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

Page 26 text:

THE ELCHANITE The 'H.l.E.P.?' Well, that stands for a 'Herring ln Every Pot.' lt is the campaign slogan of this gentleman, Senator Huey Lipschitz, who is presiden- tial candidate for l96U. The Captain put the palm of his hand to his mouth and choked a laugh that would have sounded something like the exhaust of a motor car. Indeed, what a herring in every pot would do towards aiding a depression-ridden country remained impossible. The Captain, however, shrugged his shoulders in doubt and contented himself with simply listening to the Senator's talk and abstaining from any annoying comment. The Senator continued energetically. Unemployed will be given jobs in public herring-works, shipping and dis- tributing herring and pots throughout the country. This public works program will provide millions of jobsp it will serve the people, and the herring will cost the government practically nothing. lt was then that the illustrious Hearst reporter, Pickholtz, wearing a pair of eye-glasses that looked like a bicycle with its wheels rapidly turning, like records on a phonograph, popped up rather forcefully. Senator Lipschitz, sir. l am afraid that your H.l.E.P. public works program will afford plenty of room for big scale chiselers and racketeers, as in the' case of previous relief programs. Well, Mr. Pickholtz, l will dare to say that your fear is premature. Our public works will be run by a highly efficient staff, consisting of college pro- fessors and brain-trusters, who will rarely be deficient in their unerring efforts. The Senator beamed with joy at his eloquent speaking. But, Senator Lipschitzf' continued Pickholtz rather persistently, will not your H.l.E.P. program lower the American standard of living to such a degree, that it would compare with the present low standard in Red Russia? Man, if unemployment can be done away with, and its burdening and deadening effects vanish, any standard of living could be gradually raised. Our whole program is mainly to relieve the country in such a way that people will be satisfied. The papermen shot questions at the Senator and wrote rapidly the words he answered. They all wrote eagerly and with satisfaction. The Senator ran his finger through his big mustache, that seemed to the Captain to be like the fur of a brown bear. Captain Dorfman left the cabin silently, astonished and troubled Cas if he had been walking in a green forest when a tree knocked him on his facet, all because he had seen such a crazy sort of a presidential candidate. He soon forgot, however, about the Senator. He hurried back to the poet, Shapiro, with whom he could have a light supper and talk poetry. ln the heavens the clouds rolled slowly, rounded like low waves on the ocean, with the same darkness which enveloped praying trees in autumn winds. lt was blacker in the sky and night was coming to loll in the heavens like a gloomy stranger at a roadside house. The Captain returned and found Shapiro leaning against the rail. He was smoking a cigarette, and the smoke that rose in curls was like the scene of wrangling human bodies in agony, entwined and twisted, dumb, silent and dead. 24'

Page 25 text:

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

Page 27 text:

THE ELCI-IANITE The Captain called to Shapiro and apologized, that he had kept him waiting. The Captain stared at the water, his eyes shining like door knobs. He turned to Shapiro and suddenly suggested: Let us have a light supper together right now. We could have an enjoyable time, really. Shapiro ac- cepted and with affable calmness he went with Captain Dorfman to the latter's cabin. They reached the cabin and entered. The Captain prepared for supper and ordered supper for both of them with a kind amount of assiduity. He went to his book-case and took out a volume of Keats' and Shelley's poetry. He read to Shapiro the poems of Keats. Shapiro listened with eagerness. Suddenly a knock on the door interrupted the Captain's flowing words. The Captain rose, and a troubled expression was on his face. He went to the door. A bespectacled man was at the door, dressed rather importantly, and with all the neatness and trim of an incense-bedecked flower in blooming session. Please tell me what you want, sir, said the Captain. I seem to have disturbed you. I am very sorry.. But you see, sir, I wish you would help me obtain an interview with Mayor Polikoff. I have found it so far very difficult to get near him. I hope you will be able to help me. I would be very grateful. Why is there such a necessity? asked the Captain. You see, I am editor of the Emporia Gazette and I arn covering this voyage. You see, then, that it is very important. The man spoke sympathetically and with all the poise of a full grown flower. What may your name be? inquired the Captain. My name is Freed, Herzl Freed of the Emporia Gazette. All right, Mr. Freed, if you will return after supper I will be glad to help you. Thank you, very much. Freed left the cabin, strutting like a major in the van of an army. He looked handsome from the rear and as straight as a telephone pole. His work as editor of the Emporia Gazette had proven rather light for him, for he was an experienced journalist and reporter. He was a happy newspaper man. The Captain returned to Shapiro, who was reading some of Keats' poetry to himself. When he saw the Captain, he beamed forth: This poetry is beauti- ful and merry. The two continued to talk of Shelley and his Adonais. They ate lightly and talked and ate lightly again. Freed returned to his cabin and prepared himself for supper. On his bureau he found a yellow piece of paper with an odd handwriting. It read: Do not attempt to interview Mayor Polikoff. I-I.I.E.P. 025