Plymouth High School - Pilgrim Yearbook (Plymouth, MA)

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10 THE PILGRIM TOMORROW -In Fancy 13 Mayflower Street Pilgrim Hollow June 15, 1949 Miss Janie Christie Christie's Cure Company 1414 Broadway New York City, New York Dear Miss Christie: We, Selde M. Wright and Watson A. Kname, traveling salesmen par excel- lence, are now in Pilgrim Hollow, where we stopped to sell your product, Christie's Cure for Corns and Chil- blainsf' However, we met so many of your old friends here that we decided to write you about all we saw. A report of our sales will follow later. As we stopped at the Bus Terminal, Catherine Leonardi, President and Chief Pilot of Kitty's Kumfy Koach Line, shouted, All out for Pilgrim Hollow! We hurriedly clambered from the bus, following Elsie Mullaney and Florence Pimental, the other passengers, and walked across the street to the Pilgrim Hollow Railroad Station. As we en- tered, the Creeping Comet, piloted by Wendell Holmes, rushed into the station. The Comet was three hours, seventeen minutes, and thirty-four seconds late, as usual, though it comes to Pilgrim Hollow but once a week. As soon as it stopped, out came four familiar people. Look, said Selde to Watson, there are Mary Zucchelli, Martha Vickery, Ruth Schilling, and Olivia Soares. Sure enough, out they piled, all sputtering at Lester Anderson, the conductor, because the train was late. By this time Bob Pratt, the baggage master, had a- wakened and started sorting the trunks for these travelers. Beep! Beep! Look out! Up the street came tearing Herb MacBride's Traipsing Taxi. We leaped out of the way as the taxi groaned to a halt and disgorged Priscilla Douglass and Harriet Childs, who rushed pell- mell for the Creeping Cometf' Selde, said Watson, We'd better take this taxi and go up-town. So off we flew, sample cases in hand, to hail the Traipsing Taxi before it could get under way. Once in and started, we had to hang on for dear life, fearing a crash at any moment, but finally we arrived at the City Hall, where we escaped from the cab. We entered the Hall, and, see- ing the door to the Mayor's oflice, we went in. There we discovered Mayor Wilfred Nickerson at his desk, in con- ference with John Cadorette of the Council, in charge of the Chemical Re- search Department of Pilgrim Hollow. vv e were greeted warmly, for these were old friends. We left the Mayor's office and proceeded to look around the Town Hall, which also served as a police and iire station. First into the police station where we found A. Franklin Pierce, Chief of Police, asleep at his desk. Hur- riedly we tiptoed out to the street, just as Sergeant John Dupuis, the other policeman, drove up in the Black Maria. At this moment the fire alarm rang, and, with sirens howling and bells clanging, David Bodell, Fire Chief, whizzed past closely followed by Charlie Brewster and Edward Bibeau in a bi-ight red and yellow iire engine. Fol- lowing them, we found the iire at the Picazano Pet Palace. The sign at the entrance read- Prize Pomeranians- Pullets - Poll Parrots - Pollywogs -- Perky Penguins - Poodles - Pets-a- rlenty. ' 'l he shop, of course, was that of Congetta Provinzano and Jeannette Picard. Having met so many old friends already, we decided to make a tour of Pilgrim Hollow instead of distributing our wares. Perceiving a garage across the street, we went over to rent a car. There we dis- covered the show rooms of Motta and Otto, dealers in new, used, etc. cars. We were pleasantly surprised to see Betsy Drew buying a supercharged V24 Otto- I'llObll'E. Having rented a Motta-car, we started on our tour. Off we went down Main Street, and at the iirst intersection we spied James lodice selling papers and simulta- neously making a speech from a soap- box, d-emanding a new deal for news- boys. He had only one listener, Alfred Francis, who was doing more arguing than listening. After some difficulty in attracting attention, we managed to purchase a Pilgrim Hollow Gasjettef' You can imagine our amazement when we saw on the front page that famous column- One Nose to the Grindstonen -by Robert Raymond. Turning the pages of the Gasjette , we noted that none other than Arthur Poirier was the owner and publisher. Also there was another column, Girl Counsels Boy by Virginia Vinton, and a comic strip por- traying life in the suburbs of Pilgrim Hollow, Mitey Mary Ann , drawn by Mary McCosh. Turning back to the first

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THE PILGRIM 9 skating contest next year. It may be possible that the Athl-etic Fund will pro- xgde pneumatic cushions for the un- fortunate ones. MRS. GARVIN :A box of sharp, sturdy tacks for the discouragement of motor- ists who persist in making a boulevard of the girls' hockey field. MR. BAGNALL: Our compliments on his choice of cravats, which pleases even our fastidious taste. MISS DOWLING: A truckful of all con- ceivable types of drawing supplies, so that her art students may do even greater things than we've come to ex- pect of them. MISS LANG: Our thanks for her co- operation when the Class of '39 was de- bating the question of plaid for our class colors. The idea was original, to say the least. MR. GARLAND: A second Robert Wad- low for the center spot on next year's team. MISS LOCKLIN: A detachable snow- plow for her car, said appurtenance to be affixed immediately when she reaches the outskirts of Boston. MR. KNOWLTON: A barrel of apples for his gastronomic delight-and a rabbit hound pour la chassef' MR. PACKARD: An autogyro to trans- port him safely from his domicile in the wilderness to a haven outside Room 102. MISS BOUCHER: A r-equirement that all Senior girls take her cooking course, so that the Class of '39 may make con- tributions of everlasting value to the American cuisine. MISS JUDD: A challenge from her to Floyd Gibbons to dictate more rapidly than she can transcribe in shorthand, the results of said contest to prove be- yond a doubt that the pen is mightier than the tongue. MISS HUMPHREY: Flexible periscopes to be used by certain Seniors who oc- cupy front-row seats in the balcony of the auditorium. This will allow them to focus their optics on the students below without violating the sacredness of the balcony railing. MISS CooMBs: A lot of praise for a wee lass with a grand smile Whose wil- lingness to help others, though occupied with her own secretarial duties, is most gratifying. MISS KELLY: A gold-lined, diamond- studded peephole in her umbrella to minimize the danger of perforating un- wary students while she is crossing the Training Green. MISS JOHNSON : A class of study hall students who always arrive punctually. MISS RAFTER: Morris, Richelieu, and Hamilton controlled the finances of na- tions. But our thanks to Miss Rafter for suggesting the solution of the even more perplexing problem of graduation funds by the introduction of the school banking system. MR. CRAMER: A welcome to New England's rocky shores. We sincerely hope his stay in Plymouth will be a long and pleasant one. MISS WILBER: An orchid to her and her cooperative Senior Latin students for furnishing such fine choices of class mottoes. MISS HUNT: A special dispensation from Providence which would prevent her from hearing any of' our discords. MR. ROMANO! A whistle of unique in- tensity, such that its clarion call may abet his officiating at those hectic South Shore basketball games. MISS ALBERTINI: A cordial invitation to demonstrate to us what weunderstand was her chief avocation while she was a Senior in high school MISS JACQUES: An enconium to her and the I. C. C. for bringing to the school what it considers one of the finest ass-embly programs of the year. CLASS OF 1940: Our condolences in the difficulties you will encounter in attempting to maintain the standards set by the Class of '39. CLASS OF 1941: A gentle hint, dear Juniors to be, that you read our latest book, How To Win Friends and In- fluence School Teachersf' The informa- tion contained therein is the invaluable result of twelve years' research. Signed, sealed, and blotted in the ex- ecutive chambers of Slaphappia by Ima Dudd and Yure A. Nother. Will someone save the Commonwealth of Slaphappia? PAUL DOUGLAS ROBERT RAYMOND The editors wish to thank Miss Judd and her typists for assistance in the preparation of copy for The Pilgrim.

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THE PILGRIM 11 page, we noted an item of interest,- Frances Mulcahy, Mary Kelly, and Mary Ryan had won prizes at the Irish Boiler- makers' Picnic for cooking the best Mulligatawny. Also Phil O'Connell and Bill Shea had performed the best Irish Washerwomann jig. Well, enough of news, remarked Watson. Let's get some gasoline. So we drove up to Edward Bradford's Gasoline Dispensory and found our- selves just behind Gladys Mueller and Marilyn Gilman, who were having their car serviced by Willy Disalvatore and Robert Proctor, the able and ambitious attendants. While waiting, we tuned in our radio just in time to hear the last silver strains of a violin fade away. An announcer spoke,- You have just heard. Agnes Silva and her silver violin, accompanied by Eunice Santos at the piano. You have been listening to Colonel Robert Po's Amat-eur Hour, on the air at this hour every week. This is station WPHS at Pilgrim Hollow. We present a special news bulletin. Paul Douglas, formerly of Pilgrim Hollow, has been appointed Ambassador to Scotland. Mr. Douglas is the second person in the world to blow Wee Gillis' bagpipe. . . The next program is that of the Octette Originale , wit-h the silver- tongued master of ceremonies, Bob Lowry, at the microphone. Take it, Bob. Then through our speaker came the theme- The Siberian Desert Song , in- troducing the Octette Originalen. Greetings and salutations, good people, this is your man Lowry, speaking for the Awful Octette , with the Dicks Lanman and .Silva, clarinet virtuosos, Dick Schneider and George Stefani at the corny cornets, Harry Longhi and Bob Lee, saxaphonists, Parker Barnes, slip-horn artist, and Bud Henning beating the tom-toms. Now everybody swings into action as Vern Hogan, that golden-voiced caroo-ooner, warbles number thirteen on our hit parade,- By this time we were ready to leave the gas station, so, shutting off the radio, we proceeded along the street once more, glancing at the various shops. First we saw Canducci's Shoe Hospital, with large l-etters on the window read- ing,- Save your soles, you heels! In- side Margaret Kaiser and Helen Swift were having their high heels repaired. Next to this place was Lodis' Luxury Laundry, owned jointly by Frances and Dorothy Lodi. Just coming out were Mary Mahler and Jeanette Harty, bundles of clothing piled high on their arms. Across the street we noticed, side by side, Shwom's Super-Service Suit Shoppe and Goldsmithis Gawjus Gowns. In the first we met Warren Diegoli, the stockroom superinten-dent, and Margaret Rudolph, who was buying some flashy ties, for whom she wouldn't say. In the dress shop we found Eleanor Fascioli and Alice Govi dis- cussing the merits and faults of the gowns displayed. Adjoining the dress shop was Cy's Versatile Vittle Empo- rium, owned by Mario Solieri, and there was Iole Marvelli decorating the win- dow. Inside Mary Paoletti, Jenny Giori, and Clara Pinto were victims of the vending of viands. Perhaps with a thought of borrowing, we entered the Pilgrim Hollow Last National Bank. We were greeted by the banker, Presi- dent George Banker, and the tellers, Al- berta Pederzani and Doris Ruprecht. As we left, Antonette Rossetti, Beverly .Henrion, and Dorothy .Scanland entered, evidently going in to deposit their money. As we walked by, we peeked into the telephone office, and there saw Dorothy Reed and Ceserine Campana busy at the switchboards. Adjacent to this office was that of the Pilgrim H-ollow Knowl- edge Company. In Pilgrim Hollow knowledge is used in place of electricity, since Scientia Potestas Est . Inside we found Katherine Barratta, Edith De- Cost, and Harriet Longhi, busy supply- ing the power from their store of knowledge. Feeling the need of a creampuff or two, we invaded the Pil- grim Hollow Pastry House, owned by Frances Brown. In here Dorothy Cor- rea and Elizabeth Hanelt were buying some loaves of Hathaway Bread, which was on special sale. On the street again we encountered Thomas Fugazzi and Robert Hughes, gentleman farmer and manager of the Pilgrim Hollow Town Team respectively, in earnest conference over something we couldn't quite hear because John Spurr, the streetcleaner, was singing too loudly the streetcleaner's national hymn, You Gutter Make Sewer You Keep it Clean. The next stop in our tour was Ber- nados' Asylum for Children, operated jointly by Dolores and Rose. By this time we were nearing the beach and waterfront, and before us lay Brigida's Fish Market. As we opened the door, Angelo Brigida drove past with a truckload of perfumed UD fish. Well,