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

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8 BULKELEY NEWS a love ballad. He gazed dreamily at the dainty white-clothed girl at his side. As she spied the car, she sprang from the hammock and cried, “There are the boys.’’ The deserted one gazed unhappily after her and wearily put down the instrument. She soon came back to the veranda and introduced the new-comers to the others. It did not take Jack long to feel at ease among that happy crowd even though he was a complete stranger. Iole Addison led the way to the big hammock in the corner which she had just left. She jumped into it and said laughingly, “Jump in. It will hold two.” Jack took her advice and soon they were chatting away as fast as the others. There was something about her which seemed to attract him more than any girl he had met before. She was rather small and dainty. Her pretty laughing eyes attracted him. A stray curl of light hair dangled prettily near her ear. The afternoon passed quickly. The evening shadows fell softly. One by one the bright stars appeared in the sky up above. The mysterious sounds of night stole through the air. The party now s p o k e in hushed voices, as if compelled to do so by by the fairies of the night. “Let’s all go down to the bungalow,” said Iole. “We’ll build a fire in the fire-place and toast inarshmel-lows.” The suggestion was greeted with joy. Soon they were walking in couples toward Whalom Lake near whose shore the bungalow rested. Iole and Jack walked slowly behind. Soon the others were lost to view. A glorious moon was rising over the eastern woods which surrounded the lake. It’s mellow radiance spanned the water with a bridge of gold. The leaves of the trees seemed to whisper at its beauty. As they walked on through the night, Jack discovered a seat underneath a spreading oak. “Iole,” he said. “This sight is too good to miss. Let us sit here for a while and then we’ll join the others. They took their seats and sat in silence. The gentle breeze had died down and the whispering leaves were hushed as if fearing to disturb the sleeping spirit of night. Suddenly through the silence came the ghostly hoot of a lonely owl. The girl drew closer and a shiver passed through her. What caused him to do it he did not know, but he put his arm gently around her. He gazed at her calm face, bathed in the moonlight. The passions surged within him. He was tempted to steal a kiss from those sweet lips. But instead he rose and said: “Let’s join the others.” That night as he lay in bed thinking over the events of the day, he gritted his teeth and muttered: “I’ll make the team or die trying, because She’ll be there to watch us play.” —Liljenstein, P. 0.

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BULKELEY NEWS 7 in slumber. So he got up and prepared for a walk around the grounds. Not many boys could be seen walking around because the school didn’t open until the next day. As he walked around looking at the various buildings which would be his home for a time at least, he heard the pleading voice of a young boy. Partially screened from view he could see a large boy with a bullying express ion on his face, threatening a smaller lad. The blood in the westerner became hot with anger. Yet he refrained from interfering. He kept on watching until the bully threatened to strike the young chap. Jack rushed from behind the bushes, his face ablaze with indignation. The bully looked up with an ugly expression on his face and shouted “What are you butting in here for?” “I think you’ve done about enough with that young fellow. Let him go.” The voice was calm and commanding. The rage of the other seemed to rise. “Who are you? What are you going to do about it? The kid is a freshman and if I tell him to do a thing he’s got to do it.” Lewis walked up to the freshman and said, “Goon. The fellow won’t bother you.” Hardly were the words out of his mouth before the bully struck. The blow caught the interferer on the shoulder and spun him half way around. I didn’t come here looking for a fight, but seeing that that’s what you want, I’ll try to satisfy you,” Jack said calmly: “I’ll drop you if it’s the last thing I do,” roared the other. And then he rushed. Jack sidestepped and sent a smashing blow to his opponent’s ribs. The bully’s face was distorted with rage. He threw all science to the winds and rushed with his arms swinging like a windmill. Lewis was alertly on guard and pushed one of the swinging arms aside and swung a heavy blow to the jaw. The aggressor dropped to the ground and looked dazedly about him. When Jack saw that he wasn’t badly hurt, he walked off. As it was nearly twelve, he went to his room to prepare for the visit of which Fred had spoken. When he reached his room, he found Ralph ready and waiting. “Where have you been? I was just thinking of going out and looking for you. You know we’ve got to go out to the Addison place this afternoon. You’ll have to hustle.” ‘‘Oh, I’ve just been looking over the place. I think I’ll like it here. But Ralph, I hope I can make the team. ’ ’ “Get that off your mind. That’s all I’ve heard from you since yesterday. You’ll make it. Get ready for Fred will be here soon.” Just as he was ready, the car could be seen coming up the drive. The two boys rushed out and soon they were spinning over the country road to the Addison home. When they reached the house a party of young people were seen making merry on the broad vine-enclosed veranda. In one corner, a pleasant faced, fat young fellew picked clumsily on a banjo. From his mouth issued sounds which were to represent

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BULKELEY NEWS 9 A Local Color Story 'T'HE Athletic tax is ten cents a ■A- week, a sum every one of you can afford to pay when it comes due. The football season is coming on and the finances are low.” Thus spoke Buck Wheaton, president of the Sophomore Class. He was addressing the Freshmen. ‘‘Mr. Wheaton,” piped a small yet steady voice. The owner, a small red-headed fellow rose in his seat: ‘‘Do we have a vote in the sc h ool meetings?” “Do you what?” almost shouted Buck, “you, Freshmen, vote in the school meetings?” He disdained even to answer the question. Hamilton Wells, the snub-nosed Freshman who had spoken to Wheaton immediately started a campaign. The result of that campaign was that he was elected class president. Then for some reason or another a tax collector was not appointed; dues were not collected. It was customary in that school for the president of the Sophomore Class to look after the Freshman athletic money. Wheaton, therefore attended a Freshman Class meeting to determine why no first year money was forthcoming. “The Freshman Class has unanimously voted to support the school in no way whatsoever, until the members of said class have the right of voting in the school meetings.” This was President Well’s official answer to Wheaton’s queries. Almost choking with anger Wheaton left the meeting. He said not a word. “Oh! Well! What’s the difference? Let’s give them the vote,” said the Senior President, “they are not strong enough to run things.” “Never!” returned Wheaton,“they must do as other Freshman classes have done. Force must be used a-gainst them.” Thus the battle dwindled down to two factions; one headed hy Wheaton ; the other by Wells. The day of the first football game dawned clear and cold. A mighty cheer rose from the west stands as the team made its appearance. An answering cry came from the east stands. The crowd looked, rubbed their eyes, and then gasped, for there stood the Freshmen, fifty strong, cheering for the visitors. The Sophomores literally tore across that field but suddenly they stopped . The Freshmen did not scatter but reaching under the stands pulled forth fifty serviceable clubs. They had a far sighted leader who left nothing to chance. Buck Wheaton was blamed by the upper classmen for the revolt of the Freshmen. “This is awful,” muttered Buck to his roommate as after the game they were back in their room, “it’s bad enough to have the Freshmen up in arms but the fact that I am blamed for it makes it doubly hard.” He strolled to the window and threw it open. A pebble was immediately thrown in from the darkness