Mattituck High School - Reflector Yearbook (Mattituck, NY)

Page 16 text:

a far corner came the sound of five-finger exercises hammered out on ivory keys. Stepping closer I saw the woman sitting by the instrument and giving the child a first piano lesson, was myself. Then all grew dark, all visions vanished, and finally rousing from my stupor I realized it had all been but a prophetic dream; and that the fire had gone out. Only the moonlight lingered, like a benediction, beautiful and full of promise. “Babe”. WHY Does Alice Silkworth like to go to Glen Cove? Does Anita McNulty like to go to New York? Does Lyndon Tuthill’s car often head toward Westphalia? Does Vivian Seymour go to Camp Upton? Does Alice Case’s horse turn toward Hog Neck? Does Gertrude Cooper like to wear her heart around her neck? And echo answers “why?” Miss Stisser asked Richard how he would know a hawk. Richard: “One way is in their flying; the hawk flies by flapping its wings three times, then soaring a little way and then flapping the wings again three times.” He proceeded thus until interrupted by Douglas who said: “Say, do you think you’re in a dance hall. You’re not shimmying!”

Page 15 text:

CLASS PROPHECY It was a night late in January—a cold silvery night. The moon shone upon the snow, streaking it with shadows; and the whole world seemed pervaded by a peaceful quiet. I was within' doors. Turning from my contemplation of this scene without, I crossed and took a chair by the open fireplace. The large room was lighted only by the glow from the burning logs and the pale radiance of the moon. Slowly, as I sat there, dreaming of the years to come, vague shadows seemed to gather ’round me and a heavy drow- siness possessed me. There appeared a stage, brilliant, gorgeous, peopled; and from its midst was wafted to me a song so beautiful it seemed to lift me to a world unknown. Such silvery clearness and such tones of richness,—oh. Hazel G., we will be justly proud of you. Dim grew the vision and another took its place. It seemed to be Fall in the Catskills. All around rose hazy mountains, the whole picture tinged with reds and yellows. And nestling in the midst was a tiny school-house. 1 seemed to pass within and there was our dear Millicent (who had been greatly disappointed in love) teaching with sweetened efficiency a motley brood. I would have stayed to watch and listen, but, forced on, passed out into a grove. Amidst the statelv grandeur of the trees a woman’s figure moved,—noble and beautiful. She seemed to love these trees; but best of all a tall straight Linden, under which she placed a chair and taking pad and pencil began to write what I could see would some day be a pamphlet, if the time were given her,—our Hope for years to come. I smiled and turned, and even as I turned the trees seemed run together, and a room enclosed me. From

Page 17 text:

LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT OF THE CLASS OF 1919 MILLICENT TUTHILL: We, the Senior Class of the Mattituck High School, being of sound mind, excellent memory and good understanding, do hereby make, publish and de- clare this to be our last will and testament in manner as follows, that is to say: First—Our best wishes to our Faculty for their future success in teaching the frivolous Juniors. Second—To our Junior class mates, striving to follow in our honored footsteps, we leave our much coveted dignity and the road-chart to Senior know- ledge. Third To the future class of 1921, we direct the care of the future Freshmen. Fourth W e bequeath to you, O inexperienced Freshies, the privilege of talking in the library. Fifth—To the individuals of the Junior Class, we give as follows: To Anita, according to her wish, a sour lemon. To Gertrude, a pair of new feet. You, O Vivian Seymour, a set of new blushes just on the market. To Lyndon, we leave “Hope”. To Alice S., the privilege of camouflaging. To Alice C., last but not least, the privilege of riding in a Brisco to Niagara Falls. Next, we leave our physics note-books such as they are, to our faithful teacher, Mr. Hughes. Lastly, we nominate and appoint the Cutchogue