Quincy High School - Goldenrod Yearbook (Quincy, MA)

Page 23 text:

 lite Cjolclen ..GOLDEN Editor ........Frederic Just Assistant Editor .Omer Morin Literary ....Charlotte Coates News ........Anne Connolly Alumni ......Miriam Mattson ROD STAFF.. Jokes .............Carl Hager i Edith Pyyny Sports..... ( John Mackenzie j Samuel Evans ) John Kelly Joe Monti Exchange ...........George Loney Business Faculty Advisers Vera Call, Muriel Goudey, Margaret Marr, Catherine Walsh, Leslie Millard Art THE LETTER BOX THE GOLDEN ROD STAFF Gentlemen and Otherwise: In my opinion you made a mistake in asking for opinions, because, who, after a year, or two, or three in any school, is not bubbling over with them! My present pet antipathy is the way Shakespeare is treated. A noted Irish playwright speaks with contempt for the literary departments of the world. He declares that Shakespeare never intended or desired to be treated like a God, and surely one in Shakespeare’s own profession would know more about the subject than the hitherto undisputed English departments. If a high school student saw Hamlet” played by the greatest company on earth, instead of being impressed and thrilled, when Hamlet started the famous to be or not to be,” he would probably chant that is the question.” That brings us to the question of memory selections. These appear to me as a useless attempt to make us appear well read. It can’t be done. Three days after writing twenty selections, it would be an extraordinary student who could remember seven. I could go on this way forever, but my right forefinger is tired (as I am typing the good old one-finger method.) Incidentally, how about a course in typing for preparatory students? We certainly need one. Yours truly, George C. Russell. (continued on page 25)

Page 22 text:

lite Cjolden Rob EDITORIALS SPEAKING OF CONTESTS Now listen fella’s. This is the biggest contest of the year next Saturday. 1 know ya’ve got the stuff. Now get out there and show it. That’s in the gym. Then in a classroom: I can tell you right now that this course is no bed of roses. It’s going to be a contest from beginning to end and the best man wins. If you want a good mark, you’ve got to work for it.” You’re looking for a job and this is your prospective employer: I’ve got no room for loafers in this business. It’s work, work, work if you want to stay with me. You are reaching the time now when you have got to show the world your stuff : It’s going to be a contest from beginning to end” and the best one wins there too. Better start getting ready to fight now. BUY IN QUINCY Buy in Quincy! Buy in Quincy!” We suppose the students of Quincy High School are tired of that phrase. But this time we have good reason to say it again. A number of merchants (and there will undoubtedly be more) have promised us support in the way of ads in the Golden Rod and in other ways too if we can send some of the high-school trade to them. Now more ads in the Golden Rod mean more money that the staff can spend and the more we spend the better the magazine for you to read. So patronize Quincy stores and benefit yourself, your school, and your magazine. WANT A STADIUM? Quincy High School is on trial. The jury consists of the people of Quincy. The plaintiffs are the merchants of the same city. The charge is malicious destruction of property after the Brockton game. As it is, we haven’t got a chance with that jury. The sentence, if we are convicted, is to keep on going miles away to see our teams play and pay money into another school’s pockets. All hope of even getting our long-hoped-fot stadium is gone. Now, come on! If we want a football and track field, we’ve got to show we know how to use one. Let’s make ourselves an asset to the school rather than a liability.

Page 24 text:

'Tlte Golden Rod ALUMNI JOHN WALSH WRITES OF TRAVELS John Walsh, F30, has contributed a most interesting letter relating his experiences during a trip abroad last summer. White at high school lie took part in the Student Council, Debating Society, and ••Golden-Hod.” lie is now doing post graduate work at Harvard University. En route to Venice our ship called at many quaint ports, such as Ponta Del- gada in the Azores, Lisbon, Gibraltar, raima in the Balearic Islands, Cannes, .Monte Cano, Naples, Palermo, Patras, and Ragusa. Palma, Patras, and Ragusa, i contess, were utterly new names to me. As the harbors at most of these ports were too shallow for the liner we were taken ashore in all sorts of tiny craft, ranging from humble coal barges through ship’s life boats to luxurious speed boats. At Ponta, Gibraltar, and Pa- tras hordes of small vessels packed with wares and clamoring vendors swarmed about the ship. After almost intermin- able haggling, during which the original price of five dollars generally shrank to one dollar, the bargain being struck, the purchase was brought aboard by means of a small basket hauled up from the tiny boats below. A day’s sail from Gibraltar, Britain’s mighty fortress guarding the entrance to the Mediterranean Sea, found us at Mallorca in the Balearic Islands, the islands deriving their name from the Latin word meaning “sling.” Tn ancient times the inhabitants were renowned for their skill in the use of the sling. Caesar took many of them with him on his in- vasion of Britain. Palma boasts one of the largest bull- rings in Spain, with a capacity of 23,000. It surprised us to learn that on the night previous to our visit there had been two girl toreadors, an innovation in bull- fighting. From Cannes, France, a drive along the beautiful world-famous Riviera took us to Monte Carlo. The tortuous road clung precariously to the steep hills ris- ing sharply from the deep blue Mediter- ranean. In the distance lay the snow- capped Alps. Occasionally we passed tiny medieval towns nestling snugly in the rugged green hills. At Monte Carlo, of course, everyone visits the famous Casino. Although summer is not the bril- liant season, considerable playing was in progress. On the way to Naples the ship sailed close to romantic Corsica, home of Meri- mee s heroine, Colomba, and Elba, Napo- leon's prison. Writers have praised the beauties of the Bay of Naples lor centu- ries, and justly so. The gorgeous deep blue water forms a striking contrast with the light brown and yellow stone houses of the city. In the distance, en- shrouded in a bluish haze, Vesuvius smokes quietly, apparently unmindful of the destruction it has wrought in the past. A splendid new toll auto speedway led us directly to Pompeii, the Roman summer resort destroyed in 79 A. D. After nearly 200 years of excavation only one quarter of the city has been re- vealed, but priceless treasures have al- ready been disclosed. Indeed to the dis- coveries made here historians owe most of their knowledge of the life of the Romans. Many of the lovely villas have been restored, and in some cases the brilliant frescoes and murals are excel- lently preserved. The deep ruts worn by the chariot wheels in the paved streets, as well as some of the lead pipes of the water system are still visible. Between Sicily and the Italian main- land lie the Straits of Messina, the abode of Scylla and Charybdis of ancient days. The swirling eddies and whirlpools set