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

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A DESERT MYSTERY Outlined against the sun, setting behind an Arizona desert scene, was the silhouette of a a man dressed in the picturesque Western garb. He had a dirty gray sombrero pulled over his eyes to protect them from the flying sand and the glare of the passing sun. His pants were torn, worn, and tucked into his high runfdown shoes. The handkerchief around his neck was of the same color as the sky surrounding the sun. He was leading a tired but patient burrow carrying a light pack with no prospecting tools, showing that the wanderer was not led on by a search for gold. He glanced about him, and seeing the un' usual deepness of the red sky, knew that he was to suffer another dreaded desert storm. He found a small valley betweeen two small dunes and proceeded to unload his pack and protect himself as best he could from the fly' ing sand. About a halffmile away, another wanderer saw him make camp and quickened his step in order to have company before the storm broke. In a few minutes he had arrived there and the usual, Howdy, Stranger , the calm salutation of the desert passed between them. The storm broke, and a beating, driving, cutting sand drove them closer to each other for protection. After six hours the storm continued with unabated fury. To keep up their courage, they began to talk guardedly at first, but as the conditions of their com' radeship continued, they spoke more freely. The first told his story, of why he had come into the desert. He told of a brother of his, mercilessly killed two years before. His brother, Godfrey, had been showing a friend of his, his African collection. He, reading in the other room, had heard a heated argument, a brief silence, a shot, a scream and a crash of breaking glass. He rushed into the room and the friend had fled, leaving his brother with a shot through his lung. He had never seen the friend, but had heard that he had gone West. He had come out here search' ing for him. During the telling of this tale, his voice had become low, husky, trying to hide his emotion. A look at the other showed him to be astonished, turned to stone and staring into the darkness. At the completion of the story, he leaped to his feet and paced up and down. After a terrific struggle with himself, he planted himself directly before the other and spoke: Stranger, he said, for the past two years, I have wandered through this desert, trying to escape the past. I've been seeing the face of the man I killed accidentally. Now is my chance to get it off my mind, and at least live in peace for the little time I have to live In this storm we can never escape. Albert Howe, I killed your brother! Howe gathered himself into a ball and leaped at his throat. A terrific struggle ensued with Howe having the advantage, because of his two years' desire for revenge. He had the other by the throat. The stranger tore his hands from his throat and shrieked, Don't, Howe, it was accidental. I tell you the gun went off without my knowing it. I was un' familiar with the old trading guns and I Ered it accidentally. It was an accident. Man, don't you see that one who is about to die can't lie? How slowly loosed his grip and stood up. He walked slowly away, and drawing a blanf ket over his head, sat still. The stranger slowly arose and taking his own blanket, sat beside him. The storm continued for fortyfeight hours and finally broke, leaving as it had comef suddenly. A beautiful desert moon shone down upon two bodies, side by side. Richard Gainey LOW TIDE Wet sands, where the silvery waves have dashed- Glistening rocks, and the cry of the gulls As they sweep o'er the glitt'ring expanse- The moan of the winds and the gentle swish Of the endlessly moving waves. Nancy Reinke Page Twenty-four

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out doubt, air traffic will have become one of the problems of the day. The speed of machinery will be increased 89W. The world will have become a wonderful region of fly' ing wheels, shuttling pistons, whirring machin- ery-an everfchanging maelstrom of motion. The age of leisure will have become as ex' tinct as the dodo. The world will be held in the powerful grip of the age of speed. Humanity will be borne along despite itself in the stream of progress. Nancy Reinke How to Amuse Yourself While Waiting for the Traffic Light to Change It has been estimated that the time wasted in one week by people waiting for traic lights to change, equals the time still to be served by the combined inmate population of all our jails, including those in for violating the prohibition act. There is no reason why every motorist should not have a set of Harvard Classics tucked away, ready whenever the opportunity presents itself. Besides he could start for downdown in the morning, get caught in a few traffic jams and arrive at the office quite well educated. Hornfhonking is another way some folks have of amusing themselves when the lights are against them. Like yawning, it is conf tagious and soon spreads. While a traffic serenade has never been known to have the slightest effect on an automatic lighting sys' tem, it sometimes proves effective on one operated by hand. Making faces or casting looks upon the driver who has just cut in front of you is another way to pass the time when you pull up to him at the stop light. It is even possible to exchange pleasantries. Pedestrians, too, can find ways of entertain' ing themselves while waiting on corners for a break in the traffic. Red Rover is about the best game, and the last one over is it. The idea is, not to get tagged by a passing taxicab. Lucille Frescella MAN EATING CORN-ON-COB Bold, dapper man enters crowded restaur' ant and orders cornfonfcob. Order arrives. He butters and salt in small portions, holds daintily by finger tips and takes small bite with success. He glances about for signs of approval. Adds more butter and salt-larger bite. Very uncomfortable feeling between two of front teeth. Familiar sensation be' tween nose and upper lip. Hastily removes butter around the region of nose and deftly tries to remove corn from teeth while with- drawing napkin, but fails. Pauses for com- posure. Observe no one looking, so starts in boldly again. Goes through with operation of buttering. Tighter grip on cob. Trys for nice fat kernels near end-butter runs over fingers and down wrist. Becomes self conf scious and bites thumb. Cob falls, spatters blue suit with butter, rolls over lap and down floor. Purple face. Wipes off hands and wrists. Tries to remove spots from coat with napkin-ghastly results. Goes through agony of waiting for ten cent check. Expires in front of restaurant. Irene Miralia SORROWS The heart is blind to its winningsg The soul is deaf to its song, When nothing is ever wanting When nothing is ever wrong. Gladness brings not glory When the soul is never sad, 'Cause nothing ever needs righting When nothing ever goes bad. just take the grief with the living, The joy is not always the best. To the heart that has known no sorrow, Laughter is but a jest! Virginia Skelling Page Twenty-three

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REACHING FOR THE CLOUDS As one stands casually gazing up at one of New York's latest skyscrapers thinking of its beauty of arhcitecture and marveling at its height, one usually thinks of it not as the result of slow development, but as the marvel of this twentieth century alone. One never dreams that people centuries ago fancied such skyscrapers as those which now exist. But just as transportation has progressed from the stage coach to the railroad, so has the skyscraper been of slow development. Centuries and centuries back we are told in fables, legends and poems that the people of the ancient nations dreamed of erecting tall towers. For example, we have the Bible story of the Babylonians, who dreamed of a tower that would reach the heavens. People came from all over the known world to help in constructing it. There was the din of hammering stones, the babble of voices and strange tongues, and all the bizzarre of the East. Because of the lack of machinery and the incomprehension of the various strange languages the tower was never completed. This may be considered, however, as the first vision of the skyscraper. Some nations which had this desire to reach out into the clouds have left us monu' ments which contain their dreams and visions. Mysterious Egypt has left the Pyramids, ex' cellent examples of their engineering skill. In Greece the temples, such as the Parthenon whose grace and beauty still influence archif tccture are, are still standing. Rome has left the Colesium as a monument of her civilizaf tiong the middle ages-its castles and Gothic Cathedrals. But all these may be considered as part of the age of visions or legends. The people either dreamed of constructing enorf mous buildings or partially succeeded in doing so. Let due credit be given these former attempts, but let us remember that it is we, the people of the twentieth century, who have Hnally made the skyscraper a reality. That which was the fancy of yesterday is the reality of today. We have taken the various principles left by the countless ages and have combined them with the miraculous engineer' ing feats of today. The skyscraper incor' porates the setback or tower principle of the Pyramids, the grace of the Greek temples, the enduring quality of the Colesium, com' bined with this age's engineering skill. One of the iirst skyscraper marvels was the Woolworth building of New York. Since then New York has become a forest of sky' scrapers. In 1929 the Chanin building was erected but it held its supremacy as the tallest building in New York only for a short time. For in 1930 the Chrysler building sprang up even taller than the former two. In this same year Europe followed in the footsteps of the United States by constructing her first skyscraper in Antwerp, the twenty stories of which make it the tallest building on the Continent. It is especially noteworthy that Antwerp should be the first continental city to allow the construction of a tall commercial building, since it is one of the oldest cities on the continent. Then in the year 1931 among the hundreds of skyscrapers which were completed, there appeared one which will probably be rememf bered for many years to come as the tallest building ever erected by man. The Empire State building 1,248 feet tall, the highest structure in New York's forest of skyscrapers, is well fitted to be the Hnale in this reaching towards the clouds. With its 200 foot moorf ing mast, which is a unique feature of thc building, it connects with its only manfmadc rivals for soaring honors-airships. Whether this mooring mast is practical or not has yet to be proved. But it certainly is spectacular. One can easily imagine what a thrill passenf gers would get coming out of the nose of a Zeppelin and entering a slender tower a slender tower a quarter of a mile ahove the street. just as in former centuries people had the desire to raise their buildings into the air, so we have the tendency of raising our traffic into the air along with our buildings and reaching further into the clouds. In 1930 air traffic was quarupled as compared with that of 1929. And the culmination of this increase was expressed in the air maneuvers recently held throughout the United States. The earth has become so crowded, and traffic so Page Twenty-five