Richmond Hill High School - Archway / Dome Yearbook (Richmond Hill, NY)

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4 P A FIGURE COILED Margaret Oswald

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STARS Our garden is a heaven Filled with Bowers like the lights afar In the blue night-sky above us, Where each bright light is a star. Mary Seubert, '37 OPEN AIR CCNCERT The Moon, Surrounded by hundreds of twinkling stars, i Is smiling down on the audience underneath. A breeze, Light and gentle, Is caressing the cheeks of the listeners. The stage, A ball of blazing light Is the center of all eyes. A melody, Light and rhythmic Floating through the night, Assures a holy and serene mood. Emma Langlein, '34 A WINTER N161-IT The white fir trees stand straight and tall Like faithful entinels guarding all: 0'er the treetops, bleak and strong, Rings the North Wind's lusty song. In the silence of it all, Comes the screech owl's quivering call. While the moon, so round.and bright, Shines upon the sleeping night. Margaret Lesser, '37 THE SFNIOR DOME Page13

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SHE HUMBLY TAKES HER LEAVE IRMIA ZWERGEL, '36 Six o'clock. Lew Travers threw the evening paper Cwhose stark black headlines shrieked that Tony Gagalonobidanando had killed live policemen, and in consequence a dozen or so innocent bystand- ersj on the porch table, and entered the house sniffing expectantly for the culinary odors that should have been issuing from his wife's oh-so-modern kitchen at this hour-odors of beefsteak, of hot soup, of steaming plates of vegetables-substantial smells for a hungry man. None came. Only a faint suggestion of something sweet and sticky-a smell almost nauseating to him in his present positively- famishing state. Mabel? questioningly, as he proceeded to the so-called kitchen, in reality a marvel -in miniature. A figure coiled fthe word occurred to Lew as almost an inspira- tion as he peered into the apartmentj itself about a chair next to the porcelain table. It unwound itself and looked at Lew through half- shut eyes, Tallulah Bankhead style. . Then, langorously, Mabel isn't here, Lew. Mrs. Nea1's baby -fsqualling little brat-has-what do you call it?-yes, croup, and Mabel went over to see if she could do anything. I'm iixing some- thing for us. The unsmiling lips drooped to their customary down- ward curve, and the cooking at the table continued. This was Mabel's older sister, originally christened Jane, but long since changed to Jhaane-- So much less. . .p1ebeian. . . as she explained. At twenty-eight Jhaane was no more stenographer-or school teacher-or saleswoman-or home-maker-my no, she had PLANS. Acting, she would tell you, resting her chin on her carmen and silver-tipped fingers, is something as vividly alive as. . . as nature! Then, deprecatingly, but you wouldn't understand, I suppose. Yes, Jhaane had plans, plans in which subdued violet footlights, New York sign-lights, and the stirring love lights in the masculine eyes of Clark Gable, her future leading man, were rather confusedly blended. In the meantime, influenced by Mabel's earnest pleadings, Lew ted, clothed, and tolerated her, while Broadway and success were 'just around the comer: Mabel had stood in awe of her older sister when the latter was a finished product of a finishing school, and she a mere high school student. Perhaps- she still retained a little of this awe. Certainly she did not take Lew's pessimistic attitude in regard to her abilities. Lew ate his supper with little grunts of displeasure. We had lemon cheese an'-what was it?--polly-wog?-I beg your pardon- frog's legs last night, dear, he told Mabel at breakfast next morning, smiling ever so sweetly. ' THE SENIOR DOME Page15 X