Leominster High School - Magnet Yearbook (Leominster, MA)

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THE MAGNET 9) break the seal. In your haste and anxiety you almost tear the sheet. What! is it possible? You have passed all except one examination. You are entirely happy, and begin to think that perhaps board exam. week has it joys as well as its sorrows. A Queer Combination A True Story T WAS a hot sultry afternooon in the latter part of August. A perfect I day to sit still and endeavor to keep cool, but such could not be the case with Ruth Phillips, Louise Rich and myself. We had made up our minds to go to make a call, and call we would and must. We were sensible enough, however, to wait until the latter part of the afternoon, when it was a trifle cooler. About four we started out along a shady country road. Not far away we could hear the beat of the great ocean on the rocks; for the road we were traveling ran parallel to the beach. We were tired enough to rest a bit when we had reached the top of Ferry Hill. From here there was a beautiful view; off in the distance was the Miles Standish monument in Duxbury, and in the other direction a vast expanse of ocean, dark and cold, as is always the case, for a few days, after a northeast storm. Finally recovering our breath, we trudged along in the dust of the road until we came in sight of the house; and that large, cool veranda did look good to us! Our hostess, Mrs. Cranford, came out immediately and greeted us most cordially. You can imagine that when she said, ‘‘ You’re tired, every one of you. Won't you have a drink to cool you off ?”’ there was not a negative answer in the three replies. She turned to me then and said, ‘‘ Would you mind helping me a little? Victoria is ironing.” Victoria is an old colored ‘“‘mammy”’ who has lived in the. Cranford family fora long, long time. She was once a slave, when she was quite young. Now she is unable to read and write. Mrs. Cranford arranged a tray ready to be carried to the porch. There were four tumblers, each in its holder, a plate of wafers, and one of cake, besides a dish of Bailey’s. She next brought out a bottle of grape-juice and one of ginger ale. “Fill the glasses about a third full with the grape juice, please,” she said, “and then fill them up with the ginger ale.” I did this, and was about to carry the tray out, when she said, You don't give full measure. I should hate to have you for my grocer. Wait a minute till | get another bottle of ginger ale from Victoria.

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8 THE MAGNET The Week of the Board Exams HE week of the Board exams.—oh, yes, very clearly do you remem- aR ber that endless week of shaking and shivering, which stands out foremost in your mind among the reminiscences of school life. This great event took place in the latter part of June, during some scorch- ing days. It was the thing to which you had been looking forward for a long time, and was the direct cause of a vast amount of plugging and cram- ming in the preceding days and weeks. To those among the number who were taking the finals for entering col- lege, it was exceeding important that they should pass the exams. creditably, while those who were taking the preliminaries were almost equally anxious to have them over and off their minds. At the first examination, which happens to be the dreaded geometry, it is nerve-racking to have to sit quietly in your seat after receiving your number and necessary working materials, and wait for the seconds to drag by until the examination papers should be distributed, and you could really begin work in earnest. You wonder if the exam. will be terribly hard; if the problems will be entirely unheard of; if you will be able to finish it in the allotted time ; and ask yourself thousands of other useless questions. The suspense is indeed awful until you have glanced hurriedly down — the paper, and find that there are one or two questions which do not seems too impossible to you. And then you get busy. There is no time to lose, and you know that you must work hard. You struggle through two, three, four—and soon forget that it is college entrance board exam. and entirely lose yourself in the mazes of geometrical figures and lines. Before you realize it, the proctor gives the ten-minutes warning, and soon the ordeal is over. There is a grand rush from the room, and each begins to talk to his neighbor upon the solution of this or that problem, and to com- pare results. On the next day there is the same trial to go through, except that the newness has worn off, and you do not feel that peculiar trembling about your knees as you enter the room. This time it is Latin and perhaps not quite so hard as youexpected. When the students have survived this, again there is the hurried departure from the room, and loudly-whispered consul- tations inthe hall, until the principal comes out with his ‘word to the wise is sufficient.” Thus the week slips by. Sometimes two, three, or even more exams. come on one day, but every one breathes a great sigh of relief at the end of the week. Of course you are as pessimistic as the others in being sure that you have flunked everything, but you live in high hopes until the reports of the exams. come out a few weeks later. What feelings you experience when you find the long, narrow envelope awaiting you at the post office! You dread opening it, but finally screw up your courage and, with grim determination

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10 THE MAGNET A few minutes later she returned and added a little to each glass. We passed the things, and then warned the girls if they didn’t help themselves they would have to go hungey. Finally we were seated comfortably, ready to enjoy the cool drink. “Mercy!” almost shouted Mrs. Cranford, “what has gone into this stuff? ‘Then looking at the bottle she sank limply back in her chair, ©Schlitz’s Beer.” HELEN C. RICHARDSON, '12. Les Lis Rouges CHAPTER | ‘No, Miss Forsythe,” replied the doctor. He was a large, well-built man of thirty, with light hair and blue eyes. People trusted him instinctively because of his kindly, resolute face. June Forsythe was his assistant. She kept his accounts and helped in many other ways about the office. Tall, dark, and graceful, she drew the eyes of many people, but she was sweet and unspoiled. She had been in Dr. Barrow’s office nearly ayear. She had grown to like him more than she was willing to admit even to herself. And never by word or look had any one guessed her feeling—least of all the doctor himself. Having a few moments’ leisure, she sat down by the open window with her embroidery. She was working a sofa pillow which had a beautiful though unusual design of red lilies. She had been working for some time when Dr. Barrow turned from his desk to look out the window into a neigh- boring rose-garden. As his glance fell on the sofa pillow, he started. ‘“Why, Miss Forsythe, where did you get so unusual a design ?” “Where ? Why—I—it is my own drawing!” His sudden question startled her. ‘It is for my younger sister. I thought she would like it, for lilies like this grow in a swamp back of our old Southern home. I have never seen any except there.” ‘Most likely not!’ was all Dr. Barrow said as he wheeled around to his desk again. June laid her work in her lap. ‘“ What is the matter?” she thought. ‘“ Lilies like this do grow down home. And it visn’t like Dr. Barrow to make fun of people.’ Tears rushed to her eyes, but she winked them back. ‘‘Miss Forsythe, did they look like these ?”’ holding a book towards GG I THERE nothing more to do, Dr. Barrow ?”’ her. ‘Just the same, only perhaps a little darker red.” ‘Well, why I asked is because a Mr, Paul of Washington has offered fifty dollars apiece for every bulb of the Lis Rouges that is brought him.