Verhovayak Lapja, 1944 (27. évfolyam, 1-52. szám)
1944 / Verhovay Journal
Page 6 Verhovay Journal August 10, 1944 The COMB... The Ferret Sez (Continued from Page 5) OURSELVES! Some of the kids want the Mock Wedding again, so concentrate on that too. We don’t want too many dry speeches —one witty Master of Ceremonies, and a few important speakers will be sufficient. Concentrate on talent in all families—would like this to be strictly amateur stuff by VERHOVAY MEMBERS and FRIENDS. Polished stuff is OK, but Original and Humorous stuff is better. I never did like to sit through a banquet listening to dry speeches and dull entertainment, and I know 99.44% of you don’t like it any better. We can have a swell meal, lots of entertainment of a sprightly nature, an hour or so of rest, and then THE DANCE in the evening. As usual, 429 females Will wear their formals, even tho no one else does. What a rare opportunity for some of you to Wear that beaut you’ve been saving up for a special occasion •—me, I ain’t got one yet, but may! 0 * * * Look, kids, Ye Editor will crawl down my throat if I don’t end this, so until next issue, have fun, and live by the motto our graduating class had, “LIVE, LOVE, LAUGH AND LEARN", and you’ll be contented with the little you’ve got! 'i HIS SON God sacrificed His only Son; It was, “His Will Be Done!” äis loving heart o’er us did yearn; Asking of us only repentance in return. His Son left His abode To help us with our load. He died for us on the cross; Twas our gain, not God’s loss. In vain He did not die, For now He reigns on high! We must remember, He did say, That if we would live His way, We’ll share with Him ‘Eternal Day’. MARGARET C. BARA New Castle, Pa. I couldn’t scream for I have no voice; I couldn’t rebel for I am not human; I could merely await my fate in the quietude of the shrubbery beneath the dressing room window. Why? Because I am merely a comb. Yes, an ordinary plastic comb with a gold plated metal band that was thrown from the dressing room window and, that having broken off, is resting about a foot from me. How did all this happen, you are probably wondering? Well, I’ll start from the beginning. Like all other ordinary combs, I originated in a factory where there were thousands of my kind except for the gold band that covered me at the top. It distinguished me from the rest. I was placed with a brush and mirror into a box lined with sky-blue satin that was soft to the touch and lovely to look at. I remained there for a long, long time until, after what seemed eternity, the lid was opened. We were now in a glass showcase where people would occasionally stand about and admire us. I looked around and from what I could see we were in a somewhat well-supplied drugstore. Days and weeks passed and finally a gentleman of about thirty, talked with the proprietor, exchanged glances with us and finally we three, the mirror, brush and myself, the comb, were removed from the showcase and wrapped in tissues. The next time we emerged from darkness, we were in an elaborate dressing-room. A woman with yellow blonde hair looked upon us with forced pleasure. “How lovely, George!” she exclaimed, although something in her voice betrayed her, revealing her true feeling. “What is the occasion?” “Must there always be an occasion, Joyce? I want you to have it,” replied the gentleman, trying not to notice her manner of distaste. After the gentleman left, the blonde woman, Joyce by name, arranged us upon her dressing table. Nearer to the lights, I took in what I saw with displeasure. She might have been pretty but her heavily painted lips and mascaraed eyes gave her the appearance of an artificial china doll. She ran me through her bleached hair briskly until I thought my teeth would wear down to bristles. Then she carelessly threw me upon the dressing table and muttered, “He brings me this comb, brush and mirror instead of an emerald bracelet or perhaps a diamond ring.” She seemed openly disturbed as she threw on her fur wrap and left the dressing room. Glancing about the room, everything I saw, the theatrical grease paint, her countless costumes and gowns, led me to believe she was an actress. The room, however, was none too tidy with costumes strewn in all directions and over chairbacks. A persistent little fly had worked its way between the screen and the window, kept lighting upon my teeth, constantly annoying me. Being an ordinary comb with no human powers, I could do nothing but endure it. The clock on the dressing table was striking five when the door opened again and the blonde rushed in, locked the door, threw her wrap upon a chair and sat before her dressing table. She removed her smart black glove and shook it. Alas! A sparkling diamond the size of a pinhead lay on the table. It was tiny but beautiful and her eyes were aglow with emotion at the thought of possessing such a jewel. She fondled it and then, as if awakening from a dream in stark realization of something fearful, she turned her head, looking about nervously. Then she muttered, “They’ll never know I took it. I hated Velma. She has so many beautiful jewels while I have only a few. They will never suspect me.” “A place to hide it—I musl find a place to hide it,” she went on. Then she looked at me. She removed the metal covering and inspected the plastic. Hastily she reached for her cuticle scissors and gouged a small disc within the plastic, placed the diamond within the disc and covered it with the band. After arranging the table, she began to dress for dinner. Muttering to herself again, she said “It is no good to me in its present form. I shall pawn it and with the money, buy a ring or bracelet.” She was now spraying herself with that odd-smelling fluid known as perfume and sprayed some in her eyes. She reached for a handkerchief but it was not there. She ran to her wrap and emptied the pockets. Then she remembered. She had left her handkerchief in Velma’s dressing-room. ‘T must get it back without them knowing,” she said, regarding me nervously. But as she reached the door, a tall man in policeman’s uniform was entering with the practically screaming redhaired Velma. The policeman dangled a white handkerchief with J. J. initialed in the corner before her terrified eyes and fairly shouted, “Does this belong to you?” She faltered, denied it and finally admitted it was hers. “She must have the jewel, the FAMOUS CLOSE SHAVES By Barter Sol (1771) VOLTAIRE WALKING IN LONDON, WHERE FEELING WAS ANTI-FRENCH, WAS ATTACKED BY A MOB. SA5ACIOUSLY,'HE CRIED, "ENGLISHMEN ! Yot! WANT TO KILL ME BECAUSE I AM FRENCH! AM I NOT PUNISHED ENOUGH BY NOT BEING ENGLISH?" THE CONFOUNDED MOB CHEERED AND THEN PROVIDED SAFE PASSAGE. - -- ■ I |j^ AN UNARMED CREW OF A DOWNED BRITISH PLANE, ENCOUNTERING ARMED ITALIANS, CONVINCED THEM THEY WERE ON ENGLISH TERRAIN AND HAD NO CHANCE. THE GULLIBLE ITALIANS SURRENDERED AND followed the airmen back to the ENGLISH LINES. ~ -------------------■ » BARBER SOL SAYS: HITLER’S WEAK IN THE CLINCHES HE VEILS SO WHEN IT PINCHES KfEPAUmGBONDS STORK IN A STORM... r IN A CROWDED LIFEBOAT, IN PITCH DARKNESS, WITHOUT INSTRUMENTS AND ANAESTHETICS, PR. CONLY, WHO FORTUNATELY WAS ONE OF THE SURVIVORS OF THE SHIPWRECK, SUCCESSFULLY DELIVERED A CHILD TO MRS. MOHOROVICIC. r.r” *"*-------cat! She always hated me,” the hysterical Velma shouted and seemed about to strike the blonde. The policeman held them apart and later called a matron from headquarters. Meanwhile, he questioned Joyce as to the whereabouts of the gem. She retorted icily that she knew nothing of the diamond and added that she left the handkerchief in Velma’s room when she had borrowed mascara the previous day. And while the policeman was firing questions at Joyce, I, knowing the secret all this time, could have given it away in one second, but no, I am not human, merely a comb, so I waited until the police matron came. The policeman searched the room, the greasepaint jars, chairs, drawers, clothing, but no diamond was forthcoming. Twice he overturned the comb but did not remove the metal cover. Then the red-head and the officer left the room, turning the blonde over to the police matron to be searched. She was reluctant and felt offended for having to remove her clothes. She thought fast. After the woman discovers the gem is not on Joyce, they will give the room another thorough search. She began to use vile language and started throwing things, a jar of cold cream, then the mirror and finally, being an actress, she made it look authentic by throwing me, the comb, past the matron near the window and I fell amid the shrubbery to the ground. In the excitement, they forgot about me. The metal band fell off and rolled a few yards from me, the diamond, yes, it rolled away, too, but I know not where. They searched the room again but found nothing and finally chose another suspect. I saw the sky through the towering foliage, the darkening shadows of dusk which was followed by darkness. A bright light was flashed upon me. It was the blonde who, after the police left, came searching for the jewel that she placed within the hollow disc. She looked me over but the gem was not there. She searched the ground, digging her claw-like nails into the soft earth in an endeavor to unearth the precious stone but to no avail. She kept this up night after night. Perhaps the diamond was not meant for one who would steal. That happened five years ago tonight but even now, while I am ageing and discoloring with time and the elements, I can see the blonde woman whose features have altered considerably and is hardly recognizable as the once-beautiful actress, trod about the shrubbery beneath the dressing-room window, searching for the diamond she will never find. ELIZABETH KOLESAR. Branch 296 Box 202, Glassmere, Pa.---------------V--------------Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers. It may not be difficult to store up in the mind a vast quantity of facts within a comparatively short time, but the ability to form judgments requires the severe discipline of hard work and the tempering heat of experience and maturity. —Calvin Coolidge 1st LX. HENRY J. PHILLIPS 1st Lt. Henry J. Phillips is the son of Mr. and Mrs. Joseph Phillips, of 29 E. Forest Ave., Bellevue, Pittsburgh, Pa. He is' a member of branch 481 of Bellevue, and the brother of our Deputy Auditor, Mrs. George Lauranchok, nee Emma E. Phillips. He was drafted in June, 1942 and began his military service as a private. Displaying exceptional qualities he soon was promoted and enjoys now the rank of a first Lieutenant. (Incidentally, Cpt. Lauranchok, our Deputy Auditor’s husband also started out as a buck private ) Lt. Phillips is stationed at present at Smyrna, Tennessee and serves as budget and fiscal officer. He is 29 years old. Before entering military service he was employed by the Blownox Steel Co., as accountant, after having graduated from the University of Pittsburgh with a B.S. degree. Good luck to you, Lt. Phillips!---------------V--------------The Prizes for the John Bencze Anniversary Contest Mr. Alexander Gyulay, Supreme Organizer herewith announces that the following prizes shall he distributed among the 15 winners of the membership drive: 1.) A 17 jewel watch, value $50. — 2.) A 15 jewel watch, price $40. _ 3, 4, 5) Each a leather brief-case, value from $25 to $30. — 6.) A Waterman Pen and Pencil set, price $23. — 7, 8, 9 each): A Schaeffer Pen and Pencil set, price $20. — The remaining prizes consist of Waterman, Eversharp and Parker fountain pens ranging in value from $8.75 to $16. CONDITIONS. Each application counts as many points as the amount of dollars for which it is written. $1,000 application counts 1000 points, $500 application 500 points, etc. Juvenile term applications: 4 applications of 25 cents each or 6 applications of 15 cents each count 1000 points. The contest ends on the 10th of September. Only applications written to be issued during the month of August take part in the contest.
