Townsend Harris High School - Crimson Gold Yearbook (Flushing, NY)

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coming laughter-or something of the sort. Edith read his name, Dr. Phil- lip Brownley, Edith considered it a very nice name, and, of course, told him her's. I suppose I ought to notify the po- lice about that. He pointed in the direction which the train had taken. But it will have to wait. The quiz- zical smile deepened and the expres- sion about his eyes of coming laughter -or something-waxed beautiful and beatific. Please let me apologize for the crazy way I conducted this affair, but. . Yes, It waited. Why go on? Let it suffice to say that we should be thankful-as Edith was-for the fol- lowing and other reasons-that Edith's faith in mankind was revived. As for Dr. Brownley, come to think of it, the role of Good Samaritan to the maiden in distress suited him admir- ably. And as a parting thought even though murderers are running about scot free, three o'clock in the morning is as good a time as any for two people to get acquainted. Now isn't it? THE END .-lO . SURGJIMUS SEMPER , 5 cs ITH a swing to the drumbeat of hearts throbbing quick At the trumpet of challenge, and girt for the fight, if Into battle a thousand strikes smartly. The pick Of our gallantry dares and endures, to requite .-QWQQ5 The debt of its manhood, the Crimson glows bright, The Gold flashes to shame prudent pallor. Oat from the higla Hall, proad in epic Jfory- Gfay .rpirei .roaring fo greet ine day'J einbraee- Hariif Jallief splendid, diadeined in glory, Song on near' lips, and radian! bei' face. Heads up, and alert, then, and into the thick Qf the fray! For the fire of courage gives light To fix honest worth by. Who lags is a stick When the legion goes marching, secure in the might Of its cause, of its honor, its trust in the right, And the sounding report of its valor. Oat from the gray walls, .raining in flie morning- Gifay towers tall, agleafn apon the bill- Hawif rallies splendid, forfanelt hazards Morning, Strong in her yoarli, and indomitable will. JAMES E. FLYNN. Page Fi Jkh 1' 61 X mi ii' x E ll fill - 3 ,UE u i N yi A . I I9 We MES lg! a f yi ll ft 4. jzy-Tlnree

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, Gm .1 Q 4 as X N ' - i G 3, Plfl .JS f w 'N E 1 0 43 lx. j If I lxlelll Q I5 .-fs it Q M 943 S5 ll gh . . K 0 'V 455 few j F jf lilo jf! Page Fifly-T ing knees. She just managed to whis- I A per, H-o-w are we going to get out of this? The man hesitated for a moment, as if pondering a matter of the gravest importance. Then he took her hand in both of his and spoke to her in the tone one uses to quiet a frightened child. I believe I have a plan, al- though I suppose it is a pretty terrible plan. just now they're not bothering us over here. We must keep them that wayg do nothing that will let them think that we're on to their game. But if we make one false move there'll be the devil to pay. Now here's my plan-it's all I can think of at the mo- ment. It will be at least another five minutes before we pull into the next station. In the meantime you and I must act as if-well, it's raw but it can't be helped--as if I've made you., We musn't sit figgeting by ourselvesg' that'll give them a chance to start thinking things-understand? Edith was not stupid. This man appeared to be sincere. His uncer+ tainty and wariness when he had first come to her, his earnestness and frank- ness now, the evidences of her own eyes-all bespoke the fact that he was not trying to put over a fast one. In a wee small voice she answered: Yes, Good, When the train reaches the next station, be ready to get out that door in nothing Hat.-And no monkey businessf' His glance down the other end of the car indicated the great importance of no monkey busi- ness. Somewhat reluctantly, it must be confessed, he let his arm go around her waist. Edith wanted to shriek, but thought better of it. With as much reluctance he let his head drop on her shoulder. Edith was not sure now what She wanted EQ Clog aftC1J- wards she thought that she had rather enjoyed her little escapade. Gone was her grievance against man-kind if she could have recollected that she had had any such grievance. Perhaps the pressure of the moment had taken care of that. Perhaps the man beside her had something to do with her change of face? One would think so. She almost fell asleep again, even though she was supporting a goodly portion of the not inconsiderable weight of the man leaning on her shoulder. Only the thought of what those two might do kept her awakeg one cannot conveniently doze between shudders, to say nothing of sleep. Those five minutes were the longest, and in a way, the shortest five minutes Edith had experienced in her twenty odd years of life. When finally the train roared into the station, it was with mingled feelings of relief and regret that she saw she 1TlL1St quit this subterranean hearse, relief at leaving the gruesome companionship of the murdered man for the moment being the stronger feeling. As the train was pulling out, Edith as if fascinated, cast one last, long look at the remaining passengers of the car she had just left. There were the two on the ends with eyes fixed straight ahead, with loathesome faces intent on the corpse between themg that horrid rolling of the head, the staring, popping eyesg the blue lips of death. And then the train and its awful cargo were gone. Edith turned toward a nearby bench with chill shiv- ers playing tag up and down her spine. She sat clown to collect her badly scrambled wits, the doctor followed-H for obvious reasons. He took out his card-case and handed her a bit of stiff, white linen, with a quizzical smile and an expression about his eyes of

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a E 9 SHORT STORY CONTEST A , fa ,X ,O Y mul K sei if L0 l li li l X, 5' 9 be nf 'X f-ii if GJ Sd 37 'S .W V .. lf if + l N ' f' Page Fifty-Four Second Prize .2-10-i THE MOPING OWL By SIDNEY FREIDBERG, U. A. 21 OE was a queer fellow. His Q 3 Q classmates thought so his , ' I parents were aware of it and ', ,il joe admitted it. He was a I1 ll 7 at is xl nu I Www? I 'VMSI real introvert - m o o d y, i i 7 thoughtful, and self-contained. He seemed to Walk about in a perpetual fog-always thinking. He had few friends and wanted less. fZQlX .1 in E Yet, joe was not a bad fellow. He was neither a freak nor a hypochon- driac-just a bit too serious and thoughtful, that was all. Once when he was elected to some minor class office, he worked hard and conscien- tiously. Nobody could find fault with him on that score-he was a hard worker, all right. But he was not the kind to accumulate a long service record, and get elected to the G. O., win a service pin. He was abso- lutely devoid of school spirit, and never stopped to lament the sad fate of this or that team, as his classmates did. He had ideas-theories they could better be called-of his own, yet he did not possess the power to make others believe in him. In the classroom, he often got up to argue a certain point, but found it hard to express himself and soon sank back into his seat, spluttering with embar- rassment. joe was an exceptionally good student, yet nobody ever tried to bor- row his homework, or get him to work out a translation for them. Those who knew him best, said that he had too old a head on his should- ers. They called him The Moping Owl. joe was in Upper A now, and it was his proud boast that he had never flunked a subject in Harris. It had been tough going all the Way, and now, in his Senior term, he didn't want to fall down on the job. To- morrow he was to have a quiz on all the plays of Shakespeare that had been studied in school. joe stayed up until two o'clock that night--studying. Somehow, he had never been able to understand Shakespeare very well. Finally, his head fell wearily upon his arms, and he closed his eyes. The