Hunter College High School - Argus Yearbook (New York, NY)

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Madonna of the Street Lamp by Ilma Schramm I STOOD by my window as the first really blue-black evening shadows began to stand out in startling relief on the buildings across the street from me. Everything was submerged in this sombre hue with the exception of one spotg the tiny circle of brilliant light which radiated from the street lamp. It is a spotlight on a stage! I thought, delighted with this fantasy. UAH we need now is an actor and we are ready for a drama. I had scarcely composed this thought before my player arrived on the scene. Out of the shadows emerged a figure clothed in dark. garments which I luckily could not see in the dusk. The light of the lamp, however, played full upon her face, I gasped! It was the face of a Madonna! For one brief instant she stood poised beneath the rays of the lamp and in that instant I saw just enough. I-Ier face was absolutely colorless in the glare. Her eyes were a dull, velvety black and seemed to be of enormous depth. I'Ier nose was straight like that of a Grecian gofldess and her lips, above a delicate chin, were a deep, mellow redi Her whole face expressed some overwhelming sorrow or martyrdom. She stopped for a fleeting second and then she was gone. I was bewildered for a moment and then glad that I had seen no more of her. For had I been able to scrutinize her at more length I might have found that her face was not so perfect as it at first seemed. I most surely would have discovered her dress to be modern and not just a black robe thrown about her. And what seems most disillusioning of all, she would, in all probability, have not possessed the spotless virtues of a Madonna. Yet this is not for me to conjecture, I should be satisfied that on to that perfect setting stepped the perfect character, and that I can add to those who people my mind the Nladonna of the street lamp. twelve

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now, the world. Thus all may see the crime of forsaking the true and hidden beauties of love for the shallow loveliness of a mirage. 'So the shamed ravens set forth on their eternal flight and their mother, weeping, followed, shedding her bitter tears be- tween her sons.' The messenger arose, wrapped his blanket about him and said to Mogui, 'Go forth, Medicine Man, and build of the finest and sweetest of woods, a Totem Pole. Choose the most skilled of the craftsmen of your tribe to depict upon the pole this tale. It shall live through the ages as a warning to the foolish'. Mogui faithfully did as he was bidden and the Totem Pole stands for all to see, the two wicked ravens fighting at its top. HDO you know the names of the ravens? said the Grand- mother to the sleepy children. One was called Thunder, the other Lightning, and the tears of the unhappy Mother, are Rain. To Someone Adventure led me by the hand Up a golden stair, And when I reached the top and turned, I found you there. Love kept me in that lonely place Ever by your side, Nor could all the Gods in Heaven Us two divide. And then that God who knows no law Came for you. And so, Though I prayed by your bed all night, I saw you go. Now, though adventure call and call, And romance shine anew, I must walk forever softly Because of you. Rita 0'Neill eleven

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I 1 In Memoriam by Alice Berge many ways but perhaps the deepest impres sion has been made by the late demise of my beloved friend Napoleon Neptune He a quiet retiring little creature had been my pet for many years-or at least for three. With soft, limpid brown eyes, and a singuarly smooth skin, he was, to me, the - epitome of beauty and affection. His ears were invisible, but this did not seem to pre- vent him from hearing me call him to dinner. He died, I am sorry to say, of an unknown affliction, most probably starvation or old age. HIS past winter has been memorable for me in I say starvation, because Nap , as I affectionately called him, did not live alone. He had, as a companion, a strong, husky old fellow, who, since he was much bigger than the late Nap, walked all over him, ate all his food, and usurped the little one's place in the sun. To all of this brutality 'ANap could only answer by hiding in his house till H0ssie -short for Qsmosis-had passed. Understanding now-when, alas, it is too late-the meek, resigned, and somewhat starved appearance of the deceased, I marvel that I had not noticed it before. We lived a gay and happy life together, we two, Each morning, on awaking, I would call--or should have-softly: 'ANa- ap! and always I would see him jerk his head. And too, when I went to feed him, he would move sluggishly over to me and then eat slowly what UOssie consented to leave him. During the winter months, he usually hibernated. This suited me since I could not be with him because of school. But during the summer. our intimacy grew by leaps and bounds. Then he and Ossie would show off in the sun, imitating a leaning tower-fwith Nap usually the basel. And if he had been exceptionally good, I would set him on the floor and let him stretch his legs, taking care, how- ever, that visiting dogs and cats were safely out of the way. Then thirteen