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

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16 THE ROUND TABLE he was gone. “A book?” asked Ruth as she took the bundle from Clovis’ arms. “I’ve always wanted to read ‘If Winter Comes’—“Book of Etiquette!' Why— “Yes,” he replied, “I am to be pre- sented at court, and I must know what to do.” He went on to tell her what had happened. “Hm, sounds funny to me,” she said. He picked up the book and read: When leaving the court, one must never turn his back on the king and queen, but must back out gracefully.” He laid the book down, and bowing low, retreated to the door, which he had left open, and without realizing where he was going, he kept on back- ing. Suddenly he reached the top of the stairs, his feet slipped from under him and the steps rose to meet his chin. “Clovis! did you miss the step?” Ruth ran to the head of the stairs. He groaned. “No, I hit every darn one of ’em.” Tuesday night found him at the cor- ner agreed upon, pacing anxiously back and forth. What if Powers should not come? Suppose—Oh, here he was now. “I see you are on time,” said Pow- ers, smiling. “That is well. Come.” And he took our hero by the arm. “Not so fast there, Jim,” said a voice behind them, and Clovis’ com- panion was seized by the collar. “What does this mean!” roared Powers, “Do you know who I am? I’m Chief Advisor to the King, and I’ll—” “Oh yes, and last time you were Napoleon’s long lost brother. Come on, Jim, back to St. Anne's asylum for yours.” Clovis dashed home. “Ruth,” he cried, “pack our grips, we leave for France on the next boat!” (To be continued) By E. V. H. ’25. --------o------- We read in the last issue of the “Round Table” the statement that Latin is a dead language studied for use in the after world. We could never allow this statement to go unchallenged, and we feel called upon to make a few observations upon the subject. Anyone who has ever studied Latin does not think it is dead. On the contrary, the person himself is likely to be dead after a few weeks of study. If Latin is a dead language, who killed it? Let us now consider a few facts in reference to history: Cicero, Caesar, and Virgil all spoke Latin. Where are they today? Dead! Latin was too much for them. It is not the language which is dead, but the people who have tried to speak it. This proves that Latin is not a dead language, but a deadly one. Besides, Latin is always useful. Look at John Wilkes Booth. After he shot Lincoln, if he leapt to the stage and shouted, “Die doggone ya,” or, “Heh! Heh! I have meh rahvenge”, it would not have been nearly so ap- propriate as “Sic Semper Tyrannis.” This illustration shows another great reason for studying Latin. We have it from unauthentic sources that one mil- lion per cent of all the pupils who take up Latin do so for the purpose of studying out what “Sic Semper Tyran- nis” means. Most people think that Booth had a dog by the name of Tyrannis, and he was trying to “sic” him onto someone in the audience by the name of Semper. W. M. T., ’26.

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THE ROUND TABLE 15 manner You must eat at a little table by yourself. You are disgraced and cannot eat with us until you do as papa tells you.” “Papa should practice what he preaches,” put in Ruth. Mr. Loso favored her with an icy stare. So it was that a certain little boy sat down alone at a table placed at a far end of the room. For a long time he sat with head bowed, and Clovis, thinking him to be crying, softened and said, “What’s the matter. Junior?” The curly head popped up, “Noth- in’, I’m just saying a little verse I learned in Sunday School.” “Good for you! Let’s hear it,” our hero replied. Junior folded his hands and droned in a sing-song voice: “Thou prepar- est a table before me in the presence of mine enemies.” Then he dived under the bed. “You little rogue. I’ll spank you good for that.” “You’ll do nothing of the kind,” said his wife, “you ought to be glad one member of the family has a show of intelligence.” After dinner, Clovis piled the dishes on a tray, and going to the other side of the room, said, “Ruth, there’s no use ringing for the boy. I’ll just put these in here.” He opened a door and put in the tray. Crash! From far below came a faint tinkle of broken crockery. “Clovis! Where did you put those dishes?” “On the dumbwaiter I guess,” he replied weakly. “Dumbwaiter by that door,” he said again. “Dumbwaiter! Why you silly! This isn’t New York. That’s an airshaft.” Exit Clovis to soft music. “And poking the revolver in the pit of the villain’s stomach: ‘Utter one word,’ he said, and I’ll blow out your brains.” “What??!” Ruth stopped, speech- less, “Is this another story?” Clovis threw down the pencil in dis- gust. “Yes, if you must know!” he roared, “but how can I work with a woman like you around? I’m going!” For several hours he wandered thru the streets of London, and finally en- tered a hotel in search of the cup that cheers. At the end of the bar stood a tall, distinguished looking man, who kept eyeing him closely. Finally he edged up the bar close to our hero, and whispered gravely, “The great Poet?” Clovis looked at him in amazement. How had his fame spread so quickly? “Loso,” he stammered. “Yes, yes,” said the other, “John Loso.” “No—Clovis.” “Oh—my mistake. Well, I am— “here,” he paused to look furtively around. “We cannot talk here,” he whisper- ed, “Come outside.” “Now,” he said, when he had Clovis alone, “I will tell you who I am, you see. Now before you stands Stanley Powers, chief advisor to the king of England.” Our hero gasped. “And I have a plan to propose to you. Ed. is looking for a poet laure- ate, and I feel certain that you are the very man we want.” “But,” protested our hero, “why should you do this for me?” “Because I see that you are an un- usual man. Now remember, meet me here at 6:30 P. M. Tuesday, and I will present you to the king.” With that

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THE ROUND TABLE 17 ALUMNI NOTES Again I have been asked to submit an article for the Alumni department of The Round Table. I comply most willingly, not because I will see my name in print, but because it gives me another opportunity to thank those who have made it possible for thou- sands, including myself, to enjoy the advantages offered by the Red Bank public schools. Because of the intelligence and rec- titude of those who have been fore- most in Red Bank’s public school ac- tivities, expenditures of money, time and endeavor have produced results which are the envy of other cities and this has been brought about without unreasonably burdening our taxpayers. It would be ungrateful indeed not to recognize and give thanks for the beneficence of our public school sys- tem. One has only to visionize the school room of a few years ago to comprehend that no real advance is made without sacrifice, that something for nothing is not the rule of life and that where progress is made it neces- sarily couples with it a cost, either in energy or money and many times both. When a visitor to our public schools views the comfort which surrounds him he is quite apt to conclude too quickly that there is quite some waste of money and effort and that the cost of pro- gress is extravagence. Yet, if we per- mit our minds to revert to the lesson of the class room we know that where there is an effect there must be a cause and that the law of averages will prove correct. There are problems still to be met in providing adequately for the educa- tional requirements of our growing community but no one conversant with the character of our citizenship will doubt its capacity to carry on. Every member of the alumni of the Red Bank public schools owes a debt of gratitude to our school system and should willingly lend aid to further advance the welfare of the community through our educational institutions. Faith in the future was recently ex- pressed by the voting of several thou- sands of dollars for additional school room which will be another monument to our higher life and to the advance- ment of civic ideals. No place looks forward with more confidence and a deeper realization of her destiny than Red Bank. Our school system will advance in propor- tion to the willingness of our people to give and strive in order to be recom- pensed in later years with the satis- faction of achievement. Thomas Irving Brown, Class 1897. The proof reader on a small Middle Western daily was a woman of great precision and extreme propriety. One day a reporter succeeded in getting into type an item about “Willie Brown, the boy who was burned in the West End by a live wire.” On the following day the reporter found on his desk a frigid note asking, “Which is the West End of a boy?” It took only an instant to reply: “The end the son sets on, of course.”