Eastern High School - Echo Yearbook (Baltimore, MD)

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iz .-ef The EASTERN ECI-iogaw -4 I must ask my people. VVe will decide tonight at our fire. Tell them how much money you will make and how happy you will be in the city. Then they will let you come with me. Here is some money. Give it to them tonight. I will return tomorrow, and, if they say 'yes,' you must be ready to come with me. Do you understand F Yes, yes, I understand. I shall tell them tonightf! Then, farewell until tomorrow. Farewell xc HF wk All day Fedya worked with a new song in her heart and a brighter sparkle in her eyes. All day she thought with delight of the oys which awaited her in Budapest. After what seemed an intermin- able length of time, the evening meal was over, the animals were watered, and the children put to bed in the gay wagons of the caravan. Finally the folk gathered around their huge fire, which threw grotesque and flickering shadows among the trees of the grove. Loudly they called for Michel and his violing breathlessly they listened while he drew toned beauty from the seemingly inanimate strings. Again a clamoring, this time for Fedya and her winged feet! As she finished her saraband, instead of seeking the step of her father's Wagon, she faced her people. Glancing iirst at Michel and then at the ruddy faces on which the Hames of the fire caused fantastic shapes to form, she began, Today a man came from Budapest to see me. He asked me to come to the city and dance for the people there. He said I would receive much money. He gave me this to give to you. In the city I will earn money for scarlet gowns, bracelets, and earrings, and I shall be able to send many things to you. The man will come tomorrow for his answer. Please, oh, please, let me go! She saw the elders glance quickly at one an- other , she saw the parents signal their sons and daughters to retireg she saw her father dismiss her to her bed. The elders would decide. As she passed Michel she saw the look of pleading and sadness in his eyes. Slowly she turned her head and entered the wagon, the only home she had ever known. lk an wk For what seemed endless years, she tossed on her pallet, waiting for her mother to bring her the results of the conference. Suddenly from beneath the window of the wagon, she heard softly the strains of Where My Caravan Has Rested. It was Michel's way of telling her that she would go to the city. It was his way of saying that a pat- teran would wait to show her the way to him if she should ever need it. ik lk Pk The next day, the agent came again and left joyfully in the company of Fedya, who bade a gay farewell to her friends and kinsnien. Shower- ing them with promises of good fortune and wealth, she departed with their blessings. The last thing she heard as she left the abode of her fathers was the plaintive tone of a violin as it told her to follow the Romany patteranf' Pkvkflf In Budapest Fedya lived with the other dancers of Mr. Goldbaum's theatre. It was lots of fun working and playing together, but Fedya longed for the out-of-doors and the open air. There was no time for that. All day she must dance,-in the morning, rehearsalsg in the afternoon and even- ing, performances. The performances were her delight. Then it was that the great theatre was dimmed and became a sea of appreciative faces in place of row upon row of inanimate chairs. The stage was a miniature gypsy camp. There were two tiddlers, a guitar, and some singers for Fedya to dance to. Her skirts were voluminous hoops of scarlet, purple, and yellowg her arms gleamed with the Hashings of gold bands, from her ears dangled huge rings, and in her hand she held a tambourine which accentuated her every movement with its jangling sound. Then she could dance as she pleased-she could burn with all the fire of a Hungarian dance or drift lazily to the strains of a Viennese waltz 5 she could whirl in the passion of a Spanish love song or glide gracefully to a chant of the peasants. VVhen she finished, there would be a storm of applause, and gold and flowers would rain down upon her. It was at night after she had gone to her bed that the feeling of loneliness would creep over her. She missed the friendly rustling of the trees and the sleepy twitter of the birds outside her window. She missed the deep blackness of a summer night, with the stars seeming like cold and distant diamonds. She missed the sight of the moon as it cast its beams upon the ripples of some river. She missed the gay, light hearted ways of her people, and the treble sound of the children's chattering voices. The city was not as friendly as she had expected it to be. True, she made money and could buy whatever she wished in the way of finery, but one could not buy love and friend- ship. Most of all she missed Michel and his com- panionship. She missed the tones of his violin. It was after a night spent in such a manner, tossing on the bed and thinking of the gypsy life, ...Ei 14 tg...

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7' rl The EASTERN ECI-IOl5+-M if Follow the Romany Patteran By Jean Dockhorn, '33 Follow the Romany patteran East where the silence brood.: By a purple wave on an opal beach In tlzc hush of the M alrim woods. o SANG Michel's violin. As he reached the end of the gypsies' song, he maneuvered skillfully into a blood stirring dance of his native Hun- gary. The notes rose and fell on the mellow even- ing air and mingled harmoniously with the call of the birds in the trees. From the group of listeners gathered on the wagon steps and around the camp- fire, a figure detatched itself, stood poised for a moment, and then threw itself into the tempo of the music. It whirledg it dipped, it was the wind, and then it was the lightning, again, the moonlight Hitting through the leaves of the trees. Michel's face glowed with happiness as he bent his body to the will of his instrument, his eyes glued with affection upon the gracefully moving figure. VVhen the music ended with a defiant chord, the figure Hung itself to the ground, exhausted. The Bo- hemian faces around the fire expressed great ad- miration, but they were used to this performance, for F edya danced for them every evening. Again Michel drew his bow across the strings, and this time a song of his people vibrated the sounding board, The folk around the fire joined in the song, and soon the little woods on the outskirts of the great Budapest resounded with their gay and care- free voices. Here, as everywhere, the gypsy caravan, al- though an accustomed sight, had attracted a sma'l group of spectators. Among them was an agent sent out by the great theatrical producer, Gold- baum, and ever watchful he was for some new form of diversion for the fickle public. As Feclya finished her dance, he made a note on the back of the inevitable envelope and left the small grove. Skikfk The gypsies were astir early the 11ext morning. There was always much to be done in the way of obtaining food and sometimes long trips had to be made in order to secure this necessity. F edya, too, was awake with the birds as it was her duty to amuse the children and look after them until their morning meal was ready. Gaily she hummed as she went about her tasks, stopping now and then to kiss the black head of one of the babies or to execute a little dance step. And why shouldn't she be happy? Was not this her spring? Wouldn't she choose her mate before they went into winter quarters again? Was there any reason why she shouldn't be happy? Yes, there was, but she did not know it, nor did any of her people as they guided the tall, well dressed man to the wagon of F edya, the dancer. As she bid him usarazanl' or welcome, she wondered what had brought him to her. He spoke then, in a low, well-modulated voice. You dance, Fedya ? Yes, sir, I make an attempt to amuse my people at our fires. You dance very well, Fedya. You have been born with a gift for dancing. Would you like to dance in the great cities before many people? You would receive much money and be able to buy many earrings, bracelets, and red gowns. You would like that ? All the while he was speaking, Fedya's eyes were growing wide with wonder and delight as she saw unfolded before them visions of splendor and wealth. I should like it very much, but would you really want us ? Us, whom do you mean ? Why, Michel, of course. He plays for me to dance. He makes wonderful music on his violin. He makes the wind and the rain, the lightning and the thunder, the birds and the flowers, the sun and the moon. He makes very beautiful music. Yes, yes, I know that, but we have other vio- linists in the city. We do not need him. The city is big and there are many people who would pay much money to see you dance. There would be a great orchestra with many musicians to play for you to dance. You would have lovely costumes, scarlet, green, purple, with much gold jewelry. You would make much money and be able to buy many things for your people. Wouldn't you like that ? Oh, that would be grand! But I should miss my people. You would soon learn to do without them and there are many people in the city. Would you not like to come for a little while ? 13 E..-

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tt M-+SfThe EASTERN ECI-1013-M 21 followed by a few hours of unrestful sleep, in which she heard Michelis Violin calling to her, 'E'aer the wild 'world over, lass, t Ever the trail held true, Over the world and under the world And back at the last to you ! that Fedya awoke in a particularly bad humor. Before the rehearsal Mr. Goldbaum called her into his office and informed her that she was to do a Spanish dance, in Spanish costume, in place of one of her gypsy numbers. V ainly she told him that she had been brought up in the gypsies' way of dancing and could no more wield the castanets than she could a bass drum. Immovable he stood as the rock of Gibraltar as he said that they would try it at the rehearsal. Sullenly Fedya went through her regular rou- tine of dances. As it neared the time for her to perform her fandango, she burned with such rage as she had never felt before. She heard the cue for her entrance, and mechanically she danced onto the stage, her arms waving grotesquely above her head as she tried to accustom herself to the new management of the unwieldy castanets. As she reached the center of the stage, she tripped because of the unaccustomed tightness of her skirt. She fell forward and sprawled her length quite awkwardly upon the floor. The spectators in the wings and Mr. Goldbaum roared with laughter at her clumsy performance. Instantly she sprang to her feetg quickly she snatched the comb from her hair and the castanets from her fingersg furiously she dashed them to the floor and stamped upon them. Storming up and down the stage, she cried in a voice fired by her Latin temperament every exclamation she had ever heard in all her years of wandering. Concluding her outbreak, Sacre dios! she cried, I am finished! I will go back to my people -back where I can do what I want. You--you are all-all pigs! I despise you and your city! Good- bye! F ranctically she rushed from the stage and made her way to her room 5 hurriedly she threw her gypsy clothes into a bundle with some money and jewelryg quickly she made her way to the street, and headed for the open country. All about her was freedom, the clear blue of a cloudless June sky, the warbles of a hundred birds as they expressed their opinions of the weather, the gently nodding heads of the flowers as they gave their approval to Mother Nature. When finally she reached the little grove where her caravan had often paused, she changed into her carefree gypsy clothes and looked about for some token to tell her how far in advance of her the caravan was. As she glanced down at the spot where their campfire had been, she saw a patteran, a dried bunch of Howers, lying on the ground. She picked it up and, as she did so, she saw a piece of paper in its midst which said May 20. It was then june 21, and Fedya knew her people wished to cross the border into Austria by the first of July. If she hurried along the trail they intended to take, without many or long stops, she would be able to catch up with the caravan and Michel. Eagerly she turned her footsteps toward the west and the sinking sun. Stopping only to snatch as little sleep as necessary, she journeyed westward. Food was plentiful as she had quite an amount of money left from her adventure in the theatre in Budapest. Sometimes if she did not think she had gone fa-r enough during the day, she would follow her lonely trail under the light of the shimmering stars. Sometimes she would find an- other patteran which would give her new hope fContinued on Page 1102 To Billy Qlnspired by a little boy of sevenj By EVENDEN DALEY, '33 H e's a mighty fine little fellow W'-ith at 'mop of sandy hair And beneath it eyes of azure, PVhich shine with radiance rare. Eager they seem as they search me To take in all I can give- A scrap of knowledge 'bout engines, Sycamore balls, and siefaesf' Quest-ions unrnlnzbered he asks nfte. ll hat do you like best to eat? A-re you waiting for old Saint Nicholas? W' hat makes the sunfs great heat? W' hy doesn't it snow in summer? U How does the cotton plant grow? Why do they paint all the barns red ? All this and more would he know. Yet in spite of all his questioning, lfVhicl1 some folks say annoys, I'1n glad to know that Billy Is just like other boys. -.sf 15 yt.-