Eastern High School - Punch and Judy Yearbook (Washington, DC)

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FEpruary, 19 the HA STER NER The Storm Blast e the storm plast Out of the a-howling, Out of the ow elves a-prowling, Meee f With ice Hl With snow d e, : | Gripping the eal rystalline vise. North came the storm wind a-blowing, Y North his ice flowers sowing T on window, “| Out of the ZA Out of the That eve Byer on pane; The ice flowers may bloom in the storm wind’s train. m blast a-racing, st went the stor rse a-tracing ; ii Into the Ha s white cou Z yy, Into the Bast hi And with one scully; One final flurry, Off with the storm blast the snow elves hurry. A) Out of the North came the storm wind a-blowing =| Into the East, left all the world glowing— a For glint and sparkle, Sparkle and glint, 4 Are ever the storm blas t’s bright imprint. AsenatH L. GRAVES, 295)

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Freshman Firstlings In this, our Freshman number, we have devoted a page to freshman compositions. The January, and not the February sections are given. below. HOW TO APPRECIATE MUSIC If you are going to an orchestra concert, you must know how to listen to the musie. In the first place, do not go to watch the leader “heating the air with a stick,’’ but to learn how necessary music is. All music tells a story. Shut your eyes, and if the piece is a furious one imagine that you are on a ship during a great storm. You will hear the thunder, and the waves dashing against the ship. With a soft, soothing melody, you can picture a mother putting her baby to sleep. Chopin wrote a prelude which is sometimes ealled the ‘‘Raindrop Prelude,’’ due to tne fact that while at a friend’s house rain began to fall. He sat down at the piano and imi- tated the dropping of the rain, and the sub- dued roar of the thunder. Exert your imagi- nation, but not foolishly, and you will dis- cover in music a precious jewel which you hitherto have not known. EvGene Stewart, 2101. A REAL THRILL—AND SPILL My most thrilling experience occurred night before last. The recent heavy snow has been ideal for sleigh riding. There is a very precipitous road in Benning called Ridge road. This road is where we do most of our sleigh riding. The hill is about a mile long with a sharp turn at the bottom. This turn causes all the trouble. Few sleigh rid- ers are able to make it. I started out, and in about six seconds, I was going like an arrow. It only takes about a minute and a half to get to the bottom of this hill, and when I was near the bottom I saw trouble coming. I dragged my feet, but this did not help much at the speed I was going. By and by I reached the bottom and started to make the turn, but it was im- possible. The first thing I knew I was flying Frsruary, 1925 The KASTERNER TINE ee Pace { “AsHiNGTON © Their efforts appear, head first over the snow and finally turned a somersault into an extra large snow drift.’ When I emerged from it, I looked like any ordinary snowman that children like to build. Strange to say, I wasn’t hurt very much, outside of scratching my arms and face all up and receiving two black eyes and a twisted ankle. I finally managed to hobble over to my sled and saw that the runners were broken and the guider was smashed. The next time I come down Ridge road I am going to find some soft spot when I fall off. Ricwarp SparrovueH, 2181. SOMETHING I LIKED One morning, as I was about to cross a busy traffie corner, I saw something I liked. It was a little thing, which, perhaps, was noticed by only a few others, yet I am sure that they appreciated it as I did. A little dirty, frightened poodle was try- ing to eross the street, but was afraid to cross in front of the constant stream of automo- biles. Twice he tried, but each time ran back to the sidewalk, with a little yelp. As he stood there, a little dubious about the safety of a third attempt, a small boy came up the street, ragged and forlorn, like the little dog. He picked the dog up, and, holding him in his arms, safely threaded his way in and out the swiftly moving vehicles. They parted on the opposite corner, the dog going one way and the child the other. They probably never met again. But what mattered that few people saw the little act? Kind deeds need not even be noticed, save by those who are benefited, but their value is the same. RutrH Bewu, 2061. ““It is easier to offer objections than it is to originate.’’

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Frsruary, 1925 ASENATH L. “They're coming, Henry! They’re com- ing! Lie low, for God’s sake!’’ The sibilant whisper of John Cummings, first mate of the Plymouth Town broke the stillness of the hold. “Thanks, sir,’’ came the barely perceptible answer, muffled by the thickness of the sides of one of the water casks. Slowly and outwardly composed, John walked toward the ladder that led to the deck on which the measured cadence of soldiers marching could already be heard. A sudden shadow made him look up. “Why Wedderspoon,”’ he called heartily in ferman to the sergeant whose head peering down the opened hatch had caused the dark- ening of the hold. ‘‘ What a pleasure! What do you say to a game of pinochle and a stein of beer?”’ “This is no time for beer!’’ the other an- swered. ‘‘We want that boy first. Come now, Cummings, give him up.’’ “The boy?’’ John asked in well feigned bewilderment. ‘‘The cabin boy?’’ “Nein! The Heinrich Valter,’’ the ser- geant replied, consulting his warrant. “‘He’s supposed to be trying for America, and he was last seen headed this way. Now are you going to give hin up and save yourself a long trip to prison or must I find him?’’ “Heinrich Valter?”’ the mate said perplex- edly. ‘‘No, I don’t know anyone by that name, but he may be a stowaway. You may look.’” “May look indeed!’’ Wedderspoon roared with laughter. ‘‘May look!’ He made a deep mocking bow. ‘‘I must humbly thank you, sir, for your unparalleled goodness,’’ he said; and then he added, closely watching John’s face, ‘‘ We'll start here, then! Spread out. Look behind and examine each suspici- ous cask,’’ and he set them an example by so vigorously examining the nearest one that he spilled half of its contents. The KLASTERNER In Days of Old Graves, '25 “ Sergeant!’’ the mate cried, horrified, for the water supply in 1840 was an important matter on the trip from Hamburg to New York. Wedderspoon only replied with a derisive laugh, but he contented himself with less forceful demonstrations after that. Hardly able to restrain himself, John followed him as he went up the first row of casks, drawing ever nearer to the one in which Henry was hidden. Only five casks away! Wedderspoon knocked off the top, and looked with disgust at the green water in it. Four casks away! Another top off. “Phaw! Do you drink this stuff?’’ he queried as he passed on to the next. That one he only knocked with the stock of his gun to prove its fullness. Two casks away! Again he passed by with but a rap. Surely he would open the next and then—the boy! ““Phew!’? Wedderspoon exclaimed drop- ping his gun to the floor, ‘‘warm work!”’ Lazily he seated himself on that very cask in which Henry was crouching. The mate gasped, and watched him, fasei- nated, as he called directions to his men. Had he only known that his own tasseled boots swung within two inches of his quarry! John shuddered at the thought. He must not let him suspect. “What's this Vanter—is that the name ?— done?’’ he asked. ““Valter,’’ Wedderspoon corrected. ‘‘He evaded conscription. Claims he’s English.”’ “English,’’ echoed the mate desperately fighting for control. “Yes. His mother was English and his father, who was born a German, lived in Eng- land all his life. Young Valter was born there, but he came over here to live with some kin when his parents died. He was con- seripted—first draft of his age. He tried to crawfish out of it, did everything but pay a (Continued on page 29)