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

Page 7 text:

SILVER STREAM We were the snows that blankered the hills, And lay in greying patches, endless days, Until the sun broke through our crusty glaze And sent us down the slope in sparkling rills. ... We cut a silver ribbon through the soil In zigzag fashion, trying to delay Encounter with the twigs that barred the way, We swirled about the stones in troubled coil. Sometimes our eager current was upset By stubborn clods of earth, and in despair We fled in frenzied whirlpools here and there, Until a larger, clearer stream we met. Through Hood and drought, and over fertile Through tangled weed and over beds of clay We held the trail. Until this joyous day- We happily go down to meet the sea! lea Fmncer Colm l 'l--li C.il,Il'Ia'l..ld

Page 6 text:

A MESSAGE FROM THE SKIPPER MR. WILLIAM A. CLARKE S The Clipper boldly puts out to sea on this latest voyage, our thoughts are with her young crew. This ship's company is our's in a truer sense than any earlier group. They have mastered the seaman's art among us. They have trod no other deck than that which bears them now. They have climbed no other rigging than that which tempts them in these moments of fare- well to mount above the swelling canvas for a last glimpse of the shore or a searching gaze that vainly seeks to pierce the horizon to the lands beyond. They have known no other masters than those who have manned THE CLIPPER before them, those who launched the bark and kept it so steadily true to its course. With the impatience and the courage of youth, they are eager to greet the open sea. Not even the tempests that may lie in store hold any fear for them. In their mind's eye, they already see their goal. They count the days and the hours that still are between them and the realms of their hearts' desire. Withal there is a note of sadness mixed with their joy. They know that the end of this voyage means their parting from those comrades who have shared their hours of work and play. May they be comforted with the thought that they bear with them the heartfelt good wishes of those left behind. May hap- piness await them in their port of dreams! William A. Clarke Ll-1'n-aE- CLiIl'l'l....l4

Page 8 text:

iii? OH! MY HAT! I BY RUTH MARCUS I 0 2 , . O C l'...ii. HE sun is shining, the sky is beautiful, life is wonderful . . . and then it happens. A little burst of wind, rollicking gaily along, sneaks up from behind you, and somehow or other, despite your guaranteed-wind-resisting hat pin and the elastic band meant for just such emergencies, manages neatly to creep in between these contrivances and, without further ado, dis- lodges your chapeau from its moorings. Frantically y-ou clutch the cursed bit of headgear and mutter imprecations against the beastly wind, which immediately ceases once it has accomplished its diabolical task. Alas! Your contortions and hectic efforts were of no avail-up she goes and over the fence! I doubt if there is any other feeling equal to that horrible con- fusion which overcomes you, as you slowly feel your dignity ebb, leaving you stranded and foolish, denouncing all creation, and won- dering just what the next move should be. Swallowing your mortifi- cation, you kneel on the pavement and thrust an arm through the bars of the fence, having deposited your books in a neat pile on the ground beside you. And again, alas! Your history book, which was on top, has slipped off, and opened up, and your precious papers, scores of 'em, are flying gaily down the street, without ever pausing for so much as a by-your-leave. Gustily you sigh, and resignedly resume the operations for re- covery, and after a few futile attempts, you finally succeed in rescu- ing the blamed hat. With another sigh, this time of relief, you rise from your ignominious position, preparatory to replacing the truant, when you are assailed by the appalling probability of its blowing off again. You are consequently seen walking home several minutes later, hat in hand, having persuaded yourself that your coiffure has achieved the proper wind-blown aspect, and you really do like the feel of the wind blowing through your hair anyway. 67'lilE- lL..ll'l'l-l-4