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

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I d l Foreword HE tide of financial disability swept over many high schools this term, and carried away school publications. Magazines and papers of high standing were discontinued. The Argus has survived! The wholehearted cooperation of the faculty and the students has made it possible for our maga- zine to appear. However, our depleted resources have made it necessary to again combine the Argus and the Annals in one volume. WVe still feel that the purpose of the Argus and the Annals differ: that the Argus is designed to promote creative writing, and the Annals to give the seniors a last treasure to carry away with them. With these aims in mind, we have had two distinct staffs cooperate in bringing forth this volume. This issue represents one of the oldest student activities we have here at Hunter. Only the Athletic Association was founded before it. The General Organization came into being at the same time as the Argus in 1914. Since that time the school has grown. At its side, ever gaining in quality of content and appearance, the Argus has reflected that growth. lt has become the mirror of the literary ability of the student body. lt has become an integral part of our life at school. Let us strive to keep it so. Phyllis Schwartz. five

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A Swiss Chalet by Virginia Paulsen ose As our chalet was a good five miles wn the mountain, and it was getting rather rk, my friend and I bade goodfbye to our mpanions and started for home. All went l I . , . . 1 o PAY of strenuous skiing was drawing to a O . . . a 3 ell until I hit ice I lost complete control of y skis and the next minute I was lying flat ith half of one ski gone, no batons, and a rribly aching wrist. Far below I saw my iiend skiing absolutely unaware of my mis- althy yells could reach her. 71' 1 Fortunately about fifty feet away I saw a chalet. In ten minutes I was knocking at a small wooden door. It was opened by an old farmer who, seeing my broken ski and the remains of frightened tears, beckoned me to take off my skis and enter. I did so and found myself in a quaint picturesque kitchen. I sat on a small three legged stool in front of a big stone fire- place in which a merry fire was burning. Cver the fire was a big copper pot hanging from a chain. Something that smelt good was cooking in it. Beside me was a small stack of firewood, evidently brought in for the night's use. Above the chimney, I saw a shelf upon which different colored plates of rare beauty rested. Scattered among them were various steins. My interest in these things had turned my attention to the opposite side of the room. An adorable cuckoo clock probably made by the farmer himself faced me. The old man was in one corner of the room to the side of me churning butter. The churner was of unpolished light wood not unlike other bowls, dippers, spoons, etc., which were on the table next to the Swiss. The friendly peasant seeing that I had 'thawed out' walked across the room and motioned for me to follow. I'Ie lit two small lanterns and set one on the shelf among plates and the other in a darling casement window. These lit up a part of the room which I had noticed before. There was a long wooden table almost the length of the room itself. Around this were many three legged stools. To the left was a cupboard extending halfway down from six