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

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senior Optimist Suddenly she sto he had always gotter Av enue, but her , maybe the guys who don't know Is, that when they tip hei They're being nice to a sweet Lady whom she calls Mother CINQUAINS Greenness Warmth and coolness, Pungent paint aromas, Noise of skating, shouting, running Springtime. Night time, Waves of blackness, Wrap in your great robe, Waft me on your sea of stillness Drifting Summer, Slipping by us, Would that we could hold you, Passing with the trees’ bright foliage Sadly.

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J une, l 9 3 8 emen $0000200200000000020090000000002002016 u... nn ТИИИП ШИИ O! [HANKS FOR THE MEMORIES Е. S. It was May, and the time was almost eight-thirty. The little house on Maple Avenue was quiet, and almost empty, except for Mary, the Donovans' oldest girl, who walked idly around the front room. She was nervous and seemed greatly agitated After having many times treaded the thickly carpeted room, she wearily dropped down on the piano bench. Unconsciously her hands sought the keys. Without feeling, she played a melody. The tune dimly penetrated her muddled brain. She remembered the first time she had heard that song . . . He had been there at the dance, and Dot had brought him over and introduced him to her. The orchestra began to play that song. He asked her to dance. How she had tingled all over when he had told her she was different. From the party next door came the sound of merry laughter and music. They were playing Thanks For the Memories, the song he had sung so often. Smiling, she remembered how time after time he had stumbled over the same line that the party was now shouting out. He never could get that middle verse Then she remembered the fun at football games—the triumphal way in which she had cheered and had sung “Bingo” time after time, in honor of his touchdowns. Funny how no one could resist him, not even the other teams! She left the living room and slowly walked upstairs. As she passed the little alcove, she noticed how beautiful and clear the night was. Almost as beautiful as on that night, when, coming home on the hay ride, with a silver moon beaming down, and the others singing the old and sentimental songs, they had stolen their first kiss Suddenly she turned and ran to her room. Sobbing, she threw herself on the bed and cried for over ten minutes. As she gradually gained control of her feelings, music from somewhere outside drifted in through her bedroom win- dow. Her sobbing burst out afresh. It had been the last song they had heard together. They had been riding along together, the radio softly playing. But the music had not matched their tempers. For some reason, she had forgotten what it was, they had argued until he had angrily reached over and switched off the radio and driven straight home. Tomorrow, night was to have been their night of nights. How they had talked and planned for weeks on attending THEIR Prom. She had bought her gown—how well it had fitted her! But now she doubted if she would ever wear it, From somewhere down the street came the sound of someone whistling. In time with the whistling she sang the words: Thanks for the memories — Of candlelight and wine, Castles on the Rhine, Of cozy-chair

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June, 1 9 3 8 st энн — — жили en O PETERLE Hert: You usually don't write about your own boy-friends. But do so for a change My boy- friend’s name was Peter Peter the Great He certainly was майек fellow. And smart and funny. What else do you wa ‘ou ll be astonished to learn that | had fr hew my little riend's food, io he could eat it. But that was only when we first met. He was too help less then tO do his own work, ro! he Was only three weeks old He had as white a neck as a swan, with four blue points around it like chain. His coat was striped blue-white like a zebra. Only with different colors of course. His long tail was blue As you may have guessed already, Peter the Great was a parrakec little parrot. Well, as he grew up, Peterle became a very attentive student. Sitting on my nose, he bent his little body as far over as he could, always afraid he would lose a word that came from out of my mouth. And so he learned the most important part of a language (the most expressive anyway) : Slang. | bet you, there wasn't a word in the whole slang, he couldn't use! (It was good that you had to get used to his voice, before you could understand him; otherwise, visitors would have wondered what kind of a house they had en- tered. By the way, my dear cousin Hildegard always pretended not to under stand him. (ГЇЇ never forgive her that!) My mother didn't like very much the idea of birds walking around on dinner-tables. But the majority (Peter the Great and 1), won. There really was no reason whatsoever to exclude him from a decent table. You can be sure that he had a sense of etiquette. He never walked into the middle of plates. He always remained very decently on the edges and picked with his beak whatever he desired to have for dinner. When he saw a mirror, he started to laugh over his whole face. And then he told stories to that other Peterle in there, stories without ending. His inquisitive mind forced him several times to get hold of that fellow by look ing behind the mirror. But unfortunately that lovely phantom disappeared then. So Peter the Great had only one choice to shake his aged head and forget about his research work. (I tried that mirror-business with different dogs , but all of them simply turned around and looked at me as if they wanted to accuse me of doubting their intelligence.) Peter also loved to listen to music and vacuum-cleaners. He accompanied them with his chattering and all the songs he could whistle. How many times a day did I run to the window, anxious to see who was whistling for me, and had to discover that there was Peter, playing a joke on me. And how many note-books did that little devil spoil for me! Not that he was eating the paper! No!! Peter the Great had too much princely blood in his veins for that! But he simply was delighted if other people were angry. And he liked to tear paper. But one morning, Peterle didn't look happy at all. He tried hard Page 9