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

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SENIOR OPTIMIST Page Ten During the intermission, they preferred to remain in their seats, smoking and looking about eagerly to see if any of their friends were present. Suddenly Dolly glimpsed Phyllis Holmes speaking to Danny. Dolly had some know- ledge of Phyllis' intimate affairs, before she had married Bob, she had been employed in Phyllis' favorite dress shop, and Phyllis had spoken freely to a sympathetic listener. Dolly had needed to be sympathetic . . . She had seen Danny with Phyllis a number of times. She and Bob knew Danny well and were fond of the young man. She exclaimed, Bob, we must warn Danny of that woman. Bob laughed, pulled her hand into his and told her to forget her magnanimous intentions. But whenever Dolly looked at the couple, she worried. However, she managed to live with the music and was carried away by the great pianist's inspired playing. Sidney Golden was unsuccessfully trying to have a flirtation with the girl at his right. She was absorbed in the music. He liked music but it had no overpowering effects on him. The orchestra was playing a sad, sweet melody, a haunting, lingering song which made tears come to the eyes of the girl at Sidney's right. She was remembering Richard who was now rotting under Spanish soi'l. Oh, what's the use! Sidney thought to himself-hmm-nice ankles, pretty good figure, blonde, looks sad. Marie was seated on Danny Phillip's right and she thought that the next time her employer asked her to work late she would not refuse. What mat- ter-. With a twist to her lips, He'll think it's cute, but my mother if sick . . . Althea Porter, Socialist, and sitting high on the stone steps with the sky seeing near, was lost in the beauty of the now fiery piano solo. She came out of her riverie reluctantly, having felt the spirit of the music enter her. The music had touched her and distressed her, and the effect was poignant and fCon!imzed on Page 69j INSPIRATION One needs but get that sensation, That thought of someone dear, Or perhaps, patriotism for a nation, That can bring the feeling, that burns and sears, Until in hand, one clutches the pen, the brush, the clay, Then heaven move hell, it may-g With trembling hand and feverish brow He struggles on, he dare not stop now, That seed, it must be sowedg At last, with eyes of reverent tears, He lays aside his clarion torch To reveal the monument he mowed To the vagabond of passions, inspiration. -Louis Scbleifer.

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JANUARY, 1939 CUNCCERT It was August ninth, 1938, and Lewisohn Stadium was filled with music lovers, and a few who did not love music. When the great Hofmann appeared, there was thunderous applause. Then the Symphony Orchestra began to play, and a hush came over the audience. Faces were, by turns, expectant, disap- pointed, inspired, rapturous and revealing. When the program was nearing the half-way mark, a few listeners be- came restless. A few yawns were stifled, a bit of coughing aroused the others long enough for them to violently hush the offenders. Mrs. Holmes, sitting down in front, was worried. At her left sat Mr. Phillips, young, handsome, intent on the music. It was he who had suggested the concert, and although the restive Mrs. Holmes detested symphonic music, she had readily agreed because of her anxiety to please Danny Phillips. She had wondered how Danny had been able to secure the best seats, she later discovered that he had had passes, and her lips had become derisory. Mrs. Holmes was an attractive woman of thirty who looked twenty-five. Well-built, having an exquisite taste in her choice of clothes, and possessing a face with which several beauty shops were familiar, she appeared at all times, well- groomed and good-looking. She had made Danny understand that she was going to be divorced, else he never would have continued seeing her. Of course she would never divorce Bill Holmes-he offered too much security. She had been attracted to Danny at a cocktail party, and had contrived to prolong the acquaintance until some- thing deeper had been established. Her husband had no other interest in her than for displaying her as a model for clothes. When in his company, however, she succeeded admirably as a model for an acrimonious tongue. He attempted to conceal the latter with excuses. Because of the voluble flattery she received, her vanity was temporarily appeased. She desired more and more attention, and Danny was gullible enough to believe that she was sincere in her affection. Phyllis Holmes, tonight, knew that her double-crossing could not last much longer, yet she was loath to surrender her enjoyment. Selfish she was, yet her vanity suppressed what little intelligence she might have had. Strange that Danny Phillips was attracted to her? No, not at all odd. It is common enough for a man to be temporarily blinded by a woman's faults, is it not? She hoped that none of her friends would see her with Danny, yet few en- joyed music. Her brow was wrinkled in worry and she wished the pesky musicn would stop so that Danny could tell her again how well she was look- ing . . . Danny, beside her, was lost in a world of his own, one which she could never enter. Mrs. Holmes restlessly looked about her, noting the apparel of other wo- men, judging critically. Then she began to worry again. If Bill discovered that she was seeing another man continuously, he would divorce her . . . Heaven knows he had grounds enough! In less expensive seats, sat Dolly Owens and her husband. They were cel- ebrating their first wedding anniversary and were very much in love. They were both passionately fond of music, only one of their common interests. Page N ine

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JANUARY 1939 OUTCCAST It was a cold, grey afternoon. The countryside was bleak and barren. The onlygsign of life was a slowly moving figure which trudged wearily along the narrow winding road. His coat was well worn and he shivered pitifully as the wind chilled him to the bone. He had travelled far that day. He travelled far every day, wandering aimlessly about the country, no home, no place to go. After while, he came to a broken-down house. It was a home,-someoneis home. Maybe they would help him. He passed through the broken gate, up to the house, without noticing the For Sale sign in front. There was no answer, and he turned, slowly retracing his steps to the road. Weary, he travelled on, and presently came upon a little girl with her mother. He raised his head eagerly as the child came toward him, but a sharp word from the woman brought the child back to her mother's side. He kept on and on till the darkness of night crept over the world. Then, his remaining strength spent, he collapsed in a heap at the side of the road. Bk wk Ik Pk HK wk The sun rose, disclosing a white-clad earth. The sun's rays gleamed on the snow which had fallen during the night. In the distance was heard the jingle of bells and a horse-drawn sleigh came into view. A little girl was in the sleigh with her father. At a cry from the child, the man stopped the sleigh and got out. There on the ground, covered with snow, lay a still, cold figure. As the man lifted the frozen form in his arms, the child exclaimed, Oh Daddy, the poor dog is dead! -Betty N ester REVERTE LOST-Sixty precious moments, each set with sixty diamond seconds. No reward offered, for they are gone forever. Time, what is it? How is it measured? The ticking of the clock, the passing of day into night, the changing of the seasons? We bow down to it as if it were a god, it rules us as no king or dictator would. Our every moment is motivated by this force. It is fleeting at our happiest moments, it is at a standstill at our moments of despair. It speeds like a train, it crawls like a turtle. If it is lost, it can never be regained. Time is more precious than gold, more fickle than a young maid. We are regulated by an uncontrollable tyrant. At one o'clock we must do this, at two, we must do that. Even the exactitude of science is dominated by this uncontrollable force. How can we hope to work in harmony with something which is here and not here simultaneously, some force which is friend and foe. -Florence Brtwermtzn Page Eleven