Evening High School - Owl Yearbook (Baltimore, MD)

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A Remarkable Student THE OWL One of the most interesting characters now attending night school is Mr. Alfred A. Kirk. There are many of us who still aspire to the musical achievements which he already possesses. However, perhaps, unlike Mr. Kirk, we did not start soon enough. At the age of eight years he began to study music seriously in Pennsylvania, where he received all of his elementary education. Later he came to Baltimore and continued his progress in music at the Peabody Institute and there received two scholarships- one in piano and one in composition. He has also studied voice, violin and baritone horn and plays the pipe organ at the Reform Church which he attends. Since the age of twelve years he has been giving lessons in voice, violin and composition. He now teaches in Hamilton where he lives in a five-room bungalow containing two studios. Mr. Kirk's chief interest is in concert piano work. Many of us will recall the fine exhibition of his skill at the last Assemble here in the Auditorium. A lover of music, he naturally is fond of Operas and considers Carmen his favorite Grand Opera and The Tales of Hoffman his favorite Comic one. He admires the American composer, MacDowell, and the French composer, Debussy, Strange to say, one of his greatest ambitions is to play the piano for one full hour without a single mistake. Even artists have their difficulties. Music does not comprise all of Mr. Kirk's abilities. About the age of ten, he began writing poetry. Several of his poems have been published in THB OWL. The majority of his later poems relate to the War, in which he served in the 313th Infantry. He now belongs to the Fifth Regiment. Mr. Kirk has chosen for a hobby the collection of furniture and art objects, including grand pianos, me' lodeons, violins, etc. As a pastime he has produced a fair amount of work in water colors and oils. Mr. Kirk was born at Mechanic's Valley, Marylandg spent most of his life in Pennsylvania, has traveled to France and Italy, and if he ever travels again, he expects to return to France. The fine culture of the French people greatly appeals to him. This is his fifth year at City College, where he is working for an Academic diploma. He hopes to graduate next year. A seemingly queer remark he made was that he has given up trying to speak the Ba1timorean Language. He claims it is very much different from the English he has learned. Of course, Mr. Kirk likes to read, and he especially enjoys plays and books of travel. Rudyard Kipling holds the place as his favorite author. As he parts from City for the summer, he is looking forward to spending many delightful hours swimming and canoeing. Like most of the rest of us, he likes to come to night school, but just now has a touch of Spring Fever and is glad the end of May is near at hand. The Ship of Learning Oh, there are so many ships sailing along the sea of learn' ing at our Evening High School and so many, many mid- shipmen, members on board, anxiously awaiting their arrival at the port of success, there to receive their com- mission after completing their cruise in Academic, Com' mercial or General waters. Our ship, though its crew be modern, is very old, dating away back to ioo B.C. Three nights of every week the captain and his crew board this boat and spend 45 most pleasant minutes reading, and discussing Caesar's own writings in Latin and translating them into English. Some' times we meet with a squall and then, at other times, we run straight into a high sea storm, but with the worthy personage of Prof. Mills as our captain and a crew of about zo, fthe majority of which can take or at least try not to fear the storm and the others, well-they just hide themq selves below deck until the storm is overj, we intend to conquer all of these storms and steer safely into our port by the end of our term as midshipmen should on the good ship Latin II. True, when we first boarded this ship way back in September we wondered just how our captain would be in the discharge of his duties-whether he would steer us safely or whether we would lose time finding our way back from the wrong course, whether it would be a pleasant trip or not-oh! so many whethers came but they have disappeared almost like magic entirely from our view. So far it has been a most pleasant voyage and I am sure it shall continue so. And so to our Captain Found loyal and true The Latin II Midshipmen Take their hats off to you. Your hours spent with us During your reign this year Have not been wasted Have no fear. Come on, class, one and all and continue your cruise with your able captain this year. And here may I breathe a fond hope that we who intend to return for Cicero and Virgil may be privileged to have him for our captain for those two years. A Latin Il Cruiser. Fifty

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THE OWL The monthly luncheon at the New Howard Hotel March 13, 1935 READING Ctocicwisiz Coursinnj: Dot Walling Myrtle Richards B Robinson Alvin Doddson Margaret Warfield Henry Clay Edwin Brown Grace Burgess john Hornick Rose Ellen Hagan john McCormick Dolly Dunham Charlie Harrison Loretta Schlingman Bunny Hare Alma fStarj Costen Anita Yocum Dot Baker READING COLYNTER'CLOCKWISE QINSIDED: Harry Westerman Earl Arington Catherine Ruth Margaret Schultz Frank Fistek Mary Dressel Forty nine Mary Healy Dorothy Peterson Hap Cronhardt Mabel Timherman L'Betty Longest Charlie Dorn CA'Schlingy D Betty Lampe Margaret Lee Smith Louise Schlee Sarah Alice Boyle Pierce Ereck Katherine Sykes Margie Preisinger Cbiggles No IQ Edna Shorko fGiggles No aj Sophia Scheer Margaret Waitkus Catherine Fries john Mitchell Valzlad Milasek Bill Bremer

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THE OWL Of An Indifference By N. PARR KING Pete Brown's third hand roadster of four wheezing cylinders and two flapping mudguards crawled rebelliously along a strip of moon drenched concrete. Pete, himself, hunched over the steering wheel and drove with all the grim' ness and determination his eighteen year old nature could arouse. Beside him sat an equally determined but pouting girl. She strove vigor' ously for dignity, her firm chin high in the air and eyes staring straight into space with such severeness that they scarcely seemed to blink. For some time they rode in utter silence delibf erately ignoring each other. Presently the boy screwed up his face until it resembled fallen bakers dough. So it's final, he bellowed above the noise of the groaning car. You're not going to marry me, eh? The girl wagged a small curly head and turned her palms upward in despair. I told you I couldn't marry you just now. Why? the boy demanded, his voice heavy and curt. Because l Because? What kind of an excuse is that? I don't know, just because, the girl replied slightly indifferent. Pete studied her for a moment. You don't care enough that's it. You're totally indifferent as to what we do and I think it's mean of you. It's not that, Pete, it's just that we're so young and haven't seen life yet. I think we should go around and experience things before settling down. ' Suddenly the car went no further. It pranced backwards and forwards like a bucking horse. Pete drew the emergency break and the machine settled quietly. He turned toward her. L'Look here, Nancy Hayden, we've been going around together for ages. Either we get mar' ried or we don't get married. We'1l settle it here and now, once and for all. He brought down his fist as though striking a table top. Nancy remained pensively silent. Well, barked the boy, irritation carving deeper lines in his face. You stop shouting at me, Pete Brown, Nancy fired back suddenly. Who's going to stop my shouting? he roared savagely quite close to her sweet oval face. If you don't like it go on and get out! He flung open the door. Guess you think I want to sit by like a white rabbit until you find some Park Avenue boy or be satisfied to marry you F iftyfone when you get ready. Bah, what a cad l With the suddenness of a spring released, she was kneeling on the seat clutching his throat with one hand and bringing the palm of her other against his beardless cheek. Her eyes flashed like blue steel in the sunlight. You take that back, Pete, or I'll dig the eyes right from your head. It was nothing for him to overpower her. In a second he had her wiggling and helpless. You get out of here, he snarled between tightly closed teeth, throwing her hands from him as though they were contaminated. Nancy's expression deepened. You'll be sorry for this, she said slowly as though in warning. Someday we'll meet again and I'll hurt you so that you'll not be able to stand it. She slid out of the car and stood aside waiting for him to drive off. He stared coldly at her, his eyes almost hidden beneath the drawn brows. It's typical of you, he said, his lips drawn so tightly that they were mere vivid white lines. It's just like you to want to crush people to the last bit. He set the car in motion. If we ever meet again rest assured thatl will be on my guard. With this he released the brakes of the car and rattled around the slow curve. For some time he motored along trying to think sensibly but his brain refused to function, he was conscious of a strange emptiness within his heart. Suddenly he sat rigidly straight. He turned the car around abruptly and with all possible speed started back to where he left Nancy. His eyes scoured the wayside peering intently at the approach 'of each figure. None of them, however, was Nancy's. Hopefully he cruised an even distance in either direction from where she had been standing when he left her but after a weary search returned home. Two days later Pete drove into a junk yard and after a few minutes bargaining walked out with a hundred dollars in his pocket. He purchased an eighty dollar motion picture camera, paying twenty dollars down and promising to dissolve the balance in monthly payments. More money was spent for Elms and for clothing. Packing is newly acquired assets in an old valise, which had long lost its color from wear, he left the vicinity without a word to anyone. It was his intention to seek a place on a passenger liner but he had to be satisfied with the next best thing. One hot misty evening he was on the deck of a tramp steamer when the boat slipped