Leominster High School - Magnet Yearbook (Leominster, MA)

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THE MAGNET II The Way of the Transgressor IMMIE ROPES sat on the back steps, Tuesday, bemoaning his fate. J Disregarding utterly the pile of wood that must be sawed, and the corn that must be husked, he sighed wearily at the thought, ‘‘ There is nothing to do.” “IT could sit here from now till doomsday, and nothing would happen,” he said. “If only a circus would come by, or even an automobile. What is the use of living, anyhow ? The same old grind, and an end to fun when school begins next week.” “ But what was that coming down the road? Nota circus, or an auto; but something just as good, or even better—Nat Saunders.” With a whoop of joy Jimmie rushed down the path, jumped lightly over the fence, and cried, ‘‘ Hey, Nat, come over to the house. Everybody’s gone to town!” This last piece of information was very necessary, for who would let Nat Saunders, that reprobate, come into his house ? Why, surely, there wouldn't be one stick on top of another when he left. ‘“‘T will just step in a minute,” sald Nat, condescendingly. ‘‘ I just came to see you on a little matter of business.” “Oh!” gasped Jimmie, partly in awe and partly at the sight of a great badge that his visitor wore. ‘ What’s that?” “Sh!” whispered Nat. ‘‘Don't say anything. Come into the barn and I'll tell you.” When the two were comfortably seated on the hay-mow, and after Jim- mie had crossed his heart and vowed he'd die if he ever told, Nat solemnly informed him that the letters “H. T. O. L.” stood for ‘‘Holy Terrors of Lebanon,” and that he had come as a special messenger to ask Jimmie to join. Would he join? Well, who wouldn’t do anything to wear such a badge as Nat wore? Why, it was larger than a policeman’s badge and certainly “shined” inore. Accordingly Jimmie was commanded by the C. T., what- ever that meant, to present himself for initiation, Saturday afternoon, at the old mill. How the days crawled by until Saturday ! Why had Nat told him Tues- day and kept him in suspense for almost a week? Finally the eventful day came, fortunately a clear one, and the candidate crept under the bars, down the field, to the mill. He shivered noticeably, for the mill was said to be haunted, such dolorous and horrible noises and groanings had been heard there lately. Suddenly the door was opened, just as Jimmie reached it, and a strong arm caught him by the collar and threw him down, down, until he landed somewhere—he thought it must be in the infernal regions, for standing around in solemn silence were grotesque figures with masks of black. Not a moment’s rest was allowed him. Unseen hands blindfolded him, and then

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10 THE MAGNET “You got us in,” said Aubrey. “Any fool could see that they're real old women, and not young girls, masquerading as such.” “Then why didn’t you say so before?” asked Paul, his voice rising a little higher. | “You thought you knew it all,” answered Aubrey, ‘and for a while you almost made me believe you did.” There was a slight rustle, of skirts, and both voices were hushed as two young women entered the room. They advanced, then stood still. “Miss Weldon!” exclaimed Paul simultaneously with Aubrey’s, ‘“ Miss Pennington! ” There was a momentary pause, and then Aubrey burst out with, “‘ Well, Paul, hereafter I will not doubt your intelligence and power of insight.” “Allow me,” said Paul to the young ladies, passing by Aubrey’s decla- ration, ‘‘to compliment you on your realistic character take-off.” He fin- ished with a solemn bow. “And allow me,” put in Miss Pennington, ignoring Paul’s bow and turn- ing to two young-looking middle-aged women who had just entered, ‘to introduce to you Mrs. Miranda Weldon and Mrs. Rebecca Pennington,— Mr. Vauston, Mr. Phippard.” Paul’s usual readiness slipped from him; he was completely ‘‘ squelched.” But Aubrey, with an engaging smile, sprang to the rescue. “l’believe we've-metbefore.” This was the last straw, and all burst into a merry laugh. “This is mamma's birthday,” explained Rhoda, when the mirth had ceased, ‘‘and she and Mrs. Weldon have been celebrating it. by renewing their own college days.” | “If tonight is a sample, I’ll bet they were good in dramatics,” said Paul, honestly. “Speaking of dramatics,” remarked Mrs. Pennington, ‘if your ‘show ’ begins at eight, hadn’t you better be starting? ” “Won't you chaperone us?” asked Paul. | “Tam sorry, but Mrs. Weldon and I have another engagement. Be- sides, we're satisfied that you don’t need chaperoning.”’ “There! what did I tell you, Enid?” exclaimed Rhoda, laughing. “I knew there was a method in their madness.” And amid much merry laughing, Mrs. Pennington and Mrs. Weldon saw the young people off. John R. Miller, 09. A Parental Paradox Mother: Off you go now and take the car for school. Son. Yes’m. Mother: And remember this, young man, if you miss it, you'll catch it. —Facts and Fanctes.

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12 THE MAGNET began a series of strange performances. His head was immersed in a bucket of water, and-—but I must not disclose the secrets of the order. After the candidate had been bruised and bumped and instructed in the mysterious art of smoking, a badge was fastened upon him, proclaiming to every one that the wearer was a member of the mystical order of H. T. O. L. Mr. and Mrs. Ropes were by no means impressed by this mark of dis- tinction. Mrs. Ropes said, ‘‘ James, for goodness sake, take that tin thing off. Why, pa, come here and look at this child. He is all bruised. Where have you been, James?” Jimmie maintained a sullen silence and marched off to bed supperless, with the heroic thought that he was suffering for the good of the cause. Next Saturday he went to lodge as a member in good standing. The business before the house, as stated by Nat Saunders, Chief Terror, was, ‘RESOLVED: That Farmer Noyes is defying the boys of the town, as he has left a pile of brush all summer in his field.” “And say, boys, it’s as dry as tinder. Let’s set it afire tonight.” Accordingly, at dusk several silent figures were skulking around Farmer Noyes’ brush pile. ‘I tell you, boys, what let’s do. You're Indians, and I’m the chief. We'll have a grand pow-wow. No one can see the fire, because it’s behind the hill.” The fatal torch was applied, and the first annual pow-wow of the club was celebrated. But there was an unseen audience. Farmer Noyes had occasion to pass the mill, and had heard the conspirators. The village con- stable, plowing near by, was pressed into service, and although his badge was minute, alongside of the insignia of the H. T. O. L., it had unquestion- ably greater power behind it. ‘When the glorious pow-wow was at an end, and only embers marked the place of the festivities, the unseen audience, which had been suppressing its laughter with difficulty, stepped out. The constable said in his official voice, ‘‘ Glad to see you enjoying yourselves, boys. Have you had all the fun you want? It's my turn now. I arrest you in the name of the law for wantonly and mischievously destroying and causing to be destroyed, on the property of the rightful owner thereof, PID SE belonging to his heirs and assignees—— ’ ‘In other words,” interrupted the farmer, ‘‘you’ve burned my brush.” What an ignominous ending for a celebration-—-to be led through the village like murderers and criminals ! ‘Oh, please, Mr. Constable, don’t arrest us,” cried Jimmie, in a plea, seconded by all the members. “Well, Pll tell you, boys, if you promise to go home and tell your parents, I’ll let you off this time, providing, of course, Mr. Noyes agrees.” Mr. Noyes, after much pondering and ejaculations, such as, ‘ Well, I don’t know,” etc., agreed, and the members of the glorious H. T. O. L. went home and to bed. Farmer Noyes, in telling hls wife the incident, added, “I was going to— burn that pile today myself, but I didn’t quite get around to it.” F. P. Kehew, ’09. A