Marlborough High School - Marlborough High Yearbook (Marlborough, MA)

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Aunty truimphantly said, Now I ' ve got it dov. r n pat. This sweater will be done in no time,” Fritz, her dog, seemed to have an objection to that, for the next time Aunt Bessie had her knitting out, he worried the yarn and the knitted part to bits ' . Poor Aunt Bessie ' , That wasn ' t her fault, either. After that, she gave up, went to the store, and bought a sweater. She decided, Now I know any boy would appreciate a nice, warm, comfortable sweater—if the sweater is bought. —Helen Hovanesian n I TT Saturday, liarch 21. It ' s funny that it never bothered me before; but now—I want to find a corner, curl up, and have no one bother me for the rest of my life. p ' Have you ever felt that way? Of course you have. ' Y hen that certain time of the year rolls around, you get that lazy, sleepy feeling. They call it Spring Fever. Here we are, in class again! I guess I’m not the only one here who has spring fever There ' s Millie Jones over there gazing into space; she must be dreaming about her date tonight with Glamour-Boy Joe. Chick Rogers, over there, is thinking about his next period class. He ' s a whizz in Chemistry, and Hath., but he just can ' t master his Latin. There he is worrying. Then there’s Jackie Graves, Bob Tunney, and Jim Allen They ' re the school ' s baseball heroes. I suppose they ' re thinking about practice this afternoon and their future on this Athletic Field. Everyone seems to be far away, gazing into space or out the window. Students seem to be in a world of their own. That ' s Spring Fever, you know—a world of your own! The teacher, Miss Y illard, goes on talking, trying her best to pound something into our numb brains. ie listen, but it either goes in one ear and out the other or goes in one ear, stays there, but has no effect whatever. Well, that ' s how it is, Hiss Vuillard. Blame it all on the spring. 6h—the bell for next period. Ho Hum! jiu t I move? —Gladys Cahill