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

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8 THE ROUND TABLE angrily out of the door of the club- room. As soon as 'he reached his home, Jones tumbled into 'bed. He lay there for some time brooding over his mis- fortune of the evening. “Yes,” thought Jones, “I’d rather die than live without money, even if I did go to the warmer regions. Oh, well, guess I’ll try to go to sleep, I feel rather ill.” Suddenly he shivered convulsively and lay still and rigid. Then, a very queer thing happened to Jones, al- though it did not seem odd to him. He found himself or his spirit, (he did not know which) standing by his bed- side, looking at the Thing which had once been himself. Then, he began to fall through space. Down—down— down—went poor Jones. It seemed he would never stop. When he finally did stop, it was in a dark, gloomy place, a short distance from a black cavern, from which fire and a horrible black smoke issued. He did not want to enter the cavern, but he was drawn slowly to it, as by a magnet. He was forced to enter, terribly afraid, hearing a confused mixture of shrieks, moans, and prayers for forgiveness. He then found himself in a large place which seemed to be all on fire. In the center, stood Satan himself, grinning as if en- joying it all hugely, all the while en- couraging a horde of small imps. These servants of Satan circled about their new victim, pinching and prodding him with their tiny pitchforks. “A new one! Master, a new one! ” they cried in glee. Satan looked at him; “Your turn will come soon,” he said maliciously, and continued to torture the con- demned. Many and terrible were the tortures thus devised. The poor victims were first slung on Satan’s great pitchfork, and thrown into a black pit, in the bottom of which, were lizards, snakes, toads, and spiders. Then they were taken out, and beaten on all parts of their bodies with spiked clubs. After that they were made to stand in a fire. Directly from the fire, the condemned were pushed into a pool of water, in which great pieces of ice floated. They were then hung to the top of the cav- ern by means of fastening a row of hooks in the flesh of their shoulders. From there, they were thrown into the pit of reptiles, and the same tortures began once more. Suddenly, poor Jones, his eyes dilat- ed with terror, saw Satan approaching him, his pitchfork extended, and grin- ning horribly. Nearer and nearer, Satan moved, slowly but relentlessly towards him. Just then Jones woke up, trembling, and with a splitting headache. “No more Zenida Club for me,” 'he said through chattering teeth. And later, as he was dressing, “What a nice world it is after all!” J. T. L, 73. -------o-------- MAGIC IN THE WAR (Rewritten from a story in an old Cue; Albany Academy) The great audience was hushed and awed! Jean Nole’, the great ven- triloquist, had at last returned to the stage after having served in the War with the A. E. F. and later having traveled in Europe. It had been four long years since his last appearance on the stage in New York and he, “The World’s Greatest Voice Thrower,” had been almost forgotten. But those of his

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THE ROUND TABLE 7 government. Helen was in the obser- ver’s seat and Dick had just started the engine when an orderly came up and said that the commandant desired to see him. As Dick went off, he called back to Helen to shut off the gas. As she climbed into the pilot’s seat to do as he had said, she thought “Why not surprise Dick by going up alone?” Ac- cordingly, she gave the plane sufficient gas and made a pretty jump off. When Dick came out to the field again and saw the plane circling overhead, he was more than surprised, he was scared stiff. He knew that although Helen knew something about flying, she was by no means an experienced aviatrix and furthermore she had never flown alone. Dick didn’t stop to think, he just acted! He ran to the hangar in which the new plane was being housed, wheeled the plane out, had the engine going, and was in the air almost in less time than it takes to tell. By this time all the men, not on duty, were watching to see what was going to happen. Slowly Dick rose until he was above the other plan, then 'he maneuvered until he was flying about ten feet above and a little in front of the other, at the «same time locking the controls and setting the landing device of his own plane. Those below saw him climb out onto the wing and then down onto the undercarriage. For an instant they saw him hang by the hands then drop into space. As he let go a cry was wrung from the lips of all on the ground, because at almost the .same instant that Dick released his hold, the other plane for some unknown reason headed straight up into the air. Death at that instant stared both Dick and Helen in the face, for if the propeller hit Dick, as it seemed it must, he would be cut to pieces, the propeller would be shattered and Helen, Dick, and plane would crash to the earth. Dick must have been born under a lucky star be- cause the propeller just missed him and as he fell, he felt something hit his arm. As he grabbed at it his hand closed around a bar. He held tight, although his arm was nearly yanked from its socket. He had caught hold of the undercarriage of Helen’s plane by some good fortune, lift was then a simple matter to climb into the observer’s seat and land the plane by means of the duplicate controls. Helen had fainted. That was probably the reason the plane had changed ibs course so suddenly. A little water and smelling salts soon brought her around and a few minutes later the other plane landed, guided by its automatic controls. —J. M. K., Jr., ’23. -------o-------- THE REFORMATION OF A PESSIMIST The Zenida Club had just finished its nightly game of poker. The men were lounging around, smoking and laugh- ing. All their jokes were directed to- wards poor Jones, who had just lost nearly a hundred dollars in the game. “Well, Jones, old sport,” said one of them, “You do look rather down in the mouth. What’s the matter?” “You’d feel just the same, if you were I,” said Jones. “Just lost my last cent and the old man won’t give me any more for two weeks. I wish I were dead!” he added bitterly. “Ah, but Jonesy, my boy,” laughed the other, “You’d have a hot time after death!” “Nothing could be worse than this,” growled Jones, as he flung himself

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FOOTBALL TEAM—1922 FOOTBALL SQUAD—1922