Ipswich High School - Tiger Yearbook (Ipswich, MA)

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their eyes dilated and sparkling in happiness, gazed upon him and talked of his future and of their joy in him. Nadnek did not under- stand America nor did his wife. They were enough for each other. It didn’t matter where they were, and so it happened that Nadnek paid his ten cents and got in the car of the roller coaster. The cars were packed and the baby cooed in delight while his mother and father leaned forward and peered over the sides of the car in ecstacy. The car sw ept up the steep slope ; then with a crashing of iron on iron it was thundering down, a slur — scream- ing — and a dizzy sensation of fall- ing, falling, falling; again the jerk- ing and crashing and the two, Nad- nek and his wife, their breath held in suspense, clasped their son in their arms for the final dash. Nad- nek was thinking of their momen- tous joy and that he must leave them tomorrow. He would not see his son for six months, and his wife . . . The car stopped. Nadnek helped his wife from the car and then stepped from it him- self. “Nadnek!” His wife fell in a crumpled heap, her face twisted in agony. Nadnek knew now. His son was dead. Their last moment of happiness had killed him. The swift wind that had left them gasp- ing for breath had taken the child’s and his cold little body seemed frozen in his father’s arms. — Winifred Austin. LIFE There are many puzzles in this world and many mysteries. Of these mysteries one is the central and foremost. It is the great un- answered question of the world. “What and why is life ?” This is a problem which poets and sages have discussed and argued but never answered. Of this great subject we have in our knowledge a few facts which may or may not throw light upon it. We know that we come into this world by a means which neither science nor religion can explain. This is done wholly independently of our own wishes. We know that when we are born we have before us a great scope of action, an oppor- tunity for good or evil limited only by ourselves. We know that on the threshold of life, each, knowingly or unknowingly, willingly or un- willingly, takes the path of his life which will finally lead him to the grave after a period of years. Some measure life no better than in that manner. We know that life is never satisfactory, never fulfilling the promises of youth, and we are moved to ask in plaintive tones, “Were we made only for this?” And finally we know that we dis- appear from this earth in as strange and unaccountable a manner as we came into it. In fact, the more we think we know, the less we really do know of it. In contemplating the limitless scope of life, one who has the abil- ity to weigh and judge ideas clearly must take one of two viewpoints. He may be rational and use com- mon-sense, accepting his own limi- tations and failings, deciding that this is the best possible world after all, concluding that life as he sees it is an established fact, an incon- trovertible fact, and that he might 17

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it free of dirt and dust. The grass is greener and more sparklingly green. The leaves and boughs hold themselves in a gayer attitude. The sun shines with a new luster and the air holds a new promise in its scent. All the earth seems glad, happy, and carefree after a shower, and we dull mortals plod along and drudge along as before, noticing nothing, wilfully losing our best chance for happiness and beauty. — Ralph Ladd. TO A STAR Oh little star so far away, Where do you stay day by day? Where does your tiny twinkling light Stay when it is no longer night ? When dark clouds cover skies of blue Tell me, star, just where are you? I’d like to be a star so bright That twinkles through the long, dark night And help to guard the wanderer home From fields afar where he must roam. Who lights your little light so bright To cheer us through the lonely night? I wish I were the same as you To live in all the sky of blue. Ages and ages there, you’ve shown Up there so high in your heavenly home. Would you not like to come to see My home on earth which shelters me ? — Evelyn Comeau. DEATH White mist on the shoreline Rolling away, To show the somber forest, Across the bay. Just as when Death comes, and The white mysteries of life, Rolling away, Show that there’s a shoreline Across that bay. — W. A. Grover. NADNEK It was a perfectly glorious day. The beach was thronged with peo- ple. The blue waves curled up and rolled in, white and foaming. Dot- ted here and there were colored beach chairs with lolling sleepers in them, their unread newspapers flapping in the breeze. It was Nadneks’ holiday. He and his little Italian wife were going to enjoy themselves as much as pos- sible because tomorrow Nadnek was going far from his little wife, but today . . . He looked down at her now as he stood beside her as she gazed rapturously out to sea. Her dusky cheeks were delicately flushed with excitement, and the nulse in her throat beat quickly. His heart contracted in fright. ! Thank God she was his, but how j soon before he’d see her again. His arms tightened, he lowered his head, and a happy smile crossed his face. His son. and what a son he would be! His wife turned, and ' i Nadnek. happy and eav, took her arm, and with the child held tightly to his breast began his fun. He pushed through the milling mob and saw all there was to be seen, — the sideshows, the merry-go- round, and at length exhausted [ they sat down on a shady bench, and Nadnek opened the lunch his wife had packed. The child lay asleep and Nadnek and his wife, 16

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as well make the best he can of it, not troubling himself much about where and what life came from and to where and to what it will go. For this point of view he has as evi- dence his senses, seeing, hearing, etc., and his logical, reasoning- brain. As to the other point of view, the religious, poetic attitude, one may believe that this material world and life are merely secondary, that the human spirit comes from and re- turns to an infinitely greater and better place than this, that in each heart there is something of the God- like and changeless, and that man has unlimited power over himself. For this side he has as evidence im- agination and a certain part of our being, an elusive, misunderstood quality called a soul. In other words, man may sensibly accept his inevitable limitations or stupendously play the fool and de- clare that he is at will omnipotent in life. To support the first alter- native he has a finite organism which has often been proved er- roneous; for the other an infinite, immaterial quality which has never been proved to exist at all. One places his trust in what he thinks he sees ; the other in what he knows he doesn’t see. Of course, these ob- servations apply only to those who do cut away from convention and think for themselves. Accepting the first premise, the present becomes of superlative im- portance, the main object of life be- ing to enjoy it at the moment. Most people accept the pursuit of happi- ness as the ultimate occupation, though probably they wouldn’t if someone hadn’t told them to. It is a selfish theory that one should have as good a time as possible in life , but though sometimes discred- itable, selfishness is a necessary ele- ment in the world. The mass of people, although professing to be religious, unconsciously follow this doctrine. Proceeding on the second basis of thought, one enters the realm of faith. Admitting the existence of superhuman worlds before and af- ter death, one has before him the relation of life to these. Is it great- est or least? The poet utterly re- fuses to accept anything less attrac- tive than this world and so makes our life a mere interlude, a strange interlude, between unlimit- edly higher existences where all mysteries are made clear. With this admission comes the idea of divid- ing after-existence. Heaven and hell were probably first invented by priests for their own ends. Yet be- cause of the superstition of human nature and because it worked, this idea has become deeply rooted in the world. Because this existence is full of trials, it is logical to sup- pose that this whole life is a trial, a preparation for something else. But how can we know what consti- tutes success in this trial ? Material advantages vanish at the grave. Morals and customs varv in differ- ent times and places. These facts lead one to think that man invents his God rather than that God in- vents mankind. Yet the very being and existence of man seems to in- dicate something greater than him- self. some first great uncaused prin- ciple which for lack of a better name we call God. It is an observed fact that the world gives to mankind in propor- tion to what it receives. Man gets what he deserves in the long run. Tt is logical to reason that at death the human soul, spirit, identity, or whatever one may choose to call 18