Hillside High School - Epoch Yearbook (Hillside, NJ)

Page 29 text:

THE PH ARU S OF NINETEEN TWENTY-FOUR Here comes the owner of Linn’s Slow Lunch, cried Doug. Karl blushed, a bright bcetlike color and embarrassedly retorted with the familiar Aw hey!” Then a brilliant thought struck him. “It pays better than being Manager of the Production Department for Colgate’s Tooth Paste.” Of course it was Doug's turn to blush but he brushed the subject aside hurriedly with, ‘‘Goodnight, the girls are late.” “Isn’t that Betty's giggle?” I asked. There was a period of laughter, greetings and noisy chatter. We learned that Betty was following in her mother’s footsteps and was becoming quite a popular politician; Mary Mac was winning Speed Contests for the Underwood Typewriter Company; Minerva and Mabel, still the two inseparables, were members of the faculty in Hillside High, the former teaching Trig.” and the latter, “Social Problems. Whitey chuckled softly and winked. Remember, in 'Pharus', our ‘We Wonder Why' column.” Everyone smiled and looked self-conscious. Whitey added whimsically, “We wonder why Nervie elected ‘Trig.’ in the first place.” Wo all laughed and grew reminiscent. A little later Joe Rosenblum, considered an authority on “Parliamentary Pro-ceedure,” since editing his book “Rosenblum's Rules of Order,” appeared on the scene accompanied by Anton, whose massive frame made us stare in awe. Tom, putting on a splendid show of bravery, cried. “We’re afraid of Anton,” and all of us answered promptly, “That’s a lot of bunk.” Anton had won the Inter-Collegiate Pugilistic Championship. We were getting ready to sit down to dinner when Lill and Paul came,—late, just for a change. Paul admitted that he was doing remarkably well in the real estate business and Betty asked, “What are you doing, Lill ?’’ I -ill's laugh rang out merrily, “I’m still doing something similar to the job I had in my Senior Year. She waited for the effect and then, slowly, “I’ve opened a Kandy Kitchen.” Janet appeared bedecked with numerous medals won in the Olympic Meets for Women. “Goodness gracious, how do you get them all?’’ questioned Mary Mac. “Fate, Fate,” mocked Joe. Accompanying Janet were Lena, Marguerite, Frances and our ever-busv Clara. Lena and Marguerite graduated from N. Y. U. last year and have been with the Guaranty Trust Company ever since. Clara told us of her experiences as Secretary to one of the big officials in the Pennsylvania Railroad System, but Frances, quiet as always, had to be coaxed into saying where she was. It was Marguerite who finally found out and made her admit, “Yes, Bristol-Myers is near at home, and it’s a mighty nice place to work in.” “But what do you do?” we questioned. “Oh I’m just Secretary to the Vice-President.” And Clara laughed Notice the ‘just,’ do you? “Where’s Miss Jones with the old Tin Liz?” someone asked. Betty sitting by the window jumped up excitedly, “Oh look! Speaking of angels, they are sure to appear!” We all rushed to see. Sure enough, there she was, and walking up the street just in back of her were Hubie, Jane and Jimmie. We discovered that Jane was teaching and that Jimmie owned the largest pharmacy in Newark. Hubie has become a very successful surgical dentist—he confessed to having been as much surprised at discovering his ability in this profession as we were. 25

Page 28 text:

THE PHARUS OF NINETEEN TWENTY-F OUR Class Prophecy It was June, June with roses, June with its happy reminiscences, June with the first sweet fragrance of summer, June with its many joyous anti lingering memories. It seemed incredible that five years had slipped by. As I stood alone, breathing the delicate perfume of many roses, I was carried back to that June night of 1924. I saw again the gray caps and gowns, I felt that warm glow around the heart and that sense of superiority anti pride that filled us all when we were handed our diplomas— the thing for which we had striven for the past four years. I came back to earth with a jolt—I would be seeing them all again within a few moments. A t|ucer little sob arose in my throat and tears of happiness welled into my eyes. It was our fifth reunion and we were all keeping our promise—though made in a moment of jest—as sacred and dear. I did not know why I had been chosen Chairman of the Committee but I felt a certain pleasure in knowing that all had responded to the idea so enthusiastically. I counted them slowly over on my fingers, recalling many humorous and tender incidents about each. True enough, George X. would be one of the missing but I had forgiven him for he was serving as Advisory Engineer to the Government of Argentina. I had saved his letter to read to the rest when they arrived. I knew, too, that we would miss Hazel’s exaggerated chatter as she was touring Spain with her husband. A peculiarly familiar whistle greeted my ears. Could it be? Yes, it was Betzie and Eddie. “Holy Mackerel! We aren’t early are we?” I turned to Fred. How’s the shoe business, Fred? And how's the ‘Hillside Daily Journal,’ Eddie? I’ve noticed your editorials. They are simply great!” Just then a blue-uniformed boy on a bicycle rode up to the door, “Western Union. I read the message slowly with a horrible feeling of disappointment, wondering if there would be any more such aggravating missives. “Will arrive at 8:45. Sorry. Can’t make it in time for dinner. Tom.” But even as I folded the telegram a shining car drew up at the door and with a peculiar sense of elation I hurried to see the old noisy bunch alighting. And there, with all the rest, was Clayton, one of the best-known mechanical engineers in the East, disguised in a “Western Union” uniform. In amazement I realized that I had failed to recognize him. “Get my message, Ed?” questioned a familiar voice. There was a gasp and a chuckle from Betzie, “Holy Christmas, you sure put one over on her that time. Murph! How does it feel to be President of the Houston Oil Company?” A moment later Babe stepped out of the car humming softly. “For Christmas Sakes, Babe, cut out the agony,” grumbled Marcel who had been singing that air for a succesful season in “George White’s Scandals.” “Why shouldn’t I sing a song of my own composition?” Babe retorted. But here Eddie ended the argument by calling out, “Quite a difference in managing a track team and a big production, eh Whitey?” As George, himself, the successful manager stepped into view. Finally, Leslie, Yale’s crack basketball coach, spied Kidlets hidden behind Doug. “Let’s see if you’ve grown any, Kidlets, since stepping into the limelight as the most prominent cartoonist in America.” Just then Karl Linn and John Kranixfield arrived. Johnnie, as you know, has achieved national repute as a landscape gardener. 24

Page 30 text:

THE PHARUS OF NINETEEN TWENTY-FOUR We waited until the last one had come before we sat down for the feast. “A toast, a toast,” murmured Eddie. We loked over toward Burnetta. “You're used to it Burnetta,” I suggested. “I’ve just been reading about your address at the annual meeting of the Federation of Women’s Clubs.” And so we laughed and joked away the minutes. It’s Marion’s turn now,” somebody said. And Marion, just as shy as when a Senior in High School, answered in her low, muscial voice, “I’ve been traveling most of the time, but it's certainly good to get back with the bunch again. Alice, do you remember the time we met each other in that tiny little curio shop in Peking?” Do I! You were the first person from home that I had seen in three months.” “Anna, you must have missed her a lot, that winter,” Gertrude exclaimed. “I certainly did.” Anna answered. “But it was my first year teaching and my dear children kept me so busy that I didn’t have time to mourn her—I was too busy grieving over myself.” “Thank goodness, I’m not teaching. I prefer keeping house,” remarked Gertrude. And so we chatted on, telling each other of ourselves. I looked about the table, saw the happy faces and felt the spirit of comradeship that existed throughout the Class. Someone suggested that we sing. Our voices rose joyfully and before we realized it dinner was over. Then we adjourned to “Ye Olde Gyme” to dance, just as in days gone by. The night was over all too soon. But we all agreed that our Reunion had been a splendid one, though indeed it had brought back a certain heartache for those school days of 1924. Unanimously we decided to meet again—One year from that night- —Edna Sherman. Last Will and Testament We. the members of the Class of 1924 of the Hillside High School, being of sound mind, and heedful of our approaching departure from this beloved school, declare this to he our last will and testament, and do hereby devise and bequeath the following first: To the faculty, our sincere appreciation for their earnest attempts to correct our erring ways and to instruct us in the fundamentals of education. Second: To the coming Senior Class, our reputation as “those terrible Seniors.” provided they maintain the standard set by us. Ihird: To Miss Stevens, the joys of being Senior Faculty Adviser with our hopes that she can suggest some means of raising money other than by candy selling. Fourth: To the Juniors, our handsomely monogrammed. rose-colored gym. bags. When in need of funds we suggest that they auction these to the highest bidder. All museums will appreciate an opportunity to buy. Fifth: To the younger generation, the places left vacant by Seniors on the various Varsity teams. We wish them the greatest success in the coming season and hope they may obtain the desired title of “county champs.” Sixth: To the Class of 1925, with the aid of the Sophs., we leave the task of attempting to induce the grim keej)er of the gym. to ] ermit dancing during the noon hour. 26