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

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Jl f Z EEL E)' NE ws IS more than half the undergraduate body to avenge devastated Belgium and worn-out France. The class of 1920 had given the greatest representation to the Yale Mobile Unit which had gone to France, thereby leaving the work of chastising the Freshmen to the remaining members of the class. So tonight the Sophomore class with arms locked, anxiously watching and waiting for that dark mass at the other end of the campus to move towards them, steeled themselves for a fight against discouraging odds. The bark of the referee’s pistol caused a much more rapid movement in the hearts than in the feet of the Freshmen, who, not knowing this mode of warfare and doubtful of the reception they were about to receive, approached with slow unsteady steps. A dull thud immediately preceeded cries of joy and anguish. Hard-breathing youths, perspiring or bleeding, tore, kicked, plunged, and fought as no Huns ever did. Art Standish carried through his share of the fight with that savage joy which well-trained athletes feel in their sports. At the first shock, he had thrown two frightened Fresh-ies, and then on recovering turned to meet a broad-shouldered young giant. The stampede of rushing Freshmen caught up both men throwing them to the ground. Stan clinched his teeth as he felt the rush and trample on him of the feet of the lower-classmen who, trembling and hesitating, finally swept by force of numbers through the opposing side. Climbing gingerly to his feet, Art started for the wrestling matches. While applying his handkerchief to a bleeding ear, he impatiently asked himself why they could not have prevented these new-comers from winning in this first clash between the rival classes. He joined the group of students squatting around the roped off wrestling ring, still smarting under the sting of defeat. Coach Winters stood in the center of the ring. He called for lightweights. The P'reshmen pushed under the ropes a small well-built fellow. Nineteen-twenty called for Clark, who stepped into the ring. Stripping to the waist and minus their shoes, they faced each other while Coach Winters explained the rules governing the match. In an instant they were off. Having similar physical qualifications, there was not much difference in ability. But in the end Winter’s training on the Sophomore the year before, brought the result of the match to the latter’s class. Bailey, the Sophomore’s middleweight candidate experienced no difficulty in downing his man, thereby giving two of the three matches to the second class-men . This final match between heavyweights would determine whether or not the Sophs could righteously maintain their traditional haughty and disdainful attitude towards the class-men below them. With so great a result at stake, it it not surprising that the upperclassmen, deeply interested, turned anxious faces to watch the Freshman candidate step into the ring. They saw Everett, whose a-chievements on the gridiron at Andover, had seemed to warrant the popular opinion that his berth on the Yale varsity would be cinched. His great weight, evenly distributed over

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12 BULKELEY NEWS The Coming oi Arthur. A S ARTHUR STANDISH lazily lounged on the window-seat in his room in Lawrance Hall overlooking the Campus, his eyes taking in the numerous scenes before him, he pondered over his situation. From all parts of the Campus came the hearty greetings of classmates meeting each other with tales of vacation accomplishments. Through open windows in Farnum Hall now and then there reached him, the strains of an impromptu orchestra, rendering the season’s popular musical hits. From the direction of Connecticut Hall the stirring strains of “Bingo”, warbled by a quartet of Seniors, came to him. But a few years back, when “preping” at Berkeley in that small Minnesota town, he was more than a student star reflected. As stroke on the crew, and as star end and captain of the football team he had won something of a reputation. But it was as champion interscholastic wrestler of the state that he gained the greatest fame. When he had decided to come to Yale, all Berkeley saw in him a great cause for future worry for Eli’s rivals. Arriving rather late in New Haven, Stan had been forced to occupy a single room in a far corner of one of the Freshman dormitories, the adjoining room being unoccupied, isolated him completely from his classmates. His retiring nature prevented him from making acquaintances, which at this period of college life, are so easy to acquire among homesick boys. So Stan, lived pretty much alone, rubbing elbows with his classmates only when attending classes, football games or class events. He knew most of his classmates casually, joining them when brought into actual contact with them but modestly refraining from thrusting his company on them. The opening of his Sophomore still found him pursuing his unobtrusive course. The greetings between his classmates and him were a little more cordial than the year before, due to the strange bond which comes between men who have braved together dangers of first year flunkings, warnings and conditions. Yet he had no real chum. His reminiscent mood was changed when after watching a few students roping in portions of the Campus, he realized that there was work ahead for all loyal Sophomores this night. “Rush Night”, the Freshmen’s first big night when they are introduced to campus life, meant that all undergraduates should appear on the campus. The two upper classes take their places along the outside of the ropes and hazard guesses on the outcome of the events. Sophomores and Freshmen are herded into separate groups, later to be marshalled into battle lines by “Y” men, who to the hero-worshipping Freshmen seem god-like. This year there were very few “letter” men to manage or Sophomores to take part in the Rush. The call from “Over There” had been heard at Yale. The spirit of “For God, for country and for Yale” had sent

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u I! ULKELE Y NE WS a massivs frame, and his well developed muscles, seen as he prepared for action, mads him appear quite a formidable foe. Winter’s call for a Sophomore candidate had produced great confusion in their camp. Morgan, the only a-vailable heavyweight representative was nowhere to be found. The upper-classmen shawed their impatience at the delay by cries of ‘ ‘Shake it up! Bring on a man, Sophs!” The continued commotion in the ranks of 1920, increased the indignation and caustic remarks of the expectant spectators, who thought that the match should be forfeited to the Freshmen, and who did not hesitate to tell the Sophs that they were quitters. Suppressing the overwhelming rage which was surging through him, Stan leaped under the ropes and presented himself as a contestant. The upperclassmen smiled at the spunky fellow who was offering to uphold the honor of his class against such an opponent. Art Standish’s classmates, at first greatly astonished at his move, soon became interested in watching the preparations for the match. A short handshake was a signal for activity to the wrestlers. Bending low, eyes glued on the man opposite, they stepped lightly around feeling for an opening. Now and then they clashed only to break apart without accomplishing any results. A great shout went up as Everett, who had seized Stan, raised him in the air and hurled him into the midst of astonished students grouped near the ropes. As a wild animal might playfully fling off an angry pup, this towering football hero again threw Stan. Freshmen smiled proudly while Sopho- mores showed the appreciation of Stan’s gritty bull-dog spirit by calling words of encouragement. Once again the surrounding buildings resounded the lusty cheers of the spectators. The name of the first-year Sampson did not enter this long Yale cheer which was given to Arthur Standish, who, after his second fall, had picked himself up and springing forward with a clean, hard, low tackle had smashed Everett to the ground. With the dexterity and skill of a veteran wrestler, he had crept forward on Everett’s prostrate body until, by bringing the full weight of his own body to bear on Everett’s higher shoulder, he had forced it down until it touched the earth. Coach Winter’s slap on the back, proclaimed Stan’s victory and announced to the school that another “Y” man had been brought to light. —’15.