Red Bank High School - Log Yearbook (Red Bank, NJ)

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There is plenty of work as well as pleasure. For each hour’s class work we are sup- posed to spend two hours in preparation, so that one is kept busy all the time. I would like to give you Red Bank people some advice, although you wont take it (as I know I never would have believed it last year), that is, study and work hard when you are in high school and you will find work much easier when you are in college. Last year I used to think that if 1 could bluff through my work without putting much time on it, I was that much better off. Now 1 regret that 1 had the wrong idea about school work. Every so often, flunk or warning slips are put in our postoffice boxes to let us know our standings. This is very helpful as it keeps us working and warns us when our grade is below standard. It is terribly nerve-racking to go to our boxes the days the slips are due. If we dont get one we can hardly believe it’s true, and we ask all our friends if they are sure the slips came out that day. Above the pleasure, above the work, above all, I admire the true Wilson spirit, that spirit which causes a girl to have high ideals, high aims in life; that which moulds the college girl into the college woman, thoughtful and considerate of others; and finally, that which makes a girl forget herself in the interest of others; all for one end—service, the true aim of every one’s life. The feeling of every Wilson girl toward her college can best be expressed by a stanza from one of our college songs: “For there is no place like Wilson, Though we search o’er land and sea, She is small but she is mighty And she’s wonderful to me. For her name is Alma Mater And we’ll ever stand as one, Firmly pledged to love and honor Till the sands of life are run.” —L. C. S» lOttcrarg. Where the Torrent First Broke Through. Our hero isn’t any greater than any other hero who has sacrificed his life that another might live, but we distinguish him from the others because official news comes over the water to us that he was the first to fall in the bloody cataclysm which swept Europe in 1914. In the Belgian Ardennes, not remote from Liege, there stands an ancient feudal castle, the Chateau de Modave, built in the early fifteenth century by Baron Guillaume de la Marck, the “Wild Boar of the Ardennes,” and the last of the Barons to oppose the French king. Later, in the sixteenth century, it fell into the possession of the Due de Montmerency (afterward Henry Second), and since then has returned to the hands of Guillaume’s descendants. It is a stately pile built on a rock which rises sheer from the valley below to a height of two hundred feet. Its original purpose was to serve as a stronghold; and probably as a fortress. It is one of the strongest, strategetically, in Europe. Its walls are seven feet thick, three sides being guarded by perpendicular rock and the fourth side, the entrance, by a fossee. A further obstacle to siege is a stream, the Oerth, which flows at the base of the rock. In regard to its towers, embattlements, bastions and dungeons, it is similar to other medieval castles. The Oerth, alive with trout, meanders through the forest land which stretches for miles around. These preserves abound with wild boar, deer, fox, quail and many other species of game, the hunting of which affords unlimited sport fo the occupants of the Chateau and their guests. Oh the evening in 1914, before the opening of the hunt for the wild boar, there were assembled at the Chateau de Modave five score guests, among them representa- 6

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a paper of credit to R. B. H. It is theirs to expect loyalty from all members of the school. May the Round Table this year reflect more fully the various school activities. Let it be better able to compete with other periodicals of its own class, and let each individual member of the school feel that this, his paper, is dependent upon him in every way for its present and future success. —S. G. S. Does This Main You? For ten years two chess players met daily at the club, silently took their places, silently played their game and silently took leave. For ten years another man sat near and looked on. One day one of the players was ill and couldn’t be present—for the first time in ten years. After waiting- a while his partner said to the on-looker, “My partner is not able to come today, will you play his men?” “I’m sorry,” replied the latter, “but I dont know the game.” He had followed every move of the partners for ten years but had failed to notice the motive for the game—had failed to reason why the game was played. This man had shown much patience in looking at the game but he had never looked into it. He had no curiosity. He was one of those who look without ob- serving and work without understanding. In business he would work without reasoning why others were working about him—seeing his superiors work but not observing their work—doing what they told him but never looking beyond—never learning anything. When his superiors offered him a higher position (thinking positively that he ought to know the work) he would have to say, “I’m sorry, but I dont know the game.” Are you going to be this man? Are you going through school seeing without observing and working without understanding? If you are, change your methods and begin at once to observe; understand what you are doing. Then when oppor- tunity for advancement conies you can say, “I am ready, I have learned the game.” —R. M. S., ’22. WILSON COLLEGE. No doubt the readers of “The Round Table” will be surprised to see an article by one of last year’s students; but I was asked to tell something about Wilson, and I am only too glad to speak its praises. Wilson College is situated in the heart of the Cumberland Valley, fifty-two miles south-west of Harrisburg and eighteen miles north of the Mason-Dixon line. The surrounding country is one of the most charming sections of Pennsylvania. From the windows of my room I can see the mountains, about which we love to sing, “The Kittatinny Mountain has arrayed herself in blue, and the valleys are all silver as they sparkle in the dew.” You see blue and silver are our college colors. The dominating spirit of the college here is the Odd-Even spirit; that is, the rivalry between classes graduating in odd years and those in even years. This feel- ing is most evident in games, such as hockey and basketball. Even though the games are between classes this odd-even spirit is bound to show itself. Conse- quently the first thing we were taught this year was to be good loyal odds. In no other college are the Freshmen treated with more consideration. Every- one is kind and thoughtful of them and each one does her best to keep the new girls from being homesick. I might say here that if anyone wants to know about home- sickness I can tell them all about it. Monday is our holiday instead of Saturday. Of course it was strange at first, but now I like it better, because the weeks seem to go more quickly and leave “Blue Monday” out altogether. Practically every Saturday and Monday evening there is a concert, reception, lecture or play to enjoy. Therefore, we have many opportunities to hear noted men. So far we have heard Dr. Spaeth of Princeton, Percy Grainger, the famous pianist, and Emil Talmanyi, the Hungarian violinist, who made his debut in America at Wilson college. Dont think, however, that college life is just one round of pleasure; not so. 5

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tives of the noblest families of Belgium. Women beautifully gowned and gracious of manner; men elegantly groomed and distinguished for their gallantry—old and young—all made a galaxy of splendor and refinement. In the banquet hall the guests sat at tables bedecked with gorgeous flowers and the finest linen and at which were served the choicest viands and wines. After the feast dancing commenced for the younger people in the ballroom, and the elder people either sat along the sides to watch the gay Terpsichoreans or repaired to an adjoining salon to gamble at cards. Standing apart, near an open window, were engaged in earnest conversation General Leman and the Scion of the Chateau in Charles. The youth, full of venture- some spirit, was attracted by the gold braid and stirred by the renown of the old soldier. After discussing the Servian agitation and its possible reaction upon all of Europe, the conversation drifted to the boar hunt of the next day. The General, a past master in the art of war and an enthusiastic hunter, was deeply impressed by the responsive chord awakened in the young Vicompte by their mutual interest in Mars and Diana. The youthful noble was boyishly grateful, there- fore, when General Leman promised that if he distinguished himself at the hunt the next day, he would make him his aide. As the Vicompte was an officer in the Garde Civique, he was qualified for the proffered post. The General was at that time sta- tioned at the Citadel of Liege, the first defense against an invading force. The two proceeded to the salon where the Comtesse, the Chatelaine of the Chateau, was occu- pied with some of the older guests, and acquainted her with the General’s promise. The mother’s deep love for her son made the thought of his departure repugnant to her, but she realized that the Vicompte would he in excellent hands and that if there should be an outbreak of war, it would be the part of loyalty and duty to make this sacrifice, and she thereupon gave her consent. The following morning presented a bustling scene at the old Chateau. All of the guests, full of excitement and expectation over the coming hunt, were eager to be on the ground. The hunt of that day was to be “en battu.” Scores of peasants were sent into the forest equipped with heavy staffs to beat off the bushes and to drive the wild boar before them into an open space where the animals would have to run the gauntlet between two parallel rows of hunters stationed in boxes which stretched along a distance of an eighth of a mile. The boxes on a side were sixty feet apart, and the boxes on one side were diagonal to those on the other. The width of the alley was a hundred and seventy-five feet. There were very strict rules to be observed by the sportsmen in order to prevent accident and to give the animal every chance. A gunner could fire only when the animal was directly in front of his box and could not make a quartering shot. He could shoot but once. If he missed, it was then the turn of the gunner in the next box on the opposite side. A wild boar is as ferocious as a tiger and more dangerous than a mad bull. It was such an animal that the General and the Vicompte were stationed in their boxes to shoot. The first boar came rushing madly through the alley-way almost unex- pectedly and passed the last box without being hit and disappeared into the forest. This was due not to lack of expert marksmanship but to the fact that the nimrods had not as yet steadied themselves. Several boar were finally killed, but the climax of the day’s sport was reached when a boar, wounded by the General, in its rage charged at its assailant. There was a foreboding lull on the part of the hunters and spectators. The Vicompte, who was in the next box, perceiving the imminent danger to the Gen- eral, rushed out, hunting knife in hand, to encounter the boar; this knife-to-tusk com- bat being a part of the sport requiring great nerve and courage. The boar then turned upon the challenger, and, as it made a vicious charge at the young man, the agile youth quickly sidestepped, at the same time deftly plunging his weapon into the heart of the beast. Needless to say, this act sealed the General’s promise to make the hero of the day his aide. Mars superseded Diana. The conflagration of war burst forth in middle Europe and its consuming flames sought to burn a path through Belgium into France. Liege, after its world-famed resistance and stubborn defense, was the first rampart to fall. 7