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

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'THE OPTIMIST Dark things appear in future dint We surely must get rid of him. (As he finishes. Sir Saturday, the innocent cause of all the trouble, enters with a number of his followers. Clouds appear on the horizon and for a time it looks like rain.) Sir Saturday: I listened awhile to that sissy While he said what he thought of me He knows not that he plays with fire By the way! Which one was the lyre? Sur Plus: Sir! Wouldst thou insult me thus? And me the noble son of Plus. I’d challenge thee to a duel But I fight not with a mule Tomorrow we will knock you dizzy As sure as I own a Tin Lizzie So take the hint and skip away Before we change it for today. If Countic will not let you hike I think we'll all go out on strike. Chorus of Knights: Tho one like you is brave as ten We do not want non-union men. We’ll fight you till we all do drop For we must stand for a closed shop As Plus just said you'd best be gone A train will leave at early morn. Sir Saturday: You’re all a bunch of green Hay- seeds I could even sell you a stock of beads. If Sir Plus is afraid to fight His champion will make it right So let him name that worthy one That justice might quickly be done Besides just making him repent I’ll practise for the tournament. ACT I, SCENE II (Two hours later, Eastern Standard Time. Courtyard of the Castle. Regulation ring is laid out in preparation for the bout between Sir Sat- urday and the champion of Sir Plus. The con- testants climb into the ring from opposite direc- tions, and the referee announces to an audience made up entirely of knights.) Referee: Friends! Romans! Upholders of the right I wish to announce a fierce grudge fight Between Sir Sat, the Prince St. Tartar. 31 And Sir Buckle, knight ot the Garter. The latter chosen champion To Plus the fighting Irishman. The rules they be not hard to read But wo be he who fails to heed That kicking, biting, hitting in a clinch Makes one a candidate for a grand lynch. The bout will go till one that wins Is found left standing on his pins. It will start when bells are rung The loser never will be hung. (At this the two contestants advance to meet each other, but arc stopped by the appearance of the Count of No Account, their master, who is very indignant over their contemplated fight. The other Knights disappear to give the count plenty of room, as the stage is now over- crowded.) The Count: War Dogs! Arc ye about to do Something that ye would always rue? If ye will have your fight right now The winner shall regret I vow. Tomorrow’s tickets arc all sold out We'll make this fight the leading bout And when the gate receipts arc in A goodly share for one to win. The winner will get all the loot The loser a big wooden suit. So save your pep for the next joust While I go get the show a boost. (Exit the Count with Sir Saturday. Enter the knights of the Pool Table.) Sir Buckle: Altho I’m but a visitor I think I have been treated raw. In trying to settle a gentleman’s quarrel They mistook me for a professional I think I’ll give that Sat some rights Then I'll join the Arabian Knights. Chorus of Knights : Sir. we sympathize with you With Countic also we arc thru His life’s not worth a broken plate He's nothing but an old cheap skate If you will give that Sat a smack. We’ll make you the Royal Hat rack. We’ll fight no more in this old grotto Live and let live will be our motto. (Exit the knights with Sir Buckle in their midst.)

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 63 1 THE OPTIMIST When Nighthood Was the Hour An Uproar in Four Acts. Herr Thomaso von Winnermann. UPROARIOUS PERSONAE The Count of No Account—ten oar Sir Buckle. Knight of the Garter Milady, his wife—soaprano Knights of the Pool Table—all tones Sir Loin, a tough guy—anytonc Sir Saturday, Knight of the Bath—bury tone Friday, his devoted varlet and a poor fish—bass Chorus: maids, pages, men-at-arms, servants, lords, and what not. Accompanied by the Orchestra ACT I, SCENE I (Knights of the Pool Table arc seated in full regalia. Their leader, Sir Loin, is standing cue in hand.) Sir Loin: Knightics! We have not gathered here Just to drink up all the beer. Oh, no! It is quite far from that We would discuss that loafer Sat. The daily jousts will soon begin I'll knock him for a hunk of tin Now what I want you all to do Is tell me what he did to you Of course I have nought to complain But sight of him gives me a pain. Begin to tell ntc all your woes Anything we say surely goes. I-et liars begin to say their pray'rs They will be blasted in their chairs. Sir Tax: Last week my wife collected his rent The next day my poor nose was bent. He is a wicked wretch you sec For he took it all out on me. I move we get a husky rail And make this wise guy takr the trail. (He sits down amid great applause.) Sir Loin : Before we proceed in this affair Why doesn’t Sir Rene sit in his chair? Sir Rene: Chief! An awful curse has come my way So I must stand up foi a year and a day Sir Sat at shooting craps last night I beat For revenge he put a tack on my scat, Altho he is a hunk o’ leather I move we give him tar and feather. (As Sir Rene finishes his memory gem, he is greeted with a shower of glycerin tears. Sir Rum arises and speaks.) Sir Rum : What Sir Rene said took all my vim I move we all stand up with him. Sir Loin: The words you say arc surely just But it would ruin the Table Trust. (To the rest) We’ll have Sir Rum begin his talc I wonder why he looks so pale. Sir Rum: That runt he surely did me dirt He put a flea in my knight shirt. We were matched together in Seattle one night I was too busy and lost the fight. I move we take none of his sass On him we can use lethal gas. (He sits down and is also applauded: Sir Plus, the Poet Knight, is asked to speak and docs so, accompanied by a lyre.) Sir Plus: He gave me a crooked deal And made me sick one night Now when I eat a good meal I lose my appetite. N tl me .j rooJltxf Jr I 'I nd mi r » • wif 0nr nti,ht A'cvt l a n « I my arfirftfc 30

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 SSr I THE OPTIMIST ACT II. SCENE I (Enter the Count, followed by his wife and the rest of the royal Cake Eaters, who after taking one good look at the sympathetic audience, go out by most convenient exit, leaving Count all by his lonesome.) The Count: Ha! Ha! Ho! Ho! T’was a merry day I think to my cellar I will away And there surrounded by my private stock This beastly prohibition I will mock That pest Sir Buckle is gone for good Six feet underground encased in wood. (Exit the Count; Sir Saturday steps out from behind curtain.) Sir Saturday: Twas jolly news I just did hear Like the midnight ride of Paul Revere I know a means to profit by it If Countie did hear he’d take a fit. (To his Variet Friday) Ho Varlet! Hie thee for a can opener. H va«i£t. Hie THfi ron a ca O PEHtn. This Annon rmi l%hc a «oat Or run This armor feels like a coat of fur. Also take this awful sword While I spy on the old count’s hoard. (Exit Sir Saturday and his Varlet. Enter Chorus.) Chorus: The jousts today were not so good The knights fell down like blocks of wood Before the sword of that noble freak Who by the way is quite some sheik Which is proved by the glances fair Bestowed ’pon him by maidens there. But none outdid the old count's wife Who presented the knight with a rusty fife. (Chorus slyly moves towards its respective exits still singing.) All this smellcth of a plot What about we knoweth not. Now to our tasks we must away Or the Count will give us the Grand Good Day. (After singing their piece, the Chorus flits away.) END OF ACT II (Note—Orchestra should flare up at this mo- ment to keep the audience bewildered as to what the thing is about. They can play anything at all if they wish, even the Polish National An- them. This will also increase the importance of the Orchestra.) ACT III. SCENE I (One of the ante-rooms of the castle. Two exits arc all that arc necessary in this scene, but one more will come in handy. Note—Ante-room is a place where they play Sky Limit Poker.) (Enter the Count's wife, followed by Sir Sat- urday.) Milady: Sir. you certainly have a crust: I think you in the eye I’ll bust. Don’t you see I’m the old Count’s wife? If he got wise he'd take vour life. Sir Saturday: But. my dear, if I have you right. Twas a case of love at first sight. Fly with me away to Spain With the old guy's hoard we’ll there remain. Its riches will make me the king And to you I'll give a celluloid ring. Milady: Sat. I swear by my little shoe I think you are a bit cuckoo But just to prove I’m not a vamp Vour spirits I will try to damp. If you would win my tender regard You must do a task real hard. 32