Madison Central High School - Tychoberahn Yearbook (Madison, WI)

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Iune ..THE ORANGE AND BLACK.. 1932 POETICAL INTERLUDE Reflection . . . Should I be carried by Deaths ruthless hate Into eternity, forever lost, Would You, my clear, deplore my better fate And count the sorrows that this parting cost? Should sudden death be mine, and you sur- vlve Upon this earth-my rnem'ry to grieve- Would you long weep for him, once fresh- alive. And beg the gods his life retrieve? Or would the happy, joyful past but seem Like some forgotten book, far oE vague: With eyes and hair and visage-all a dream By and your wlt's recall? -Oh, dea.f.h's a plague What moves to dlsunlte, and all ln vain I question make where question brings me pain. -AL LLEBERMAN, l2b. Airminded . . . Oh wonder bird, whose great broad span Of flight is determined by man, I wlsh that I might be with you Up in the sky so high, so blue. My thoughts are oft up in the air Dreaming of things I'd do up there Plcturing myself as Darius Green, But using just wings, not a flying machine. I s'pose some day my dreams'll come true, 'Long about nineteen ninety two, But then lt won't be fun for me For I'll be much too old, you see. -CHARLES Duaoxs, ua. My Mother . . . I'd like to make this very clear, There's something that is very dear- My Mother. She's always there when I'n1 ln need: She's always doing some klnd deed- My Mother. She teaches me the rlght from wrong, When she's away. the time seems long- My Mother. Who wants a nicer, sweeter mother? I wouldn't trade her for another- My Mother! -MARGARET xnvrcx-1, ua. Thoughts . . . Winter has gone with its ice and snow: Gone the icy frlscos and the crystal gleam, And God's beasts and flowers begin to grow As they awaken to the sound of the rippling stream. The summer south winds play and blow Through hill and vale and city too: The violets and crocus, blue and yellow Are smiling and nodding the wide world through. -GLADENE MANWARHWG. un, Spring Fever . . . Something is calling me out in the air: Something is whispering into my earg Something is wooing me out Irom the crowdg Out of the school house and city so loud. Into the country open and free An inner urge ls driving me. My mind is drowsy and my thoughts do roam. Always taking me away from home. Away from English, Latin, and Math, Away from books and the teacher's wrath. A fish pole and bait, away to the river Is the only way to cure Spring Fever. -EDWARD GADOW. ua. Where? . . . I see a thousand people Hurrylng, scurrying, worrying, Laughing, chattering, smiling, People, from here, there, everywhere, Rushing, ..... wmza-.Ee Cars, yellow cars, blue cars, green cars. Cars, screeching, honking, balklngg Expensive cars, cheap cars. open cars, closed cars, And still the people rush ..... VVHERE? Rain-pouring-thunder crashlng, Winds howling-trees swaying, Water :lowing-clouds rolling, And still the people rush WHER.E? Cars ..... going WHERE? A Portrait of n Dry After- Dinner Speaker . . . He rlses to his feet-oh so proudly, And clears his throat ever so loudly, But apparently his nose-pinchers sllp from their place, For all of a sudden they're of? his face! But with rare dignity, he replaces them, And proceeds in his speech with a. loud Ahem ! The style of that speech we know too well, And so I scarcely need at all to tell Of how, when an hour has long passed by, He adds a joke to that speech so dry. The hearty applause he receives is generally due To everyone's relief that he's finally through. -ELEANORE ROISUM. lla. Paradise . . . In a wooded valley sloping down, Lies a. beautiful brook that I have found, I love to be upon its banks. And smile upon its many pranks. I love to watch its clmnge'ble moods As lt winds its way through the valley and woods, And hear the brook gurgle and laugh As it slips over pebbles that come in its path. As I wander by its rambling stream. It comes to me as in a dream- Thls brook, ln its rippling and babbling play, Spells Paradise ln the month of May. -MARION XAMRATH, na. 'Y Wife: Did you fix that screen, dear? Hubby: Yeah! I fixed it. -Igg-

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1932 ..TI-IE ORANGE AND BLACK.. June A CORPSE I By Jane Farwell HE WEARY STRANGER, dusty and haggard from his long journey, paused for a moment to look over the moun- tain ledge into the country below him. 1-Ie was impressed by the very loneliness of the picture he saw, because, exceot for two build- ings-a cabin and a distant house, there were no other signs of life in the timber or the rocks. The young man sighed and tumed his horse back to the trail. There was no story down there from what he could see: he was just beginning to think that these Ken- tucky mountalns held about as many thrills as hE backyard at home. Well, he'd better make it to that cabin-the one he had just seen--before dark: for both he and the horse were fatigued. The latter whinnled joyfully when they finally reached the shack after having slowly descended the perilous trail from the ledge. The young man dismounted and knocked on the door. No answer. He knozked again. After what seemed an eter- nity a knarled old hand carefully pulled open the door and a hard, bronzed wizened face immerged from the crack. What he saw ap- pnrently did not alarm him, so he stepped out into the open. Welcome, strangahf' he said in a queer, hollow voice, I hone you'll pawdon ma strange goin's on. I'm not used ta havin' a visituh in these puwts, suh. had been satisfied, After the horse's needs the two men went inside: and while they ate their meal. they became My name ls James stranger. 'Tm a writer friends, Conrad, said up from the lo:king for a. story, W'hat's your name, Simms-Tom Simms, the only man in this 'ere pawt of tha country, so it's ta see a stranguh, mister. Conrad showed his surprise. But, Simms. he said, I saw a little house about live miles from here. Doesn't anyone live there? The other man's face was a shade paler as he answered hoarsely, N'uthin' but spiuhtsf' SpLrits? Yup, a man 'as bin dead in that house yonduh, fo' two yeahs, and in tha mountains thar's a sayin' that if a man isn't laid under the earth when he's dead, ghosts 'ill haunt the plate he is. But being a neighbor, why didn't you bury him yourself? said the writer in aston- ishment. Walk I reckon Pd bettuh tell you all the whole tale, said the ancient mountalneer. so he tiaped back on his stool and told this story: 3 Sam Clover was the name of the man who lived in the little house, and the Simms fam- ily had been the feudal enemy of the Clover family for almost three-quarters of a cen- tury. Finally there were only the two left- Sam Clover and Tom Simms. These two never spoke to each other, and each lived on his own small farm as though the other did not exist. One morning Simms was going by the city, Sir? alive good Mr. THE HOUSE Clover's house on the way to town. He noticed that the stock had been neglected for some time: this wasnt like Clover, so Simms determined to investigate matters. After making the rounds of the farm. he knew that something unusual had taken place. Clover had either suddenly gone away, or else he was dead-the latter being the most logical. However, wishing to make sure, Simms went into the house. There he found no sign of life and walked through all of the few rooms. At the threshold of the bedroom he hesitated with an anticipation of terror. Then he opened the door, and there on the bed he saw the dead body of his enemy! Turning, he sped from the house and had never again entered it. Because of his hatred for Clover, Simms left the body unburled, Spirits? Yes, he had heard them in the woods at night and had heard them call on the mountain-side: and for some reason he had been afraid. since that last day he saw Clover-afraid of being alone! The story was done. Horror fascinated James Conrad, so the next morning he prepared to visit the haunted house. After arguing with Simms for an hour, he finally persuaded the old man to go with him. When they reached the clear- ing of the house, Simms' pace quickened, and he, looking straight ahead of him, led the way into the house. Once inside, they tip-toed as though they were afraid of wak- ing the dead. Conrad reached the bedroom door first: and as he opened lt, he kept his eyes on the other's face. He was prepared for any EXPRES- sion but the one he saw there. The strained, hunted look had given place to one of inde- scribable surprlse and joy. 'tsam Clover. cried the old man rushing into the room with outstretched arms. Conrad was now looking at the figure on the bed. The corpse was vainly endeavor- ing to pull on his shoes: he was as puzzled as the young author at the actions of Simms, who was continually saying, Yoh ain't dead? I'm not alone, Course I ain't dead, snorted the man on the bed trying to pull on the other shoe. I held a bad spell nigh ontuh two yeahs gone by that most past me out tho'. Whatls got intuh yuh? Yuh ain't iergot that you're ma enemy have yuh? Sam, I sweah to fo rglt that if you do. I thought you wuh dead, and now I found yuh. I've l'arned that yu.h kin miss even an enemy when yuh know yuh're alone. Well, said Clover a little embarrassed, I ain't got no hawd feelin's agin' yuh, TORX. The young man closed the door softly and left them. He was whistling gayly as he again turned his horse into the trail. once again he paused on the ledge of the night before. Below him he could see a cabin and a distant house. Some story, he thought, as he smiled at the sky. Pg' fx 'fqqy q M lr. Il's nothing much to think of- But every now an d then, I wonder where M. Gandhi ...I:5:I.. Carries his fountain pen. -BUFFAIJO EVENING NEWS.

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1932 ..TI-IE ORANGE AND BLA CK.. June CENTRAL TELLS HER OWN STORY EEK after Commencement-Well, the magazine for the nrst semester came out thls last week. Boy! Wasn't there a grand scramble when lt did? My poor feet were so stepped on that my eorns are giving me nts, Why, the klds kept continually run- ning from the gyms to the top floor gettlng signatures. I felt sort of hurt about that too: you see, they never once let me put ln my signature ll know I can't write, but they could have dropped their magazines on my dusty floors, and I would have made a markl even though they're always marking on me -my desks, my walls. my blackboards. my floors, and my books. I have been hearing rumbles and grumbles about the magazine. too. It seems that everyone thought it WBS punk, because it had only twelve pages. Anyway lt's nlce to know that they relished what they dld get enough to want more. Sh! I'm going to let everybody in on a secret. Santa Claus brought me a dlary for Christ- mas, so I'm going to use lt all this coming semester. This ls the first page tsplashl and. oh goodness, I've made one blot already. Glmme your blotter? Thanks, my. but lt's lonesome around here without the Seniors. Perhaps I'll get a chance to sleep now. Goodnight. . Q - s 4 EIBRUARY 18-At last Herlock Sholmes and I have solved the great mystery which has been bothering the wisest minds of Scotland Yards of late. The mys- tery: what has been making Ronald Stark- weather and Walter Foster look like poets? The solution to this baffling question is slm- ple: They have been letting their halr grow long not because of the depression but be- cause they must do so for the play tomorrow night. After looklng around we saw that others ln the cast are doing the same thing. That means that there are going to be wigs -and more wigs. We hope Aleen wlll get a nice high one-just to make up some of the difference fn height between her and George, I-Dave another cigar, Sholmes old man, before you leave. Yes, I guess you had better go, for I ought to rest up for the big doings tomor- row night, It would never do to have circles under my eyes. Mr. Waehler might question me as to where I was last night. So long. . . . . . ARCH 4-Midnight. Ho-hum! Why can't I sleep? Guess I'll have to take an aspirin. Seems to be an awful paln ln my gymnasium. That's rlghtl It was only a half-hour or so ago that an orchestra. was playing and couples were dancing. No won- der I have lndlgestlon. Well, the few cos- tumes I could see weren't so bad: in fact. some were almost original. I was amazed for a minute when I saw two gentlemen dancing together, but upon closer observa- tlon, I was relfeved to find that one of the gentlemen was a lady. For shame, Grace. I also noticed that Mr. Waehler stayed quite near the colonnade all evening. After lnves- tlgatlon I discovered that was where the Eskimo Pies came from. Ahem! All I got for my share were wrappers thrown ln my face. As I said before. no wonder I have ln- dlgestion. . - n . . ARCH 5-Of all the terrlble outrages! I discovered this week when I eaves- dropped on the School Board meeting that there was a conspiracy going on against me! They are planning to murder me just because of a few paltry dollars! To thlnk that I, who have served my city faithfully lor so many years, should meet such an endl I challenge you, Mr. Schoolboard, to a duel and I shall use facts for weapons, Sir, why couldn't you think of cutting down expenses by-oh, I've broken two pens and a Tfcon- deroga pencil so I'll declare a moratorium on this subject until the end of the semester. Perhaps by then the Irish ire I lnherlted from my great-grandfather McDonald will look more intelligible than this-grrr?SGN- I know I shan't sleep tonlght. toast ARCH 23-The reading contest is on in full swing judging from the poetical faces everyone ls wearing. Bob Harris held hls classmates spellbound wlth rapture as he read The Nlght I-las a Thousan d Eyes. Ehzerythlng ls belng read including nursery rhymes, and everyone is reading. including John Deards. In the llbrary after school there is a sweet rush for books of poetry. Say, here's a good one. Gee, thls one's bad. Oh, then lt'll go over blg. Sure, just make 'em weep, and you got 'em. Say, kid, llsten to this one. I just about roared when I read lt. Oh, heck, thls is a swell one, but I could never get dramatic enough, Dlalects are picked on by quite a few. Jimmy I-Iamacker has hls Georga da Vashfngtonf' and others have Negro and Irish dialects. Sometimes I begln to thlnk this is Ellis Island. Shucks, I wlsh I could read poetry too. Today students looked on ln awe whlle Professor Roebuck Cao relation to Sears? made some experiments with llquld air during the audltorlum period. For one thing he busted a dlpper, a ball, a bottle. and a few other odds and ends. I was afraid he might pour some of that llquld stuff on me. What I couldn't do with a keg of that stuff. wouldn't be worth a Scotchman's church collectlonl . - . . Q PRIL 15-Well, the state tournament ls over, and I can't help but sigh as I look at all the trophies I have won in the glorious past. Clearly I can remember the day when it was taken for granted that I would be champion of everything. What- ever's the matter with me anyway? I used to have power and I stlll have power-along with an lnferiorlty complex! By and by my complex will mln my complexion, so it's high time for me to change the brand I am using before lt becomes a habit. I'm trying Pep for breakfast too. I think, t.hough, as Mr. Barnes does: someone ought to glve me a klck in the pants. .471- AY ll-Oh dear-I've such a pain In I I I my ear. Doc Barnes has just been here and diagnosed my case as acute rudeness. I guess lt has something to do wlth the concert that was held ln my auditorium last night. Wasn't I proud of my songsters, though? My chest puffed out like a paper bag when the curtains opened, but the bag broke just as I began boasting to myself about how nicely we were going to show off. Suddenly a bunch of naughty boys began hooting and laughing and talking and dls- playing all sorts of bad manners. I've prom- fsed myself ever since that lf I could catch one of those scamps ln a corner some dark night, I'd sure warm 'em plenty. You know, I've a pretty steady knee and plenty of mus- cle ln my right arm. . t - . . RIDAY, May 13-Horrors! Will I ever get through the day safely? All ready unusual thlngs are taking place, This mornlng my auditorium was darkened and another Friday momlng program began. To my utter astonishment and constematlon lt was neither a talk on flowers and trees nor a one-act play. The nrst thlng I knew a youngster who calls himself Ed Kilgore was oulllng rabbits out of sllk hats and making things disappear in the alr. Funny, the handcuff and box act dldn't seem to make such a whopper of an impression. After- ward I heard a llttle lad Knot Jay Ashbrook? remark dlsgustedly. I-Ie lsn't no Hadlnl. Well, how does he know that Houdlnl was any better? He never saw him. One thing dlsappolnted me. however: Eddy dldn't have a magic word, and 1 was looking for lt all the tlme. I imagine he wore his out using it as a walking stlck. . . . . . MAY 25-It's ralnlngl . . . . . UNE 2-Once more the year has rolled around and graduation is at hand. Again I must say Good-bye to my children. It isn't so hard, though, for I think I have won the flght and will be here again next year with a new dress and shoes on, So long, everybody. Merry Christmas and I-l'aPDY New Yearl NINETY YEARS FOR CENTRAL lContlnued from Page Four! That shall be Our name nd more: Little bricks are now the biggest. bricks ln town. The students then were not very different from present-clay ones except ln a few in- stances. Everyone was greatly interested fn debating and oratory and lt seems as lf every graduate had to give an oratlon at commencement: the best one receiving the Shaw prize. The person having the highest scholastic standing was given the valedictory, the second hlghest the salutatory and the thlrd highest special mention. Fruit show- ers were much ln vogue as a method of showing the student's appreciation of his teacher and it was only ln 1889 that slnglng as a drill lesson was omltted ln the high school.