Hewitt School - Venturer Yearbook (New York, NY)

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T lair Too Will Parr If thereis one thing I like itis examinations. If there's one thing I hate it's long vacations. To sit at my desk and study all night Is to me much better than some Turkish delight. Whenever there looms a weekend ahead I wish, wish to myself there was school instead. On Monday morn I rush to the door Thrilled with the thought of work in store. One of the things I like the best Is a teacher who springs a test. My spirits soar when I have to go Up to the blackboard to show what I know. I never talk in classes at all Which proves I'm always on the ball . . . fMy feet feel queer, where are my shoes? I must be getting the springtime blueslj -Rosita Sarnoff Class VIII A Summer Adventure One day at camp I was walking along when I came upon a little brook. I explored it a little and found a tiny waterfall. There were small rocks up above it. Since they were so much like stepping stones I crossed it. Then I started going upstream. I heard something behind me but took no thought of it. I followed the brook a ways then turned back. There not ten feet away from me was a giant black stallion. His conformation was perfect. He was drinking from the stream. Then he lifted his head and saw me, he whirled around. His beautiful ears went back, his intelligent eyes set far apart glared at me, he showed his teeth. Looking at me once again he went back to his drinking. I felt as though I were glued to the ground. When he finished drinking he came over to me. Suddenly I remembered a lump of sugar in the back pocket of my uniform. I took it out and held it out to him. He ate it. Soon we were very good friends. -Vivian Witkind Class V 41

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-15 T0BeABv1wl n len Time I wish I were ll wandering hard, xvllllilllg the world when the Ways were hard. XVhen the heart heat quicker, And hope was young, And truth was the song on u ininstrelis tongue. Though the forests were deep and wild and clark. The lnnntsinun's arrow found its mark, And the greatest l1lllltSIl1ll.1l was king of ull. But whether in hut or kingly hull, YVith erouehing hounds hy 11 leaping hlzlze, lfieree men listened with dreauuing gaze, NVhile'niy harp sung on of love und war, Of gods und heroes who lived hefore. O, the lords of that time were mud and free, But tender were they to poetry. --limmi Mr1ffc'sic'l1 Class Yll 40

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--ki - I. fi 5 'if -L f e i -2- H ' 727- ty i r Y Vx ,5 U ff- , Lf- t al l ' A5 'ff l W if , -, f 2. -rss .L . . ,.... T e Youn And Bmw The shouts of Olel', are deafening and the loud clapping and yelling make you feel as if the world- is sitting right beside you in the bullring. The young boy in the ring is dressed in an old pair of trousers that have been handed down to him from his eldest brother. They are ragged and torn. and his shirt is splashed with mud and dirt. His hair is too long, and it whips in the slight breeze that is cooling the crowd on this hot day of August. The passes are superb, and after each one the crowd yells as loud as it can, Ole! Olelv They are standing now, throwing everything into the arena, flowers, hats, everything. Never have they seen such precision or such grace! The young boy does not look at the rushing bull now, but at the crowd. The pass takes the bull's horns so close to his body that the crowd screams, No, No! The boyis face is sad, thin, and brooding. It is an ugly but still beautiful face. It could be painted only by one as great as El Greco. The boy's body is thin and scrawny, but his awkwardness is not noticed for the beauty of his movements with the cape. Now the matador and his peons come out into the ring and take the bull away from the boy's cape. The boy runs and leaps over the barrera, but there on the other side waiting are the policemen. They catch him and start off toward the gate, for he will be put in jail for his boldness. The crowd boos the act and tosses hats and flowers down on the boy. It is not very often that a boy of such skill comes illegally into the ring. Many try but have little skill, this is one exception. He will pay for his illegal entrance in the arena by a few days in jail. The crowd now settles down to watch the rest of the light, but they will not cheer much for this matador. They are thinking of the brave boy who may someday become the world's greatest matador. -George-Ann Roberts Class IX 42