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

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DRY HUMOR This gentleman is an exceedingly rare type. He has a sense of hunnor. Other teachers may crack jokes, but his are good jokes. Other teachers make wisecracks, but his are humorous. Some teachers may be jolly; others may be chronic wits; but his is dry humor. He need not be especially good natured; indeed, it seems that dry humor is best uttered by a sharp tongue and accompanied by a glinting eye. He is merciless, sparing no one. He is always alert. He mouthes his words, pronouncing each slowly and with sufficient emphasis, for he enjoys his dry humor. As does every- one else. Except the victi m. THE TEACHER He ' s not especially a Bore; nor Is he a Liberal; you can hardly call him a Mr. Chips; and he ' s definitely not a Terror. At times, however, he Is a bit boring; sometimes he ' s expansive and even liberal; he has his reminiscent moments; and he does lose his temper occasionally. But he ' s really not a Type. He ' s the majority of the faculty men and he ' s not particularly distinctive. We all know him. We have him for Latin or History or Math. He marks fairly, although he does slip up a bit, now and then. He has a quiet affability and an agreeable smile. He k nows his subject thoroughly and he knows his boys, too. We take his course — enjoy it, remain indifferent, or don ' t like it. We respect him and have great confidence in him. We cheer him lustily at the end of the term. EIGHTEEN

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MR. CHIPS He ' s been teaching Harris boys for nnany years, and his hair is a pure white. When those faculty classifications are drawn up for the year book, he ' s invariably chosen most benevolent. He is benevolent (and knows it), but his expression of scorn for the young teachers and their radical educational methods is mag- nificent to hear. His English is impeccable, and his shirts are as white as his hair. He threatens recalcitrant students in solemn, measured tones and makes mysterious marks on his white sheet with his huge pen. But we ' ve never yet heard of him flunking a fellow. He likes boys. And he is desperately eager for them to like him. I guess he really isn ' t a Mr. Chips. But he tries so hard to be. And we love him for it. THE TERROR There is always a Terror wherever there is a school. Some teachers may be feared; others may be respected; but the Terror is one who is universally feared and respected. He ' s dreaded. The Terror is (a) a slouching, menacing colossus or (b) a perpen- dicularly erect five-footer. His orders are issued in (a) a bullying roar or (b) an ominously low tone. He (a) knows that he is a Terror and glories in his notoriety, or (b) is totally unaware of the fact, believing only that his methods of teaching procure the best results. There ' s something about a Terror which marks him whether he is (a) or ( ). It may be his carriage or it may be his voice or it may be his manner. Or it may be just something. But it ' s there. » SEVENTEEN

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NINETEEN