Natick High School - Sassamon Yearbook (Natick, MA)

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a THE SASSAMON I I like a chilling blast upon his hearers at Athens, because he was the hireling of Philip-in other words a traitor. Napoleon was one of the greatest gen- erals of all time. He swept like a de- stroying angel over almost the entire eastern world, showing a military genius which has never been surpassed. For a while he seemed to have robbed fortune of her secret, and bewildered nations gazed in silence while his success grew greater, until it seemed as if he would become master of the entire world. Nevertheless, although he was endowed with a perception keen enough to discern the hidden plans of opposing generals, he could only see one road to immortal- ity-a path which led through battle- fields and marshes wet with human gore -a path which led over rivers of blood and streams of tears that fiowed from orphans' eyes-a path along whose way the widow's wail made music for his marching armies. Now he is fallen, and over his tomb no mourner weeps. Tal- ent, genius, power, these he had, but character, he had none. But there are those who have both in- fluence through life and unending prais- es through death. There are those who by their ability have inspired the admiration of the people and held it by the purity of their character. It is often remarked that some men have a name greater than their works will justify. The secret lies in the men themselves. History but voic- es our own experience when it awards to' true nobility of character the highest places among the enviable possessions of men. Perhaps we could not find better illus- trations of the power and worth of char- acter, than are presented in the lives of two of our own countrymen. Their names will ever be dear to the hearts of the American people and will always be held in sacred memory. The truest tears of sorrow ever shed by a nation for its heroes have fallen on their honored dust. They were the father and savior of their common country. One was the ap- pointed guardian of its birth, the other, the preserver of its life. Each formed a character whose foundations were laid broad and deep in the purest truths of morality-a character which stood un- shaken amid the terrors of war and the calmness of peace-a character which did not allow either cowardice upon the battlefield or tyranny in the presidential chair. Thus did they win the hearts of their countrymen and prepare for them- selves a lasting place of rest in the ten- der memcries of a grateful people. Character is not the gift of fortune. In this at least we are not creatures of circumstances: talent may be the gift of nature, position in society, the gift of birthg respect may be bought with wealthg but neither one nor all of these can give character. It is a slow but sure growth to which every thought and ac- tion lends its aid. To form character is to form habits which are the very stand- ards of our lives. Either consciously or unconsciously we are doing this each day. There is character formed by our asso- ciation with each friend, by every desire of the heart. by every object toward which our affections go out, yes, by ev- ery thought whiih fiies on its swift wings through the dark recesses of the brain. We all know that repetition forms habit, and almost before we are aware. we are chained to a certain routine of action from which it is difficult to free ourselves. We imitate that which we admire. If we delight in stories of cru- elty and atrocity. We find it easy to be- come a Nero. If we delight in gossip, and are not content unless each acquaint- ance is laid on the dissecting table, we form an unenviable character indeed, and we must he willing to bear the con- tempt of others. But if each day we gather some new truths, and guard every thought and action that they may be pure. we shall form a character that will be a fit background on which to paint the noblest achievements. The formation of character is a work which continues through life, but at no time is it so active as in youth. At this time impressions are most easily made, and mistakes most easily corrected. It is the springtime of life. the season for the sowing of seed. There is no complaint if a neglected seed time brings a harvest of want. As little reason have we to

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10 THE SASSAMON more than all? Dear Schoolmates, our friends, you, who will take our places next year, be loyal to your high school and in so doing be loyal to yourselves. Be co-workers with your teachers and remember their beads are wiser than yours-their ways are best. Dear Iligh School, we may pass on tp other scenes of life, yet never can we forget the happy hours spent within thy walls. In the Garden of our lives we have planted rosemary for remembrance! Farewell! Miriam Eldridge. CLASS POEM Classmates we've all assembled here to- night To bid farewell to high school days now past, Ilut from us naught can ever break those ties Of faithful friendship made always to last. Through these years of toil and pleas- ure Spent in this our dear high school, llave we striven and won together Access to a higher goal. E'en as the shell brings inward from the sea The murmur of its void and unknown home, So may we now, the class, nineteen sixteen Bear worthy Natick echoes where we roam. Thus we stand this night of parting, Met before the opened gates, Now, we pass to paths of promise Where new life before us waits. And as we sadly leave our honored high school Grateful for the good we've learned therein, We thank once more, our teachers kind and good For garlands of success they've helped us win. Natick High School days are over, Farewell to them all we say, As to greater tasks before us Pass we through the upward way. Launched at last on life's broad sea, Ever let our motto be I serve. Esther Pendleton. CLASS ORATION AN ASPECT OF MODERN LIFE It is said of the ermine that it will often suffer injury rather than allow pol- lution to touch its glossy coat, but take away the coat and the animal is worth- less. VVe have ermines in higher life, those who love display. The de- sire to seem, rather than to be, is a fault which our age, as well as all other ages, must deplore. Sham is carried into every department of life, and we are being cor- rupted by show and surface. We are be- ginning to judge people more by what they have, than by what they are, we have too few Hamlets who are bold enough to proclaim, I know, not seem! Although reputation may in some de- gree be taking the place of character, yet the latter has lost none of its worth, and, now, as of old, is a priceless posses- sion, wherever found. Its absence and presence, alike, prove its value. Have you not at some time or other talked with those whose brilliant wit, piercing sar- casm and well framed sentences failed to conceal a certain indescribable something which made you distrust every word they uttered? Have you not listened to those whose eloquence dazzled, whose feigned earnestness incited in you an enthusiasm equal to their own, and yet, have you not felt that behind all this there was lurking a certain something that repelled the admiration which their genius at- tracted? That something is want of character, or, to speak more truly, the possession of bad character, and it shows itself alike in nations and individuals. Aeschines was one of the greatest ora- tors that ever thrilled a Grecian audi- ence. His masterpiece was his oration against the crowning of Demosthenes. It was a masterly production, well ar- ranged, excellently written and effective- ly delivered. Its merits were so great, that, when many years later, as an exile, he delivered it before a foreign audience, they were astonished that it had not won for him his cause. Nevertheless, it fell

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I2 THE SASSAM ON murmur if in after life we discover a character dwarfed and deformed by the evil thoughts and actions of today. Character is the individuality of the person, shining from every window of the soul, either as a beam of purity, or as a clouded ray that shows the impurity within. The contest between right and wrong is ever going on. Day by day, hour by hour, moment by moment our characters are being formed, and this is the all important question which comes to us fainter and fainter as we journey from the cradle to the grave, Shall those characters be good or bad? Dear classmates, it is character not less than intellect that our instructors have striven to develop in us. As we stand at the end of our high school course, and as our memories linger on the words of wisdom which have fallen from their lips, we are more and more deeply impressed with the true concep- tion of duty which they have ever shown. But these days are over. No longer shall we listen to their warning voices, no more meet them in those familiar class rooms, yet the lesson which they have given has sunk deeply on our hearts, and it shall not soon depart. John Wardell, '16. CLASS SONG Tune- Fair Harvard I. Oh, for this school the highest of praise is the best, Hear the motto we've all learned to love, It is this, I Serve, and it means N. H. S., And with all else we place it above. But let's think of the time, when we all entered here, llow long four years to us seemed, And the time that we've spent, now to us is so dear, For it all has been just like a dream. II. Oh, think of the school that to us is so dear, And think that from it we must part, Oh, the teachers and friends that we met while here, Gave to us all in life our start. llow sadly we feel, when we know we must leave The school that taught us how to try, But when we pass through the doors this eve., We'll cheer for dear old Natick High! Ruth Cassidy. 1916 ROGUES' GALLERY In a recent class meeting the seniors elected the following members to the 1916 Hall of Fame: Our Prettiest Girl is Grace Montieth with a close second in Alice Branagan. We have many other pretty girls, you understand, but these are the prettiest. Our Handsomest Boy is Joseph Burke. Joe came near losing to John Mahaney, but evidently several young ladies preferred Joe's angelic smile and twinkling brown eyes to Jack's dark earnestness UD. The Most Popular Girl. Grace Mon- tieth again heads the list with Mar- garet McGrath not far behind. Oh, yes, you say, it was to be expected of Miss Montieth, but what is Miss McGrath's excuse ? Gentle reader, have patience and you shall see. The Most Popular Boy. john Ma- haney is here without any near rival. Even the peerless joe sneezes in his dust. The Cleverest. Our sad and solemn- faced editor-in-chief carried off the honors of this competition, rivaled by Marguerite Whitney, John Wardell and Dick Spencer. The Class Wit. A practically unani- mous vote was cast for Mary Grithn, although Mahaney and Spencer and a few others came in for their share. The Biggest Flirt. Miss Margaret McGrath. Now you see, gentle read- er, why Miss McGrath is considered so popular-simply because she makes herself so. The pleasant art is not conhned to her alone, indeed there were nine others quite skilled in it. fProbably because this is Leap Year D The Most Versatile. Here indeed was tumult and confusion until Hazel Sprott calmly stepped forward and took the lead. Hazel quite deserves the honor. One moment we see her cheering her courageous basket ball