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Page 10 text:
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THAT’S LIFE The tinkling of a bell broke the silence of the little sidestreet pawn- shop as it announced a customer. The short, stalky Irish proprietor emerged from a back room to find a beautiful young woman, robed in mourning black, holding a cherubic baby in her arms. “A young widow,” said the pro- prietor to himself. He had seen many like her but it wasn’t in his business to sympathize with his customers. Somehow, however, as she pathetic- ally fumbled in pulling her wedding ring from her trembling left hand, clutching the child in her right, as tears welled in her lovely eyes, some- thing caught the Irishman’s heart. She laid the ring caressingly on the counter and asked, “How much could you give me for it, please?” Her voice portrayed a soul deeply burdened with grief and sorrow. Examining the ring, he found it to be of practically no value. He was all business-like when he was about to say that the most he could offer was fifty cents, when the baby broke out in choking wails. The pent-up feeling of the woman sud- denly burst as she began to sob hysterically, clutching the child to her bosom and murmuring, “My little darling, daddy is gone forever. Where can I get food for you? What will be the outcome? Why has fate been so cruel to me?” The pawnbroker’s heart softened as his eyes filled with tears. He had steeled himself against many pathetic cases, but he had never seen one like this. How could he turn this young mother away in such a large de- pressed city ? Perhaps sending her to her doom. Turning towards the sub- dued woman, he sympathetically and earnestly asked, “When have you two eaten last?” “Last night I fed the baby, I haven’t eaten since yesterday noon.” The pawnbroker was at once chari- table. “Won’t you have something to eat?” “Oh, thank you so much, but if you could be so kind as to give me the money for the ring, please, I would be so grateful to you for it. I would like to pay my room rent and buy the baby proper food and clothing. Then, I may find some work.” “Why don’t you go home to your parents or relatives?” inquired the Irishman. Lowering her head, she answered sadly, “I haven’t any.” Deeply touched, the man thought, “What does the loss of fifty dollars mean when I may save two lives?” Returning from the cash register, he handed the woman the money and murmured, “Good luck to you.” The young mother gratefully smiled at him as she accepted the money and left saying, “May He help you.” The pawnbroker, smiling, re-entered his back room saying to himself, “That deed has opened the pearly gates for you, old man.” A few blocks away from the pawn- shop, the young woman, still carrying the child, climbed into a waiting car and said, “0. K. Charlie, that old fool fell for my stuff like a brick. Let’s try one more place and call it a day. I’m tired of carrying this hired brat.” — Helen Smith, ’37.
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Page 9 text:
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THE SCREECH OWL 7 no difference whether the work is mental or physical, because Efficiency can be used in both. Investigations and experiments have proved that Efficiency pays, as under such a sys- tem, more work is accomplished in less time, and there is less wear on the human body. A few years ago a person was sit- ting in our commercial room for a study period. His attention was at- tracted to the teacher who was start- ing a lecture. He could not study any longer. The most interesting thing to him that school year was to listen to this teacher talk. He was too young to be inspired by what was said, but he has always kept the talks in mind as opinions on Efficiency. On this par- ticular morning, the instructor was especially interesting. He talked to the students about schedules. “Plan your work,” he said, “it only takes a few minutes.” The student did not pay attention to this bit of advice, but now he realizes the significance of it. If you make up your mind to do something, do it. For you will find that if you postpone something, you never do it later. With a schedule there is no need of putting- off. If you keep within your schedule, you will find that all your work will be accomplished and that you still have time to yourself. But you who did not hear this talk, what about your Efficiency ? What do you know about improving your work with speed, accuracy, and enough stamina to do your work again ? Effi- ciency is not dull, on the contrary, it is interesting. Incidents happen every day that could be avoided. For ex- ample, suppose there is an automo- bile accident. The cars meet at an intersection both going at an unusual rate of speed. The cars are damaged. Luckily, the drivers were not hurt, but if they were Efficient the crash would not have happened. If car owner A saw that his vehicle was in good condition, that his brakes were not faulty, the crash might have been avoided. If owner of car B had al- lowed himself sufficient time to get to work he would not have to hurry, en- dangering the lives of others. These inefficient persons are a menace to their community. True enough, all good things have their bad points. It is argued that Efficiency tires a person. When one acquires the art of Efficiency one gets into a certain rhythm. It is when this rhythm is broken that fatigue steps in. This can be remedied by having scheduled rest periods. The human body is a motor to whatever work it does. When a gasoline motor does not run smoothly, it is said to need tuning- up. If this is not attended to imme- diately, any number of troubles may result. A human motor may be tuned up, but if a part wears out, it can never be replaced. I repeat. Efficiency, is the shortest, easiest, and best method of doing work. Remember, it pays ! — Albert Bachrach, ’38.
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Page 11 text:
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THE SCREECH OWL 9 THE FRIGID PRINCIPAL (After looking- in on the Ancient Mariner) It is the frigid principal, And he grabbeth one of three, By thy friendless look and glittering eye, Now wherefore stopp’st thou me? Dismissal rang some time ago. And I would leave this hall. My friends do go, and I must too ; This aft’ eve play some ball. He holds him with his clenching hand. This subdued boy stood still. And listens like a brokened colt. The principal hath his will, (as usual) (3 hours later) The strickened youth sat at his desk. There was naught else to do, And thus did speak that learned man. And what he spake was true. ' ‘Bother, bother all the time. You make a lot of noise. Bother, bother all the time. You’re worse than other boys.” Thrice did you upset the class. And never your lessons do. I thought a while, and now I know Just what’s to be done with you. Farewell, farewell, but first to thee. You rebel, do I say, “He playeth ball who doeth all And acteth the right way!” — Sylvia Glickman THE LAST DAYS OF SENIORS As the first evident signs of spring appear in March, so also do the first faint rumors and vague plans for Graduation begin to be discussed. Throughout the four years in high school we Seniors have, more or less, subconsciously been striving for that apparently far-distant goal — gradua- tion. As the weather gradually grows warmer, and summer looms nearer and nearer, those indefinite prepara- tions for the commencement in June begin to materialize, and more definite plans are formulated. Of course, one of the first impor- tant events during the last year in high school, especially to Seniors, is the appearance of the photographs of our classmates. How eagerly we await their coming! Recklessly many of us promise pictures to everyone who asks for one, and consequently we later suffer pangs of remorse because our slender finances did not allow for such an extravagance. Some pupils
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