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

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A Publication by and for the Students of NEW UTRECHT HIGH SCHOOL Vol. XVII February, 1932 No. 2 CONTENTS 0 SHORT STORIES THE GOOD DEED ..................,................................................................... JOSEPH GREENSPAN STRANGER TO THE WORLD ........ HERMAN KLEINI-IENZ ESSAYS IN AN ARTIST, IT WOULD BE TEMPERAMENT ........... CHARLES DEVLIN NIGHT .....................,.,............ DAVID IGNATOW SPECIAL FEATURES PRO VIRIS LITTERATIS ..............,.,....... .................................................,., POETS CORNER ....................... SPORTS ....,.........................,.. SCHOOL NOTES .I,...,... CLASS PROPHECY ......,.. HALL OF FAME ......,.. SENIOR EDITORS ....,,...... CLASS OF JAN. '32 ......... CLASS WILL .................. THIRTY-TWO's 32 ......... AUTOGRAPHS .................. CLASS CELEBRITIES ........ ALUMNI .............................. GROUP PICTURES ......... HUMOR ...................... . 13 12 I5 17 22 28 29 30 31 67 68 70 72 75 88 Five

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DEDICATION Jtliss Jtfiriczm H ersbkowitz WE, the Class of january 1932, sin- cerely dedicate this issue of the Comet to Miss Miriam Hersh- kowitz, newly appointed Head of the History Department, in token of our appreciation of her services as Head of the Economics Department.

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joseph greenspan E night air was sting- ingly cold. The snow fell slowly, silently covering the streets and the stoops of the houses and the window ledges with a virgin whiteness. The brightly lighted windows were gaily garnished with mis- tletoe and red wreaths. It was Christmas Eve and cheer per- vaded the atmosphere. Not so in the heart of Mathers who trudged through the almost deserted streets. He had expected to purchase some holiday clothes with a long anticipated bonus, but Mr. Watkins, his employer, did not hand out the customary Christmas checks. He did, however, place his arms akimbo and very heartily wish them a very merry Christmas. Also, he reminded them that they would have to work half a day to-morrow, Christ- mas. Tired after his full day's work, Ma- thers plodded his way home. AN elderly man, arms full of packages, muffler flying, his face flushed and happy, brushed past Mathers. Merry Christmas, he said, and scampered on his way with alacriry. Mathers smiled bitterly, a merry Christ- mas. No time for holiday for him, he'd have to work to-morrow. He shook his head sad- ly. Life had dealt harshly, unjustly with him. He had nothing but sorrow and none with whom to share it. Of course, the man hastened homeward. His family and friends were waiting for him thereg a merry group to welcome him home with good wishes. There was no one waiting to welcome him, Mathers, at his home, a little musty room in a slovenly boarding house. The landlady no doubt, will cast an annoyed glance at him as he enters and perhaps wish Szx THE GOOD DEED him, in her shrewish manner, a merry Christmas. She will cer- tainly remind him that his rent is due on the first. It would be a happy holiday if his brother Clyde was with him. They would talk about old times, go out for a good time and get drunk. When Mathers had last heard from his brother, Clyde was in a Western prison. That was five years ago, he must be free now. What if he were wait- ing for him in his room now? Mathers be- gan to walk rapidly, almost run. Then he paused and shook his head hopelessly, Clyde did not know where he lived. MATHERS had no desire to go to his stuffy room. Nothing awaited him there but loneliness. This evening, when everyone was supposed to be cheerful and happy, he felt sad and disheartened. A chill clamminess was in his heart. He decided to go to the park and look at the great Christ- mas tree, gaily decorated with colored lights that flashed on and off. AS he entered the park, the snow began to fall more rapidly than before. An oppressive hush, magnified by the distant rumble of the elevated trains, seemed to set- tle around him. Mathers gazed at the tree in silence. He was awed by the grandeur of the great tree with its many-colored lights blinking in the white stillness, the giant sky- scrapers barely defined through the falling snow. Into his simple heart the inexplicable sublimity of the scene seemed to instill a warmth he had never known before. Mathers leaned against the iron rail and slowly shut his eyes . . . god, how tired he was . . . to-morrow he would have to work