Easthampton High School - Echo Yearbook (Easthampton, MA)

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On snowy curtains And sparkling windowsg Or watch a butterfly so gay Light a moment, and fly awayg Did you ever see Simple things as these, And feel as though your heart would burst With love of Life and God? Irene Johnston, '36 MANHATTAN MIXUP This story was written to show that anything can happen in a big and noisy city like New York. Marie, lay out my things. I am going to a party, early tonight. Oni, oui, mademoisellef' Marie was not her name at all, but Julia Morris. She was of a light com- plexion and had soft and wavy black hair. When she was hired by Miss Harwyck, it was understood that she would take on a French accent. Event- ually, Julia Morris became Marie. The more French accent her speech had, the better Miss Harwyck liked it. Marie prepared her mistress's clothes carefully. When she had finished that, she went about her other duties. As she did them she thought how fortunate Miss Harwyck was, and wished herself in her mistress's position. Little did she think what would happen that evening. The hour drew near for Miss Harwyck's departure. She called for Marie as she surveyed her tall, slim figure in the long mirror. Marie, I'ni afraid I'll be delayed. The clasp on my wrap is loose. I want you to fix it. I'll need it in an hour. Dui, oui, mademoiselle, said Julia, as she obediently took the beautiful cloak away. Julia knew that she would never be able to bend the little clasp without breaking it, so she took it to Mrs. Trent, the housekeeper, who was an expert at those things. The housekeeper smiled as Julia presented her problem. Mrs. Trent adjusted the tiny clasp with her capable hands, and gave it back to Julia, still smiling and saying, I'll bet you'd look just grand in one o'those shimmering things. Just try it on and le'me see. But Julia whispered protestingly, I d0n't dare or that sneaky butler might find out and tell. I'll lose my job and then what will f do? Oh come Julia, what harm will it do to the old cape anyway? So Julia put it on quite unwillingly fastening the diamond clasp. But do take that maid's cap offf' said Mrs. Trent persuasively, Umaids' caps and evening wraps just don't go at all. seventeen

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crete! The guard, like all those chosen for this duty, was young, and appeared to be of fine calibre, both physically and mentally. We did not go directly to the Tomb, but kept on to the rear of the building and entered the great Amphitheatre just beyond the Tomb. The first impression received, on seeing this open-air theatre, was one of surprise, for we did not believe that such an arrangement of pure white marble was possible. Absolute- ly everything in the Amphitheatre was white in color, from the benches to the rostrum. With the blue vault of the heavens for a ceiling and the sun as a means of light, it was an unsurpassable vision of beauty. Passing down the aisles we came to the front of the Amphitheatre and mounted the rostrum. As we stood there, the guide told us that many not- able men had spoken there. When we read the powerful, yet simple, address made there by President Harding, we can easily understand how the man was inspired to say what he did. Undoubtedly, tl1e wonderful impression given by the Amphitheatre is due to the successful combination in its architecture of man's best works with those of nature. By passing through a doorway, at the rear of the rostrum, we suddenly found ourselves in the Tomb itself. A description of the Tomb seems pitifully inadequate, for one cannot describe that which makes the Tomb, the hallowed building that it is. There are no intricate engravings on the simple Walls, nor are there any elaborate decorations, at all, within these walls. In the center of the floor, however, is a spot, marked in the marble, which symbolizes the last resting place of the Unknown Soldier. There are inscriptions on the walls, in various languages, praising the virtues of the Unknown Soldier and all are beautifully phrased. It is probably here, in the calm, quiet peace of this simple Tomb, that we receive the great lesson of the whole trip, here in this great memorial erected in the memory of the unknown dead of the Great War. Seven million dead in all, the flower of the World's manhood are commemorated by this memorial. Surely there is no more appropriate way of paying homage to these noble men, than to take the torch from their hands and follow the ideal, for which they gave their lives. Let us, the youth of America, strive more successfully than they did, to attain a true brotherhood of man, and leave, on passing, a world free from War. Franklin R. Mullaly, '36 ON LIVING Did you ever look At a lovely tree, Or a babbling brook Or a buzzing bee, Did you ever see a sunbeam play sixteen

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Julia grimaced but took it off. Just then the bell sounded for her and at the same time her mistress's voice called, Marie, come here! Julia knew well that Miss Harwyek had already dismissed and hired a number of servants for no reason at all. All the way up to her mistress's room she pulled, tugged, squeezed, and all but tore at the soft and luxurious cape, but to no avail. She was at the door already. H Oh well, I might as well get it over with, she thought as she was about to 'urn the knob. H Is that you, Marie? inquired her mistress. Oni, mademoiselle. C'est moi, answered Julia breaiing heavily. Never mind then, Marie, because I found what I wanted. You may return to your work. Julia heaved a sigh of relief and turned away, almost running. She was going back to Mrs. Trent, she would take the wrap off without any trouble. But in the hallway, she was stopped by a young man who said, t'Ah, Miss Harwyek, I'm from the News. l've been waiting a long time to interview you, continued he, taking her hand and leading her out of the house. f'You don't mind, I'm sure. The taxi's waiting, outsidef, t'But I-, protested Julia. I understand, he said, interrupting her. 'LI just want you to answer a few questions. Why do you always avoid newspapermen? Why do you always cover your face when the cameraman comes along? he fairly dragged her into the cab. But-, and Julia knew this young man was hopeless. What kind of reporter was he if he didn't let people talk? He jabbered on. You know, we're really not bad fellows when you get to know us, etc., etc. f'Please-, stammered Julia. Now then Miss Harwyck, what do you want me to put in the paper? asked the young reporter. But, that's what I wanted to tell you all this time, she said drawing the long cape aside and revealing her maid's uniform. I am not Miss Harwyck. I'1n only her maid. As the stupefied reporter sank back into his seat, the taxi-driver said, his voice none too gentle, Sixteen dollars, sir! Phyllis Moryto, '37 BROTHER I have a little brother, Who loves to play with me And how I can stand him is More than I can see. Y eighteen