Vandergrift High School - Spectator Yearbook (Vandergrift, PA)

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24 THE SPECTATOR I know it is a great temptation when you see a funeral procession to pass between the carriages instead of waiting a quarter of an hour until the last %'ehicle has passed. But a spell of bad luck will be cast on the person doing so. If a bird flies in a house or against a window pane someone in that house will die soon. A raven is always a bad sign as is illustrated in Poe’s poem “The Raven.” Blue Monday is a common expression. Always climb out of bed at the same side at which you got in. Disobeying this rule you will be very irritable and untactful. You’ll merely laugh and say you don’t believe these, but often you have thought of them and taken time to repeat them. —G. H. HAMMER, ’21. LIFE OF MICHAEL ANGELO ICHAEL ANGELO was born in the castle of Tuscany, where his father held an office as governor. His early childhood was spent very quietly in his home with his brothers, but at an early age he was sent to an academy at Florence to study. Although his father had very little money, he came of a good family, and wanted his son to occupy a good position in law or politics. But little Michael disappointed him, for instead of studying, he covered the walls and floor of his room with chalk drawings. His father scolded, and finally flogged him, but it seemed of no avail; so he decided to let him go as an apprentice to Ghirlandjo, one of the greatest painters of that time. Ghirlandjo must have thought him a great success for instead of charging him for his apprenticeship he paid him a small sum for his work. Michael soon became a very good painter, and at one time corrected some detail of a picture, which his master was giving to one of the students as a model. About this time Lorenzo de Medici was the Duke of Florence. He was a great patron of art and literature. In his garden he had a large collection of statuary which had been made by ancient sculptors. He told Ghirlandjo if he had any worthy pupils he would be glad to have them come and study in his garden. Finally Ghirlandjo recommended young Michael Angelo, and his little friend, Francesco Granacci for the study. It was thought he suggested that Michael change from a painter to a sculptor because he was jealous of his work. But then it was probable that Michael had shown talent as a sculptor. Young Michael liked his new work, and succeeded better than he had done at painting. A story is told that while Michael was working on a faun, which he was copying from an antique mask, the Duke chanced to come by. He noticed the face and told Angelo that a faun of that age would hardly have such a set of perfect teeth. The young sculptor said nothing at the time, but on coming back some time later, the Duke noticed that several of the teeth were cleverly chisled out. Thus all through his life when anybody made a helpful suggestion or a criticism he always profited by it. The Duke was delighted with the sculptor’s work, and took him under his own patronage. Although only fifteen years old Michael had his own key to the Garden of Sculpture and an apartment in the Duke’s home. During the life of Lorenzo de Medici, he and Michael became very good friends, and at the death of Medici, Angelo missed him very much. His son offered Angelo the same privileges that his father had bestowed upon him, but Angelo did not take advantage of them. He soon returned to his own home and worked, his mind burdened by the sorrow of his friend’s death. When political troubles came to Florence, Michael Angelo went to Bologna, but after the troubles were over he returned to his own home. • At an old age Angelo died after having given to the world many beautiful paintings and statues, some of which may still be seen today. —ETHELDA GRADEN, ’22.

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THE SPECTATOR 23 COMMON SUPERSTITIONS know you wouldn’t believe me if I should say you are superstitious. But listen! Can you count the number of times you have made a wish at the first appearance of the evening star? Or can you number the times you have picxecl a pin up just for the sake of having good luck? Now I have you, for it was just these foolish ideas, magnified but very little, that the people of the Dark Age believed. As I mention them, see if you are not guilty of a few others. If a black cat crosses your path, misfortune is at hand. In one of the Northern states, on a small settlement, Miss Smith, whose superstitions got the better of her judgment, was preparing to visit a neighboring town. It was dusk and as she started to close the barn door before leaving, a black furry animal crossed her path. Screaming she ran into the house. The following day she burned her hand badly by spilling hot water on it and naturally blamed this black animal which she supposed was a cat. Later in the week she went to the barn and to her astonishment found a family of coons. It was a coon which had doubtless crossed her path. If you desire to know who your future mate is to be, just slip a piece of wedding cake under your pillow and sleep on it. The boy you dream of is the lucky one. Don’t forget or you’ll pass a dreamless night. The instance 1 am about to relate is not so common, but nevertheless is believed by some. During the flu quarantine a lady was baking pies. As she drew the last one from the baker it fell from her hands to the floor. At once she screamed and wrung her hands. Being asked by her neighbors why she acted as if she were insane she answered that a pie falling was a sure sign of an immediate death. Another sign of death in the domestic department is a crack clear across a loaf of bread. If such a calamity should happen, some friend will die before the bread is eaten. Two girls were forced to separate and pass on opposite sides of a fat man who was blocking the sidewalk. Together they said, “bread and butter.” Can you imagine the importance of these few words? Well I’ll tell you, it kept them from having a quarrel. A negro servant was offering a young lady the remaining piece of bread before bringing in another supply. “Oh, I can’t take the last piece of bread,” she cried, “I won’t be an old maid.” “You will marry a handsome husband if there is more in the house,” the servant replied. She ordered the negro to. find out for sure whether or not there was any more. Upon his return he said, “There is Madam.” The piece was taken. If you are all wise you will avoid being awkward when you ascend the steps. The reason I have been told, that a particular woman was never married was that every time she walked up stairs she tripped, which added seven years each time to her single blessedness. Unless you want the devil with you all week, don’t cut your finger nails on the Sabbath.

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THE SPECTATOR 25 THE ORIGIN OF ST. PATRICK’S DAY ANY countries claim the honor of having been the natal soil of the good St. Patrick, but it is thought most probable that Kilpatrick, Scotland, was his birthplace. St. Patrick was born about 372, the son of a patrician family. When only sixteen years of age, he was kidnapped by pirates and sold as a slave in Ireland, where his master employed him as a swineherd. Here he lived among the people and learned not only their language but their habits, manners and customs. Finally, after many adventures, he escaped from his captivity and reached the Continent where he was made a deacon, priest, and bishop successively. St. Patrick then returned to Ireland carrying Christianity to the then pagan Irish. His work was hard and he met with much antagonism as the native priests did not, naturally, welcome any innovations. Popular legend attributes to St. Patrick many miracles, most of them highly impossible, which the simple Irish people believe even today. The greatest miracle is, perhaps, that he is accredited with having driven the “snakes” out of Ireland, and having rendered the soil so obnoxious to serpents that they cannot live on it. Colgan, a historian of the time, seriously relates that St. Patrick accomplished this feat by beating upon a great drum He beat it so long that it burst; thus endangering the success of the miracle. However, it was immediately mended by an angel from Heaven. For a long time this was exhibited as a holy relic. Ireland is dotted with geographical names connected with the saint. The places he visited or where he even sojourned for awhile; churches and abbeys, which he founded; and even the wells where he stopped to quench his thirst, may be counted by the hundred and are all in some way named for him. The shamrock is universally worn in the hat, all over Ireland on St. Patrick’s day. Popular notion is that when St. Patrick preached the doctrines of the Trinity to the pagan Irish, he used that plant, bearing three leaves on one stem, as a symbol of the great mystery. —MADALINE FITZSIMMONS, ’22.