Midwood High School - Epilog Yearbook (Brooklyn, NY)

Page 30 text:

-t fizaezziiiyfygggf -11? i f I f ,Eff W, ' Mp! E, , , X A SX., t 'Q' i X tt EIT UN Hunan LI'L CHILL'UN ,Q i There goes that alarm- Say, mem, what's the time? Give me just five more minutes of peaceful recline. But that voice deep within you says, Come on, rise and shine, Senior. You stumble from bed, in the pitch black disorder And head for the bathroomg there's never hot water, Then glance in the mirror at Dracula's daughter. It's a Senior V' A dab of the soap, a squeeze of the paste, And you're back in the bedroom to dress in great hasteg But you can't find one shoe, and there's no time to Waste. Happy Senior In Soon the ordeal is over, you're all dressed at last. A glance at the clock says it's almost half-past. There's no time to eat-well, you wanted to fast! Oh Senior ! You whiz down the street till you think you've struck J , Lift your head up to heaven and silently pray That the bus Will be empty and you're early today. You're a Senior, 26

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EENUS SENIUHIUS Mrs. A. S. Cohn: A senior is the iinal flowering of all virtue. He sees all, even a pretty Midwood co-ed in the springtime. He knows all, especially what is not so. He tells all, but not to teacher. Mr. Gabel: A senior is a superman: courteous, beautiful, handsome, and possessing all fine qualities. CBased on my observations of my senior class.j Mr. Gelb: A senior is one whose inherent modesty revolts at being forced to Wear senior hat and button, but submits because of tradition. Miss Hallock: A senior, to the teacher means, A boy or girl: Who likes to take a day from school, Who goes out nights and comes in late, Who trusts too frequently to fate When he forgets his work to do, Or fails to follow a school rule, Who has excuses right on hand, Who looks quite innocent and- Dear Seniors, happy, free, and gay, God bless and keep you on your way. Mrs. Heller: The noisiest gabber of them all. Mr. Hirsch: On top of the head, a senior hat, Inside the head, a freshman mind. Miss Lesser: A senior is a high school student all grown up . . . Better than any Broadway show. Mrs. Losee: A senior should be mature enough tcr' be depended upon to live up to rules of the school without police super- vision, ambitious enough for a future to plan and execute work without being naggedg available as aides in helping or instruct- ing undergraduates, above all, courteous. Mrs. Salitanz The girls are lovely to look atg the boys are manly, full of fun, but ladies and gentlemen always. Mr. Schulman: Recipe for a senior . . . Mix one pin, one hat, one piece of jewelry. Shake well and add a dash of sophistication. Allow to simmer for six months and you have an integrated senior. Mr. Spieler: A senior is an . . . Enigmatic dilemma . . . If this be tautological . . . MARILYN HOROWITZ 25

Page 31 text:

There's that crowd near the corner, Who've been waiting in vaing As they shiver and cram, they sing this refrain: I'll be dropped from that course if I'm late once again. I'm a Senior. You're staggering neath weight of textbooks and worry- By now it's half-past and time seems to hurry. Your life for a bus,-or a cab,-or a surrey- Poor Senior ! A bus is approaching at its usual pace, QWhere a tortoise could beat it, if both in a race.j But that bus doesn't stop, for within there's no space For a Senior! These vehicles keep passing, packed from ceiling to floor. By now you're so desperate, you shove to the door. You get tackled and bruised till you're beaten and sore. A fine Senior. The bus door's now closing and with one forceful lurch You land on the driver, an undignilied perchg But at last you're inside, headed for English with Hirsch. Lucky Senior ! Slip your hand in your pocket to search for your fare, And to your surprise find another hand there! Drop two of your books as you cry out for air- Some Senior ! You crawl through the turnstile by use of sheer force, As you trample down juniors, ignore their discourse. It's quite a tough battle, but you'll Win out of course, If you're a Senior. As you're thrown toward the rear and the bus starts to sway, Try to fall in the lap of the boy 'cross the way. You make more friends that way, I've heard some girls say- That's a Senior, VVell, you finally reach Midwoodg how ?-you'll never know, Though your hands are still trembling and your knees are now bowg You're mentally unchanged, be it good, bad, or so- Still a Senior. Then you struggle upstairs, try to stifle the yawning, Sneak into the class ignoring late warning And you're greeted by teacher with a cheery Good morning, Senior. SHEILA FLAMM 27