Theodore Roosevelt High School - Saga Yearbook (Bronx, NY)

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qllffif 'Ft- Lt ' 7' iw ' 2 7:i?!'..... .f Krxil- . 'I ,Mis 122' I VAL DISGUISES It was a little shop tucked away in a secluded section of old Prague. It was so small and weatherbeaten as to be hardly noticeable among the other small, weatherbeaten shops and houses that fromed the cobbled square. I would surely have passed it by had not the curious information on the small sign above the door attracted my attention. I. Smetanaf' it said, Dealer in Disguises Conceal your personality in one of my creations. I stepped up closer and attempted to peer through the window pane. All that I saw there was a wig or two, resembling nothing so much as a bird s nest I was greatly tempted to step inside and investigate this curious place of business, but at the top of the short flight of steps that led into the inner darkness of the shop, I hesitated What ex cuse could I possibly give for entering and not purchasing any thing? But extreme curiosity led me on, and I stepped into the gloomy interior. As I entered, I was assailed by a powerful cloud of tobacco smoke. While I stood there coughing, a cheery voice accosted me and a figure seemed to materialize from the shadows My eyes were becoming accustomed to the light, or rather lack of it, and as I replied to his greeting, I studied the man before me The proprietor was a man of medium height and age and of extreme thinness. His voice seemed strangely unfitted to him for it was a cheery voice of a man who might be described as fat and jolly. I idly wondered if he had not developed this tone of voice to conceal the sadness of his face and eyes eyes that were mild and blue but despairing. His mustache looked as if it had been many a day since it had felt the touch of a ministering hand. In answer to his inquiries, I said that I was going to a mas querade ball and was in need of a costume. I-Ie laid down his pipe and fumbled in the pocket of his rusty trousers for so long a time that I half expected him to produce a costume from that region. But all he took out was a pair of spectacles and bal ancing them precariously on his nose, he favored me with a glance of mild reproof.

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UKQQSAA 0' W v Q' A1 'if' 9 'f --Wg O! 4 Q '90 ,Me MOSS: mg r. PM I P :ri L' --2. AMELIA Iosephl How can you? CLEMENT I-Ie deserves it if only for the laugh I got, seeing you tear down the stairs as if a regiment of ghosts was after you. Besides, he has a likable face, and probably will have more use for the money than any of you would have. Therefore, Peter, I give you five thousand pounds and the deed to this castle so that you can play ghost whenever you please. PETER Five thousand poundsl CAROL Oh, Peter, you can publish your mushroom-scented poems now. POVLOFF It you gave it to me- SAMUELS You would be a capitalist and could use your oratory in after-dinner speeches. PETER Oh, Miss Carol, you have brought me this good for- tune. Will you allow me to show you my country? Will you come as my guest? CAROL You bet I will. I'll even let you quote your poetry to me. RITA HOLZ ON Tl-IE BRIDGE Theres romance in bridges. I, too, discovered this, one foggy, inclement day in November when I viewed the waters of the Hudson from the George Washington Bridge. I was quite alone, for on such days few visitors walk over the bridge. The many automobiles whizzing by were not dis- turbing, for they moved so quickly that one was unconsciously aware of the pleasing sounds coming from precise coordination. Perhaps as they hurriedly moved along, the drivers noticed a girl leaning against the railing, staring fixedly at all the magnificence about her. The stately majesty of the mountains vied with the sublimity of this steel structure called bridge. Insurgent waters rolled and tossed beneath, and the sky above was dim and night was coming on winged feet. The distant fog horns sounded exactly as I had imagined they would. I saw tug boats, steamers, and ferries pass by. It was really dark now and lights of the bridge had long since been lit. The mountains were gray and the sky dark, the river alive with boats and sounds, and I heard noisy cars pass me by. Reality had come apace. EDNA MCCLATCI-IEY 12

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fi.. - . 1' -fd-5-2-sw, , 1 --- A .ntl-JfL:EE:2:24:L- 4 ,- gal XS N.-, vvdefaafgfli I ijwtsgzgw -e2--1Qs::- ,,,, f- 's I 1-.rug-., - wiarstlrw yd! 3 '3--.5--1 -.' I e:-tnyg -j W:-,lvl - .t h ,-G --1. 4. Y, - ': 'Q ..E,yv,.. E A gm! xl 'gig : 3: mqMu H I Am f U.lQn it ,.,1u rt, I 5 mu, . :a,n'.-:.-,Qt E in A u.l:lll 1 fgw I-4- rg .- ll . X-Z! . M7525 2 Z i'i '::'ff'IIgQ' ' ' ' 5 - i-- --..:.s, ' VAL I do not deal in costumes, he said. I deal only in dis- guises. I was, for the moment, unable to grasp the point of differ- ence, but I asked to be shown Whatever he had. What would you wish to be? he inquired, wiping his spec- tacles Carefully and banishing them to his dark pocket. I don't know. What have you to offer? Welll, he paused and looked around, I can disguise you as a merchant, a doctor, a teacher, a policeman, or-an actorwor as almost anyone you wish to be, he concluded. By this time my curiosity was thoroughly aroused and I wanted a demonstration of his ability. I think I'd like to be an actor, I said. He frowned. That is rather difficult and I don't like to do it. Wouldn't you rather be a policeman? But I was determined. Well, he said reluctantly, lf you insist. I assured him I did, and he set to work. First, he said, you must get into the proper mood. You should read books on the Theatre. I have some here. I-Ie pulled a few books out of a drawer. Among them I could see a biography of Sarah Bernhardt and a copy of Nove Divadlof' It is very important, he went on, to believe you are an actor, to think and live as an actor. If you really want to con- vince yourself you should make the rounds of the theatrical agents each morning. You should drink beer at the Theatre Gardens and discuss with a patronizing air the performance of the star of the National Theatre and how much better you would do it if you had the part. You should stand in the rain, waiting on the bare possibility that you may be able to pur- chase a ticket in the third balcony to see him perform. Ah, he sighed and blew his nose savagely. Is that all there is to the disguise? I ventured to ask after he had mastered his sudden and surprising emotion. I-Ie pulled himself up. No. After you are in the right rnood, you will go to the shop of Pau Hlovek, the tailor, and get the right clothes. All actors used to gather in his shop and gossip and- he paused. Then in a firmer voice he concluded, Then I guarantee that you and all the others will think that you have always been an actor. He seemed to fall into a reverie and I did not disturb him. I took this opportunity to look around. There was not much to see. A heterogeneous collection of furniture was scattered about the small room. On a rack by the window were a number of mustaches. They, in common with the whole shop, had a de- jected appearance. The place and its proprietor seemed to me to be fantastic, unworldly. I wondered what had given him the idea for the business. What could I Smetana have once been? Surely he had not always been hidden away in this shop. I gazed idly at a few photographs upon the wall, photo- 14