South Side High School - Optimist Yearbook (Newark, NJ)

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THE OPTIMIST ]W her life there was to be of the simplest. To reconcile herself, however, she had to take her blue serge and her satin. It was Mr. Donalds who escorted Diana to the train that afternoon. Poor optimistic Dad certainly looked far from his usual self; even resolute Diana felt the least bit ready to sur- render, but she did not allow her mind to dwell on this thought. The journey to Mrs. Sander’s Boarding School was not a very strenuous one, nor did it give Diana any time for thought. It was about seven-thirty when she beheld Mrs. Sanders, who ordered a maid to lead her to her room, which of course had been arranged before hand. This dingy room Diana could not but immediately contrast to her own at home; but no, she would not contrast, for to be sure there was to be a great deal more in store for her. Nevertheless being in such a gloomy room was enough to discourage any- one. It was at the supper table that Diana met for the first time the rest of the girls. They looked like a pretty good lot. She was sure everything would turn out well. Why did they all look at her? She was wearing her serge and this was one of her best. It was not at her clothes, but what then ? She was a new comer and oh, well, people must stare at new faces. The supper progressed favorably when Sallie suggested the rink. This must assuredly re- ceive a unanimous vote, for what girl does not indulge in skating? Just as Diana was about soliloquize, “I wonder what’s coming next,” Sallie Vcncon arose with “Oh, but surely Miss Donalds, you’re coming along?” “Gracious! Is this where it’s going to be- gin?” thought Diana, but said: “Thanks very much, I’d really love to go, but you see my things must be put into place, and besides 1 don’t think I have the strength to skate after such a tiring journey.” This excuse was accepted as well as others in following days. It was this same Sallie who a month later insisted that Diana had to go to the Hallowe’en dance. “But Sallie, I simply cannot go.” “Any reason?” asked Sallie. “You may as well be frank, you know. Haven’t you even one evening dress? You know the girls all think that the reason, and anyone of us would be willing to lend you one.” How kind they all were, and oh! how Diana hated such tenderness. She admitted she had no dress for the oc- casion, nor did she care to wear a borrowed one. Diana insisted that she had Latin prose to do and surely prose was of more importance than the dance. Diana’s bet with her father wouldn’t, in honor, permit a borrowed gown, and she had to find some way out. Excuses, excuses. Life for Diana was just one excuse after another. Would she despair so soon? No, certainly not. But I do wish I could attend the affair.” Diana managed to escape into her room without being observed by the others. She flung herself on the bed and began to think, she was almost struggling to keep back the tears. “Oh, Peggy, you do look too cute.” “Why, Jackie, pink is so becoming!” “Doesn’t Jane look adorable,” came from across the corridor. “I do wish they’d leave. I wonder whether Jack’s going to be there,” mused Diana. Jack was Sallie’s brother, whom our little pretender had met a few weeks earlier. Many times had Diana wondered whether Jack had noticed how often she wore her plaited skirt. But now she wouldn’t think of such things; that was not in the wager. Anyway, Jack was going to be one of the supper guests to- morrow. You see, Diana was in every thing but a prose mood. At breakfast the next morning Diana ap- peared in her blue serge, her dinner gown till now. She was going to wear her satin for the first time that evening. As if one night of agony was not enough for Diana, all the events of the night before were here related. 11

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THE OPTIMIST 1 beauty of sound, quivering under the wander- ing fingers of the player began to force itself into his consciousness, he drew nearer to hear better the fullness of the message it conveyed. As the music rose and fell he saw the days of the past, when life had been a round of joy and happiness. He saw his youth and all its gaiety, and then his manhood, when hopes were high and dreams things of reality. But as his mind went on, tracing the happenings of the years, the pictures were not so bright. The change had not been sudden, but a gradual wearing off of the gilt of youthful confidence until the hard steel cf reality, cold and unbend- ing lay open to view. With the dashing of his hopes went unfulfilled dreams. His goal lost to sight, the incentive to fight—to struggle on, was drowned in despair until it seemed use- less to try. And now as he stood alone in the gathering darkness the soothing chords of the waltz seemed to find their way into his heart. The icy crust of bitterness that bound his soul gave way to the softening warmth of the music. The idyllic beauty of the sound found an answering note within him, and while he felt its influence, he knew what had been reawakened in his heart—it was Hope, that he had thought gone forever! The plaintive melody had changed, and in its stead there floated on the breeze, tripping notes of ecstatic joy. To the listening man it was like a promise of hope’s reward, and with a glad cry, full of the overpowering vigor of renewed life, he turned and vanished into the night. The notes of the waltz died into silence. Within the girl rose from the piano. In her eyes was youth, but the look of Things Beyond was gone. Who Wins? “IMPOSSIBLE,” repeated Mr. Donalds, as he sat leaning against the arm of his easy chair indulging in argument with his per- sistent daughter. “I do wish you would stop using that horrid word and listen to reason. Because Edith hated it does that indicate that other girls with very' little money are incapable of having a good time at boarding school?” demanded pretty Diana, for to be sure she did look pretty- in her green evening gown of tulle. “Exactly,” declared Mr. Donalds. “It has yet to be proven to me that anyone not able to spend money on the frivolities of the age can endure the life of a fashionable girls’ boarding school. As Edith’s legal guardian, her life there has caused me a great deal of worriment, I don’t think anyone capable of do- ing what Edith could not.” “Is that a wager?” questioned Diana. “Oh, but of course, you do mean everything you say. I’ll take that dare. Let me be the one to prove to you that boarding school is not a most undemocratic place.” “My, how serious my daughter is!” laughed Mr. Donalds, but feared for impulsiveness on the part of Diana. Don’t take back your words just because I’m to be concerned,” insisted Diana. “I’ll pretend to be this poor girl, register at the boarding school, and prove to you that board- ing school is just as democratic as any other institution.” Now, when Diana got a notion determined Diana would carry it to a conclusion. Every- one knew this, and so did Mr. Donalds. Ar- gument, therefore, would be of no avail, Diana was going, and what was more, Mr. Donalds would have to make the best of the situation. The next morning found Diana alert and busy. She had no time for breakfast and if it had not been for her father’s insistence, she would not have had any luncheon. Diana was too occupied choosing her wardrobe. No, she could not take any evening gown, not even her much admired pink, for to be sure, 10

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 “We’re so sorry’ you couldn’t be there,” be- gan Peggy Blake. “The novelties were so original!” exclaimed Sallie. “And you should have seen the favors,” piped in Antonette Gray. “Won’t classes ever begin today?” burst out Diana, unable to tolerate the strain any longer. Diana did look pretty that evening gowned in her plain blue satin. But was it the rose on her waist or Jack at her side that seemed to accentuate the color in her cheeks? What mattered that? Diana did look satisfied. Everything was laughter, fun and frolic, and Diana felt that this was a wonderful night for her. Her joy, however, was short-lived, when the stupid maid passed the soup. Oh! why had it to be just on Diana’s dress? Our little lady was for an instant too stunned to speak. What restored her senses was Peggy’s voice, which could be heard from the other end of the table. “And that’s Diana’s best dress!” and of course every' one joined in the chorus. Then came Jack’s voice. “1 do feel sorry', Diana. It was so pretty, too.” Sympathy! Sympathy! Oh, how she des- pised that word! But sympathy even from Jack. That was too much. Tonight she would end it all. Diana rushed to her room, too angry even to cry’, but thought, nevertheless, that Dad was always right. The telephone was the first thing Diana made for. “Western Union, please,” when she heard someone at her own door bell shouting, “Tele- gram! Telegram!” Diana for an instant forgot the excitement of the evening, rushed out, tore open the envelope, and beheld: “You win. Come home. Awfully lonesome alone.” DAD. THE OPTIMIST The Young Editors (By Our Own Daisy Ashford.) Chapter I.—Quite a Young Boy. Mr. Ostcena was a very skolerly teacher who was fond of asking people to work for him. Mr. Osteena had light short hair and glasses and a run. He had a gray suit, but on some days he had another kind and he carried a black bag as he thought it more becoming. One day Mr. Osteena asked quite a young boy of 18 to work for him. His name was R. Bernard Nolan and he was not very tall with fairish hair and nice legs. Hullo Mr. Osteena said he. What do you want. I want you to get an Optomist said he, you must have some people to help you added he. Ask Frances Cauftacue who is a lady pritty in the face. Well yes I will replied R. Bernard and he left the room with a very' superior walk but- toning his coat as he went. I expect you would like to help us run an Optomist said he to Frances Cauffacuc commonly called Miss C. Well yes I should said Frances egerly. Chapter II.—Starting Gaily. This is quite a large job, said R. Bernard. We mite get some more people to help. So we mite said Frances throwing him a speaking look. Mr. Osteena was growing a little peev- ish, but all of a sudden he had a good idea. I’ll tell you, said he I will arsk the earl to help me who is my friend. What a good idea cried Frances and she thought what nice people she was working with. So I will leave my chap- ter. Chapter III.—Mr. Osteena’s Plan. Mr. Osteena woke up rather early the next morning and remembered his good ideas of the night before. When he entered the school he said to the Earl of Chestersham that he was wanted to help run an Optomist, and I think you are just the one to do it, added he. Well, I think so myself, replied the Earl, blushing rather red.