Leominster High School - Magnet Yearbook (Leominster, MA)

Page 12 text:

6 THE MAGNET Our victories in football, especially the one over our rival Fitchburg, have helped to raise school spirit, which together with the former things goes a long way toward making this school year successful. The Macnet has yet to prove whether it will add to or detract from this year’s success. Perhaps we should rather say that the pupils of the L. H.S. wish to prove that they can run a paper which shall in every way be a credit to themselves. For to them belongs all the credit and discredit that may come from it. It is theirs, not the editors’ alone. They will endeavor to produce a magazine which shall be of interest to its readers. If the: first num- ber fails to please you, remember that practice makes perfect, and give us another chance. We would ask each and every loyal Leominsterite to answer these two questions: Is a school paper of benefit to the school? Do you wish to support that which is a benefit to the school? Then act accordingly. Mic Fes ena O matter how good a thing may be, it is sure to have its faults. So it is with THE Macnet. We realize this; but often what others can see, we ourselves overlook until it is pointed out to us. Some may think too much space is given to the literary pages. Others who do notcare for and are not interested in sports, will probably say that such a page is foolish, and not necessary to a good paper. While still others will say that the humorous side of the paper is made too important. For this reason THE MaGnet will welcome gladly any suggestions which the Exchange columns of other papers may make. For through these columns we, so to speak, “see ourselves as others see us.” HELEN C. RICHARDSON, '12.

Page 11 text:

THE MAGNET Vol 1V. LEOMINSTER, MASS., OCTOBER, 1910. No. 1 Entered as second class matter at Post Office at Leominster, Mass. EDITORIAL STAFF. MARGARET EARL, ‘11, Managing Editor. CLARENCE SPILLER, ‘11, Assistant Managing Editor. Margaret Munsie, 11 Frank Gaffney, ‘11, Athletics Nellie Pierson, ‘11 p Advertising Editors Helen Woodbury, ‘11, Editor of Verse Nellie Lothrop, ‘11, Subscription Editor Peter Knapp, ’12, Sketch Editor Alice Garland, ’o4, Alumni Notes Bona Smith, ’11, Jester’s Page William Jenna, '12, School Notes Helen Richardson, ’12, Exchange Editor ASSISTANTS. Gladys Chapman, ’IT. Mina Stout, ’13. Mary Kirkpatrick, '14. Willard Foss, ’14. Milton Prue, 14. Brownlee Gauld, ’I5. Ruth Burrage, ‘15. Arthur Chandler, ’15. Published monthly during school year by pupils of the High School. Subscription price, 50 cents; single copies, 10 cents. ——— — — aro ltAL= ; i ay : Gy HE interest scholars take in their work depends largely upon the teachers. Without this interest it is difficult for them to keep their minds on their studies, especially during the pleasant days of autumn when everything seems to say, “Come out and leave those dry old books.” So if the faculty does not take par- ticular care at this time of year to stimulate interest, the whole student body is liable to obey these voices some day, and run pell- mell out of doors. The physical training classes are a temporary relief for that get-out-of-doors feeling for, as yet, they have been conducted outside. Sewing and cooking classes at the High School building are a great addition and are well patronized. Even the boys have thoughts of taking up the latter subject, and who knows but ere long L. H. S. will be turning out hundreds of first class chefs? - p)

Page 13 text:

THE MAGNET Into the Land of Memories I stand on the shore of the night wrapped bay And watch the gleaming of waves at play, And the shining stars on high. I watch where the jeweled heavens reach Till they kiss the shores of the sandy beach, Where the dusky shadows lie, While the moon a paling glimmer throws Across the chas m of dark repose. And here, while I sit alone by the sea, A lonely sense steals over me, Like a cloud which threatens storm. And letting the dikes of memory fall, Old dreams rush over me, past recall, Old joys in fantastic form. Adrift I am swept by the roaring tide Into the land where memories hide. And I roam through the kingdoms of long ago Forgetful of Time and its ceaseless woe, For this is enchanted ground. And reveling here in the sunlight of dreams I am dazed by the brightness that flows from its beams And lights up the way all around. No shadows lurk in this wonderful land, No gloom lies over the glistening sand. O why may I not with memories dear Dream my life quite away as I now dream it here, Forgetful of present sorrows? O why are we caught in the drift of the years That change the sweet nectar of pleasure to tears, And hide all our hopes of tomorrows? Back, back, O hoary ocean of Time, Go thou thy way, and let me go mine. HELEN Wooppsury, ’II.