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

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who would love him. His search continued for about three days and two nights of miserable and lonely wandering. It was deep winter and mighty cold. The neighborhood was rather well-to-do and hence the garbage pails yielded very little. He was feeling pangs of hunger by evening and was about to give up his search when, after crawling under a picket fence he caught sight of another cat. As he moved closer. he noticed that it was one of those ritzy, high-class Persians. She was sure a good looker, and boy what a tail!! Needless to say. he was taken with her good looks but was hesitant to approach her because of the differ- ence in their social stations. It was only until she started walking that Robespierre decided to throw caution to the winds and approach the young lady feat lady, of coursel. The deli- cate way in which she moved her paws and the sweet way in which sh-e twisted her body made her seem a goddess to the exploring eyes of our loveless lad. Before nearing her, h-e added a few touches to his rather battered anatomy. A few agile move- ments of his tongue got his long white whiskers in proper order and after putting his tail up in a iaunty manner he started his pilgrimage. He was a bit surprised to see that she didn't seem startled by his sudden appear- ance. Gathering his courage, he went onward. When finally he got to her, he was sure that this was really high society. She smelled to high heaven with that stuff that humans call per- fume. His plan for action was to give her the devil-may-care attitude so. lifting his paws in a martial manner. he paraded himself before her. She didn't move a Whisker. He walked past her again. No result!! Finally. in desperation. he stood before her, staring into her liquidly green eyes which glowed like emerald fire in the light of the dying day. She suddenly got up. lifted her magnificent tail, and in a kitty-like fashion, rubbed against Robespierre's scarred side. Well, today Robespierre and Gladys are happily married and have a small family of ten. It seems that Gladys was tired of fancy cats and wanted a husband who could really protect her. As I sit here now. I can see Robespierre Know more refinedl lazily stretched out before me. home for a rest from the family which he so dearly loves. .0 p 0i'g ' , I V: . 560 .- fh 5 10 . .as,1m35' ' 0 '.-'S t I 27

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KL JCCLIHJ Q PAUL USTRUVVSKI ROBESPIERRE WAS an American alley cat of the special New York City variety. Now. please do not confuse this with the plain alley cat. for then you will be doing Robespierre a gross injustice. New York alley cats have many features which do not appear in the other members of their races. First of all. the New York variety has a special scent about it which is about as exotic and rare as Chanel No. 5. In this heavenly scent. we can dis- tinguish the unbelievably sweet odor of garbage cans. Intermixed with this there are tinges of wet leaves. sewage. chicken, and many other reasonably delightful fumes. Another feature which makes these cats so different is their whole mental make-up. If you, somewhere in your journeys. have had the privilege of witnessing the crossing of a street by such a cat, you will know what I mean. However, for those poor unfor- tunates who have never had the honor. I shall try to describe this mar- velous sight. First of all, from basic or kitten training, the cat will first stand at the curb and look in both directions to see if any cars are com- ing. If. for instance, a large truck should be passing. this highly intelli- gent animal will slowly and indig- 26 nantly retire to the safety of his stoop and shoot glances of bitt-er scorn at the rude vehicle. When there are no longer any cars in sight. a slow walk will be started to the middle of the street and then will become a fast gallop until after the safety of the opposite curb is attained. For these special creatures. the con- tents of garbage pails are irresistible. No matter how well fed the animal may be, the lure of loose garbage cannot be denied. Perhaps it is sort of an adventure to see how many new things may be found. or perhaps the odor seems ambrosial to their sensitive nostrils. Now let us look into the love life and the real charm of the New York alley cat. He is urban. debonair. a veritable sophisticate. His loves are many. and, sad as it may seem. these heartless creatures are not very adapt- able to home life. They prefer the wild. adventurous. free existence and not the responsibility of a cat and kittens. It is here that our story begins. for Robespierre, unlike the other alley cats, wanted a loving wife and a family. He remembered how, when as a kitten his mother had to go robbing garbage cans to feed the family after his father had deserted them. Sad as it was. he looked everywhere for a wife but was unable to find a single feline who would take him seriously. Mary, the maltese. had given him the cold stare routine and had walked away with her tail in the air when he had proposed. He knew of no other eligible lady cats so. in desperation. he iust walked off one day to see if he could find someone in the world

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.fdcluenfure in fke ofanc! 7 of ga fin MAXINE WECHSELMAN UP UNTIL yesterday I always looked upon talking as an art, but now it seems it can also be a crime. I commit- ted this terrible crime when I was talk- ing in the lunchroom during the silence period. So this is my fate. a three hun- dred word composition on talking. I'm not trying to deny the fact that I was talking out of turn, so I guess I'd better pay the penalty. Well to begin. I'll frankly state that I'm mighty sorry I did talk then because it must have been wrong for one reason or another. I hope it was a good reason. for I would certainly dislike writing this composition in vain. Howev-er, since I am writing this composition and it is very hard for me to think of something interesting to say in three hundred words. I think I'll tell you my story. I don't think it will inter- est you, Mr. Kelly, but it may use up some words and that will help me a great deal. so here goes. Once upon a time there was a sweet. innocent little Iunior sitting peacefully at her lunch table, leisurely eating her lunch and chatting with her friends. After the allott-ed time for lunch was due to come to an end, this happy. contented. carefree Iunior and her com- rades heard the sweet. gentle voice of their favorite teacher. Mr. fkindheartedl Kelly. come over the public address system. I-Ie announced sweetly that at this time there would be no more talk- 28 ing allowed in the lunchroom until the end of the period. These girls entered this state of silence with all good in- tentions of carrying out their minds to disobey the command of such a docile man as that teacher. As time passed. each girl was tending to her own affairs and not speaking to anyone of the girls seated around her. This con- dition persisted for quite a long while until suddenly this sweet little Iunior thought of something she -considered to be a very important matter. She would only be able to get the solution at that very moment because she would not see her friend till the next day. By that time it would be too late to solve. So knowing she was doing wrong, she cast aside the warnings of her conscience and blindly. before changing her mind. she quickly whis- pered the question to her helpful girl- friend. Then she glanced around the lunchroom to see if any one had dis- covered her crime. Sure enough. there pointing at her in a very incriminating way, was the finger of a familiar, but unkind face of a teacher. The finger beckoned and the girl cowardly ad- vanced toward it. awaiting her fate. She believed the teacher would treat her harshly. perhaps even make her sweep the floor. No, no, anything but that. Not, the cage. but her pleading was useless. Slowly she advanced to- ward the cage. hearing the insinuating and sarcastic remarks as she went. So now it is done and this sad and very much happier girl has learned a timely lesson which is ' ' C R I M E DOESN'T PAY.