Newark School of Fine and Industrial Art - Fawcett Yearbook (Newark, NJ)

Page 69 text:

POEMS PANSIES THERE IS NO SYSTEM He stalks into the office With cigarette alight, With nostrils wide distended, He looks right in and cries “There is no system.” The students talk too loudly, Much more than they do work, II tell you, and not proudly, I’m 'fraid they sometimes shirk— “There is no system.” [ looked out of my window, Such a sight 1 saw! Walking in my garden; Old ladies by the score. They all wore velvet bonnets, Colored blue and gold, Some appeared in purple; Twas lovely to behold. They're putting blue on green now, And also black on white; Their left arms they are using Instead of using right, “For there is no system. Their faces were so tiny, I could scarcely see Their quaint little features; Whoever could they be? He teaches us with system, To work when we are in; When we are out its different, We work with gust and vim, “For there is no system. Now, Mr. Cimiotti, Why not start up there? And skip around the classroom Instead of at each chair? I think “There is no system.” The wind was softly blowing To and fro that day, Making them all curt'sy In an old-fashioned way. [ ran out to my garden, But when I got there, I found only pansies— And all they did was stare! Now if you will reform, sir, The school will change its way, And you will have no earthly need To ever, ever say Nona O«vens Campen. “There is no system.” -Á pem GOOD-BYE, DEAR OLD FAWCETT Words and Music written by Eugene A. Burkes and DEDICATED TO THE PRINCIPAL AND FACULTY of the Fawcett School of Industrial Arts Newark, New Jersey Fawcett, dear Fawcett, Oh! how we love thy name, Through storms and sunshine, Some day we'll bring Thee fame, You righted every wrong, Now you cheer us with a song, So good-bye old Fawcett, Remember that we love Thee so long. Fawcett, dear Fawcett, Painted in every heart, Brilliant in colors, Craven to never part, Aiming to reach the sky, As we leave we breathe a sigh, So good-bye old Fawcett our dearest friend, God bless you, Good-bye.

Page 68 text:

POSTER CONTESTS Corrine Nosher Rose Сехе1 THE STRAIGHT PATH TO THINNESS! How we keep thin? It's simply We go to Fawcett School. We work all дау, We never play, We keep to every rule. We eat some lunch—not very much Some crackers and a nut, A bit of cake, For goodness sake! | 1 Ап apple thinly cut. Museum calls us after We sketch until it's dark, We get home tired, Ambition fired ! We're thin! It's quite a lark! D. D. G. n Ostermann erte Geschke ‘Iron rusts from disuse, even so d sap the vigor of the mind and one’s talent who do not understand themsel › artistic Calling s irom ven to serve as a diversion to th ho ехет It postulates and exacts life and know! and work, for art is a form of life, forth by the imagination, } BL. ol piritual life, brought bound and delineated by the work he hands for the advancement of mankind. Leonardo Da Vinci (1452-1519) every one that hath used his talents shall š a š : riven and he shall have abundance, but from nto be him that hath not used them, even that which he Matthew X XV :29. hath, shall be taken away.

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THE SATURDAY CLASSES They stream in on Saturday morning, the babies of our school; faces aglow, eyes alight with the flair of ardor; restless, impatient to start the fascinating work which has lured them away from their play. They rush to their chosen work with the zest of the real enthusiast. Whether 1t be still-life, freehand drawing, modelling or any of the other branches, the same intensity is shown. Fortunate children! Ever making progress, they soon qualify for entrance into the advanced classes, and become Master-craftsmen. E. L. M. AND SO—WE TEACH! Big boys, big girls—little boys, little girls are all helping to pack our Saturday morning classes so full that the walls have actually been seen to bulge several time s this past winter. Indeed, it is quite impossible for the instructors to handle these groups adequately—and our graduation class was called upon for help. About ten girls nobly responded to the call and Miss Marquart installed two girls with each large group—to assist the very capable teachers. What splendid training we are receiving and what really helpful hints our co-teachers give us. We are entering the sacred halls of teacherdom—and a little of the wonder and joy of helping children to see the “beautiful” is recompense indeed. 12.19, С. THE SATURDAY AFTERNOON OIL PAINTING CLASS There is real cause for rejoicing among the all-around artists of Fawcett A Saturday Afternoon Oil Painting Class has been formed. Here adult students may work under the guidance of the dear Prof who Knows! Truth to tell, this new class is a bit big. It is getting positively unwieldy. It is so popular that one becomes convinced that Saturday afternoon cannot be a holiday aíter all. It must be a regular work-day. No? Well, just look at them work! It's not work? Weil, then, Saturday must be a holiday. Hurrah for holidays when we can work on our hobbies. ORIGINAL DESIGNS [WE ЕУ ` CUTAND PRINTEDIN FOR WOOD CUTS ЮЕШ — ASATURDAY CLASS