New Utrecht High School - Comet Yearbook (Brooklyn, NY)

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Verse and Worse Rnln Pnnl and Monroe Ackernmn TRAVELING by Monroe Ackerman Josiah Brush was a traveling man, Who sailed the briny main, He was Mr. Brush in England, And Senor Brush in Spain. The Frenchman called him Monsieur Brush, But the German's were his baneg For they always called him Herr Brush Which filled his soul with pain. The farmer in the dell, Bad people go to dash- And since its hot They like it not But what can you do about it? joe passed the cop without a fuss, He passed a load of hay, He tried to pass a swerving bus- And then he passed away. HAPPINESS Last night I held a hand So dainty and so neat, I thought my heart would burst with joy So wildly did it beat. No other hand Into my heart could greater solace bring, Than that I held last night, which was, Four aces and a king. A man who lived in Adarn's days, Who lived in days of yore, Could not say when he heard a joke, I've heard that one before. I stood on a bridge at midnight. A thought came into my head, Why should I be standing there When-I could be home in bed? Eeny meeny miiny moe, Stand the people in a row, Politicians steal their dough, Eeny meeny miiny moe. FORGOTTEN Ah, well I remember the bleak rainy day When you bade me farewell and departed. You hastened away through a shower in May And left me behind heavy hearted. Full many a May have I seen pass away In the years I have waited and sorrowed. Still hoping that you might remember some day To return the umbrella you borrowed. Nine i r I

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Ghz Qllumet THE Nurse was holding Ramon's hand, moving it up and down. Come on, Nora, keep on pumping. ls he coming around ? No, but I've known it to take two hours some: imes. We've only been at it two minutes. Keep on pumping. All right, doctor. IT was a book . . . but what a book... a book with covers of soft velvet stamped with pure gold and silver . . . with wide margins . . . beautiful woodcuts. . .letters a quarter of an inch wide and in blue . . . what a book! . . . he turned his head . . . there was a whole stack of books . . . hun- dreds, perhaps thousands . . . all of them as beautiful as this . . . enough to read for an eternity . . . and that was how long he'd be riding here on this interstellar ship, an eternity . . . But what to eat? . . . He turned again . . . he saw thin, fragile china dishes, holding delicately browned toasted sand- wiches, cut slantywise . . . he took one . . . it was filled with fairies' eggs . . . it tasted like whipped cream . . . soft, munchless, delicious . . . he saw next to the sand- wiches bowl after bowl of turquoise, onyx, mother of pearl, ebony, sandalwood, woods, glass, jewelry of all colors, full to the brim with perfect-fruit: pears of the right size, that were brownish-green and tasted divine- ly, peaches that had no furry feeling, no pits and that were as large as small grape-fruits, apples, oranges, grapes, all with no pits . . . God, how satisfied he was . . . he began to munch a pear and started to read the book . . . lt was Boccacio's, Decameron. GGWELL, doctor, how is he F In 10 minutes more he ought to have reached this side of heaven. We'll pull him throughf' Eight Gawd, l'm glad. Keep on pumping, Nursef, i'Doctor, his heartls starting to beat. Keep on pumping. RAMON dug himself deeper into the mattress . . . he was half through with the Decameron . . . how fast one read in this strange airship . . . how wonderful life was . . . he kicked his feet which were resting in a small pool filled with moss-greened pebbles and munched another toasted sand- wich . . . suddenly the sandwich faded, the books, the fruit, the pool . . . all began to grow dim . . . G6 ANOTHER second and we'll have him fit to . .. U l'm half dead, Doctor. A Keep on pumping, Nora. He's begun to breathef' . Good stuff. Good stuff. Keep it up. THE AIRSHIP was again a dot . .. whirling in a black void as fast as be- fore .. .then it began to go slower . . . the regular humming in Ramonis brain started again . . . then got lower and lower and be- gan to die out . . . the dot began to grow bigger and . . . soon it was a planet . . . the orbit stopped .... the planet grew bigger and bigger and became . . . the Doctor's face. RAMON clutched at the doctor's sleeve. D Where . . . am . . Sh, take it easy, the dentist said, sooth- ingly. Heres a glass of water. Rinse your mouth, said the Nurse. His head was in a whirl as he spat a bloody mass from his mouth. Don't worry. The tooth is out. But we had a close call, said the Nurse. fC0:zfi:z.'1ed 012 Page 111 L i

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L- 672 I Ruth Q. ' Goldberg S- Editor Q la of ' Pri . M V11-zr ' X si W I - Lirfef-am X . some new books . F LAMENCO Lady Eleanor Smith came to us last year with a vivid story of circus called the 'iRed Wagon.'l Now she brings us Flamenco a somewhat sympathetic theme. She writes of the gypsies with genuine authenticity, insight and under- standing. She does not paint them in the glorious gay colors of fantastic romance. The Romanies are a wild folk, dirty, dis- reputable, and dishonest, and as such she paints them. Lobo, the gypsy, and Richard Lavell, the gentleman, are both exiles. The one for violating the stern, Romany law of leis prala by killing a fellow gypsy, the other cheating at cards. He shelters the gypsy for a night, and buys the gypsy baby, Camila, who grows up as one of the Lavell children. Mrs. Lavell, who is quite insane and drinking herself deeper into insanity as a flight from bitter reality, hates Camila from the beginning. Richard makes ad- vances to the grown-up Camila and is repulsed. For revenge he sends her off to the gypsies. She returns, ragged and worn, with a tale of horribly brutal treatment, She marries the younger son, Evelvn only to discover that she really loves the elder, Harry. Finally she goes to him, and has a son, Robin. TlflHAiIS