Gwynns Falls Junior High School - Gwynnonia Yearbook (Baltimore, MD)

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12 GWYNNONIA june 1931 !'Wirh such good men as Vudy Rallee and Bill Osborne in our ranks, it is well enough, but why should us he-men of the yodeling world be thrust aside in our attempt to gain honors, by these Hne- singing street cleaners. Thus spake Gordon. A great ovation greeted the finish of these Words, And, continued the lividly enraged Poore boy, the leader of this group is none other than the handsome, young, erstwhile world-famous ten- or, Francis Buckingham! A murmur went through the crowd. Enraged cries and confused exclamations lingered. Then Sidney Berlin sprang up from his seat and, given permission to speak, said: Bucking- ham, dashing as he is, not only is a rebel to you, fellow crooners, but he has the iron nerve to teach Herbert Newberry how to play basketball. From the latest reports I have received, he plans to open a gymnasium to strengthen young men, and then send them to his crooning school, which he also intends to establish. That was ,enough for me. As I left, the angry shouts rang the air, and almost broke my ear- drums. I decided I had had enough for one day. My hrst day seemed over, so we headed for Father Time's lodgings. When we arrived, I explained Gardner's presence to him. I-Ie nodded approvingly and handed me a scroll. I-Ie then said, When you open this scroll, you will find the number of the room in which you and your friend shall spend the night. YOu will also find a key. Put the key in your right pocket and your mechanism will have effect on your friend, if that should be necessary. Good-night. Shade of Athelstane, whispered Ollie, t'I'm hungry! Oh, as for food, said Father Time, who must have overheard, I will send some up. After all directions had been carried out and the food was eaten, I gave a long-drawn out sigh. What would the morrow bring? I wondered. We arose early and immediately started a tour through the industrial center of the city. A small, bright-looking factory attracted our attention. In the doorway we found Abraham Slamovitz. Upon seeing Gardner, he rushed over to him joyously and began pounding him about familiarly, as had been his custom in the past. But, as we all know, Gardner surprised Abraham with a terrific upper-cut to the big toe in his left foot. Slamovitz went down for the count of 0. When he rose, I thought I should never see a face so full of amazement, incredulity, and remorse. Of course, he wanted an explana- tion. After I told him all, he came over to Gardner and offered his hand. Gardner, hard as ever, eyed him with contempt and said in a hard tone, 'iBahl Slamovitz, shrugging his shoulders, asked me to come in his factory and watch his men at work. I told him I was in a hurry and asked him to expain the nature of his works. I found that he was a rich man, having made millions on his world-famous invention, the New Special Cribbing Machine. He imitated the pro- cess he once used in the classroom. After racking his brain for many years, he invented a machine, which strange to say, no teacher could detect. Thus he is making a fortune of money, selling the Cribbing Machine to hundreds of eager students. At the City Hall, we found Paul Geisenkotter pleading with the mayor, Jesse Hann, the red- headed and red-blooded he-man of Baltimore. Paul was demanding, If you do not listen to my pleas, I shall personally establish a movement among my fellow men, six feet tall and up, to force the city to make the ceilings of public buildings and li- braries higher, so that I can increase'my civic learning and reading capacity. Reallyn. Patil stamped his feet in anger, and the floors caved in. Dismiss this uncouth, impertinent young scamp from these premises, said I-Iann, addressing his secretary, Edward Ay. When he received no response, his I-Ionor, the mayor, investigated the cause. He found Ay asleep over his private desk, with a copy of Gwynns Falls Ripples in his hand. After I-Iann had awakened him, Ay blinked his eyes uncer- tainly, and murmured, 'QWi11 the meeting come to order?,' After this humorous incident, I purchased a paper. Ir was a good paper. Doris Oberseider was the editor and Lawrence I-larding was the reportorial genius of the paper. I was busily reading the paper when I saw Frank Angier's name at the bottom of the page. Following it up, I learned that he had distinguished himself as a window washer by turning his cap inside out and smoking a cigar from the wrong end. I also read of the fame Charles Cohen had achieved. Cohen, former star soccer player, was a chemist of high order. I-Iis great masterpiece was a fluid he had made, which when taken by miniature golf fanatics, kept them from breaking their clubs in a fit of anger because they missed the second hole. Or was it the ninth? We came to a statue of a man, which was called The Thinker-,', at the next corner. Beside this gigantic mass of sculpture was Stanley Goldstein. When I asked him why he was so quiet, he an- swered, Oh, I'rn practicing for my part in my next play, entitled 'Rip Van Winkle's Long Nap'. Again we passed on, Oliver sniffing contemptu- Ously at Goldstein's silent antics.

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june 1931 GWYNNONIA 11 THE ADVENTURES CF A DREAMER By HERBERT SHUGAR EDITORIS Nom: In looking over its ma- terial the Gic1'dy Whirl', found the follow- ing story written many years ago. It seems to be the result of 4 fevered brain that has just completed its junior high school career. It was one of those cold, rainy, misty days, that I had wandered up into the attic. Here I always came to brood and dream. Here I had learned to love and to appreciate my books and pictures. Upon this eventful evening, I decided to look over all my old treasures. I had nearly finished looking over all my things when a gold-bound book caught my eye. I had never seen it before and it presented an agreeable mystery to me. With great curiosity and care I placed it in my lap. Glaring gold letters greeted me as I turned the first page. It read The Book of Lifev. I was spellbound in my ecstasy. Here was a treasure, something I had never seen or touched. With eager and trembling hands I turned the second page. The only words on this page were, You are the honored one! Immediately after reading that, I felt some paradoxical, vague feeling, as though I were leaving the attic, as though I were reeling through some inexorable force. My eyes began to take in curious objects. Then I saw numbers swimming by: 1935, 1940, 1945, 1950. Suddenly everything cleared somewhat and a lone, old figure stood before me. He announced himself thus: I am Father Timefi I shall have taken you twenty years into the future in a short time. Each year I choose someone to rake into the hidden future. You have been honored on this occasion. I will inscribe your name in this golden category. He showed me a golden book with nineteen hundred and thirty names in ir. Again the same vague feeling returned and I seemed to skim through the air. I don't know what length of time had elapsed since my vague- ness had returned, but to my astonishment, I found myself in a spacious room. About me were gigantic shelves of large books. In a corner sat the same solitary, placid figure of Father Time. He began to speak: I will make you invisible to the naked eye. You shall make a two-day visit of Baltimore. You can go through the strongest doors, unseen, and through the thickest of windows, unheard. With this instrument you shall accomplish these mir- acles. He then wrote a message on a big piece of paper. While he was writing, I saw a grim, deso- late, menacing figure pass, I knew it was the Past. Right behind came a quiet, sedate looking gen- tleman who reminded me of the Present. Be- fore I could turn my back I saw the Future: bright, glamorous, optimistic. All this was vastly entertaining. Then the old patriarch, Father Time, handed me a peculiar piece of mechanism, which I care- fully fondled and then placed in my pocket. Merely press the small button on it, he said, and you shall have that which you seek or wish. Now go, my friend, and good luck to you. I sincerely hope you find all your Old classmates. On the outside I bumped into a man who was hurrying to his home. He was somewhat jarred. He looked around and then straight at me. He scratched his head aimlessly and continued on his way. My invisible apparatus had succeeded on first effort. This was fun! Bursting with confidence, I sauntered down the hall which led to a street. Once more in the open, I took a deep breath and began walking. I had hardly walked a block, when a loud voice was heard. I ran to the spot from where it seemed to come. There I found Oliver Gardner, a red- blooded, tough hoodlum, beating up his former classmate, Sidney Rodman. Noting Sidney's ex- treme discomfort, I decided to stop the brawl. I then asked Gardner, in a timid voice, how he had amassed such terrible strength. He coyly confessed to me that he had taken daily lessons in pugilism from the famous Gruber Shipley, who, in his prime, was known as Greasy Gruber . Shipley, by the way, had burned out all his energy singing for various organizations. Gardner's boldness had so impressed me that I determined to take him along with me on my jaunt through the streets. He assented. On our way downtown we passed a theatre. To be exact it was called the Gwynnsonia Theatre. I noticed they were having as its stellar attraction, Charlotte Orem as Venus de Milo , in A Fare- well to Armsv. We passed on. The next center of our attention was a debating hall. I wished to enter, so I told Gardner to wait for me, as he could not gain admittance through. the door. I explained to him my present situation and the advantageous methods I was able to em- ploy in order to gain any entrance. Then I made myself invisible and nonchalantly falthough I had no Muradl, strolled through the door. I immediately recognized the center of a large gathering. He was none other than Gordon Poore. He had just finished singing, The Lag- a-bond Lover . He stood alone on the stage now, and began his scheduled speech. His topic, long waited for by hundreds of eager students was Abolishing Crooning by Street Cleaners as They Work.

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june 1931 GWYNNONIA 13 Wlien I had finished reading the paper, I saw Greasy Gruber Shipleyi' in person. He was practicing his singing. joel Levinson, however, appeared on the scene, and was so enraged by Greasy Gruberisn bellowing that he rushed over to 'joe Hill's Shooting Gallery , where he bought a pea shooter. With this he wounded Shipley. From latest reports, however, Greasy Gruber is doing nicely at '!Sidney Krome's Dog Hospital , where he is recuperating. At the end of the block, a Red,' mass meeting was staged under the direction of the two Bol- shevists, Sizzling Seidman and Reeling Rod- man. Come on, comrades, we shall storm the city and change everything, yells Rodman, furiously. Wait! ' commanded Sidney, don't fire until you see the white of my teethf, Gardner, who had been quiet until now, rushed over to Rodman. 'tRemember our last encounter and call your men off. Tell them the meeting is adjourned. Rodman, quivering in terror, followed Oliver's request and then returned to him. Please, Mr. Gardner, may I leavev, he asked, timidly. Bah , said the strong, silent Ollie. At first, however, I could not End Oliver. Nevertheless, I was sure he was nearby. My sup- position was justified, for Oliver Gardner himself was standing in front of a beauty parlor, talking with Anna Papa. I called him and he sadly left Anna and continued down the street with me. I left this scene very much amused at the bully- ing tactics of Oliver. We were coming to an end of our journey now. As we passed an office room in a business concern, I noticed someone with black, horn-rimmed glasses, a pencil over her ear, and a pad in her hand. Upon further scrutiny, I found her to be Eleanor Hissey, who was under disguise as a secretary. We did not leave yet, though it was growing dusky. A sad scene stayed us. Sorrel-topped George Warehime was 'standing on a soap box teaching Christmas carols to a group of unem- ployed men and women. Later a collection was taken up. The collection afterward revealed two collar buttons, a handkerchief, one cent, and a plugged nickel. I had enough. Another day of these activities and I might find Ford or Rockefeller selling ap- ples with an unemployed sign on his cap. I walked into the room where Father Time dwelt. He spoke almost immediately, Your return has been planned. You will set off right away. Everything you have seen and heard is to be a secret. You are not to say one word concerning this trip. I know you won't and that is the main reason I chose you. I trust you have enjoyed yourself. Goodbyf' On my way back to 1930, I felt no vagueness as before. All was just hazy. Suddenly I found myself back in the old attic, my starting place. At Hrst all seemed strange, but at length I regained my composure. Many nights after this have I spent in the attic wondering, brooding. Had all been a dream, or had I really experi- enced everything. I often wondered. CLASS SONG OF 1931 By NORINE OsBoN, 9A1 Our symbol of knowledge, the flag waving high, Will tell each defender that battle is nigh, A war against Ignorance, Folly, and Crime, 'Gainst the dreamers of dreams, the wasters of The knights are our students, the castle our school, Our banner the ideals we hold as our rule, And the Red and Gray pennants that stream from our spears time. Will lead us to vict-ries in on-coming years. C1-ioaus The trumpets of learning A triumph are calling, In the battle for knowledge we wage in our youth. The heralds are singing Defeat for the idlers, The fight is done, the victory's won, for fearless Truth.