Quincy High School - Goldenrod Yearbook (Quincy, MA)

Page 17 text:

16 THE GOLDEN-ROD away from her before she could fin- ish. Petruchio had invited scores of dressmakers and milliners to the house from whose stocks his wife was to choose clothes. Katherina was pleased by the stunning array of dresses and stood before the mir- ror trying them on. Petruchio eyed a trim, black hat with dissatisfaction. “Take it off, Kate; it looks lousey!” Katherina said, “I think I’ll buy it, I like it.” “It’s worse than a washerwoman’s derby. Take it off.” “I certainly will not!” Petruchio approached her and snatched it from her head, mussing her black curls and starting the tears again. Then he dismissed all the tradesmen without a single pur- chase. “Brute, I hate you!” “Keep still, you give me the head- ache.” “You can’t talk to me like that!” “Oh, no?” “You’re a wretch!” “Your language is sadly unrefined. Kate.” “I never want to see you again! You worm, I hate you!” Petruchio gave her a smart cuff on the back of the head and left her raging furiously. They made a journey the next day to Katherina’s home to obtain her wardrobe of clothes. This time they rode in Petruchio’s low-slung roadster of gleaming black and sil- ver and Petruchio wore white flan- nels and a dark blue jacket. Kath- erina was so thankful that she could have wept again. It was a bright afternoon and the wind was warm and sweet. Petruchio said, “How bright the moon is.” “What do you mean, the moon!” scoffed Katherina, “that’s the sun!” “I said it was the moon!” cried Petruchio. “And what I say goes!” Katherina set her lips and was silent. “And furthermore,” continued Pe- truchio, “unless you agree it’s the moon we turn back.” “All right,” sighed Katherina wearily, “it’s the moon.” At Baptista's they found a double wedding in process. Bianca and Lu- centio with two friends were taking the vows. Petruchio’s men friends hinted within their joking conversation that they sympathized with him for having obtained such an ill-tempered girl for a wife. “Gee, Marie is so easy to get along with,” said one. “We never argue.” “Boy, you should taste the lemon pies my dame slings across the sup- per table!” boasted another. “Well, boys,” grinned Petruchio, “1 11 bet five bucks that Katherina is more obedient than any of your worthy spouses.” “I could use five bucks,” said Lu- centio, digging into his pocket. Laughingly the others took up the bet. They sent a servant to Bianca first, telling her that her husband wanted her at once. The servant, looking pleasantly bored, returned saying that the young lady was too busy to come. The other young wives were also “busy.” “Now,” said Petruchio, “watch Katherina sprint.” Katherina appeared almost imme- diately and asked what her husband wished. “What,” asked Petruchio, “are the other girls doing?” “We were only sitting in my room talking,” answered Katherina. Several young men looked sheep- ish and Petruchio was twenty dol- lars richer. The evening wore on filled with merriment, noise and music. Mel- ody was hot and sweet and laughter was light. Petruchio stood on top of the piano and executed a tap dance, and to her own surprise Ka- therina found herself applauding with the others. When the evening ended Kather- ine appeared wearing a hat that Pe- (Continued on Pape ii)

Page 16 text:

THE GOLDEN-ROD 15 “You can’t do this!” she cried. “It’s impossible for you to appear like this! You’re insane!” “You look swell, Kate,” declared Petruchio with a grin. “I won’t permit this!'” stormed his bride-to-be. “Say, babe, you’re marrying me, not my clothes!” “I’ll marry neither!” cried Kath- erina. But the ceremony went on. Pe- truchio spilled cocktails at every op- portunity. Katherina wept and the guests enjoyed themselves. Petru- chio would not stay for the lavish wedding supper which Baptista had prepared. He took his bride away in his old, rusty rattletrap and they jounced over all the worst roads leading to his home. At the top of a high, rough hill the car suddenly wheezed to a stop and rolled back down to the bottom. Petruchio swore and shouted and Katherina sat huddled on the hard seat as he tinkered beneath the hood, crying with misery and hunger. “You beast! You contemptible pig! Take me home!” “How dare you talk to me like that!” “Then shut up!” Katherina wept in vain. They arrived at Petruchio’s home, a rambilng old country house set back among elms and wide lawns. Upon entering the hallway Kather- ina went straight to the telephone table. “What are you going to do?” asked her husband? “I’m going to call my father and tell him what a fool he is! He forced me into this marriage and now he’s going to get me out of it. You and he are the two most contemptible wretches I ever met!” Petruchio leaned carelessly against the doorway and regarded his bride with a grin. “The telephone’s dis- connected and anyway it’s time for supper. Come on.” “I’ll not go a step farther with you!” declared Katherina hotly. Whereupon Petruchio picked her up bodily and took her into the din- ing-room, where he sat her down none too gently before the table. “What, no caviar!” stormed Kath- erina. Petruchio looked exceedingly sur- prised and echoed, “No caviar? And look, Kate, the lousy grub they ex- pect us to eat! I shall fire all the servants!” He stood up with dignity and swept all the dishes into his arms. Katherina looked on fear- fully. “The rest is all right, Petruchio, don’t take it back.” “I’m sure,” said Petruchio gallant- ly, “that my bride is worthy of a better supper than this upon her wedding night.” He marched away with the dishes and Katherina, weak with hunger, burst into tears again. In their bedroom Katherina sank down into a deep armchair and closed her tired eyes. Petruchio sat down on the bed to take off his shoes. As soon as he touched the bed, he sprang up and swore loudly. Katherine opened her eyes and looked at him apprehensively. “And how is anyone expected to sleep on this mess of rocks!” cried Petruchio. He ripped off the bed covers and yanked at the mattress. “Those servants, I shall fire them all!” “Petruchio, stop it!” cried Kath- erina. “But you can’t sleep on a bed like this, Kate, it would kill you!” He continued to pull off the mattress and sheets. Katherina was almost at the hair- tearing point. She sat up all night lamenting her fate, while Petruchio paced the floor and cursed the serv- ants. The next morning Petruchio, sun- ny-faced and cheery, brought his wife breakfast. Katherina bright- ened a little at the sight of the sav- ory food, but it was all snatched

Page 18 text:

REPAIR WORK By Wi-nona Mutch QANCY, stop acting like a child! Has it come to the point where I must com- mand you to go into that ballroom?” Nancy, eyes blazing, faced her mother defiantly. “I can’t help it! I refuse to force myself on people! Can’t you under- stand that I’m not—! “No, I can’t! Stop balking! A girl as lovely as you should be as unconscious with these people as you are with working men. You could be, if you wished!” “Mother, don’t you suppose I want to be popular? Why should I come to a ball like this just to sit, and feel silly all evening? I won't go in there! You forced me here, but you cant (jet me past this threshold! Just be- cause Ronald Barnaby—!” “Keep quiet! Here he comes!” Clutching Nancy’s reluctant arm and radiating cordiality, she stepped forward to greet the young man who was passing. Smiling sweetly, one fluttering hand on Nancy’s arm, the other pat- ting her hair, she asked: “Nancy, you remember Ronald, do you not? I have the cunningest snap- shot of you as babies playing to- gether on our lawn.” Then, through the haze of her em- barrassment jabbing her program card against the wall, dropping it. twisting her lacy handkerchief. Nancy saw a tall man with shiny dark hair and delicate looking hands, certainly not the hands of the explorer he was supposed to be, and heard herself saying in a choked voice, “Of course, how do you do?” Excusing himself, Ronald soon left them with a request for a dance later on. Then, the partners. Old men. fat men, bald men, uncles, fathers, a scattering of dutiful young men. And through it all, her mother’s watchful, sharp eyes and the acute consciousness of that sleek, black, self-confident head continually sur- rounded by perfect marcels and fluffy dresses. Then, suddenly, a deep voice. “You promised me a dance, Nancy. May I have this one?” “Certainly;” she gasped. It was painfully long. Vainly she searched her mind for something to say. She felt her mother’s eyes bor- ing into her back constantly. The music seemed as if it would go on forever. Then, it ended. A failure! A bleak, bare failure, as usual. Oh, to get away from it all: some place away from mocking explorers with perfectly groomed ham's and sleek black hair! Then she saw her mother sweep- ing rapidly, eagerlv, upon her. “Well—?” Nancy cringed. “Of course, lie’s taking you home? That was the last dance.” “Oh, mother, keep still! Why can’t you leave me alone for a change?” Her mother stiffened perceptibly. “Very well! Let’s go home.” Silence. Dense silence all the way home. A curt good night at her bed- room door, and at last—alone! She tossed and turned. Finally she dozed only to be wakened by nightmares of eyes staring at her out of the darkness. Mocking, charming eyes. She awoke again. Why must she be thrown at men who didn’t want her? Men she didn’t want. The night dragged on. Then, at last dawn! She heard the clock strike seven and her mother stir heavily. “I can’t, can’t see her this morn- ing.” she choked, and hurriedly dressed and went out unseen. Her car was still in the driveway. She climbed in and drove at a breakneck speed down the road.