Published Bi-Weekly by the Students of
The Greexsboro High School
Greensboro, N. C.
Founded by the Class of ’21
Entered as Second-Class Matter at the
Post Office, Greensboro, N. C.
Glenn Holder Editor-in-Chief
Lindsay Moore Business Manager
Ernest Williams, Asst. Bus. & Circ. Mgr,
Margaret Ferguson, Betty Brown
Georgia Stewart, Carlton Wilder
Elizabeth Rockwell Exchanges
Marguerite Harrison Alumni
Claud Sikes Humor
Henry Biggs Graham Todd
Paul Wimbish Mary Tilley
Elizabeth Campbell Hilda Smith
J. D. McNairy John Mebane
Fannie Rockwell James Clements
Nell Thurman Marguerite Mason
Louis Brooks Adelaide Hilton
Cartoonist Edmund Turner
Faculty' Board of Advisers
Miss Inabelle G. Coleman Chairman
Mr. W. R. Wunsch Mr. A. T. Rowe
Mrs. Mary S. Ashford
Don’t forget that laws are made to
improve conditions.—The Chatterbox,
Danville High School, Danville, Va.
Happiness is largely an attitude or
condition of mind—the way one looks
at things.—The Travalon of Avalon
High School, Avalon, Pa.
Play fair with yourself and everyone
will be fair with you.—The Atlantic,
Iowa, High School “Needles.”
Whew! High Point completely faded
out of the picture. The Purple Whirl
wind whirled ’em dizzy. Atta pushin’
the pigskin across, gang!
Never let trouble trouble you and it
will quickly disappear.
Aged Lumberton man attributes his
longevity to hard work. If that is
the requisite of long life many a tea
hound will die young.
Miss Summered allowed as how we
reminded her of the statue of “The
Winged Victory of Samathrace” which
she had seen on the stage. That was
all very well, but the statue didn’t have
any head. Figure it out for yourself.
The Stadium Drive was one whopping
big success, and G. H. S. did it’s part
in big league style. Incidentally, out
of 3,6()0 students in the city school sys
tem exactly 3,660 contributed toward
Wonder why so many of the mascu
line population of G. H. S. were sick
Armistice Day? Tommy Milton sure
burned the wind at the Charlotte Races,
so they say—the newspapers, of course.
Various and sundry sheiks sighed and
wished that again they were in childhood
days. Senior Mascot Paul had all the
peaches in school making ardent love to
Putting dynamite caps in school
stoves I ’At’s the kind of tricks a cer
tain dignified faculty member pulled
in his school days. Straight goods: He
confessed it himself. And then he
soaks you an hour after school for a lit
tle edifying discourse among yourselves.
I.and O Goshen! But such is life.
A Charlotte editor celebrated his fif
tieth year of newspaper work recently.
Our experience has led us to believe that
the editorial span of years is much
shorter than that.
Turkey Day is here. For the past few
weeks Mr. Gobbler has slunk around
with apprehensive eye. His fears have
been realized, for he is now in Turkey
Heaven—or is there a Turkey Hades?
Of all the holidays the most pleasant
is Thanksgiving. Nothing produces
such a sense of comfort and well-being
as to lie back in one’s favorite easy
chair before a cheerfully blazing fire
after eating a hearty dinner, and to
meditate upon the blessings which are
Since the beginning of time some sort
of Thanksgiving celebration has been
held by the peoples of the earth when
the crops are harvested and the results
of the weary months of toil are at
hand. Even heathen nations have felt
the urge to give thanks to some divine
power beyond their comprehension,
which has been given expression in the
various forms of harvest festivals.
The colors of the rainbow have caught
and reflected it in the ripened products
of nature. The leaves are heaped upon
the ground in great golden and crimson
sploches of color. The pumpkins in
the field are dull lumps of molten gold.
The corn leaves crackle in the wind.
The air has an exhilirating tang to it
that makes one tingle all over with the
mere joy of living. Nature has garbed
herself in all the riotous beauty and
color of which she is capable, in prep
aration for a brief season of Thanks
giving before the wintry blasts rage
over the land and change all to one dull,
lifeless monotone of gray. Surely no
one can look about him and not be
grateful for the God-given privilege of
life and the opportunities for eternal
betterment that are every day presented
to those who seek for them. Yet those
who have most, appreciate what they
have the least.
All of us have ample reasons for giv
ing thanks on this day. This year es
pecially should a wave of spiritual grat
itude sweep the country. The nation
has prospered; there have been no na
tional calamities; business has been es-
liecially good; nature has yielded her
fruits in abundance; God has been es
pecially kind to us during the past
And so on Thanksgiving Day let us all
stop for a short time and consider what
we owe to God from whom all blessings
come, and in the words of Phillips
Brooks: “Be careful for nothing, but in
everything, by prayer and supplication,
with thanksgiving, let our requests be
made known unto God—for that and
that alone is peace.”
It has been said that all jicople may
be divided into one of two classes:—
the savers and the wasters, the jirovi-
dent and improvident, the thrifty and
thriftless and the “haves” and “have
nots”. In Christ’s parable of the talents
there is a graphic picture of the “haves”
and “have-nots". The former were the
industrous servants who doubted their
talents. The “have-nots” hid their tal
ents and went on empty-handed.
The average person tliinks of thrift
chiefly in terms of money saving. While
that is important, it is only one phase
of thrift. The really thrifty person is
one who saves not only money, but time,
strength and effort. Thrift, moreover,
means mental and moral discipline. It
means exercising will power, sacrificing
pt rsonal desires, and overcoming temp
A thrifty iierson is a happy medium
between a spendthrift and a miser, eith
er one of whom is an undesirable citi
zen. There is no one who is not bene
fited by the saving habit. The family
of small income, the working girl, the
boy starting at the bottom of the ladder
of industry, the business man and capi
talist alike need a surplus, whether it
be money laid aside for a rainy day.
money for investment, or working capi
tal. “Make all you can, save all you
can", is the advice attributed to John
“Dost thou love life?” asks Benjamin
Franklin in his Almanac. “Then do not
squander time, for that is the stuff that
life is made of.” Another noted man
observed, “If I know what a boy does
in his spare time, I can tell you what
kind of a man he will be.” Furthermore,
every individual has exactly the same al
lotment of this precious fabric of life.
The wise are those who know how to
use it to good advantage.
Someone has divided people into ten
different type groups by which the
worth and dependability of a man can
be measured, and classified them, giv
ing the percentage of dependability and
efficiency for each group respectively.
He has catalogued everyone under these
ten brief heads, and each of us holds
a position somewhere on the ladder.
Flis list it as follows:
100% Those who say, “I did.”
90% Those who say, “I will.”
80% Those who say, “I can.”
70% Those who say, “I think *I
60% Those who say, “I might.”
50% Those who say, “I think I
40% Those who say, “What is it?”
30% Those who say, “I wish I
20% Those who say, “I don’t know
10% Those who say, “I can’t.”
0% Those who say, “I won't.”
The question is, to what group do we
honestly belong? Are we rated among
the “mule-headed” kind who stubbornly
say, “I won’t”, in reply to every re
quest? This type of boy or girl is rated
lower than even the fellow who “can’t”;
for he can do, but won’t, whereas the
inference is that the “can’t type” would
if he could. The inference is decidedly
in his favor, and he has “the benefit of
the doubt”, so to speak. The same is
true of the person who “just doesn’t
1 hen there is the chap who must al
ways know what it is, how much it will
cost him in either trouble, labor, or mon
ey, and what will he gain; he is willing
to do it if he gets enough out of it,—
a credit, or, perhaps, an extra grade;
and if ample remuneration be offered,
he will do the assigned task zealously
and well. Nevertheless, the extent of
his ardor is governed hy the reward at
True, it is far better to be the kind of
individual that “might” or says, “I can,”
than a stubborn slacker; indeed, there is
such a difference in attitude that they
should hardly be mentioned in the same
breath; but there is the highest rank
whose summits have only been attained
by a sturdy few, men who can look you
in the eye and say in a steady voice,
\\ e did it” men faithful, dejiendable,
and true. Such men win the battles of
life, they do things, and experience a
certain satisfaction after a task well
Are we classed with those one hund
red percent, trustworthy and depend
able, or among those who shirk? In
which camp do we belong?
A grateful mind
By owing owes not, but still pays, at once
Indebted and discharged.
Thanks are justly due for things got
By Carlton Wilder
Gracious Father, we are thankful for the joy the year has brought;
For the radiant hopes and blessings; for the lessons kindly taught.
We are thankful, heavenly Father, for the good Thanksgiving Day;
For a happy, prosperous nation, for the chance to work and play.
For our health, dear God, we thank Thee; for the glamour that is youth;
For the joy of ever growing in the endless search for truth.
From the lover peasant to the lord.
The turkey smokes on every board.
“But whether I live an honest man.
And hold my integrity firm in my clutch,
I tell you, my brother, as plain as I can.
It matters much.”
Tbe basis of all character is honesty.
No man can go very far without it, or
at least no man can attain the highest
of which he is capable without it. Dis
honesty breeds nothing but unhappiness
and remorse. It’s fruits are moral and
mental degradation and sjiiritual bank
Recently a number of valuables were
stolen from the clothes of the members
of the football squad while they were
on the field playing a game. A con
siderable sum of money, several fountain
pens and other valuable articles were
included. Their loss was keenly felt
by the players, especially since they
were stolen while the squad was on the
field fighting for their school.
Probably a grammar school student,
or possibly a high school boy, took those
articles. Petty thievery it was, but up
on the character of the stealer it will
have as devastating an effect as the most
terrible of crimes unless he realizes the
gravity of it and returns the money.
Such an act would be of more benefit
to him than the treasures of Midas.
Such little things have started many a
person upon the road to moral and men
tal catastrophe. And yet the most pa
thetic ])art of it is that the guilty ones
may not realize the extent and prob
able far-reaching effects of that one
comparatively small crime.
During the past month none of the
boys on the football squad, failed on
a single subject. This was a splendid
record and one to be commended in
students who give so much of their time
to the school athletics.
It is seldom the case that students
who participate strongly in athletics
lead in their class work also. However,
the most intelligent game of ball is
played by those who have a little “book-
sense. A real football game is com
posed of as much brain work as physical
work. The signaling, the passes, all re
quire brain work and alertness to the
It is the well-rounded man that this
school needs, who is out for everything
and supports every phase of the school
curriculum. It is the man who plays
football and knows his Latin too that
is an asset to his school. If a boy can
be a star on his team and likewise lead
his classes, is not he looked up to more
than the “book-worm” or the mere ath
lete? He has not only book-knowledge
but a sense of fairness and justice which
will serve him always.
If our football team can keep a good
scholarship record as well as a good
athletic one we shall be proud for it
to represent us on any field.
Another November has rolled around
bringing with it Thanksgiving Day and
its atmosphere of cheer and gladness,
ushering in plump turkeys with their
delicious meat and rich brown gravy;
cranb(|rry sauce, scarlet, and having
that toning quality that makes the eat
ing of turkey doubly delightful; pump
kin pies and puddings. And after the
Thanksgiving dinner what a spirit of
contentment falls like a restful vapor
around the hearty eater benumbing his
senses as some soothing drug—content
ment, then peaceful slumber. As the
sleekier dreams, the Spirit of Thanks
giving takes him back through the ages
on billows of slumber, and he dreams of
joyful ceremonies in centuries past,
among the cultured Greeks, the ambi
tious Romans, the law-abiding Hebrews,
the sturdy Saxons, and the strict Puri
tans of Plymouth. The feaster lies en
tranced in deepest slumber.
But Thanksgiving means more than
mere feasting, more than turkey, more
than a well-rounded meal. It is a day
of joy and thankfulness, a day when
the family, seated around the hearth
once more, offers thanks to the Creator
for the manifold blessings of the year,
for health, and home, and happiness.
Oh, it sets my heart a clickin’ like the
tickin’ of a clock
When the frost is on the pumpkin and
the fodder’s in the shock.