Natick High School - Sassamon Yearbook (Natick, MA)

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THE SASSAMON PAGE SEVENTEEN He called me Dilly dal1y! said Dottie, and smiled. Oh! he'll never call you that again ! ex- claimed Mr. Peters. He was smiling, too. I assure you that he won't. But return- ing to my subject, are you sure it was twenty minutes past ten? Positive! exclaimed Dottie. I re- member looking at the clock! Dottie was so anxious to assure him of the truth that Mr. Peters could restrain himself no longer. I'll believe you if you'll believe me,', he said, his eyes twinkling a great deal, and then, with a flourish, he drew open the top drawer. There lay the fifty dollars, safe and sound. I found I didn't leave it in the top draw- er after all, explained he, but I had put it in my hat band, when I got it out of the bank, first thing this morning. With that he sat back in his chair and watched Miss Dorothy Welder, who sat wide-eyed and open-mouthed in astonishment. As he finished, she drew a breath of re- lief and rose to go, thanking him the while. It's dinner time, so I might as well take you home, he said, casually looking at his watch. And so it was that Ted, looking very much surprised, saw Dottie actually riding homeswith Mr. Peters! Well, this is a funny world! thought he, and oddly enough what Mr. Peters had said came true, for Ted never called Dot, Dilly Dally any more. LUCJILE NICHOLS. THE SOLILOQUY OF A WASTE-BASKET Before being thrown into discard let me tell you a little of my past life. If I should sound the least bit gloomy please forgive me, but when one has just heard that his doom is nigh, to be cheerful is perhaps not an easy matter. Did I not hear Miss Pratt tell the janitor, this morn- ing, that I had seen my best days and that she's going to ask the School Committee for a new waste-basket? Personally I think Miss Pratt could have been a little bit more considerate of my feelings by not giving vent to such an outburst when she knew right well that I was in the room, un- der her desk, where I've been for the last tell three years. However, I promised to you a little of my past life, did I not? Though so far I have only succeeded in telling you of my grievance. Three years ago a prouder or more beautiful waste-basket than I had never been made. My creator robed me in a beautiful coat of pale green paint and then sent me to a nearby school, where I was given to the teacher, Miss Pratt. How well I remember the ovation that was given me! Taking me ln her hands, Miss Pratt held me up in front of the class and commenced, 'Before you I am holding a beautiful new waste-basket, it being school property, I hope you will all treat it as such. I shall keep it under my desk, and from. now I wish to see a tidy room with no waste paper lying around, for this basket is a receptacle for all waste materi- al, and, I think, an essential to civic pride! After that speech you can imagine my disgust when a big wad of gum was sent down my insides, followed by another and another, 'till I thought everyone in the room must have been chewing gum, any- way, I was getting pretty 'stuck-up.' I can tell you that I had a hard time convinc- ing myself that my purpose in life is rub- bish, and that I was made to be useful, as well as ornamental. Many may think that my life is always sad, but that is not so. For instance, the eighteenth amendment to the Constitution may affect some people, but not me,-no matter what happens, I am always full. 'AI have often been witness to personal matters, some quite thrilling, like love- notes, for instance. As a friend I'll advise you always to tear your notes up into very small pieces, because some people like puz- zles and might use your note for one, if they had the chance. However, I warn you never to tear notes when the teacher is in the room, because the tearing of paper al- ways distracts a teacher's attention from her work, and worse still, makes her suspi- cious of the truth.

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PAGE SIXTEEN THE SASSAMON she heard a very startled exclamation from the other room. Oh, but Mr. Peters, I didn't do it-I wasn't there at that time-I-er, here Ted broke off and after a minute replaced the receiver and entered the kitchen, look- ing a little pale and puzzled. What's the trouble? asked his sister, a trifie anxiously. Nothin', only fifty dollars has been stol- en by someone down to the store and Mr. Peters says I did it! and I've got to go down and see him now and prove I didn't. Dottie's mouth fell open. Why you didn't--you wouldn't and you couldn't have done it! she gasped. I know it! cried Ted, as he pulled his hat on and went out, slamming the door be- hind him. Dottie sat down very suddenly. She sat square on top of her lunch and didn't know it. The picnic was forgotten. It was almost five minutes by the clock when she suddenly remembered herself and jumped to her feet. O my poor lunch! cried she, it's all changed into a big pat-a cake-but I don't think I really want to go to the picnic any- way. She glanced out doors. It didn't seem half so alluring so she finally settled down with a book. It was not very long afterwards that Ted came home again. He seemed a a bit de- jected. Dottie looked up inquiringly. Did he- she began. No, he didn't! said Ted, Mr. Peters said that he left the fifty dollars in his top drawer, this morning, while he took the place of one of his clerks. The clerk stayed away longer than expected and when he finally was able to return to his office the money was gone. Of course, he blamed me because he left me in charge of the office until ten-thirty o'clock. I tried to tell him that I came home at ten min- utes past ten, which was before he took the clerk's place, but he said that someone saw me come back at twenty minutes past ten and, of course, he believes the other person first, because I've only been there a couple of weeks, Ted finished his explanation gloomily and fell silent. Dottie sat up very straight, Pm going to call him up and prove to him that you were here at ten-twenty, because you were -why! that was when you called me Dilly dally! Don't! cried Ted, he wouldn't be- lieve you any way and besides, you mustn't get mixed up in this, too! O, say! I thought you were going to a picnic! he cried. So I was! exclaimed Dot, just as though she had just remembered it. She jumped up and slipped on her hat and jack- et and started off, but this time there was no box under her arm. It didn't take her long to walk down town and into the B- store, where she found her way to the office. Peters dont want to see no one, mum- bled the small boy who hovered around the office. O, he'll see me all right! said Dottie, as she stood in her tracks. Please hun'y -it's very important! The boy paused. Whats your name? asked he. Dorothy Welder! The lad disappeared, but soon reap- peared. All right, he said, and Dottie hastened in. Inside of the little private office sat Mr. Peters. He was a tall man, with iron gray hair and humorous gray eyes. They were very stern now, however, or so they seemed to Dottie. What may I do for you ? he asked, as he nodded to a chair. Dottie seated her- self. I'm coming straight to the point,' she announced. You accused my brother of taking fifty dollars, at twenty minutes past ten and at that time he Was-he was-- Was what? inquired Mr. Peters. He was-calling me names! finished Dottie, her cheeks quite pink. In spite of himself Mr. Peters-almost smiled. What names could the little rascal call you, he said. ' 7

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PAGE EIGHTEEN THE SASSAMON Goodness! gracious! Miss Pratt has just thrown a bouquet of flowers on me, which, I think, must be a sure sign that my days are numbered. As I was not made in a 'box' factory, let me not die a 'chatter- box,' but though being made in a 'waste- basket' factory, let me not waste my time in idle soliloquy. I will remain a waste- basket 'till I turn to ashes in the city dump. EDITH NORDSTROM. THE WRECK OF THE HOPEWE.LL As the tramp freighter Hopewell docked at the wharf, at San Francisco, Captain Mayo breathed a sigh of relief. It had been a hard voyage and he was glad it was over. He stood on the bridge with the first mate and the harbor pilot while the Hope- well was docked. He was a young man, only a few years out of a nautical school, and the responsibility had weighed heavily on his mind. The Hopewell was a freak steamer. She was very old and her engines were in bad condition. Twice on the voyage they had been delayed to fix some trifling thing which, if properly repaired, should give no trouble at all. The Hopewell was owned by Mr. Brown, a stingy man, who was unwilling to part from a cent unless it was absolutely necessary. The skipper turned to the chief mate and said, By George! If I don't get some new boilers put into this floating wreck, I'll quit and tell Mr. Brown to go to Blazes! The mate, with a look of disgust on his face, replied, It sure is terrible the way things are going. If the old man don't fix up the old tub before next voyage, some- thing is going to happen. Why! the en- gine room signals are all shot to pieces and the lights and other signals are in terrible condition! The captain said, When I go up to make my report, I want you to go with me, and we'll see if we can persuade him to make some repairs. A few hours later they were ushered into the presence of Mr. Brown, who, after telling them to sit down, said, Well, it took you long enough to make the trip. You are two weeks late. Captain Mayo replied, We were delayed for two weeks off the coast of Chile, fixing the engines. Mr. Brown replied, Now I suppose you have a whole list of things which need re- pairs. I'll tell you this right now, if you expect me to make that ship into a second 'Majestic,' you have got another think com- ing. But, said the first mate, if you don't fix the boilers, she's liable to blow up and the propeller shaft is- Here Mr. Brown interrupted him by say- ing, Get out and shut up or I'll blow you up. You are going to start for Australia two weeks from today witha miscellaneous cargo, and no repairs are to be made be- fore leaving, and I'm going with you. I need a voyage for my health. The two men left the office and returned to the ship. When they got back, the mate said, I'm through. I'll get my junk and clear out and get a new berth. The old man didn't give us a chance to say any- thing. So he's going on the next voyage. I hope the old wreck blows up under,him The Captain said, I think I'1l stick it out for another voyage, because if he has one trip on her, I think he'll be willing to Hx it up. You had better stick and see the fun when anything happens to the en- gines in mid-ocean. By George, I think I'll stick, said the chief mate, and I'll also see that the old tub acts her worst when he is on her. Two weeks later the 'fHopewell left Frisco harbor and carried with her her owner, Mr. Brown, and his wife. Mr. Brown stayed on deck with the officers the first day and enjoyed the air, but during the night a storm came up, and by morning he was feeling very sick. He regained his health too soon to suit the officers for he was always in the way, finding fault with the way things were run on the ship.