Yeshiva University High School For Boys - Elchanite Yearbook (New York, NY)

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THE ELCI-lANlTE CDN THE GOCDD SHIP LOLLIPOP tThe following prophecy is published through the courtesy of the United States Weather Bureau. The Bureau has fallen down on weather forecasts so badly, that it has decided to try its hand at prophesying the lives of our graduates, twenty-five years from now. All objections and corrections should be sent to the United States Weather Bureau, Washington, D. C., and they will be promptly disregarded.--The Editorsi The ship crawled on the pimpled water. lt swung on its sides with the rude grace ot a drunkard. The sun didn't shine: it hid and danced behind the clouds that looked like mounds ot whipped-cream. The waves lapped against the side ot the ship and hugged it, rows of trees leaning against the crest of rising hills. People were playing on the deckp some walked and talked and balked at every roll ot the ship. The Captain stayed in his room, alone, and read trom a tat and handsome looking volume ot Keats' and Shelley's poetry. He read the sonnets by Keats and sipped, at the same time, a glass ot hot chocolate, with all the eagerness and glow ot a child swallowing spoontuls oi ice cream. The Captain very much liked to spend his time this way and a calm voyage always attorded him infinite and hilarious delight. He loved to con- verse with some ot the passengers about the poetry ot Keats and Shelley. That day he was riroettitied that there was a poet on the boat who was ever trying to revive the poetry' of Gertrude Stein: a poet who gave lectures, but who on this voyage, was taking a rest. The Captain lett his hot .chocolate and poetry and found the poet reading aloud some ot Gertrude Stein's rough and unintelligible lines. His voice rolled tlowing-like, garrulously, lending rare rhythm 'to the poetry. l-le talked to the waves and at tirst Captain Dortman was afraid to bother this eccentric person. The Captain strolled back and forth and-waited till the poet closed his book and leaned against the ra-il. The Captain ap- proached and called out: VW' Hello, my dear sir. V How do you do? M I am Captain Dortman ot the Good Ship Lollipop. And who are you, my dear sir? . - - My name is Milton Shapiro. , l suppose that you are enjoying your trip very much. You seem to be engrossed in poetry. ' Oh, yes. Poetry instills in me a rare liveliness that tends to embalm me with a togginess. l am sometimes senseless and feel nothing but the lively rhythm that Gertrude Stein creates. lndeed, l believe that she is a world in herself. The Captain pocketed his hands and listened with strained ears to the words ot this poet who was surely an odd Worshipper ot poetry. l have attempted to read Gertrude Stein many times, said the Captain, but l have always found her work hard to understand. She seems to like verbal hardness and, as a result, she writes unintelligible stuff. l have strug- 22'

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THE ELCHANITE LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT tEditor's Note:-When the time comes tor the graduates to bequeath a will, it gets so, that we leel like a bunch ot haughty benetactors. It feels strange that we are really giving up something inherent, something with which we could never have parted. The Spring is probably to blame, because this perennial obsession has a peculiar tendency to give one a morbid propensity to sloth and browsing. What can one do, however, when one graduates but once in a iiiemne, and has only one opportunity to present a bunch ot jolly pedants and teachers with nonsensica objects of attection?l We, the Class of tune, l935, leave our alma mater gladly, yet sadly. Four long and seemingly endless years, we have labored and toiled, played pranks and studied, and have secretly accumulated a vast fortune of Priceless Value. Thus, we being extremely kind, fully sound in mind and body, and it being a custom tor meshugaasl for a graduating class to draw up their last will: we do hereby make, ordain, publish, and declare this to be our last will and testament. We bequeath, bestow, give, and devise unto our harassed faculty- To Mr. Leibowitz, we leave bigger and better chocolate bars. To Mr. Kronish, we leave hopes of his writing a new history book. To Mr. Astrachan, we leave his famous expression, so what. To Mr. Hartstein, we leave a new monetary system based on Yeshiva checks. To Dr. Charles, we leave our Yiddish words. To Mr. Matz, we leave hopes for a Ph.D. To Mr. Goldstein, we leave hopes for a trip to Gay Paree. To Mr. Abrams, we leave our personal belongings consisting of non-negoti- able, not excused admit slips. To Mr. Orleans, we leave an unabridged dictionary. Furthermore, I, Wolf Lifschitz, leave Mr. Kronish his famous short stories. I, Israel Gerber, leave some of my quibbles to Mr. Astrachan. I, Herzl Freed, leave Mr. I-Iartstein the position of Head of the Economics Department. I, Milton Shapiro, leave Mr. Kronish bigger and better stooges. I, Nathan Bernstein, leave Mr. Lebowitz all my scientific knowledge. I, Manuel Lipschitz, leave a movie house on the Yeshiva premises so that T. A. students won't have far to walk. I, Irving Ehrenthal, leave Mr. Astrachan my new theory on psychology. I, Frank Schonfeld, leave Mr. Kronish William Randolph Hearst. I, Benjamin Kreitman, leave Mr. Leibowitz his perennial smile. I, Harold Polikoff, leave Mr. Astrachan an amplifier through which he may tell students that he Can't hear a word. I, Iacob Abramowitz, leave some soft beds for Mr. Hartstein's Economics period. Sworn to and subscribed before me this 7th day of May, 1935. Benjamin Kreitman, Notary Public. My commission expires May 6. 1935. '21

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THE ELCHANITE gled over her poetry, in fact, grappled ferociously, exerting the effort to over- come a tiger, but I have been unsuccessful. On the other hand, the poems of Keats are lively in a way that seduces you. When I sip my hot chocolate, with the steam rising from it as curls of smoke, and read poetry, a hurricane couldn't bother me. The poet broke out in a smile that seemed to crack the corners of his mouth. The Captain took Shapiro by the arm and both strolled the deck, engaged very much in the possibility that Keats' poetry and beauty will be immortal, and Shelley's egocentricity will doom him. Their delightful talking, however, was only ephemeral, for Leibowitz, the radio operator, came running, panting, thirsty for a peaceful breath. Captain Dorfman, sir, there seems to be an undue commotion on the ship, for my messages from the States are coming over the wires full of static. I hope you will be able to do something. A commotion did you say? All right, I will see that it is stopped immedi- ately. Meanwhile, return to your radio. The Captain turned to Shapiro and excused himself. He walked hastily on and Shapiro engaged himself pleas- antly by watching the nervousness of the hopping waves. The Captain searched the ship, like a bird looking for bits of food in the grass, to locate the source of commotion. He walked hurriedly, the motion of his feet like that of a skipping rooster. His conversation with the poet Shapiro, that promised to be diverting and delightful, had been interrupted, and this tended to raise his ire. Suddenly, he was frightened by a roar of voices that came from a state- room. The voices were rudely high and boisterous: the language used was very profane. The Captain knocked on the door rather importantly, never losing control of his dignity. The door was opened by a young man with a cigar stuck between his lips like a gas jet in the wall, and yelled: Yes, sir. What is it? I am sorry, said the Captain, but you people are making unnecessary noise and commotion: all that will have to be stopped. He looked into the room and saw reporters and writing men surrounding a man who had a bushy mustache decorating his face. All the men quieted themselves, and the man in the center continued with all the simplicity in tone of voice as a child who mindlessly promises its mother to be good. The man had thick eyebrows that shook at every twist of mouth. The Captain entered the room and closed the door behind him. He listened mindfully to the words of this man, who was like a lone dandelion surrounded by standing green grass. His motions lent rhythm to his voice, his speech was omnipresent. You see, then, he said joyously, that with the I-l.I.E.P., one rarely has to depend on his relatives or his government for luxuries. Everyone will be on an equal footing, all eating the same food and living in the same way, with abundance of freedom and democracy. At this point the Captain whispered to one of the men and inquired, What is this 'H.I.E.P.?' The reporter turned about and stared, his eyes reaching out beyond his skull, like promonotories on a cape. '23