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

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A burning sense of failure gnawed him from within. Vague but pointed memories of the countless jibes and the contemptuous snickerings at him and his ideas welled to the surface of his consciousness He reached the river He stopped and his mind began to play with the fancy that the key to existence might be found at the end of the River of Life And so dressed in light summer clothing he stepped into icy water wading at first and then Going deeper Time passed The Peasant his body swinging in rhythm to a gav tune he had learned in the city trod the same path that a few nights be fore had witnessed the brief crusade of the Poet Reaching his own hut, he was not a little surprised to see the Old Man hanging some of the Poets clothes on a string outside of the latters house He was no less surprised to see the Old Man turn and enter the Poet s hut Now what can he be around for? He walked to his neighbor s door and with one husky push sent its crazy hinges creaking and crying in up roarious dissent to such harsh treat ment He stepped into the familiar room and saw, much to his amaze ment, the Poet, lean and deathly pale, lying in bed The Old Man rose to meet him He proferred his hand to the Peasant and, upon its being accepted, intro duced himself The ceremony being completed, they both advanced to the bed and stared at the Poet The Poet stirred uneasily The Old Man lifted a brimming bowl of oatmeal from a low chair near the bed. He stirred it carefully, and then slowly, as a mother would feed her child, he lifted a spoonful of food to his patients mouth, urging him to eat So sweet murmured the Poet almost inaudibly, as he tasted the Suddenly the moon crept from out the shadow of a cloud nrst spoonful So sweet for a mere stranger to help another in distress Did I put too much sugar in it? asked the Old Man Sugar s dear this year, inter posed the Peasant Then seeing that the Poet had fallen asleep ust what s the matter with him? Pneumonia Did you get a doctor? Not at first He wanted to go back to nature He did He got some herbs mashed them, and swal lowed the mess That made him sicker How did you enter into this affair? . I , . . . O A I ' ,. ,H 3 . . . 7 7 g . a: af wk ' 1 7 , f U exclaimed the astonished Peasant. SO Sweet - - . , J - 7 - Page Fifty :iw

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darnfully I rarsed a whole field of blue rrbbon tomatoes A murmur of admrratron ran around the table Say sard one thrs early Sprrng rs certarnly gorng to be hard on flannel prrces You sard rt answered strll another prlgrrm ust watch Unr versal Fleece Underwear take a nrce oss That s what I say And so through the nrght Meanwhrle the Poet was turnrng the words of the Peasant over rn hrs mrnd Could rt be that he was merely a hopeless eccentric? Could hrs belrefs be no more than rllusrons? That could not be' And yet rn the cramped crtres and wrde plarns the followers of Results a mrllron of one to one of hrs Perhaps they were blrnd to real values Lrttle could be sard rn such a case But perhaps rt was not blrnd ness but a film of famrlrarrty that closed mens eyes to the beauty of nature And rf that why r rt were only a film perhaps Good Heavens' perhaps he could lrft And so as the flrckerrng lrght of the dyrng sun colored the leaves of the overhangrng trees the resolution to lrft the verl hardened rnto a burning desrre to go on a mrssron Down the sandy path bordered by green grass he walked raprdly seekrng hrs first convert It was not untrl the enthusr astrc Poet reached the srgn of the Blue Dynamo that he saw hrs first prospect an old man 1 Good evenrng began the Poet Top o the mornm replred the Old Man a twrnkle rn hrs eye The Poet unaccustomed to such shrfts rn conversatron stumbled on Does thrs weather H11 you wrth a gladdenrng warmth? When Sprrng approaches do you ever feel the urge to lre beneath the boughs of a green tree? Oh sure the Old Man answered shrftrng hrs prpe from one srde of hrs mouth to the other I lrke to lre under a green tree all rrght but the mosqurtos whoo the mos qurtoes' Yes a green tree rs a nrce rhrng but there are the ants and the fleas and the worms and those thrngs wrth speckled bodres and Well the Poet broke rn the marn object rn lrfe rs rt not rs to apprecrate and understand rts beau The Old Man nodded hrs head Thats just what I was sayrng to the Old Woman thrs mornrng I sard to her Now dear sard I rf you dont thrnk that the vermrllron on the Butchers fence rs pretty you re wrong It rs funny how some people can t apprecrate beauty The Poet brt hrs lrp but contrnued hrs argument There seems to be a krnshrp between the world of rnert matter and the realm of warm lrfe Perhaps matter rs sprrrt rn rts grosser aspect No matter smrled the Old Man Hrs face however suddenly became serrous as he notrced the Poet turn rn drsgust and walk away Hey lad he called Come ack The Poet seemrngly pard no atten tron to the call for he walked slowly back through the overhanging trees - A rx er ' 1 - , ,, . I . 1 , , . , h 7 7 7 7 ' . a H . i K! ' ' Y! ' 1 7 7 D ' 77 I U rf ry I . , , ' - u ' :re wr: :re , ' . . u j 7 7 ' 7 7 , , ....... 1 . 1 1 ll YY ' 77 ' 7 7 ' 7 7 world over there were tributes to and ty. , 7 n I l . . , , . ' ,. , 9 9 7 I 1 1 1 ' 7 ' 7 , 7 Y ' . If . n ' - an 7 W 7 I ' K! it. , . . . . . . 7 - 1 ' l l . 7 7 l 1 7 7 . . , . 1 - , 7 1 i I 9 ' 7 l . Al - D , . I V Fifty-four

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The Old Man told hrm of hrs part rn the hrstory of the Poets brref crusade He looked krnd of upset the Old Man contrnued when he left me I rather lrke the Poet and so I thought I had better keep my eye on hrm He walked down the bank here qurte a way and I lost srght of hrm When I caught up wrth hrm agarn he was bobbrng around rn the rrver out there He looked lrke he couldn t swrm so I got a pole and lished hrm out He was a sorry mess drrpprng all over and sneezrng r e The poor fellow broke rn the Peasant He has made a pretty mess of thrngs He could have made out well too rn the advertrsrng game People draw down good sal atres there Sure assented the Old Man You know Glrbber dont you? Well he draws 700 guldens a week wrrtrng for the hydrant people No use talkrng commented the other He can t do a man s job He rs just lrke a chrld that just won t grow up Many trmes Ive seen chrl dren playrng wrth mud prles For the chrld that drrty chunk of mud be comes now a dragon now a horse now a beautrful mansron That s cute rn chrldren but for a grown man Well remarked the Gld Man I suppose there rs somethrng rn t at If you need me call me sard the other Sayrng that he marched off The Old Man watched the Peasant untrl the latter went out of srght Then he re entered the room The Poet was awake and mutterrng Whereupon the Old Man reached for the medrcrne bottle and the brtter greenrsh lrqurd stopped for a trme the ramblrngs of the Poet Suddenly the Poet sat uprrght rn e Hes blrndl he crred Who? exclarmed the startled Old Man dropprng a plate He cannot see beyond hrs nose The Peasant? Well I don t Always hrs ears are closed to the call of beauty hrs eyes blrnd to the welcome of nature Once I showed water there He saw mrnd you nothrng but water and mud Thank ful am I that I am as I am Sayrng that he fell back exhausted The Old Man felt hrs pulse cov ered hrm gently and then walked out to the doorstep The nrght had by then fallen and a deep calm had descended upon the earth The numberless stars twmkled back at the Old Man as he lrfted hrs eyes to the heavens A beautrful nrght he sard to hrmself Then seatrng hrmself on the doorstep he began to fill hrs 1 e I guess he sard slowly t at I can see what the Poet means There rs somethrng rn all thrs that creeps rn under one s skrn Well I guess he contrnued wrth ' 7 7 7 7 ' 7 7 . ' b d , . . , . . , . . 1 1 I 11 . 1, , . n it Y' ' 1 He. 11 ' I Y! 1 YI . , .......... 7 7 - n 3 . .. ,, hrm the many colored hues rn the 5 ' - rx ' ' . , , 7 ' ' 7 ry ' . . n . , . gy ' YY 9 ' - il ! Y ' 7 . . . . . , , ' 7 a 3 ' 1 1 . YY , .....,. . rr yv H ' ' ' 7 7 7 tt f u 1 ' ' ' ' 9 rx ' h . , .. H - PP - 7 7 If Y! ' K! h' , 7 9 , . ' Y ' Y! . l Y! Y! ' ' ' 1 1 Page Fzfty-:ix