Schuylerville Central School - Schuyler Yearbook (Schuylerville, NY)

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CJu' 3«u:0r “The Junior Prom!” Even Ilie walls of old South Street High seemed to echo the words as the students made their plans. As Daphne and Ruth separated, Daphne said gaily, “I’ll see Bob in history class this morning.” In history class, the last period before noon, Daphne scribbled a note and handed it to Bob. He read it and smiled, “I’ll see you at noon, Daphne.” As the girls were leaving at noon, Bob joined them and said, “Daphne, that’s a piping idea. I’m going to ask Mary Lou today to go to the Prom with me.” The girls giggled but Bob added, “Of course I won’t take her. You know, Daphne, you’re going with me.” Laugh- ing, the three separated for their homes. They were going to enjoy this joke on poor little Mary Lou who was sweet but strangely unpop- ular. On bis way back to school, Bob, seeing Mary Lou ahead of him. hastened his steps and overtook her. “Hello there, Mary Lou,” he greeted her. “Hello Bob, how was the Latin test?” “Xot so hot,” Bob answered as he fell into step beside her. “Say, Mary Lou,” lie began after a moment of silence, “will you go to the Prom with me?” Mary Lou looked at him questioningly, then replied, “Why Bob, I’d love to.” So the “date” was made. The days slipped quickly by and Bob walked home occasionally with Mary Lou. She was working after school, to earn money for the beautiful green and silver lacy tiling at Carton’s, the most exclusive shop in the city. Somebody else was admiring that dress, too. Daphne was going to have it. One day, a week before the Prom, Mary Lou entered Car- ton’s and made her purchase. That evening Daphne, coming for the dress, was told, “It’s just gone.” She was stunned! Who could have bought it? All the girls knew her plan! I hat night as Bob walked home with Mary Lou she told him how her dream of the dress had come true. Daphne, walking a little way behind with Ruth, heard and knew. Alter leaving Mary Lou at her gate, Bob walked on, thinking. Soon he stopped and said aloud, “I’ll take Mary Lou! I’ll send Tom Stew- art after Daphne. Tie wants to go to our Prom and I know they’d get along.’ Glancing around to see that no one had heard him, he turned his steps homeward, happier. It was Friday! The Prom at night! What excitement! The gym was all blue and silver and mysterious. Coming home from school, Mary Lou discovered a note in her jaquette pockette: “Mary Lou: It you think Bob is going to take you to the Prom, you’re mistaken because lie’s taking Daphne. Warning you, Me.” Mary Lou read the note twice, calmly. “Daphne wrote that, ” she Twenty-eijcht

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Jfhst rltt High ;§rhxrxrl What picture those words bring to our minds! All around us we could see new faces, teachers, books, rooms—everything was new. The sound of bells ringing could be heard above the turmoil. Someone said, “Assembly in the auditorium;” at that time we were assigned to our home rooms, where program cards were given to us to be filled out. So that we might become familiar with the routine, we had five minute classes. In algebra class we sat and stared at our neighbors as the teacher used such terms as “2x-2y.” We thought they were teaching Greek here and we had gone to the wrong class. A traffic cop was needed in the hall to prevent accidents. People were being pushed, hit, and pulled at the same time. Of course there were arguments about seats in study-hall. If a freshie had a seat near the window and an upper-classman wanted it, all he said was “Sorry, but that’s my seat,” and the poor frosh would move on until he was left on the opposite side of the room. On the whole, it was a day of great adventure. We soon realized the truth of the words, “Nothing ventured, nothing gained.” Would wo ever get used to it all? MARCELLA NACY, '33 ilrrmtt (Of (Ontiumfinu As I sit here gazing out into space, I see a picture, one that often comes to me when I think of future years of high school. It is the twenty-first of June, 1934; the day is warm and sunny, the sort of day one dreams of for graduation. The birds are singing merrily as if they too are happy. Tonight 1 shall be graduated from Schuvlerville High School with a record that is good and honors that are high. I shall leave t lie school, with its green lawn, beautiful shrubbery, and wonderful teachers, leave it forever. It seems but a year ago that I was razzed for being inexperienced in the ways of high school. Today I am looked up to by those of lower classes. As I look at the school I see it as I have never seen it before. It seems to say to me “You enter me tonight as a student and leave me as a graduate. Never forget the place where you received your first start in life. Visit me occasionally and recall past days of happiness and study.” Tonight 1 shall be graduated and next September 1 shall be in college. I shall never forget the school where I took part in the activities that brought me so much happiness. It seems an honor tc graduate from this school. This dream some day will be fulfilled for me. It seems hard to be- lieve, and it will be hard to leave the school, teachers and classmates. I wish the seniors of this year, “Farewell, and good luck in everything you undertake.” BARBARA POTTER, ’34 Twenty-seven

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said softly. “I thought it was too good to be true.” She put the note down and went upstairs. Taking the dress from her closet, she put it on and fixed her hair as she had planned to. Then, taking it off, she hung the dress in the closet. “I’ll take it back tomorrow.” And lying down on her bed, she sobbed bitterly. She lay there until the door bell rang and she remembered her mother bad gone out. She arose, hurriedly bathed her reddened eyes, and went down to the door. “Why Bob!” she gasped when she saw who was there. “Why Mary Lou, what’s the matter?” he asked. She handed him the note and, reading it, he said, “Mlary Lou, we’re going to the Prom Daphne wrote that.” He told her the whole story. Mary Lou’s heart sang as she went upstairs and dressed again. It wasn’t too good to be true, after all! BESSIE GALUSHA, ’33 Chr Art (Of Anpuriu Jtri'rkli's With the arrival of summer, some people develop a few pale tan spots about the region of the nose which they term “freckles.” Freckles they may be, but they are of a poor quality. They have nothing in com- mon with the high type “gingersnap” variety lentigines that I have. My freckles are one thing about which I am conceited. 1 think 1 have sufficient reason to be vain about my ability to acquire them, for 1 know few people who can do as well. Each year, without assistance other than that of the sun or wind, I can gain three or four hundred more genuine dark brown ones. I ask 5rou, could Sappho have done that? Or Jeanne D’Arc? Or Queen Elizabeth? I am unique! My freckles are superior in another way. The freckles of my— shall 1 say—competitors?—fade away and are no longer to be seen with Ihe arrival of winter. Not so with mine. The winter winds give me new energy, so it seems, to produce them, for they blossom out in Feb- ruary as freely as in August. They are guaranteed to be permanent and non-fading. Many people remove their freckles easily with var- ious creams and lotions, but you would not see mine disappear before so gentle an attack. Several times I have decided that I want to be rid of their com- pany, and have besieged them with doses of cosmetics, lemon juice, cucumber, buttermilk and countless other bleaches—recommended by solicitous friends. If I had 932,672,465 freckles when I began to use a bleach, I surely had 1,032,673,466 after using it for two weeks. Now I have given up and decided that they must remain with me always. I no longer encourage them to depart. Indeed, I sometimes pray that they may remain, for they are my only distinction. In my ten years of school life I have been designated as “that freckled kid” or that “freckled girl;” according to the age and relative position of the speaker. I have decided to retain my individuality. Let who will have the pearly teeth, the golden curls, the ruby lips; I have the biggest and best and most freckles of any girl in S. H. S. KATHLEEN COFFIN, '32 Twenty-nine