Rye Neck High School - Scraps Yearbook (Mamaroneck, NY)

Page 10 text:

Poetry SCPLAPS Scraps of this and scraps of that Are what make our paper fat. Here a poem about a rose, Here one onvtihe Winter snows, Here an essay, here a play, To read it through, it takes a day. Besides, its contents are worthwhile, Even though-now don't you smile- Even though we are .quite young, We shall JIOE 4stay'for.long, unsung. ' Our masterpieces -will lamfound, I Andtravelers 'the worldsfaround '- Will iind, in Halls of Fame, perhaps- A . The authors of some old, old Scraps.7' 'f' 1 I -J - as ssiefbea IR. H'a1Ighf0n,'clJ?T WINGS OF MORNING f Slowly and silently Q The silveryfwiiigs of' morning In H Uaafoldsthemselves, To reveal a new day. The glorious sun K, , ' Sends his golden sentinels over the top. The-f1e54'fEfEf'tfIe still as iglidsrsg' ' Even the breefe gstirs not-4 I The morning birds have V ' They are telliiig their 'story tot thiexworldzi ' t'9A'wake, be glad, iiiejoicef li, Day is here. ' H ' ' Francis Beecheil . - SIPRJNG 37 When certain deepest stirrings Enliven the earth's aged crust Of dull brown hardness With a coat of hopeful green, , And Phoebus, slant shafts ii ii Rent asunder' the spongey sky Into myriad tuftsof floatimrgdown That swim in- liquid blue, --,:e . . -A And all l'liUUl16'lFFLClO3lSS herfwintry self' ' I To break forth into the livelier dance of Spfinggl- , - i5.Iw..-'4.Tf's - ri T'is youth of thi'n'gs1-refbom -that draws he? magig fingelzg -1 ., ' .. .3 .. O'er all this ilow'ring'l'2f3:fth., . ' I Judson Benjamin WINTER NIGHT Through the crisping winter air I mount unseen to some high place. Far down below me I see the town I Barely sketched in the last rosy lightil Encircling night presses' down A i Around, about me as some blind 'unseen fear. Bewildered, I turn my eyes' above To where stars, glihteiiihig iini the idark heavens, - 'F Taunt me to snatch -them, to scatter them, That their gaudy gold may illumine my homeward path.. , 'F A ' Edith Iyieyer . fNf ': . f' ' THE'CLOGK' I Like endless song, , ,Q The mbdeiea 'slack X l , Glides ,from sad to gayxi ,. Those figured, hands,-B Are music b'zfi'Ids H 1 .. ii - That tick an eifdiess fsiinligiay' A With rhymic, gait H xpbv r A They go ahead, r , , s, Like meri who scheme arid plan. At Ei:NCl'1'vidHY,S end, They're backaagain, Back where they began. A N ' ,Victoria Maxwell , wal- .I .' ,I '--- -1 . . THE WOODS I' Under aigreen cloud supportedi'by ,brown pillars, V 1. Wild animalsiplay about on a green Ncarpet. They are free and happy, They do notrknow fear, , l X N, If you wanftdiliseie lliie a' mode, E Go to the woods. A I' I I' James Fee 'AT 'DAWN T , 1 A myriad of shining lights along the shore Flicker against lthepyelvet- sky, , Till, in a burst ofqrosy glow The sun arises. p H . I Then fade the flickering lamps, . .V Capricious breezes die ,... And stately palms' stand motionless, Against the golden sky. I1 - - 1 ' Doris Offermann Page Eight

Page 9 text:

lt is so impressive. I reckon that it is the reason for the establishment of such a sting' ing punishment for childhood offenses. As a matter of fact, the lessons which I remembered most readily were the ones which were accompanied by their worthy partners, spankings. Since I can well remember two lessons, one can-conclude that I have had in all, two spankings, which-were warm enough to be remembered. The 'first spanking was to rid me of the habit which I had made, never to be willing to leave an afternoon party at the time the maid came for me. The second spanking taught me not to associate with cerf tain children when I had been forbidden to do so. This lesson belongs to the far reach' ing subject of disobedience. And .so later in life, the real lessons are taught by radical means. An ofhce boy real' izes how badlyhe wants to hold his second job only after he has lost the first one. There's a spanking hefll never forget. in 1-gi Jeanne Egger 'NEWS When we see the word news we generf ally associate it with reporters, because of the simplereason that if there are no reporters there could be no news for it would he ancient history by the time it 1'C3ChEd.ilIl'1C public. 4 Since early times reporters have done their utmost to get a scoop and bring the news before the public, The most famous reporter of early times in this country was Paul Revere although heaused a different method to get the news to the public than is generally connected with -reporters. The radio is a new means to getting news but it will never supplant the newspaper and even in this field we End reporters. Floyd Gibbons, famous war correspondent, used this method of broadcasting news and in a more forceful and interesting way than can ever be found in the column of a news' paper. V The news must get to the public as fast as possible and since early times reporters, al' though they were not considered as such then, used the fastestpossible means of get' ting the news to the people. - - , - john Donnelly NEWS Speed is the watchword of today, espef cially with the American people. The people, industrious, everything goes humming along at a high rate of speed. News, nct to be outdone, uses every convenience at hand to make its way around the world. When one receives news today, either through newspapers, letters, telephone, tele- graph, cable or even wireless, it .is hard to realize how slowly news formerly traveled. Now, the premier events of the world are brought into our very home by the news' papers delivered early in the morning by a newsfboy and served, with breakfast as part of the meal like the cup .of codec or ham and eggs. - Formerly news took days, weeks and even months to travel. In America, when the thirf teen colonies were English possessions, it took several vessels to cross, the Atlantic ocean and bear news to and from the Colon-ies,.and Eng' land, the mother country. . . - To the cosmopolitan lifeathat is lead every' where tcday, except in the very primitive countries, news is the pulse, the heart and the blood that' keeps the world moving. XVithout the dreary impulse of news and -the search for it, the world today would lwefvery much the same as it was hundreds of years ago, each one living within one's own little sphere of activity and knowing nothing or cafring nothing about what went on outside of it. Doris Offermann BLACKBOARTD ERASERS When one enters a sehoolroom hc does not at once notice a very important piece of equipment. It is one that plays an im' portant part in school work and yet goes un- praised. This piece of equipment becomes white with dust and then receives beating for its excellent work. Q The blackboard eraser has never been or never will be glorified as has been the Amer' ican girl. It is destined to hold its lowly but useful place. It has erased failures,Aremoved announcements which have served' their purf poses and has miiced them together forming a white dust, the symbol of things gone by. , . A Raymond Clarke Page Seven

Page 11 text:

ROADS TO ROAM It is fine to stay at home, And to sow and wait and reap, But for me, the roads to roam- Rather I, to sail the deep. Not a stirring epic, laid On a gory battle field, A far road, 'neath bristling shade, Rather I, of fir, concealed. Or the cloudfgazed redwoods high To my path, the rambling ways Of the South, from brazen sky To lend shelter. joyous days! Ere the roving lust has ceased, Off to icefstrewn Arctic's storm, To the gulfweed, and deceased Of Sargasso's haunted calm. To grow old, 'tis fine, at home In quiet till the last long sleep, But for me, the roads to roam- Rather I, to sail the deep. Judson Benjamin , MY HEAv'N HOME Oh cottage by the boundless sea, How tirm you stand, how cozily You're nestled back to welcome me When I'm ashore, For when away, I think of thee Still more and more. I think of friendships thou hast known, Those friendships started, bred, and grown Within thy walls of ivied stone, Beside thy hearth, And 'neath thy bowers so gently blown Above the earth. And then I'm sad that I'm away, I pine and wish that I might stay With thee until the end of day When life is done, And happiness of heav'n betray New life begun, Herbert R. Houghton, jr. PROMISES OF SPRING The Winter casts are bursting now, And buds do peep from out each bough, While brooks and swollen rivers wide Do rush their way to meet the tide. And robins perched on leafless limb Chant to the sun their morning hymn. ' Francis Beecher TO A CAT'S EYES Deep, wonderful pools of living green, In your depths is the smouldering fire Of Hate, Envy, Anger and Love. The ancient Priests of Egypt worshipped you, Calling you sacredw You turn your head, Those glowing emeralds shine upon us, You make us feel your presence, Give you our love, . You give us nothing . But those two glowing spots of light. Edward Pratt SOUTHLAND Oh! to be on the road for the Southlandf And breathing the air of the sea! Oh! to be gazing at blue sunny skies, And wandering, wandering free! Down South where the blue grass is waving, And the trees are whisp'ring in June, And the birds are happily singing, And one dances along to their tune. Not happier I than when roving along On roads to the Southland, heart singing a song! Audrey Hare THE FEVERfFAIRY The FeverfFairy sits upon my brow, Her hands are cold and chill, And thru my limbs, yet weaker now, Soft creeps a strange and deathlike still. It is the breaki-ng of a colder dawn, The Fever'Fairy I have wed- But she has risen now and gone, For I am cold and dead. Judson Benjamin Page Nine I