Nothing will tell you more about the past of Ithaca High School than the Archives of The Tattler. Nestled into the back of E wing, in a small but mighty room, are filingcabinets containing bundles and bundles of past Tattler issues. As the Tattler Archivist and history enthusiast, it is my pleasure to bring a new life to the minds and ideas of our former students for you to enjoy!
May 1920
A Dog’s Heroic Deed
Far up in the recesses of the great, snow-covered Alps there was, at one time, a large monastery. The monks of this monastery were, many of them, old grey-haired men, who had consecrated their lives to holy deeds. For this reason they called the monastery the “Holy Works.”
It was so far up the Alps, that these men seldom saw new faces, but their ever-faithful comrades were great, dignified, stately dogs, the St. Ber-nards, and well had they earned the name, for they were kept for the purpose of discovering lost travelers. The Alps are so covered with snow that there is always the danger of snowslides that sweep down the mountains with ever increasing velocity, until they at length come to rest in the peaceful valleys below. And they leave great desolation in their wake. Trails are blotted out, landmarks are covered or destroyed and the entire landscape is altered.
The monks, especially after heavy storms, send out their courageous dogs with small kegs, filled with a substantial food and some hot drink.
One dark night, so stormy and wild that even the monks hesitated to send their dogs out, a lone traveler was forcing his way up the Alps. He, too, was on a mission of good will. He was journeying far up the mountain to relieve a poor woman from suffering. As he toiled on, his coat became frosty and his hands began to numb with the cold. Suddenly there came a quick flurry of snow and a rush of wind an instant later, traveler, mission and all, were lost under fifteen feet of smothery, powdery snow. For a short time the man struggled and squirmed, but at the last, when he was within six feet of the air, he became drowsy. He tried to fight it off, he struggled on another foot and then succumbed. In a few minutes he was in a drowsy sleep.
The dogs rushed out into the cold, biting blast. Each dog went a different way and it fell to Bruno, the bravest dog in the monastery, to head almost straight for the lost traveler.
On he ploughed through the snow. The north wind thrust the wintry flakes cuttingly across his nostrils and eyes. Still he went, on and on. Suddenly he stopped. With a sharp, eager bark he pawed at the snow and soon discovered the now half-frozen man. He licked his face and hands and then crouched over him to warm him. Presently the man began to mutter and Bruno at last managed to awaken him.
As he took the keg and thankfully ate and drank its contents he gazed gratefully at his rescuer. The dog stood in full view, under the cold sky, the white flakes dropping slowly upon his upraised, listening head. For full ten minutes he stood there, motionless as though carved in marble. His tail drooped with the weight of the snow that fell upon it and his back was blanketed with the soft white flakes.
Suddenly the Watchman changed his position and gave vent to a series of quick, sharp, eager barks. Then all was still again.
He dropped his tail still lower and with hanging head, he walked slowly over to where the man lay and threw himself down by his side.
For a long time he lay there, motionless, except for his mournful, brown eyes and his velvet ears. As he thought he heard footsteps his soft ears would raise and his eyes would grow bright, but each time the joyful bark in his throat would subside without being uttered and his eyes would dull again.
At last he raised himself, and began to walk fitfully about, often stopping his lonely vigil to pull at the man’s coat and utter whines of distress. Once in a while he would growl deep in his throat and at last, raising his snow-covered muzzle, would give voice to a series [sic] of howls, so unearthly, so deafening and so weird that the almost frozen man beside him would moan and call for help.
Bruno, faithful, knowing, lovable Bruno, well knew that it was impossible for any animal to lie long in that cold atmosphere without freezing, but, with wonderful courage he lay down near the lost man, and heroically kept him warm. Bruno grew colder and colder until at last he no longer felt the cold. But still, hour after hour, and yet longer, he lay, warming the poor man little by little.
And so the monks, early in the morning, found them. They took them home and gently rubbed their frozen limbs. At last the man began to speak.
“The dog that saved my life! Where is he? Good, noble dog!” The monks were not surprised at this for Bruno had saved many another lost, wayward traveler.
But the good dog’s last troubles were over. About three o’clock in the afternoon, that followed his heroic deed, he passed to the place where all good dogs go. He was buried near the monastery under a great evergreen tree, and the man whose life had been saved by Bruno’s noble sacrifice, caused a monument to be put up and inscribed upon it these words:
Here lies
BRUNO
who saved 63 travelers
and who died by noble sacrifice in the performance of his duty
Erected by
Dr. Ercroft and the monks of the “Holy Works”
Monastery
Elinor Mason, ‘22.
March 1930
Cramming
Most of our teachers today warn us against “cramming.” The reason in their opinion, is that work stuffed into a pupil’s memory on the day of, or the day or week before the examination, is just so much effort wasted and lost energy, and results in no good. Some professors even say that it results in bad effects, in that work preceding it is mixed and confused with the “crammed” material.
In a way pedagogues are right and in a way they are wrong. It is impossible, obviously, to cram forty weeks’ work into three nights’ study, no matter how intense the concentration, nor how favorable the conditions. Even a genius, such as the great Charles Steinwertz, who astounded the learned doctors of Brestan by the depth of his memory and the clarity of his reasoning, would find such a task well nigh insurmountable. In this our faculty is correct. But it is astonishing the amount of work which can be read, sifted over and retained by the one night’s purposeful effort. A student with only a fair knowledge of the outlines of, let us say, history, can in one day of “stuffing” store away enough material to enable him to safely pass an examination. Most of the students at all our universities are intense and loyal worshipers of the god “Cramming” and who shall say that they are not successful? A noted athletic director said this year that the combination of hard study at four o’clock in the morning with occasional fresh air, was sure to get results.
But even the most vociferous supporters of the “art of cramming” will not deny that work “crammed” is predestined to be soon forgotten after the successful passing of the examination, and that in a few months nothing will remain except the shell of what was learned from day to day.
If you are in school to pass examinations, and graduate as soon as possible, we recommend your immediate conversion. If you are here for the purpose of acquiring as much education as you can manage, we advice day-by-day study, as less trying on both your nerves and mentality and those of your teacher.
November 1999
Culture Vultures
By Maia Sieverding ‘01
Last month a European invasion hit the home of Little Red. Exchange students from Tuttlingen, Germany and Durham, England descended on the halls of IHS for a crash course in American culture.
The Tuttlingen and Durham exchanges have been coming to IHS for years, and in return, Ithacan students have visited Germany and England. The programs allow students to see a foreign country, live with a family, and visit a very different school. So that the exchange students can see America outside Ithaca, they take day trips to various places in Canada and New York. It’s a whirlwind tour, but everyone gets a taste of something new.
One of the biggest differences the exchange students found between their home countries and America was the school system. In Germany, the Tuttlingen students go to school from 7:30 to 12:30. They have six classes and a midday break, but no lunch period. Their classes also rotate, so the schedule is different every day. Heidrun Bengsch from Tuttlingen said that what she didn’t like about the American system was our long days with the same schedule all the time. Alexander Uupferschmid added that he also preferred the German system of having the students stay in one classroom, while the teachers change rooms every period. The Tuttlingen students all agreed that American kids get more homework than they do, and have less free time.
Helen Oliver and Jennie Lester, from England, also found the American schools very different. Most noticeable to them was the lack of uniforms. They also thought the atmosphere of the classes was very different, as well as the way the students and teachers relate to one another.
The Tuttlingen students, who spend a longer time in Ithaca, were also able to notice some of the subtler differences between the two cultures. Heidrun felt that there is less of a community feeling in the Ithaca neighborhoods than in Tuttlingen. She also thought that in general, German families spend more time together in the evening. Michael Mattes thought that German teenagers are allowed to do more than Americans, even though they can’t drive until they’re 18. However, both liked the diversity in Ithaca, which they don’t have in Tuttlingen.
The English students spent a lot of their time travelling to Cooperstown, New York City, and Niagara Falls as well as local places such as the Cayuga Nature Center and Cornell. For many, the amount of open space and the landscape were something new. Along with the tourist attractions, shopping was a favorite activity (after all, this is America!).
The Tuttlingen students packed their bags on November 4th, and the English on the 7th. With new clothes and new vocabulary, they headed back to their home countries and ended the European invasion–until next year.