Manual High School - Thunderbolt Yearbook (Denver, CO)

Page 18 text:

Goff!--Si.1'l11 lVurrl.v Pwr .lIin1flr'.' COMMERCE SOME members of a commerce class are gazing off into space, some are figuring diligently, others rack their brains for an elusive answer that sim- ply won't come. A dark, broad-shouldered, merry-eyed man, whose store of energy and teasing is never exhausted, instructs pupils in every subject from how to sew on buttons to the number of square inches in a three inch peach. Who knows? Some of these students who now struggle and worry through this commerce class may some day be the John D. Rockefellers and the Henry Fords of our generation. Nimble minds, flying lingers, and sharp eyes, all are required by that un- usually tall man, who, at the most unexpected time may break out in a merry chuckle and immediately revert to the serious, seldom smiling person so famil- iar around Manual's halls. This man teaches shorthand to despairing pupils, who when starting shorthand moan, 'Tm going to drop that class, I'll never be able to keep up with that chatter of words that feel like machine gun bul- lets coming at me. They never drop the course and when they finish they are the polished veterans of many long hours of taking rapid-lire dictation. The above classes, however, are only a part of the huge spinning world of commercial training revolving in Manual. TYPING! STENOGRAPHY! BOOKKEEPINGZ Ali take their place to send ourselves and our posterity on to a better understanding of the modern business world. wil vv .. v ,, rv - 4 rv , - 1- 1 I I .sugfyffsl Ilml lou ,llllllljlllll llml Um .hmm

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H3-Us 1' Nf'1fIptm's I'rf'f'f'r .lIr1.w'uIinw Nulzjwr-ts-13111 Xnf .1II! ART NO, THAT line is not right, there should be a little more angle to it,'l or that nose is slightly small.', A sharp featured, kindly man, eyes gleaming with enthusiasm, directs the artistic efforts of his pupils. Some are working on art pages for the annual, carving in modern fashion beautiful linoleum blocks, etching muscular figures, or blocking off designs for the cover die. Others industriously strive to shape realistic models of animals, humans, and other objects to enter in the Carter contest, While yet another is absorbed in the work of painting a landscape or a beautiful vase. One young artist stands at a window gazing off into the distance, inspired by the mountains rearing high to the west. Now he's sitting on the edge of a cliff drinking in the splen- dor of a Western sunset-then sailing in the breezes sweeping down the can- yon onto the lake. Reverie interrupted by the instructor coming into the room, he goes to his seat to put his imagination to work on paper, with figures, lines, or colors. There goes the bell! Students hurriedly leave to make room for others who come to appreciate the colorful redheads of Titian, the versions of pres- ent day industrial strife by Thomas Benton, or the pastoral symphonies of Grant Wood. They learn to recognize the paintings of the masters by the characteristics of their work. Men die and are forgotten, but the great world of art still lives. l-l I-'1'1'4'-11111141 llrf11f'iny1 Is Ihr' I nl'111I1lfirn1 ul' .HI .lrf

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'llftllll I Hwlp Youf ' ENGLISH STUDENTS sitting in rows of desks. Scratching of pencils-words and def- initions form on yellow paper. Small groups gather, and as papers are col- lected, voices fill the room, What was the subject in the fourth sentence?l' Quietly leaving the tenth graders comparing mistakes an entirely different scene is laid before us. Soft breathing, steady eyes gazing upon printed pages -Scott's Ivanhoe, Poe's Murders in the Rue Morgue, Wodehouse's Pic- adilly Jim, Twain's Tom Sawyer, and other colorful volumes rest before students. In the next room a lively discussion of early drama takes place. Enthusiastic hands wave wildly in air as questions fall fast and heavy? The literature classes hold our attention. However, our steps turn toward another room as voices float through the hall. Composition students grasping for the fundamentals of English grammar are engaged in nerve-wracking pursuit of the conjugation of verbs or the declination of pronouns. The rhythmical beats of a gavel vibrate through the hall with deafening force. Suddenly, the intermingled voices are silenced. A speaker paces dramatically to and fro, as he holds his class audience breathless with the age old oration of Patrick Henry's Give me liberty or give me Death. Across the hall an article on a hit-and-run driver busily occupies the news fan's minds. A bell rings! There is scraping of chairs and loud voices. Quickly the rooms are vacated. Another bell rings and as we resume our positions in the hall the same echoes greet us. Thirteen ll'lu'rr' Was Boolrwr T. llyil-Slllllilftlll Born?