julia Wolaniii and Sylvania Fetterman-on their way to the Peace Conference at Geneva. Yet another vision-a vaudeville theatre in the Middle West. I gazed anxiously to find the remaining members of my class. There they were: Olga Paytash, Edith Miller, and La Rue Colgan all featured in the play, School Days. I sat in a trance, as the last vision slowly melted into oblivion. I was strangely happy and jubilant. How wonderful it was to revive those old mem- ories! I felt sorry that Waltei' and Williani had missed it. Yet, should I tell them what I had seen? No, it would be useless, they would only laugh at my imagination. Yet I shall always treasure this experience as one of the happiest memories of my life. JOHN BECOSKY, '32, GEF