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

Page 32 text:

The Psg eholoqist JOHN JAMES BECKER sat in his seat just about as tensely as any one in an eight-o'clock psychology class of young Professor Watkins could have sat. His eyes reflected the sparkle and zeal that emanated from those of the worthy instructor, and hung on his every word with an almost pitiful earnestness. ln fact, it is doubtful if there was a soul present who was not moved by the dy- namic power of Professor Watkins when he was lit to the highest flame of enthu- siasm for his subject, which he most certainly was today. It was most doubt- ful, especially when that subject hap- pened to be his newest theory on the relation of the unconscious to the con- scious mind . . . John was completely convinced that this hero of his was right, that Thomas and Aichorn and Watson and all the rest of the world's psychologists were horribly far off on their explanations of the subject. After all, hadnit Professor Watkins explained the whole situation to him yesterday in the heart-to-heart talk they had had following class, and hadnat he explained to him just how the whole thing worked out? Of course he had. He had even confided to John the blushed with pride at Watkins' trust in himl that he was conducting another of his surveys among his pupils to classi- fy them according to something or oth- er, he wasnit quite sure what. And to climax it all, Watkins had asked John then if he wouldn't care to help him by choosing some one of his fellow class- mates, analyzing him, and reporting his findings. Would he care to help him! It sent chills up and down John's boyish frame to think of his position of honor. All last year as a freshman he had walked up and down the hill to classes, staring with awe at the majestic, pre-occupied looking professors as they passed him by, dreaming, hoping, of someday hav- ing the supreme experience of simply being a member of their classesg and now, here he was, actually helping one of these demi-gods in his quest for knowledge! John had his man all picked out. It hadn't taken him long to spot the ideal victim for the survey in his daily walks page thirty by Jackie Ugilvie on the campus, for his eye had almost immediately caught one of the most destitute-appearing characters on the college grounds. In truth, it must be admitted that our prey, Harry Botska, was a sorry sight on his lonely journeyings about. You were pretty hard-boiled if your heart didnit give you a little tug of sym- pathy as you watched him shuffle out of the chemistry building on a biting March day, saw his eyes gaze pleadingly at a leaden sky that threatened to pour its torrents upon him at any moment, and saw him draw his short, inadequate jacket about an undernourished body as he hurried away. John had made several futile attempts to enter the unfortunate's acquaintance, but without success. Once as they both passed out of the Brinstone's history lecture he started the thing off by ask- ing for a light, and was immediately rebuffed with the reply that Harry didn't smoke. On another occasion he hastily snatched up a physics manual the pur- sued had let fall, returned it with much jabbering on his part, and received a retort of frigid silence from Harry Botskafs person. This, John decided, was more than just a case of poverty, here was some- thing more deeply seated than that. A fellow who would turn you cold when you smiled at him was queer somewhere, and John felt he knew the root of trou- ble. Home environment. That was it. Only last week Professor Watkins had devoted five class periods to it, turning the subject inside out and upside down until his patient listeners were thor- oughly saturated in every angle of it by the time he had exhausted his knowl- edge. How idiotic of him not to have thought of that before-home environ- ment, of course. -Father undoubtedly a good-for-nothing drunk, -Mother an illiterate old sport who bounded the life out of a son that was vainly striving to overcome the awful influence of slum life. John gave a shudder at the mental picture of Harry Botska writing themes and studying music in the stenching en- vironment. He knew now that he must learn to know the boy, to gain his friendship, to help him out of the rut. It was his unavoidable duty as the as- sistant of Professor Watkins and as a good psychologist. And John was as good as his vow. Within a week his dogged perseverance had melted the ice, had overcome the obstacle of aloofness in Harry, and brought forth the desired fruit-an al- most intimate friendship between them. True enough, he hadn't learned much of Harry's personal life yet, but give him time, and the boy would talk all right. Today they were sauntering out of chemistry lab together, conversing in a most affable manner. It was the quiet voice of Harry that broke into his com- panion's friendly prattle. Say, I'm sor- ryf, he began, but I'm headed for home, so I'll be leaving you heref' And he shifted about to cross the traffic-laden intersection. Johnis heart skipped a beat, here for the first time in their acquaintance his prey had mentioned homeg he mustn't for anything let this chance to see the place slip through his fingers. He spoke rapidly. Apparently youlre going in my di- rection today. Mind if I walk on with you? Again they marched on together as John inwardly patted himself on the back for a good piece of quick thinking. They tramped on for blocks, through the cityis smoke-filled factory section, through the dusty downtown, into an ex- clusive residential area, still keeping up that buoyant flow of conversation led by persistent John. But at an unexpected moment Harry stopped in his tracks-stopped before a dwelling that caused John to gasp with awe-3 it was a mansion of the sort one reads about in novelsg a veritable palace. Pm afraid I must be leaving you this time. I live here, you seef' laughed Harry, strolling up the handsome ter- race. Dad is off for Paris on business again this afternoon, and I must bid him good-by before he leaves, and oh, say-,,' running back to his fainting friend, I hope you'll forgive the attire live been going around in these past weeks, the boys down at Cappa Chi al- ways push some darned thing like this on a fellow when he's being initiatedf'

Page 31 text:

I BAND I.. Hall. J. Honjglnnd. H. Rinke. A. Victor. B. Mnnchow, E. Wegmillcr. B. Basile. E. Button. M. Capaci. J. DiLorz-nm, E. Eggenhz-rger. M. Friedland, R. Hammersley. I. Judd, V. Kauffman, R. Klope, B. Lindquist, I. Miller, M. Montnto. J. Sell, K. Wieg. V. Wills. R. Wtiivtl. T. Bird. J. Barbuto. B. Joseph. M. Lynch. R. Ames. T. Basile, J. Bnrnstcin. R. Cabbci. G. Powers. S. Reilly, C. Rounds. E. Stark. J. Sticka. B. Clcm- agc. P. Flannery, H. Ciller, C. Kinder, D. Kirk- patrick, J. Schara, I. Levy. J. Motelct, R. Speth. M. Kaegi. H. Williams. D. Schaefer. P. Starr. W. 0'Brien. W. Schwr-im-ni. R. Timnwrman. R. Welty, K. Bruckelmcyer, C. Moss, D. Ryan. B. Sweet. S. Fatsis, P. Pinkerton. ORCHESTRA I.. Heil, B. Blied. T. Brown. M. Galnnos. C. Har- ris, E. Koepp, W. Toy. A. Zacrone. J. Cich. R. Cnhhei. E. Inghrilscn. K. Niehulir. I. Wcin. L. Wold, C, Harris. W. Pope. W. Woldcnberg. M. Kaegi. J. Nybe-rg. A. Grubb. H. Williams. B. Basilc, A. Namio. D. Schaefer. P. Starr, J. Hong- lantl. H. Rinks. M. Litscher, A. Victor. B. Mun- chow. E. Wegmillc-r. V. Kauffman, R. Klnpe. B. Lindquist, J. Sell, B. Clemage, P. Flannery, H. Ciller, C. Kinder. R. Ames. C. Rounds. E. Stark. I. Levy. J. Motelet. R. Speth. R. Wci- ty. K. Bruckelmeyer. C. Moss. D. Ryan. S. Fat- sis, M. Sherman. CHOIR First Row: C. Powers. M. Adams, E. Adams. M. Tonn. L. Hobbs. K. Kcleny, M. Sherman, R. Alt. J. Niebnhr. J. Johannes, R. Meyer, N. Morse. C. Ellestad, J. Johannes, H. Schmelzkopt. K. Cle- ments. M. Burdick. P. Flannery, R. Giusti. L. Vsndall, A. Vitale, and R. Mergeng Second Row: J. Schmidt. M. Flngnm, J. Gainey, B. Westphal, C.H ' F.D R.Ed' E.0 .W H al'fI!, TEWB. IB, yEKl . I-ln' sen, W. DeHaven. D. Kirkpatrick. P. Rein, L. Kelly. J. Stutz, C. Peckham. G. Robeck. J. Born- stein, S. Crimmins. E. Banks. A. Eireman. K. Act-ardo. D. Emi-ry. K. Cirh. and K. Griffin: Third Row: A. L. Gannon. J. Connor. l. Peter- son. C. Slightam, P. Feeney, E. Gaffney. M. L. Brnnker. A. Stes-le. A. Frame. C. Christiansen. W. Schwcincm. J. Hackett, E. Cirh, T, Reynolds. E. Peterson, R. Flngnm, R, Schmidt, D. Switsky. P. Pinkerton, C. Furey, M. Ludwig. L. Wold. and B. Basil:-3 Fourth Row: A. Roumsky. J. Stassi, M. E. Farrell. M. J. Pinkerton. C. Schimming. R. Gabbei. E. Brumm. D. MacLennon, R. Gah- bei, A. Zaccune. G. Torgeson. A. Holloway. J. Motisi, T. Prestigiacomo, G. Cardarella. C. Har- ris, D. Stehr. M. Christensen. P. Starr, D. Par- kinson, M. Nelson, A. Peet, F. Chiviaro, T. Kar- abis, and J. Hanson. s 1 -u- Shaw Prize Essags Factors to Consider in Planning My Life Program ' S I HAVE spent many hours thinking about and planning my life work, I have found four important factors which I must consider. First, will my parents approve of it? Second, can I afford the expense of preparation? Third, have II the ability to handle this type of job? Fourth, will this program satisfy me in later years? These are the most important factors in consider- ing my life work. The choice of my life work is me- chanical engineering. This vocation seems to-meet the conditions the best. Iiwill show you why. First, will my parents approve of this type of work? This is a very serious factor to consider, for parents can com- pletely break up one,s future with their own ideas of what their children should be. I have talked it over with my mother and she agrees that the choice is very good. It is very helpful to know my parents are behind me. Second, can I afford the expense of going to the University for four years? This is a question that stumps most people, but it really isn't difficult for me. I remember that thousands of boys and Getting On With My Family VERYONE knows there are difficulties in getting on with a family. And everyone knows myriads of causes for this. But it's just like the weather. Ev- erybody talks about it but nobody does anything about it. However in diagnos- ing a case, it is wise to determine the causes. The chief cause of minor fric- tion fwhich is the most disturbing ele- ment in family lifel is the close contact between members. While this may bring about an underlying deep affection, it lays the groundwork for many small quarrels and petty grievances. Natur- ally one reasons that in the bosom of the family one may indulge in moods. But with all members indulging freely in moods, no members try to fit their moods into those of others. I've often thought that it might be wise to divide a family into sections, and on one day one part would decide the moods and the other parts follow suit, while on the day, the next part would get its chance. girls are working their way through school. I have worked my way for the last two years of school and I see no reason why I can't go on.. The third and most important factor is this. Have I the ability to handle this type of work? To answer this I had to know my math and physics, be able to do mechanical drawing, and last and most important, have the knack of do- ing this type of work. I am majoring in these subjects at high school, and I will be well prepared when I enter the University. I have always enjoyed fig- uring out the problems that engineer- ing will give me. and I feel that I have the knack of doing it. Fourth, will this program satisfy me in later life? I had to know the income and the life of a mechanical engineer leads to answer this. I found that the income is far above the average worker and would secure me all the wants I would have. The life of a mechanical engineer isnit the least bit dull, and it would give me a variety of work that would never grow tiresome. When I summarize these factors I think I have made the best choice for my vocation. I have found that I had to consider all the factors when choosing my life work and planning my life pro- gram. -JAMES HEFFERNON The more I think about it, it seems this has unlimited possibilities ----- . Another cause of minor friction is family inter- est. Families seem to feel that theirs is the unrestricted right to know all the business of the other members. This may lead to really serious misunder- standings, such as when the family was led to believe that Hub was going to get married simply because he refused to deny it. Still another cause is the ques- tion of parental control. The argument Times have changed since you were young may be time-worn, but at least in my family it is wholly unsatisfactory. And there is the question of timing when a slow person and a fast person live in the same family. This can cre- ate many problems, but they are not unsolvable. However, families must be lived with, and tact must be developed to smooth away the rough edges which cause minor friction. The main difliculty in the use of tact is that one never knows when one is going to smooth the cat's fur the wrong fcontinued on page thirty-fourl page twenty-nine

Page 33 text:

Mirror Staff MARY ELLEN FARRELL will head the Mirror staff of 1940-41 as editor- in-chief. Mary F.llen's interest in jour- nalism began in junior high school and has developed through her reporter days on the Mirror. Ralph Hatheld, who will return the first semester next year, will guide the advertising staff. Ralph, assisting this se- mester, has to his credit a course in salesmanship and advertising at Louis- ville, Kentucky. Caryl Shimming will assist him. Darrell Ryan will become sports edi- tor, Eileen O'Neill will be in charge of the feature page. Many veteran report- ers and special writers will return. Harmful oneg y by Jack new OE HARPER was a hard-working, hon- est type of man, but his fine habits were of little avail at the present because he had been out of work for four months. His wife, Mary, had done much the past four months to help keep them in existence. She had taken in washings, done sewing, and many other small, odd jobs where she could earn a few dollars for groceries and rent. David, their son, was two years of age. He knew what it was to go without supper many times, and knew very little of what candy or any kind of sweets were. The Harpers lived in Findlay, a small coal-mining town in southwestern Pennsylvania about sixty miles from Pittsburgh. Joe had been trying to obtain work in one of the numerous coal mines about Findlay, after having been laid off his truck- driving job. Finally a glorious day came. Joe ran home, picked up his baby and kissed it, and, with his wife in his arms, told her that he was to start work the next morn- ing at seven oiclock for the lnter-State Coal Company. Mary was very happy- so happy that she took the two dollars she had made that very day doing Mrs. Johnstonis laundry and bought enough food for a fine dinner that night. How good it was to be living, they thought. They had their baby, food, and now Joe's job. Of course his salary was small to start with, but Joe proved his ability and obtained a raise. Soon everything was going smoothly. Mary did not have to work any more. Joe had Saturday afternoons off. and the three usually packed a picnic lunch and went to the Zoo for the remainder of the day. Joe was teaching David to swim in the small lake near the Zoo, and en- joyed this as much as David did. David was such a joy to Mary and Joe. They had something to work for in life, an ambition, something to strive for. They wanted David to grow up, to attend school and college, and make something of himself. They could sit for hours and talk of what would become of David. Mary pictured him as a famous doctor or lawyer. ,loe could see that he would be a great athlete and possibly become coach of Notre Dame or Southern Cali- fornia. They were so proud of him, they would sacrifice anything for David. Four years passed. David was six now, in fact, his birthday was that very day. Mary had baked a cake and had planned a fine dinner for David. The three of them had a party together. Joe had bought a wagon for the boy, and Mary had made him a new suit. The child was very happy. The party ended by David's falling asleep in his mother,s arms while Joe was reading him a story. Mary took the boy into the bedroom and tucked him in his small bed. David had been going to school for the past two years. He was growing to be a fine, sturdy young man. His par- ents truly cherished him. The Harpers had even saved a little money. Within another week or two, Joe hoped to move out of the two small rooms they were living in. One night Joe came home from work and told Mary that there had been two lawyers over to the mine to see him. He was called.from his work and ques- tioned about his family background, his birthplace, and 'ga million other ques- tions, as Joe stated it to Mary. One week later these same two lawyers came to Joe's home. After a lengthy discus- sion, to Mary and Joeis surprise, one of the men told Joe that he had inherited two million dollars and a large estate on Long lsland, New York. At first Mary and Joe did not believe it, for it was impossible, they thought, for any- thing of that nature to happen to them, the plain and simple Harpers. When at last they were convinced, Mary went in and got David. The parents stayed up until two o'clock in the morning talking about it, but David did not know much of what was going on-just that his parents were very happy. Within the next four months, the Harpers had moved to Long Island to their country estate. At first it was hard for them to become accustomed to their maids, butlers, chauffeurs, etc., but as time went on, they became very much at home, in fact, too much. Joe had be- come a member of a distinguished downtown club in New York. He was seldom at home in the evenings. He had never known what it was previously to have money, and now that he had in- herited so much, he was determined to have a good time, with little regard for his family. He visited night clubs and was intoxicated often. He was 'amakings' the headlines in the newspapers, not be- cause of heroic behavior, as he was capable of showing. but for his mad spending of money, his exploits, and his trail of parties and good times. Truly, he had gone umoney madf' At first Mary did not know what to do. She thought of getting a divorce, but then trontinuerl on page thirly-six? page thirty-u