East High School - Orient Yearbook (Rochester, NY)

Page 17 text:

He lay there thinking of the days gone by, Of friends whom he would never see again. He wondered where his former mates had gone. And how they had fared in the affairs of men. For on their final graduation day, The last time they had gathered as a class. lie knew their ways would never meet again, No more together happy days they’d pass. For each would choose a different walk in life. So far and wide his class would scattered he, Some would succeed, lie knew, and some might fail. Yet all would be remembered lovingly. The care-free days of school-time now had fled. They had gone—had vanished from his sight'— Yet he would always sing for old Fast High, And cluer with vim, the purple and the white! Clairf. Leon if. Haas. De Conversion ob Peta Johnson OLE Peta Johnson war one ob de good ole men ob dc community. He libed all alone in de ole house down on de corner, whar ole Squire Perkins hung hisself. All de odder niggas in Musquash Holler wouldent go near de ole house at night, for de world, hut dat didn’t hover Peta. He didn’t take no stock in such fings. De people of Masquash Holler had neber seen Peta’s wife. Peta said dat she had died oh wearen life preservers. Dat disgusted Peta wiv every- fing. lie wouldent hab his life surcd on dis bery account. In ovver ways, Peta war an odd ole chick. He didn't take no stock in men’s looken into the future by tryen to predict de wedder. He used to bet wiv his friend, Parson Simon Jcnkcns. dat dc wedder would be jus de opposite ob what de wedder man said He almos’ always won, an he came out ob each bet wiv moc faifth in his own convictions den when he went in. In fact, Peta war bery peculia. But de funny fing about it war dat he war peculia only by spells. When he war most peculia, dcre war no getten long wiv him, and den all de good people oh Musquash Holler let him be, an’ jes felt bad for him. It war Parson Simon Jenkin’s opinion flat Peta had been hatched in de rong time ob dc moon, cause Peta mos’ always had his bad spells on de awful bad dark nights, when de moon dassent show

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Class Poem The fading sun was sinking in the west; The brook was gliding over mossy stones, And passing through a quaint and quiet dell. It murmured to the trees in dulcet tones. To this sequestered glade where ran the brook, There came a man with careworn mien and eye. And wishing to forget the weary world. He sank down on the green sward with a sigh. It seemed to him that he was back again. At the dear school where boyhood days were spent. Plodding along, his books upon bis arm. Up the broad walk, and through the door be went. Then quickly passing through the long, broad ball. He came to his familiar study door, And friends of old looked up as he came in. To welcome him with greetings as of yore. Rut soon there came the clanging warning gong, And tardy ones ran panting through the hall. That they might reach their study room in time To answer when their teacher roll would call. Then swift to the Assembly Hall they passed, And there they heard announcements for the day , Also a sincere, earnest talk, and then, With nod and smile dismissed, they went their way. Rut not before a thousand voices rang, In loud praise to their Alma Mater dear— Who does not know that song l eloved by all! Who will not sing it ever loud and clear? To study room and class room new they came. He shuddered as he sat down, for he knew That he must answer, ‘•Unprepared” today To problems mastered only by the few. Tints passed the day, from class to class he went. Until at noon the hell called all to lunch. Then what a rushing, running, surging crowd Sped down the stairs to get a bite to munch! The luncheon done, he went hack to his class, But all too soon the happy day was o’er. The bell rang loud and laughing hoys and girls. Dismissed, ran down the hall and through the door. He, then, awoke and found ‘twas all a dream. And lie was lying in the grassy glade. The brook still murmured to the nodding trees. Rut blinking stars peeped through the dusky shade.

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hissclf. It war a long time befoe dat part ob do question war satisfactarily settled, luit like all great trufths, it war bound to come out sooner or later, an’ sure miff it did. Wiv all bis pecularrites, Peta war a kind ole sole. In fact, dat he war a bery good man for a niggar, ebery one cenceded. lie war one ob de deacons ob de churcb. Dat’s what made him so good. Almos’ ebery Sunday he invited some ob de congregation «town to dinna. Dem war good dinnas dat Uncle Peta had too, roast chicken and duck, dat Peta said he raised hisself. Eberybody liked to come down to Peta’s house den. But it war Peta’s generrossity dat led to his undoing, an’ subsequent convention, an' de scandal ob de community. It happened in dis way: It war free or four nights before Tanksgiven. De moon war round an’ full, an’ Uncle Peta war mad. He stood in his dorway an’ looked up at Parson Simon Jenkin’s house, a little way up on de hill. “Golly! I wish I could turn dat moon out,” he fought to hisself. An’ jus as Peta war wishing de hardest, de moon did begin to go out! For a few minutes, he war too ’sprised even to fink. At last, de trufth began to come to him. It war goon out jus for him! He went into de house an’ got a big bag, an’ as soon as de moon war all turned out, be went up towards Parson Jenkin’s. Wonder if de Parson’s got a padlock on de turkey house,” he thought. He kept oil till he got up to Simon's. It war all dark an’ still, an’ he went straight for de turkeys. It took Uncle Peta’s ole rheumatic legs a quite a while to get de turkeys, wivout making any noise. He had jus' got free nice big cues, an’ he war jus’ chuckling to hisself about how de parson would enjoy his own turkeys Tanksgiven day at Peta’s house, when what should Peta hear hut a big kackling down among his own chickens. He grabbed his free turkeys, an’ started for borne as fast as bis ole legs could carry him, wiv de turkeys squatting as loud as dey could squak. He did not notice, when lie came out, dat de moon war waking up again an sbowen hisself. He bad got alxwt half way down de hill when he saw someone coming toward him from de opposite d’rection, wiv a half dozen squaking chickens in bis bands. Uncle Peta war neber madder in bis life. He ran right for de man, an’ de man ran for him. De moon war getten brighter ebery minute, an’ by its light Peta recognized bis ole friend, Parson Jenkins. At de same time Simon knew Peta. De two stopped an’ glared at each odder. “Yo’ ole brack skinflink,” l egan Simon, “drop dem turkeys or I’ll bah yo’ excoinuikated from de church.” Shut yo’ yaup, vo’ fief.” snarled Peta, “wliare yo’ git dem chickens?” Yo drop dem turkeys or I’ll lick yo’ shore,” veiled de parson. I’ll make yo’ big mouf all pudden sauce if yo’ say annodder word,” yelled Peta back to him, shaking wiv unholy rage. But by dis time all de people ob Masquash Holler bad wakened up, an were comen to see what de trouble war about. Dere war no ’scape for ever Peta or Simon. It war de parson’s wit dat saved dem. Breverin an’ sistern, ’ he began, an’ at dc well known accents, de place war as still as do all were in de meetin house on Sunday tnornin. Breverin an’ sistern, 1 bah found de ebil spirit in de soul ob our good friend, Peta Johnson. Peta Johnson war born in an eclipse ob dc moon. Tonight am his birfth night. Yo’ hah all seen de eclipse tonight. When by bressed Providence 1 found him wi my turkeys, he war so olx-rcome, dat he gib me dees chickens in return. On Tanksgiven day, we will all meet at Deacon Peta Johnson's, an’ gib fanks to de I.ord dat Peta has got rid ob his debbil, an’ for de turkeys.” I. Post. '07.