Clymer High School - Clymax Yearbook (Clymer, PA)

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Scholastic Jingles Oh, the teachers are a learned crowd, XVith the gift of wisdom they're endowed Dear Seniors, shall we ever reach The pinnacle from which they teach? Miss NYithers with that book by Caesar! VVe're surely sore at that old geezer, XVho wrote his history years ago, That students now should live in woe. Albegra comes in Mr. Clawson's line. lts knotty problems rock your mind, NYith its values of x and its values of y- I hope we shall get it by and by. Mr. Gramley teaches of centuries ago, And I advise that your lesson you know, For if you don't your mark goes down And you will receive a frigid frown. Biology, Miss Smith adores, She relates of creatures on ocean fioors, Of cells and plants we're unable to see, XVhich live on land, in the air, or sea. 'llhere's Miss Appleby, makes your language right For grammatical errors give her a fright, And there's nothing so sure to cause her sighs As someone forgetting to dot his i's . But after all, every teacher's a sportg Each one of them is the right sort. They're always ready to help us through, Provided we're willing our part to do. GLADYS Hlil 'Nl NN 55 73

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4: 1fficLvMAx4-Q-5+ still roared and the tree scraped against the wall. Routh tossed about for several hours before his tired body finally relaxed in a fitful sleep. About midnight he awakened from a nightmare with a start. His body was streaming with sweat. NX'ide awake, he listened tensely. The wind still howledg the tree continued its scraping. Excluding these sounds, he could hear nothing to justify his awakening. Very vaguely, he remembered hearing something say, t'There's nobody here but me and you l Ile tried to convince himself that this had been part of his dream, but in spite of himself, he could not dismiss the thought of that strange voice. At length, he again fell into a doze. Idle dreamed that someone was standing over him saying: There's nobody here but me and you! Routh awakened so abruptly that the bed creaked. lle listened, muscles tense. As before, nothing could be heard but the howling of the wind and the scraping of the tree against the wall. The man's imagination began to run riot. Once he thought a shadow flitted across the square of light on the floor. For a second, fear clutched at his heart as the bulk beside the dresser materialized into a chair instead of some sinister thing ready to spring upon him. The tree scraping against the wall seemed to chant in a monotone, There's- nobody-here-but-me-and-you. Mentally, Routh cursed himself for accepting this infernal room. He wished he could fall asleep again. Better yet, he wished dawn would break. The luminous dial on his wrist watch registered four o'clock-two hours before daybreak. After what seemed an interminable length of time, his somnolent brain again submitted to the strain. Even in sleep, he was conscious of a feeling of terror. Again that diabolical chant wakened him, There's nobody here but me and ,you l He thought somebody had him by the wrist. Trembling with fear, he turned his head furtively. The band of his watch encircled his wrist. llis face was wet: his hands shook: and his body was weak with horror. ln desperation he leaped out of bed and began dressing frantically. The tree outside still seemed to chant: ''There's-nobody-here-but-me-and- you! just as soon as I get dressed there'll be nobody here but you! Routh veritably screamed. WALTER MOLESKY, '32, 72 l

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.-,N Q 41..i-.it-CLYNQAX---19 Day Dreams The schoolroom was very bright and warm on that glorious afternoon The sun streamed through the open windows, making the red inkwell on the teacher's desk shine like glowing fire. This was what John's eyes were fixed upon so intently. It was an ugly inkwell and he knew that it was brought out only for great occasions, such as after the Six XVeeks' lloliday. He was supposed to be studying, but somehow he could not take his eyes from the large inkwell. llow brightly it shone! It seemed almost as if there was a dancing fire within, sending out from its ruby heart gleaming rays of red. Suddenly John's attention was drawn to the other corner of the desk. Ile was amazed to see a dwarfish figure step out of a blue inkwell. At once the excited boy saw that it was Uncle A. XVell, John, said Uncle A, smiling down at him, you were staring so hard at that red inkwell that I feared you might be worried. VVhat is it P VVhen John saw the kind face and heard the quiet voice, every thing around him-the schoolroom, the teacher, the boys and girls-seemed to fade away, and he found himself alone with this new delightful friend. Oh, Uncle A, he cried, I need advice. Could you please help me ? I am in every schoolroom, and I am the spirit of every report card. If anyone cares enough about me, 1 show myself to him. XVhat can I do for you, John? I was just wishing that your spirit would get on my report card. That is a big wish, but I think I'll give you some good advice. Then l'ncle A told John the many, many opportunities awaiting him, by which he might capture some of that much desired but highly elusive spirit. Gradually his voice grew farther and farther away. John had a queer, sleepy feeling that caused him to rub his eyes. XYhen he opened them again. Uncle A had disappeared, and he found himself in his seat in the warm sunny schoolroom. He sat up guiltily, realizing that he had been dreaming. YVhen John received his report card a few days later, he looked upon the sight which met his eyes, as if he would never grow tired of it. For his card, as if by magic, bore the wonderful spirit of Uncle A. JENNY MORANO, '33 74