Newspapers / High Point High School … / March 24, 1939, edition 1 / Page 4
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Page Four THE POINTER Friday, March 24, 1939 THE POINTER OF HIGH POINT SENIOR HIGH SCHOOL High Point, N. C. Published By The Journalism Class of High Point Senior High School FRIDAY, MARCH 24, 1939 “Is Thinking Going Out of Style?” “Do we dread and try to avoid thinking seriously?” asked James Truslow Adams, author of Epic of America, in a recent article in The Rotarian. Several items seem to point to this fact. One of them is the increase of short stories. Nowadays readers seem to want shorter articles which they can read at one sitting. Another is the motion pictures. We say it is much easier to sit for one or two hours and look at the screen version of a book than to try to read the entire book- That would be terrible- But let us consider it in this way. We are going to be “geared to shallow thinking.” We are going to find ourselves wishing that all mental exertion was that easy. A third item that bears looking into is the choppy nature of radio programs of today. Subjects, on which two or three hour orations have been delivered, are taken by some radio speakers who endeavor to explain these sub jects in a fifteen or thirty minute broadcast to radio lis teners who can shut the speaker off at any time. Mr. Adams says, “I once had to broadcast on a nation-wide hookup on the subject History and was given four minutes to explain that topic to the American people.” Well, what are the reasons for all this? One of the important reasons is that we are in more or less of a ner vous hurry. We want to get places the fastest with the least effort. Dr. Henry Lewis Smith, ex-president of Davidson College, in a talk delivered at Boyden high school, Salisbury, last week stated, “Speed is one of the outstanding characteristics of the American people of to day. We want speed-speed-SPEED.” Another point is the conflict between truth and pro paganda. Some people are inclined to say “What’s the use of reading books or newspapers? It’s all propaganda.” Now we admit some.'of it is propaganda, certainly, but by all means, not all of it. We have got to sift the true from the false, and to do this we must think clearly. If we cannot do that by using our own minds, then we are at the mercy of anyone who chooses to use us. Again Mr. Adams says, “Fight these causes wherever you find them and do not lose faith.” H. sheltered from the storms of the world; and sends bright ly-colored birds flitting across the sky. Shouldn’t we sing as the birds do, fairly bursting our throats with songs of happiness, and the sheer joy of living? Everything responds to the call of Spring, the little brook ripples and sings for joy; fresh breezes whisper among the trees; the lake becomes a mirror to reflect the beauty around it, making two Springs; boats dance over the waves of the con tented sea, and all Nature’s “creeter’s” come out from their shelters, jump, laugh and play for joy. Everything is alive! Do your part in this great holiday. Be glad, sing, gain new strength, and hope that the peace and joy of Spring will be felt all over the world, letting peace and good-will reign among men, rather than selfishness and strife. G. T. ON STUDYING A LA LITTLE TOUGH GUY Now, I ain’t the kinda guy to be a softie, but, brudder. I’m giving you some dope which really has got class. I ain’t no book woim, but seeing as how d’ar ain’t but tree more months of book loining, it’s de time that some pal came out wid some sob stuff. Now take History for ex ample (and don’t blab, “You take it, pal, I don’t want any.”—or there’ll be a moid- er around here. I ain’t the kinda guy what is educated about them explorers and tings, but I’m loining them quick (I gotta-we only got tree more months) so if you don’t wanta take de rap, pal, git out dem books and start taking it all in (and I don’t mean maybe!) Poetry ain’t for tough guys like me, but if you got ta loin, you gotta loin. I ain’t got but tirty tree more lines of poetry to knock off (ain’t I got brains?) but brudders and gals, if you ain’t loining that ‘roses are red” stuff, you’d better loin it or de big boss will hand you de treat, “I’m failing you!” (and no sob stuff!) Now, it aint no bed of roses to loin all that us have to loin, but if you gotta git educated, you gotta-you see? It ain’t right for youse guys to take de rap when youse knows gooder-so let’s git around dem “big sissies” in the set up and shows ’em just how tough we am (don’t we guys eats our spinach?) No, dis job ain’t apple sauce, brudder, but remem ber dis: Roses am red Violets ar punk But if youse guys don’t start studying You am all gonna flunk! D. G. B. Five Years Ag-o SPRING IS HERE! Yes, Spring is not “just around the corner,” but is really here! Soon the trees will wear their new, fresh green frocks, frocks that will “outshine” the prettiest girl in the Easter Parade. This year Lady Spring leads the parade. This is the time for song, laughter, and happiness. When nature awakens and gives us warmth, song, and beauty, we should accept them gratefully. Color over rules the drabness of winter, paints the picture with vari ous shades of green; dots the landscape with yellow stars; hides the delicate pinks and blue in little nooks and dells. Decision to give a vaudeville, follies, or revue instead of the usual senior play, and the pre sentation of candidates for class mascot, resulting in the election of iittle Jean Kline, featured the senior class meeting held in the cafeteria last Tuesday morning. —O— Those initiated into the Nation al Honor Society included the following; seniors—James Mat tocks, Lawrepce Wagger, Mar garet Haydeli, Cora Worth Par ker, Elsie Mae Sink, Edna May Douglas, Tess McMullan, Alson Gray; juniors—Nancy Smith, So phia Taplin, Katherine Morgan, Sarah Jones, Billy Shelton, Ed ward Stirewalt, George Ci’owell. —0— Scholarships to High Point and Guilford colleges wei'e awarded to Elsie Mae Sink, John Hall, and James Parsons, and the service award was presented to TKomas Jones, president of the student body. —0— Mickey Mouse has two new companions—a gold fish and an other white rat. He seems most interested in Minnie, the rat, who, feeling that Mickey was be coming lonesome, arrived in room 202A a few days ago. —O— A newspaper, modeled after the New York Times, is to be published in connection with the studj> of George Elliot’s Silas Mai-ner by Miss Penny’s sopho more English classes. —0— The local high school golfers were quite upset when Jack Gar rett came forth to capture the number one place on the Bison golf team. —0— Following a program of acro batics given by the boys’ tum blers club. Miss Iris Welbom, Mr. Wade Marlette, and Mr. O. V. Jones, members of the high school faculty, awarded letters to athletes at assembly on March 17. —O— The usual Easter holidays in the city schools will be observed again this year, beginning with the close of school on Thursday, March 29, and continuing through Monday, April 3. —O— George Crowell Jr., of Arch dale has measles and will there fore be confined to his home for some weeks. An Interesting- Pet (By Betty Brockmann) One does not 'often think of a snake as a pet. However, the hog-nosed snake, or puff adder, is a good pet. This kind of snake is easily tameable. It appears quite dangerous, but the snake is perfectly harmless. The head of a puff adder is somewhat diamond shaped and might easily be mis taken for that of a poisonous snake. It markings are mostly black and yellow. This snake is called a hog-nosed snake because its nose is slightly flat and the nostrils make it look like a hog’s nose. The name, puff adder, sounds like that of a poisonous snake. Neverthless, the puff ad der is only a snake which, when angered, will puff itself into an enormous size and hiss like a cat. If one comes upon an angered puff adder in the woods, it may spring upon the person and try to bite him. However, the snake is un able to inflict the slightest wound. When frightened, the puff adder rolls over on its back and plays dead. If it is placed again in the proper position, it will roll back over. When left alone in this state it will slip away when danger is past. That is why we named our puff adder Major Hoople. WASTED EFFORTS By Typical Salesman CAT PARADISE There must be a paradise some where for the ghosts of lit tle kittens. With great enormous catnip trees And pans of snow foamy milk for washing furry mittens. Yes, surely, there’s a paradise for the ghosts of all good cats. Where there’s always a friend ly coushin and fire And plenty of nice fat rats. (Amy Lou Holmes) Do You Need Help? Dear Mom: What is a poor guy to do when every young lady in the school falls for him—not that I am con ceited but every where I peep— up pops some little flowers, gushes over me. What am I going to do? Bewildered Handsome. Dear Bewildered, Why not grow a beard like the people in “T’he House of David”, get a blank—a very blank expression on your face— and everytime the young lady comes up say “Boo!” If that that doesn’t get ’em—nothing will. M. Dear Grandmother, Everybody laughs at me be cause I like my hair so very long. I really can’t do anything about this—it runs in the family. Can you help me? Fuzzy. Dear Fuzzy, Maybe if you could get a dog harness, we fellow students might think that you were a French poodle—maybe we wouldn’t have to think so at that. Dear Grandma, Tell me what I can do to get myself wake up. I was born sleepy and had a relapse. If someone doesn’t wake me up, I might sleep through Christmas— and then my momma and poppa would eat all my fruits and nuts. Ho-Hum. Dear Ho, Maybe you could go to the North Pole, and spend a couple centuries. It’s so cold up there that the Polar bears stay awake all night waiting for the sun to come out — on second thought, move over, we’re sleepy too! Yawn Yawn. ' (pronounced “let me sleep’’) Good afternoon, madam. My! but you’re looking fine, and healthy, too. I’ll bet everyone in your family looks just as fine and healthy as you do, be cause you have an air of a good cook. You feed them a nice diet, don’t you? If you feed them a balanced diet, it has potatoes in it, now doesn’t it? I thought so. Now you look like a nice sensible woman, so you use “Sputter’s Spud Skinner.’’ What! You don’t use it, you never heard of it!! Oh, this is terrible, dread ful, appalling, shocking, horrible, catastrophic, calamitous. My dear lady, let me explain. “Sputter’s Spud Skinner” is a marvelous invention conceived by the in genious mind of Mr. Spud Sput ter for the purpose of peeling spuds (potatoes, to those unfa miliar with the vernacular). Ma dam, I solemnly advise you to take the chance of a life time, make hay while the sun shines, and purchase this stupen dously clever device at the sac rificial price of a dollar, ten dimes, ten times ten cents. With “Sputter’s Spud Skinner” we are offering free for nothing (and good for nothing) this delight ful little needle threader, which will save you many precious minutes each day, when you are threading your needle prepara tory to doing mending of your hubby wubbies pan-er-socks. Come on, lady, the chance of a li—Owwwww, she might of told me she was going to slam the door. CRUST OF bread" Madame La Fance, sitting midst her bottles, test-tubes and whatnot, spied a small vjal of poison on the top shelf of her medicine cabnet. Gingerly she covered herself with an old weather worn black cloak and with a hideous laugh grabbed the poison and some dry stale bread. She hid these under her cloak and like a cat ready to spring upon her prey she left the room. She dodged the strips of moonlight that came through cracks in the wall as she literally flew down the steps. Upon coming to the first door she opened it and preceded to the cabinet in the comer, ignoring the silent sleeper. After withdrawing a piece of stale bread and sprink ling it with poison she then crept out of the rom. Proceeding on through the tenement house and going through the same process every room, she returned to her little nook just as a faint glint of sun rays came inher on win dow. Again sitting at her work table trying to concentrate on a for mula, she was intermpted by a large black cat winding around her legs. Madame La Fance stroked the sleek high arch of its back and chirped in a shrill voice, “Yes, yes, Satan, our fel low roomers won’t be bothered with any more ants this summer. He! He!” Canterbury Tales Whan I frst heard alle thee seriers tak o’ The Canterbury Tales, ’me thought it something terrble eek uninteresting. Me knew I hadde to studye it by cause alle seriers hadde to. Ther came the tyme whan I did hav to, juste as I hadde thoughts and ’ow I dreded it! But magine mye suprise when I founde meself lyking it. As wee read further, thee caracters be came so muehe mor interesting than I hadde expected. Ther was the Knyght whom everybodye likede. The Norre (Continued on page six)
High Point High School Student Newspaper
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March 24, 1939, edition 1
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