John Adams High School - Clipper Yearbook (Ozone Park, NY)

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began professionally, is a Spanish rapier of the 17th century-such swords the famous French musketeer faced-it is a straight two-edged flexible cutting blade with a sting which exceeds that of a bull whip. This type of guard is termed by the French pas d'ane. It is com- posed of bent prongs, which are interwoven on each other and run down on the blade for a short distance. This device was used in getting your opponent's blade entangled, a quick twist of the wrist and you succeeded in disarming him. It was through the develop- ment of this light weapon that thrusting antics of swordsmen replaced the slashing stroke which was prevalent in so many countries. By this time the sky had darkened to a sombre grey and the hour was late. I arose for one last look at some weapons in the room which I noticed the caretaker av-oided. In a small niche in a far corner I found a large black sword, which from its straight lines and basket hilt I knew to be a Scottish Claymore. One of those famous blades used by the highlanders, which appeared to have been made by a Venetian artisan whose works were popular during the end of the 16th century. Engraved on the pommel was a colored picture in enamel of a young warrior, the light of battle in his eyes. My companion seeing the object of my attention turned his head away exposing his profile to me. In the flickering light of the flam- beaux I studied the rugged features and compared them with the miniature before me. Allowing for the variation in age, which was apparent, they were identical. I replaced the weapon hastily and followed the old fellow again down the dark staircase, through the vacant banquet hall echoing with the sound of our footsteps, until we reached the castle's entrance. As he swung open the exit portals, studded with their iron bolts and bars, I noticed the massiveness of his shoulders. His mili- tary carriage became apparent as he stood back, holding open the door. There was an awkward silence as I passed across the moat and was lost to view in the fog. I paused on the dusty road and looking back saw him framed in the doorway of the dark castle his head bowed to his chest. - A sword is like life, lasting until its purpose is done, then gone, leaving only the echo. 22 l l--IE iliII'l'l1l4

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carved Caesar's vast empire. Corroded bronze weapons reminiscent of ancient Greece, which once flashed in the hands of desperately fighting gladiators in the ancient arenas of Rome, hung on their rusty hooks. My eye caught the glitter of the jewel bedecked grips and scabbards of fantastically curved Oriental scimitars with their queer Arabic sentence engraved on the blades. In a corner on a wooden peg hung a Schlager, used by German students to settle their differ- ences on the field of honor. Long and ponderous Chinese blades, resplendent with beauty in their lacquered sheaths, decorated with serpentine dragons, lent color to the scene. The old retainer, noting my look of frank admiration, walked briskly around the room after me and gathered up an armful of weapons. Bristling with the load, he stumbled over to a rough hewn table and drew one from its sheath with a chilling rasp. I leaned for- ward expecrantly as the old soldier began to speak. Look at this French rapier, he weighed it carefully in his hand, see these dents in the cup guard, each mark tells a story. Picture a rolling green meadow and two bodies of horsemen thundering towards each other. They meet in the center of the green. The im- pact unseats many, but those yet in the harness lunge and party skill- fully, face to face on the field of battle. Empty saddled horses gallop on, leaving their vanquished owners bleeding in the dust. The noise subdues gradually and the victors gallop off, many of them sore wounded, yet rejoicing in their conquest and eager for fresh ad- venture. The enthusiastic fellow picked another weapon from the pile and related its history. This, he began, is a Yataghan, a blade used by Mohammedans and Persians in their colorful desert lives. He pointed out to me skillfully worked arabesques engraved on the razor- like blade, and the glittering garnets and emeralds in the pommel of the weapon. A French soldier, he continued, imported this beautiful weapon into Europe before 1.750 as a model for sword bayonets. The design was accepted and prevailed in the armies of Europe for nearly a century. I have one of the French models. He rose and hunted the wall with his eye until he spied one, he hurried over to it and removed it from its sheath and called my attention to the inscription on the blade. Mre d'ormes de St. Etienne 1747. At this point the old fellow had quite captured my interest and I pointed out a sword which had attracted my attention. That, he 'rn-:E 1nQ.nT+n'l.n.a2I

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THEY ALSO SERVE uv MELVIN WEIN S I 's I Q Q, . e was crossing the street. There was a grinding, screeching of brakes then a dull thud: a woman's scream, the clang of a siren, two men in white lifted the unconscious boy into the ambulance and it clanged away in the night to a hospital. HOLWELL ATHLETE HURT IN ACCIDENT Injury May Cort Johnnie Thompson Ball Career To the bed-worn invalid, Johnnie Thompson, these tidings meant the end. All his life he had been actively engaged in sports of one kind or another. Now he would never again be able to run, jump, or feel the impact of one body against another. All that was gone. Oh, why did I have to cross the street? he would often mutter. :if :ze :ze :ze In March, two months after his fateful accident, Johnnie returned once more to Holwell University. The first signs of Spring were in the air. Birds were singing, flowers were beginning to bloom, and -baseball mitts and balls were being dug out of closets. To Johnnie all this preparation meant nothing. Yet when called for baseball practice, he followed the crowd down to the athletic field. They can't stop me from watching, he thought. When the diamond season started, Johnnie was on the bench with the players. There wasn't a coach. The school couldn't afford one. The captain ran things, but he was a better player than a director. True, John was not in uniform, not did he play. He wasn't a mascotg he was above that. Yet he was with the team. -I-I-as il...Il'l'gaI-423