Seth Low Junior High School - Spectator Yearbook (Brooklyn, NY)

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AN EMBARASSI NG SITUATION HE incident which I am about to relate occurred a few years ago but I remember each little detail as if it happened yesterday. It was just before a spelling test and I discovered that I had no ink. With the consent of my teacher, I went to the closet for some. I noticed that my teacher was irritated for I annoyed her with petty details, such as, discov- ering the closet was locked, obtaining the keys, using a dozen different keys before using the right one and other little things that would vex the most sweet tempered person. After delaying the class for about ten minutes, I ran to my seat with the can of ink, feeling, I can assure you very much like a goose, very conspicuous and very much like the prize dunce of the class. But fate with all her mis- chievous pranks had to make me the laughing stock once more for just as I was about to be seated, I slipped and fell, ink and all, getting the ink all over myself and another unfortunate victim, my neighbor, Selma Bernholtz. Now, how would you feel if you were in my place? In other words I felt as though I were a fool, a ninny, a simpleton, and everything else per- taining to stupidity. The mess was Cleaned and cleared. I knew my teacher was exasperated and provoked but got the better of her temper, for she only said, disgustedly, IlWell, Laura, did you get enough ink Em And I, thinking she had meant in my inkwell, replied, tho, Mrs. Taffet, I didnit get anyW At which those Children laughed, as I had never heard them laugh before. Strange as it may seem, every word is true. Yet, I saved the day, for we didnlt have a spelling test. Laura Dunn, R03 0 0 O SETH LOW. OUR SCHOOL T last I am a student of Seth Well do I remember the days when I used to gaze with open admiration and awe at the huge white building of which I am now so proud. Well do I remember how I used to envy those students that marched proudly from within its walls. Well do I remember how I used to wish that I, too, could attend Seth Low. Nor am I sorry! For here we are treated as if we were high school stu- dents; the teachers are not any better -but, somehow they are differentre more likeable. It is indeed a pleasure to be here. The building itself is beautiful and Low l Page Twenty-six attractive. Its halls are clean and nice. It is not so much those things alone that have made me lirm in my opin- ion of Seth Low. It is the fine spirit that prevails here; the spirit that never says tidiefi One meets new friends, new com- panions. One becomes older mentally. One is swept along in the general rush to oneis goal. I could continue to praise Seth Low. I could tell of the tradition of the school. I could write of the heroes of Seth Low. But, it would be ilold stuff? We, who are here know. Yes, we love our Seth Low! Judith Vogel, RA5 THE SPECTATOR

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AN UNUSUAL DREAM WAS lying on a deserted beach basking in the sun. Through my head ran idle thoughts and among these were some about Treasure Isl- and. The monotonous rolling of the waves soothed my nerves as I stared blankly over the horizon. In the dis- tance I could see an old wind-jam- mer sailing towards the shore. Nearer and nearer it came until I could see figures on it. Finally when it was a few hundred yards from the shore, a boat was lowered and some men got into it. The men rowed the boat and then to my horror I saw that they were pirates. They had gleaming cut- lasses in their teeth and muskets rest- ing on their laps. The leader I rec- ognized as Black Dog and there was Job Anderson, the first mate, and Israel Hands, the canonneer. I was paralyzed with fear. cILookf said Black Dog, githereis a lad on the beach yonder. Grab himP, iiAye, aye sir? they shouted as they hastened to obey their leader. I started to run but to no avail as they soon caught me. They took me back to the boat and rowed me to the ship. The first person I noticed as I went aboard the ship was Long John Silver. His eyes gleamed when he saw me. IIAha, a nice boy and he looks as smart as paint. Too bad, but it must be done? He pointed an ugly look- ing pistol at me. iiTie his hands and put something around his eyes? My heart was filled with terror. IiI didnit do anything. What are you going to do with mePII I asked as a pirate was tieing my hands. At this his frame shook with a hideous, rocking, laughter and once more he brandished his weapon at me and I looked into its deep black muzzle. IIYouill find that out in a few min- utes, me fine ladf, he replied. Then my eyes were covered with a iilthy rag. Somebody jabbed a pistol deep into my ribs and ordered me to walk straight ahead. I obeyed and after walking a few steps I stepped on nothingness and plunged to the water below. For a moment I struggled in the icy waters and then I awoke to find myself still lying on the beach but the tide had come in and a small wave had just swept over me. There in the distance I could see the same old wind-jammer with the large white sails iilled with a breeze and the top- masts bobbing dehantly in the wind. Morton Rosenberg, 9A1 THE WIND AT NIGHT When the wind whistles and howls at night, It fairly makes me shiver with fright. Under the covers I quickly scurry, And pray to God to make the night hurry. THE SPECTATOR The lovely moonlight streaks across my bed, Like a million strands of yellow thread. But with it all I shiver with fright, When I hear the wind howling at night. Rhoda Knecht, 9A1 Page Twenty-nve

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FISH EYES Characters Jim Hanvy .................................... Detective Mary Jones ......... Powers, Girl Friend Bill Powers ........................... Bank Cashier Mr. Gray ........................ Bank President Scene I Place : First National Bank-New York City. Time: 3 oiclock in the afternoon. Bill: Weill be on easy street soon. I got away with it as easy as you could snap your fingers-$Ioo,ooo grand too. Now Iill go in and tell that guy Gray that it was missing when I first got the dough. M ary : Swell, Bill, but watch it. As soon as you tell Gray, the bulls will be down like a pack of blood-hounds with that flat-foot detective, Hanvy. Bill: He better watch out. Heill be full of air-holes some day. S cene II Mr. Grayls Oiiice. Bill: But Mr. Gray, it was missing when I started to count it. M 7. Gray: I believe you. Go home and wait until you are summoned. Bill: But Mr. Gray don,t you suspect some one? Mr. Gray: No, not just now. Wait until you are called. Scene III Place: In a little room occupied by Bill Powers. A few days later Bill: I tell you Mary that detective Hanvy is driving me crazy. All he does is sit around and gape at me with those lish eyes of his. He knows I stole itehe knows it. If he would only call an investigation or something like that. M ary : I know it, but hang on a little bit longer, it will blow over soon. And then we,ll be on easy street for the rest of our lives. S cene I V At the bank. Bill tTo himselfl : I can,t stand it, I just canlt. Iim going to confess. Bill: Mr. Hanvy I confess I stole. Now will you stop looking at me with those eyes? H anvy .' Why what do you mean? There was a robbery in your cage a few years ago and I was just trying to iigure out how it was worked. I didnit have any suspects lined up yet. But I guess now you saved me the trouble. THE END 0' o O MOTHER Should you search the sky and earth For life,s gift of greatest worth, You shall find above all other, Life's most precious gift is mother. Anita Leder, R02 David Brady, RB6 T H E S P E C T A T O R Page Twenty-seven