Girls High School of Brooklyn - Blue and Gold Yearbook (Brooklyn, NY)

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CGNTINENTAL INCIDENT FLOW!-,'ffdi'EXENSON AWAKENING quiTe suddenly in The middle oT The nighT. I lay sTill, sTaring inTo The dark, wondering whaT had roused me. OuTside. The wind and The rain danced Turiously down The village sTreeT, and Tor a momenT, I ThoughT The sTorm had peneTraTed my consciousness. Then. Tar oTT iT seemed, I heard a low. soTT boom. I sprang Trom The bed and ran To The window. As I leaned ouT, heedless oT The weaTher, I heard iT again. The village gun! My hearT slid crazily: someThing TIuT- Tered in my ThroaT. War? I-Iere I was in a IiTTIe French Town, wiTh The German border noT one hundred and TiTTy yards away . . . ' I hurried inTo my cloThes, snaTched up my rain-cape. and darTed Trom The room. I ran down The sTairs. wondering why The old inn was so sTiIl. Had no one else heard? As I closed The ponderous door behind me, a heavy gusT blew down The sTreeT inTo my Tace, and I drew baclc. I sTood Thereg regaining my breaTh. waTching doors open Trom every house and hasTiIy+cIad peasanTs come ouT. A villager whom I recognized as M. JaIoT. English-spealcing noTary, came running down The pavemenT, and I called To him as he came up. Monsieur JaIoT! I-le peered aT me Through The darkness. You, mademoiseIle'? WhaT's happened? As I looked down. I saw wiTh Tear ThaT he carried his rifle. Is iT war? I do noT know. mademoiselle. buT we of The Saar are always pre- pared nowadays. ' I IcepT pace wiTh him as we wenT down The sTreeT. our heads benT againsT The driving, gusTy rain. In Tive minuTes we were aT The border guard-house. where a IiTTle group of peasanTs, some armed. sTood siIenTIy in The rain, Their shoulders hunched againsT The eIemenTs. They4waiTed sToIidIy Tor an expIanaTion oT The gun signal. buT I, wiTh True American THE BLUE AND GCLD Page Four

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CONTENTS LITERARY CONTEST AWARDS - - - FICTION CONTINENTAL INCIDENT WHEN THE TIME COMES DUNCE ----- - WAS REVENGE SWEET? - - THE MARBLE HAND - - - GODSPEED - - - CAUGHT ---- SEVEN YEARS OLD - SCARS ---- FUZZY ----- - MURDER IN THE LOFT - - SENIORS POETRY ALL MINE ---- - SONG TO LAKE ILMEN - - BIBLICAL IRONY - - NIGHT COMMUNION - - DEDICATION - - - CONTRAST - - - ILLUSION ----- THE SEASON CHANGES - - A PRAYER ---- - IDEALS ---- FAITH ---- THE FIRE ---- THE MORNING FOG - RAIN ----- IN THE OPEN - - NYMPI-I - - A FRIEND . - DIFFERENCE - RETURN - - - PEACE ---- sI-IADOWS - - - VOLKOVA'S LULLABY SLEEP ----- SMALL TOWN - ESSAYS TIT FOR TAT - - BACK TO EARTH - - - - GESUNDHEIT ----- - BARBER SHOP ----- - WHEN I WRITE A NOVEL ON SAILING THROUGH LIFE - - TREASURE ----- - COLLEGE ------ - OUR CONTRIBUTORS REVIEWS - - Florence Sfevenson - Ediih Schreiber - Rufh Benneif -A - Virginia Wolfenberger Judifh Kohan - - Cecily Fink - - - Edna Berlin - - Lillian Rivesman Shirley Meiselman - Mariorie Blausfein - Rufh Benneff - Marie Vuolo - Judirh Kohan - Ediih Schreiber Mafilda Szigefy Anifa Berenbach - EcIi+H Schreiber - - Edifh Schreiber - Marie Vuolo - Esiher Simon - Esrher Simon - Esfher Simon - Esfelle Salzman Mildred Gansberg - Mildred Gansberg - Esfelle Salzman - Mildred Gansberg - Mildred Mulholland Esrher Simon - - Florence Sfevenson Mildred Mulholland Mildred Gansberg - Judifh Kohan - - Marie Vuolo - - Mildred Mulholland Doroihy Cohen Esfelle Salzman - - Harriei Vinograde - Mariory Graff - - Mildred Finlcleman - Olive Schuman Edifh Schreiber - Anifa Berenbach - THE BLUE AND GOLD Page Three

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impaTience, hopped up and down in an agony oT exciTemenT-and Tear! IT iT were war! So many oT my moTher's Triends had been caughT in Europe in I9I4. when The greaT maelsTrom sTarTed To seeThe. The operaTor came ouT oT The liTTle guard-house and began To shouT exciTedly in French. My limiTed'knowledge oT The language enabled me To caTch only one word. ' I Killed! I cried aT M. JaIoT. Who's kiIIed? Mon Dieu! IT is Trom AusTria! I-Ie raised his voice above The wind, his Tace a picTure.oT consTernaTion. They have killed him! The IiTTIe one! DoIITuss! DoIITuss! My mind came To a shocked sTandsTiIl. A small man wiTh an aTTracTive smile: ThaT was all I could Think oT Tor a momenT. Then my numbed brain began To work again and a hundred picTures raced in TronT oT me, Germany, France, AusTria, ITaIy. yes. England. Ifoo. All These aT war perhaps, over The deaTh oT a man aT peace Trom The burden of a naTion. I The operaTor wenT back inTo The guard-house: The peasanTs broke up inTo liTTle groups. M. JaIoT and I Turned back Toward Thevillage, boTh oT us-siIenT. , Finally I asked. Did The message say who did iT? JaIoT said biTTerly. 'They' means only one Thing To us, mademoi- selle. And he suddenly gave way To a TorrenT oT words. The longesT speech I had ever heard Trom one of These silenT. hard-working village men. I-le Told me The whole hisTory oT The Saar, oT The biTTer TighT This year beTwen The French parTisans and The German supporTers over The pIebisciTe. All The way back To The inn he Talked, and I lisTened avidly. And now ThaT They have killed him. The liTTle one. we like Them less Than ever. We shall sTay French, mademoiselle-iT we can. I climbed The inn sTairs. my head in a whirl. As I enTered her room. my aunT saT up in bed. . Good heavens, CaTherine! Where have you been? You're soak- ing weT! Were you ouT? WhaT's all The exciTemenT? DollTuss has been killed, I said ThoughTTully. WhaT! Where did you hear iT? AT The border guard-house. They seT oTT The gun. I came over and saT'down on The TooT oT The bed. AunT KaTe. leT's go home. Go home? You were The one who wanTed To sTay longer. I know. buT I've changed my mind. I don'T Teel safe here, some- how. Suddenly iT's all changed. I Think l'd raTher be in my counTry. LeT's sTarT Tomorrow. will you? THE BLUE AND GOLD Page Five