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

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can There ever be gained on earfh The knowledge we grasped so quickly affer deafh. Then shall fhe frue peace come - fhe peace of living men, when fhe land shall be worked and men shall love, and ideas shall progress foward fheir Creafor. Then - shall we foo, live. The boy above proceeded unmolesfed fo fhe recruifing office in fhe village and answered haughfily, fearlessly, as fhe churlish voice sfabbed: Name? DUST By Morfimer J. Rubin Thaf man comes from dusf, And fo dusf will refurn, Wifh fhaf ancienf adage I have no more concern Since fafe so decreed, Thaf is a final page. Of whaf avail appeal By prophef or by sage? Sfill fhaf decree. Though final in scope, Bears in ifs making A fair ray of hope. Coming from dusf, ere To dusf we are senf, There is in befween A pause fo fermenf. A pause fo creafe, To grow, fo mafure, Thaf a mere speck of dusf May long well endure. In ancienf walls Of learning Fires of Torah flicker Yef burning. Sifs fhe sfudenf As of yore Delves info Torah Law and lore. Gazes info fhe flame's Dying embers THE ETERNAL FLAME Sfirred, He fhinks Remebers. Of a world oufside Calling Serene, beaufiful Yef appalling, Of charming ensnaring Offers Of luring enficing Proffers The Torah calls To reckoning Tenaciously whispering Beckoning. By Saul Leifer Quickly approaches The onslaughf Decisively fhe baffle ls foughf. The pleasure of many He decries 'Tis inane, foolish He sighs. Thoughfs of Torah He minds Mundane fhings He rescinds. He refurns once more To his desire The flame bursfs again lnfo efernal fire. Thfffv ELCHANWE

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Your number is I7653 - line up To The riohf - def your uniform - qo down To Company M - give The commander This cerfificafe - you've been accepfed - noble work you've chosen, boy - congraTulaTions. He lined up, gof his uniform, wenf clown To Company M, gave The com- mander his cerTificaTe, he had been accepTed, noble work he had chosen - con- graTulaTions. Congrafulafionsl ATTenTion! ATTenTion! March! PresenT arms! LefT! Righf! ATTenTion! Presenf arms! Congrafulafionsl ATTenTion! ATTenTion! March! March! March! Zero Hour! CongraTulaTions! March! CongrafulafionslATTenTion! CongraTu- laTions! March! March! -- His hoT blood sfifled The live grass. For a momenf, he lay on The scarred ground, hunched up, holding Tighfly The hole in his belly, as if he were guarding someThing precious in his arms, his moufh opening and closing. AfTer he died, his mouTh remained open as if he were grinning in curious asTonishrnenT. A clear sky illuminafed The rough gravel road Twenfy years laTer. The sTars pierced The earTh wifh Their brighf icy rays. BriTTle pebbles crunched under his sTiff soles as he sTreTched his sTrides Toward The quainf European village. He ThoughTs sfumbled in all direcTions: Here he was, seTTing forTh on The greaTesT advenfure of his life. He would give his life for his counfry. He sfepped info The cemefery briskly and began To whisTle. Inside The houses of The dead, The dead Talked. LeT's go up and sTop The boy who, aT This very momenf walks To join us. leT us Tell him abouf life. LeT us, who know all, who undersfand everyfhing, prevail upon him. LeT us make him live! shouTed a corpse - No. I7653. He had died bravely on The bafflefield, for his counfry. ,A brown, one-legged cadaver replied. No, Frifz Dubois, we dead cannoT warn The living. l have come To Think of life as an exfremely cooperafive arrangemenf where all members musT conform To rules. Deafh, or expulsion from This social arrangemenf resulTs when The expelled member has ceased To conTribuTe To The good of The whole, when his advice is no longer heeded. A Terror which is so exTraordinary ThaT iT cannoT be imagined by The living, kills The person who had experienced iT. Living people cannoT undersfand The sensafion of a Tremendously powerful elecfric currenf - elecfrocufed persons Therefore die. Seclusion is anofher phase of This Theory. A person who is shuT up by himself cannoT be socially acTive - he dies. A person, as he grows older, finds less and less sympafhizers and lisfenersi he deparfs from his world. We. boy, have had a Terrifying frighT3 we died, for no one could undersfand our sufferings and moreover, no one would follow our advice - noT even you in your day. BuT ThaT ifself is The very reason we died. Now you Too know, for you Too are dead. Do noT repeaf The ridiculous aTTempT we made To save you. The dead cannoT speak To anyone. Only by a long painful evolufion El-Cl'lANlvlE R has V Y liwenTy-nine

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DECAY By MarTin D. Keller And There came a plague . . . The cry oT The aTTlicTed was heard Trom Dan To Beer-Sheba, Trom The depThs oT The grave To heavens dome. YeT The harvesT was bounTiTul: Trom The earTh sprang TorTh The golden billowing waves oT grain. The TruiTs OT indusTry were abundanT1 a sTeady sTream oT produce poured TorTh Trom TacTory and shop. For This was noT a plague oT locusT, nor oT pesTilence, nor oT hunger, nor oT droughT. IT was none oT These. YeT man was Tamished, and The mulTiTudes were parched wiTh ThirsT. Man was bowed down, crushed beneaTh The burden oT his sorrows. For he had creaTed a ServanT. And iT had grown sTrong, and bursT iTs TeTTers, and lo! lT was masTer and man was The slave. No sunlighT peneTraTes The darkness oT The slums, oT The greaT meTropolis. Side by side, wiTh The grandeur of The cloud-capped mounTains oT sTeel and sTone. sTands This symbol oT man's degradaTion. ln a liTTle room, in The cenTer oT This TiITh and squalor siTs a small man, benT, The despair oT cenTuries wriTTen in The deep lines oT his wiThered Tace, and he speaks:- My Triend was a mild man, and he lived and did as he was Told. LasT year he began To cough and spiT blood, and he was Told ThaT he was no longer needed aT The place where he worked. He wenT home, and he cried. He was a sTrong man, a big man, and when he cried like a child, iT was sTrange and Terrible. LasT week his wife Took sick. He wenT down To The sTore To geT some milk and bread. He was noT The same man. His Tace was yellow, and his eyes were dim. He was benT, and Thin, and worn. He had no money. They said, 'NOT' He said he would work Tor The Tood, buT They sTill said, 'NOT' Slowly, he Turned and walked ouT oT The sTore and down Toward The shop, where he used To work. He sTood up sTraighT, and shouTed. He cursed and cried, and casT bricks aT The shop, unTil They Took him away. He died in a cell The nexT morning. His broTher sorrowed Tor him. He lisTened To a man speaking on a box, in a public place. He joined This man's group. He didn'T wish To waiT like his broTher. He wanTed To acT, To do Things, To TighT. MeeTings were held, and we were Told ThaT The Time had come Tor us To TighT and casT The Ercnfwire Wm ii viii Y iWTg,IyQ,Q