Oakfield Alabama High School - Oracle Yearbook (Oakfield, NY)

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O Adloupit Yourself IEQVE a friend named Bill. Of course, it is not unusual to have a friend by is common name but Bill is a remarkable fellow. E h U I n . thingsvigrsigfri he was knee hlgh to a Grasshopper , people predicted great had Eggexgogifdgggfilllitigifvith the highest honors in his class, we all thought he But somehow he hasn't landed. Bill says it is because he hasn't had the breaks. But perhaps if you followed him around for a day you would have a differ- ent theory. Bill has ideas about the way things should be done. They're clever ideas, far more clever than the average chap's. There's no doubt that if Bill had been God he would have been a humdinger. But Bill isn't God. Nor are his ideas the only ideas in the world. They are in constant competition with an enormous mass of other ideas, most of which are rather careless and sloppy. For carelessness and sloppyness William has no use. He won't tolerate it-he won't compromise with it. He wants things done in his excellent way or not at all. As a consequence they're not done at all. No one man, however brilliant, can monopolize the whole arena or direct the Whole show. Bill's career, like that of many other people, is being frustrated because he hasn't learned that fundamental law of adaptability. Adaptability is the secret of physical as well as mental evolution. Life on this planet has undergone terrific changes and upheavals. Ages and intense heat and intense cold, continual wetness, perpetual drought. Animals survived those changes not by their great strength but by their ability and willingness to adapt themselves to change. The infinitely remote animal ancestor from which man probably came was a tiny mammal hardly bigger than a rat. It survived the terrific ice age by growing hair which would repel the cold, and by modifying its habits. The great reptiles, who had lorded it over the world before the ice cap came down, did not survive. They had both brains and brawn, but they couldn't change their ways. So Evolution went on and left them behind. No matter how important you are, you are only a small cog in the enormous mechanism of life. You will get nothing out of that mechanism for yourself unless you adapt yourself to the other cogs. Whether you like it or no , you of other beings. ' I l 1 Their necessity is your necessity-their opportunity is your opportunity. James Sinclair. t r fate is enmeshed with the lives of millions Twenty-seven --lun, .

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- 0 . Why! What was that in that second story window? He rubbed his eyes. Was it possible? Yes, it was true. Up there in that window was the figure of a little child, its face filled with fear and the hope of rescue. The boy thought wildly, Why doesn't someone who is not afraid go to her aid? But nobody stirred. Again the thought of the firemen flashed through his brain, but they had made a mistake answering the wrong alarm. Suddenly there was seen to issue from the crowd a youth who Without hes- itating ran into the burning building. A hush! The crowd waited. A few minutes later two figures were seen in the window, then disappeared. He had got to her but could he return? In the boy's head different thoughts raced as he fought his Way through the smoke and fire-filled rooms, shielding the little girl. Why, he didn't feel afraid now! A feeling of responsibility rested upon him. He must save the child. A cheer rose from the street, hundreds of hands reached out to aid them, the boy and child. The burning building suddenly collapsed into flaming ruins. But he had won. Florence Caleb, Eng. IV. A Northern lbullke In the cool of an early morn, Like a smooth sheet of glass You lay stretched out in sleep, Revealing your inmost soul. The sun rose from your depths And transformed you to gold. You awoke, and sighed with reproach, Ruffling your surface, Obscuring your soul. The day wore on-your placid blue, Tipped with snow-white caps, Gave you a festal air. 'Gainst the horizon a boat plied by, Leaving a ribbon of smoke behind. Once, menacing clouds Turned blue to sullen gray. The sun sank into your depths, Leaving a path of reddish gold Over your peaceful, quiet waves. Mysterious, glowing with light, Refiecting the stars and the moon, . .1 You slept through the night. ' .-if. . .,l ' Ruth Hackley, Twenty-sig'

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0 Houses What do houses harbor? A heartache,-a lover? No one knows As he walks along What things lie behind those walls. Maybe an artist, A teacher, A dancer, Or even a student, Writer, Or worker, All with their joys, Heartaches, - And troubles. I But the gay-colored houses as I pass along Show it not Nor add a sound To the midnight- air. Helen Haxton, Eng. II. l Soiuntlliiceirml Adventure NE glaring, hot dusty afternoon, a small, rickety Louisiana train pulled up to a tiny platform, and, although exhausted after its journey, whistled shrilly in two rather short puffs and jerked to a stand-still, awakening the only person visible. A young man, obviously a gentleman by his dress, stepped from the one passenger car, carrying two brief-cases, and a small satchel. Then the train puffed on again leaving the two men looking curiously at one another. My name is Delton, could you tell me how to get to the nearest store? inquired the stranger, a tall, young looking man with stooping shoulders and an academic, city-worn air. I want to get some camping equipment and provi- sions. The native yawned, stretched, and having supplied the necessary informa- tion, immediately proceeded to fall asleep again. Seeing that it was uselessto obtain further help, the stranger started down the dusty road. which he had been shown. If I can only find that orchid the name of Professor Delton will find its place in scientific circles. ' On the same afternoon, another person was traveling along a road. A light wagon, drawn by an ancient looking horse, moved slowly in the hot sun. Piled in the back were various bundles one of which like af tent, rolled up. In the wagon was seated a tired, discouraged but looking gentleman. This gentleman was no less a Blythe, known the country round for his enormous in fact, the motive for the Colonel's journey. His the point where it was a case of either paying his debt fun' down plantation which the Blythes had owned for was unthinkable, some miraculous means ml1S be former, and the Colonel thought he had found. 'Diventy-eiglgt, X