New London High School - Whaler Yearbook (New London, CT)

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bulkeley news Inlf-mile IRun §T was late one afternoon in May when Tom Osborne threw himself at the foot of one of the great elms, which surround the campus at Trents Hill. No great amount of penetration was needed to see that Tom was in trouble, if the way in which he wrinkled his forehead and tore at the turf with the toe of his running shoe was any index to his feelings. For years it had been the custom at Trents Hill to hold a class meet each spring in order to get a line on the material for the varsity team. Tom was the crack half-miler of the school, having won that event for the two previous years. But in this afternoon’s practice he had surpassed his former record, and now he knew that he was surer of first place than ever before. Strange to say this was just the cause of his trouble. Jack Hetherington, his chum, was a member of ’04, while he himself belonged to ’03. He realized that Jack could easily win the race if he were not entered, but possibly this might mean the loss of the meet to ’03. After a half hours thought, during which he accomplished the destruction of most of the turf in the vicinity Tom jumped to his feet and jogged off to the gymnasium to remove his running apparel. He determined to put the thought out of his head and leave the question to Dame Fortune for settlement. Accordingly, after supper he dodged his chum and retired early to his room. All night he tossed about in his bed; his troubles took the form of an imp, who squatted upon his chest and grinned, and tantalizingly evaded every effort at dislodgment. In the morning Osborne awoke from his restless slumbers with a start and hastily donning his clothes journeyed to the gym. 5

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BULKELEY NEWS sight met my gaze. The track had been undermined, and the engine had jumped the rails, dragging the tender, baggage and mail cars after it. The fireman was caught between the engine and tender. He was yelling, singingand waving his arms; which hilarity we discovered was due to the effects of our “stimulants.” I asked the conductor why he did not cut the fellows boot; he replied, “that it was no use as the foot was burned to a crisp.” So we made a dam around him to keep the rising water of the river from drowning him. We stood about for a while, but most of the passengers seeing that we could do nothing but give him “stimulants returned to the car. At last, growingdes-perate, the conductor procured an axe, and after sharpening it until the edge was as keen as a razor; he explained to the assembled passengers how he would cut the fellows limb with one stroke and stop the artery with a tourniquet; although he said a butcher’s cleaver would answer the purpose more satisfactorily than the axe. There was a vague suspicion in my mind that some of the stimulants which were intended for the fireman had been appropriated for the conductor’s own personal use. The army officer came up and I told him of my suspicions. He agreed with me and button-holed the conductor on the spot. Just then the wrecking train arrived, The engineer took the situation in at a glance; walking down the bank he cried, “hello Bill what you doin’ there ? As Bill did not reply very coherently the engineer walked over to where he lay, and after surveying him for a short time drew an enormous knife from his pocket and deliberatly began to cut Bill’s shoe! He then grabbed the unfortunate fireman by the shoulders and gave him a twist and a yank. Bill answered with a howl, but out he came uninjured. It seemed that he was only caught by the heel of his shoe, when the engineer cut tbe leather that confined his ankle it set him free. G. F. ’07. 4

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BULKELEY NEWS Here with the other members of the ’03 track team, after a light breakfast he listened to the last caution of the trainer and then made for the scene of the struggle, Eton field. In the excitement of preparation he forgot his perplexity and entered into the spirit of the day. Already the field was filling with spectators, and the first call for the opening event had been issued. According to the programme the half-mile was to be run among the first races, but for some unknown reason it had been postponed until last. Tom heaved a sigh of relief upon hearing of this reprieve from misery. As point after point went to either of the rival classes the excitement became intense and it was evident that the contest would be the closest in years. Matters were brought to a crisis when a hitherto unknown from ’04 cleared five feet in the high jump, thus tieing the score. Not until the last call for the half-mile was made did Tom fully realize how Dame Fortune had played with him. Mechanically he took his place in the line of contestants and watched his pale but determined friend, digging his holes for the start. Now he realised what victory meant to Hetherington; not only the winning of the cup for his class but a place on the school team, and he best of all knew how Jack coverted such a position. He was aroused from his thoughts by the sharp words of the starter. Are you ready! Get your marks! Get set! The sharp crack of the pistol rang out, and seven white-clad figures leaped forward. When the din and excitement subsided Osborne was seen leading, with Hetherington close at his heels. After the first sprint for the rope Tom knew that he could run the race of his life, even for a moment he forgot the hated indecision in the very joy of such strenuous living. But it surged back again with added weight when he heard the soft pat of approaching footsteps 6