Watkins Glen High School - Senecan Oracle Yearbook (Watkins Glen, NY)

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14 THE PEPPER POT When It’s Christmas Us kids always has the mostest fun at Christmas. Johnny says he wisht it was Christmas all the time but I’m glad ’tisn’t ’cause then it wouldn’t be different an’ that’s why I like Christmas—’cause it’s different. They don’t anybuddy scold or growl at Christmas time. Every-buddv jist smiles an’ looks secret like. We had Christmas ex’cises at school las’ Friday an’ we singed songs like “Silent Night” an’ I speaked a piece about shepherds seem’ a star an’ bearin’ a angel savin’ “Peace On Earth” or sumpin’ like that. After we all speaked a man all stuffed up like Santy Clause come in. Johnny used to tell me they warn’t no Santy Claus. I didn’t like him to say that ’cause I thought they was a Santy but now I know ’cause that man was Kathern’s uncle with whiskers an’ a pillow in his stum-mick that he had to hold up. I asked mother if he was the Santy Claus that comes to our house an’ she saidr “Yes”, but she was jist purtendin’ cause Johnny an’ me found a lot a things in the clothescloset in a box that was on the Christmas tree this mornin’ so Santy don’t bring them at all but just mother and daddy. But we didn’t let on ’cause mother has such fun purtendin’ an’ we don’t want to spoil Christmas. Saturday we got our Christmas tree, Johnny an’ me an’ daddy. It was awful purty, all covered with a lot of sparkly snow. I almost didn’t want daddy to cut it down but Johnny said it would look even purtier with tinsel an presents on it. Yestiddy was Sunday an’ the day ’fore Christmas. I almost couldn’t wait, hardly. Johnny an’ me, we couldn’t even slide down hill cause it was Sunday. Las’ night after we went to bed I couldn’t go to sleep so I went an’ looked out the window where the moon was a-shinin’ on the ground all white an’ purty. I could see ever’thin’ just as plain as day. They was snow on the trees an’ snow on the ground an’ snow on everythin’ an’ the purtiest colored sparkles shinin’ everywhere. The stars was all sp xrklin’ too an’ I thought about the

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THE PEPPER POT ■13 We Want More Articles for the Pepper Pot Any member of Watkins Glen High School can hand •in material for his school paper if he so desires. More students should be encouraged to contribute their literary work to the Pepper Pot. Here are the few rules which must be followed: 1. Contributions may be prose, poetry, essays, discussions, plays, nr jokes; this is left to the discretion of the student. 2. All contributions must be written in ink, on one side of the paper and submitted before March 1st. 3. All contributions shall be submitted with the understanding that the Board may publish such of them as it may desire. 4. The work will be examined by Mrs. Sapora, Miss iSouhan, Mr. Depew and the Editors. Why We Should Buy the Pepper Pot We all, whether from the Freshman, Sophomore Junior or Senior classes, training class or eighth grade should consider it our duty to buy the copies of the school paper. We certainly all enjoy reading', it, therefore we should purchase our own copy and not borrow that of a friend. Perhaps some of us lack school spirit and do not care for the merits which are expressed in this little paper. We should express our loyalty to our school and buy the Pepper Pot. School spirit is one of the most important features of school life and must be taken into consideration at all times and under all circumstances. Therefore if you have not already purchased your subscription, do so now! —Armida Sgrecci, ’28.

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THE PEPPER POT 15 star the shephers saw an’ the angel savin’ “Peace On Earth.” Ever’thin’ was all so still an’ when 1 went back to bed I heard somebuddy singin’ “Silent.Night, Holy Night” an’ then it all faded away an’ 1 was asleep. I waked up awful early in the mornin’ an Johnny an’ me waked up ever’buddy yellin’ “ Merry Christmas.” We took off all the presents but 1 didn’t hardly even see what I got ’cause I was lookin’ at what ever’buddy else got. When it’s Christinas you don’t care what you have, you jist like to see how happy ever’buddy is. Johnny got the purtiest sled. Its name’s the “Scooter” and him an’ me was slidin’ down hill all the forenoon. This noon we had such a big dinner an’ comp’ny an’ ever’thin’. Now I’m so sleepy, but I’m awful, awful glad ’cause its Christmas. —Anna White, ’28. Gifts That Count It was four days before Christmas; the snow was gently falling, the air was crisp and cold. Harriet B. Stowe had returned from school. She came bouncing into the room. (She had been a bouncing baby and had not quite gotten over the quaint habit). “Why, Edgar Allen,” she cried, “How delightful to see you. What are you going to give me for Christ' mas?”’ She struck him playfully upon the vertebrae. Edgar Allen Poe jumped violently and cast a startled glance over his shoulder.-—(It landed several feet away.) “That I cannot say,” responded Edgar Allen, “because it is a secret but it will be a gift that will count.” “Edgar Allen, my curiosity consumes me,” said Harriet.