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

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'fogfl THE OPTIMI ST find a way out and they would be happy. Happiness came to her but not for Ion . The following day as she sat making her bridal jacket she was interrupted by the sneering voice of Lee Lung. “Ah hah. my pretty flower, you prepare your- self. You arc the Betrothed of Hai I«ee? No, no. not yet.—not while I. I.ce Lung, live will you become the wife of Hai Lee. You forget the debt of your father. If he does not pay, you be- come my wife. Ming Sing said not a word, but sewed on. with fingers num and cold, with pain in her 21 heart. Hop Sing entered the room A gleam of hate entered his eyes, it was but for an instant. He too hated Lee Lung but he could do noth- ing. Ixrc Lung had him in his power. The two men passed into the next room. Still Ming Sing sat. She prayed that her father would have the money to pay; but it seemed from their voices as the sounds came from the next room that she would be sacrificed. “Hai Lee,” she cried to herself, “the Gods arc against us. Lee Lung and Hop Sing reentered the room where Ming Sing had been sewing Remember Hop Sing, if you pay not your debt—I shall hold you to your bargain. With these words Lee Lung left the house. Ming Sing. her father said, worry not. dear child. I shall find a way. Hai Lee is worth many times Lee Lung. Lee Lung is a thief, a murderer—and some day he shall get what he deserves. Little knew Ming Sing how soon Lee Lung would get what he deserved. That same evening, one that was never for- gotten. Hai Lee and Ming Sing sat on the dimly lighted balcony. With many tears she told Hai Lee what had happened during the day. Cour- age my beloved. he said, do not despair. The light from the corner street lamp flickered for an instant. The great Lee Lung, hated by all Chinatown for his evil ways, passed by the lamp, paused for a moment and looked up at the house of Hop Sing. A shadow quickly came out of a house, and a shot rang out—another, like a word of death. Lee Lung staggered, clutched his jacket and then fell to the pavement beyond all mortal help. Ming Sing uttered no word, but moved closer to Hai Lee. Both had seen alt—yet who had committed this, was the question. The police came and carried the dead body of Lee Lung away. His death war- not mourned by anyone for I-ce Lung had no friends. Who was guilty? No one knew. The people eared not to know who had dealt this blow, for China- town was rid of its meanest man. one who had been cruel to all and who had cared only to benefit himself. The great day arrived and all were gay. Ming Sing, loved by all, was to marry Hai Lee. What happiness there was! The whole town came to the wedding. It was a gay one. yet the two lov- ers thought of the horrible scene that they had witnessed. One evening as Ming Sing sat beside her (Commut'd on Page 79)

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THE OPTIMIS Ming Sing By Bertha Knobloch Ming Sing from the balcony of her father's house, watched dusk gather in the west, and hide the sky in its great dark cloak. The street lamps blinked like the eyes of night birds just awakening. As it grew darker, narrow open doors flung slanted yellow rays upon the pavement stones. The dim streets of Chinatown and the narrow alleyways were full of mystery and fascination for pretty Ming Sing. In her dainty jacket and yellow silk trousers she was like a daffa- dil in the dusk. She sighed faintly, a little for loneliness; a little for the wonder of this mysterious world she lived in. Then suddenly she w a s aware that she was l cing watched. Slowly she turned her head toward the nearby balcony and met the «yes of a man, a young man. When their eyes met he smiled. Something stirred in Ming Sing's heart. She liad never before been gazed upon by so strange a man. Her lips parted, words would not come—she flushed and turned her head away. “Be not afraid, gentle one. he said softly. We are neighbors and my father owns the store of antiques Iteneath us. You arc the daughter of the honorable Hop Sing are you not? She knew that she should be silent, but after a moment's hesitation she spoke, with down- cast eyes. Yes. I am Ming Sing, daughter of Hop Sing. He came to the edge of the balcony and said, So, little flower, you arc Ming Sing and I am Hai Lee. Ming Sing raised her eyes—eyes of a dark wondrous beauty. A smile played about her lips. She forgot to be shy and soon they be- came friends. They were both lonely; and soon m the odorous dusk, while mingled sounds fro the streets came up to them, he told her of his life. His father, being rich, had sent him to col- lege where he had progressed rapidly. All dur- ing his tale she had listened eagerly and he had enjoyed watching her. It is wonderful, she sighed when he had finished. Thus for many nights they sat, enjoying each other’s c o m p a n y, lovers from the first meeting and yet no such w o r d s ever passeri between them. They spoke only of life, of school, o f Chinatown. Then one evening as they were sitting on the dimly lighted bal- cony. the stars twink- ling aliovc. he said. Ming Sing, you find me not unpleasant to look upon? I have asked my father to ask your most esteemed father for your hand. Hai Lee leaned across the balcony and slowly took the hand of Ming Sing into his. She raised her eyes, shining with happi- ness. Was it possi- ble? It was not a dream? Hai Lee wanted her. Ming Sing for his wife. Yes Hai Lee. she replied, if my reverend father permits it.” Something seemed to whisper to Ming Sing. Oh it could never be for had not her father al- ready promised her to the wealthy I-cc Lung. Ug! She hated that fat Lee Lung—but what could she do. Her father was in debt and to none other than Lee Lung. This she told to Hai Lee who told her not to worry. He would 20

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THE OPTIMIST W| A Tale By Jeanette Gold fine That was home—a dirty, smelly hole—a rut, where sunlight knew no welcome, where dark- ness reigned supreme, where deeds were done under the sheltering wings of night, where in- genious plots were designed, where brains were busy—always scheming, plotting to withhold at any cost that tiny, precious something—lifel Vet. what was that life?—risks, escapes, sharp spying eyes, paralyzing fears, deaths, sorrows, short eager breaths of gladness, for these were creatures hated, scorned, hunted by the warmed, bright world. Here, as in all places, was the eternal mother, and again that mother-love which considers not at all self, but burns in an unquenchable (lame of tender anxiety for helpless young ones. When little egoists know only that they must cat, mothers know only that they must seek. Thus, in profound blackness, while the good world slumbered peacefully, one of these hunted un- happy creatures ran forth, driven on by the power of her love. Kyes, so black, so weary; ever watched lest upright men appear, knowing well their utter mercilessness. A quick run! Stop! The sound of footsteps! No! What nonsense! Hungry mouths were waiting! A faint whimper reached her ears and she darted forth with new resolve and newly gathered strength. Onward, onward, ever onward she rushed, but barren and futile was her search—not one morsel was in sight! The thought came steadily in a regular lieating-beating “They arc young. They arc helpless. They arc hungry! Blacker grew the night and heavier grew her heart. What was she to do now? She cast half-mad, furtive glances about her. Love, hate, love, hate—the alternating emotions ruled her. There, there in that home slept untroubled, at ease, on soft downy pillows, one of those good men, those men of renown, of wealth, of pres- tige. There, children knew no want and mothers suffered not the sight of babies’ hunger. She shivered, she waited; then she made her mad way into the house. There, by the side of a bed, she watched a soft, warm little body, a sleeping, tired, little boy. Gently, gently up and down rose and fell the chest of the child, his rounded check flushed with slumber. With sudden vi- ciousness, she bit into the plump little leg over- hanging the crib. His baby cries awoke the household, but she waS gone. Swift and agile was her flight. Running, running, ever running— suddenly she stopped! There—food! Her little ones will be fed. Quiveringly she snatched the piece and—snap! Well, at last they succeeded, those men from above. They got her this time. She struggled—she pulled—she pushed! The frenzy and fear of her littles ones’ welfare gave her a supreme bravery. With unlielicvablc force she tugged and pulled herself away, dragging her severed limb behind. Tightly she held on to that remnant of food and pulled her weakened body along the door. Soon, soon will the hungry mouths be fed. With this thought she still crept along, leaving a trail of blood behind. Faint and fainter she became—but her mother’s heart would not give in. Sapped of all strength at last, she fell into the hole of a home. The tiny ones quickly devoured the bit of nourishment. But the conscientious men had done their work, and well, and the brave little mother at last fell, her limb torn and bloody, her body tortured, but her soul appeased. At that moment, in the great house of upright men, a little baby boy gave a last tortured whim- per. This—another strange talc in a world of mice and men. Twenty Yeara After This Number With Apologies to R. Southey By Helen Grecnblat It was a summer evening, Old Kaspar’s work was done, And he lwsidc the trolley tracks Was tuning in for fun. And by him playing at casino His little grandchild. VVilhclmino. She saw her brother Peterkin Roll something large and round. Which he beside his trolley tracks In playing there had found, He came to ask what he had found. That was so large and smooth and round. “O that,” said Kaspar with a sigh. “ Tis some South Sider’s skull; The Seniors murdered The Optimist staff In a slaughter terrible. But what they fought each other for Was in the Senior Optimist—May, 1924. 22