Quincy High School - Goldenrod Yearbook (Quincy, MA)

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“What will be your fate now?” Chang’s shoulders slumped. From his now ashen-gray face his black eyes showed defeat. But. when he spoke, his voice did not quiver. It was firm and proud. “I will meet the same fate as my rebel comrades. We shall face a firing squad at high noon tomorrow.” Mr. Chang, Elizabeth said, carefully avoiding her brother s eyes, “you can escape if you so desire. We can arrange some way, I am sure. To her surprise her brother spoke. “Yes, Chang, I appreciate your warning me and I should like to repay you. I can have the ambulance prepared and you may leave as a patient. I he soldiers will not stop the ambulance.” A smile o’erspread the usually unsmiling features of Chang. “Thank you both very much,” he said, “but, I cannot accept your kindness. It would not be fair that I should escape and the rest of my friends should face execution. I may not be much good, but I have a sense of honor. Does that seem strange to you?” Elizabeth and Rolfc started to speak, but with a gesture Chang stopped them. “I will take my leave now. Good-bye, Doctor. Good-bye, Miss Rolfc. He shut the door with a firm hand. All was quiet within the room. Presently, the silence was broken by Elizabeth. Chang ” she hesitated. “Yes, Sis,” her brother interrupted. I know what you are thinking. Chang was a man of noble character. If he had started on the right road he would have been very successful in life. One can’t help but admire him. As much as I wanted to help, I should not have respected him half so much if he had accepted our help to escape.” Is there no way we can possibly help? Is there not a chance that he might be freed?” “I am afraid not. You see. the government is so afraid of some day being overthrown that they punish these uprisers severely. Usually the soldiers, who are probably poverty-stricken and ignorant, are put into prisons where they are made to work. The officers, however, have death presented to them as their punishment. Death, in a way, is the less horrible. If you had ever seen the inside of one of these prisons you would understand why, Elizabeth. Rolfe explained. The two looked out the window. Chang had reached the gate and had just given himself over to a guard. Two soldiers came to his side. Before they could take him away he turned to the window where Rolfe and Elizabeth were and bowed low. It was not a humble bow. It was proud and brave. Then he dis- appeared through the gate. Elizabeth went over to the desk and picked up a pad of paper. She glanced at her watch and then, turning to Gordon Rolfe, said, Don’t forget, you have an appointment at the governor-general’s at one.” Sixteen

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 Why are you so persistent. Doctor? There is always a possibility that the movement may fail and if it does I will have a chance to carry out a plan I have in mind.” A clock began to strike. At the twelfth chime Chang snapped to attention and in a sharp voice cried, In the name of my army I take command of this hos- pital!” He continued in a milder tone. I will do all in my power to protect you and your sister. The doctor said nothing, but busied himself with some charts. Chang nerv- ously paced the floor, occasionally glancing out of the window. Elizabeth came bursting in very excitedly, an unusual thing for her. Did you know she began breathlessly. Yes. I know,” the doctor interrupted her. Mr. Chang has been telling me about it. But brother, what about our hospital? Just when it appeared that there was a chance for us to help these poor Chinese.” “Don’t give up hope. I may yet be able to keep that appointment. All through the conversation Chang had been walking in a caged-animal manner, muttering, “Why this delay? Something must have happened. This plan must go through.” Chang glanced at his watch. Almost twenty minutes had passed. The doctor and Elizabeth watched him intently, but there was no satisfaction in Chang's glance, for he was plainly alarmed. Rolfe opened his mouth but shut it again, as if he thought that silence at this time was best. The usually silent hospital corridor burst into commotion, a door flew open, and in catapulted a young Chinese lad who was about ready to weep. Doctor, oh. Doctor, the patients are all crying and attempting to leave their beds. Please come. Someone has spread the rumor that there will be a battle and all will be killed.” “Chang, may I go to my patients?” the doctor asked. Chang gave his consent and the doctor left with the young hospital errand boy. Elizabeth turned to Chang and asked him what would happen if the move- ment failed. Chang explained that if the rebels were taken by the government forces all the leaders would be executed. Doctor Rolfe, at that particular second, came bounding down the corridor like a lad of sixteen rather than a graduate doctor of his position. Elizabeth,” he fairly shrieked, the government forces have surrounded the settlement! The rebels are being held at bay outside the gates! They will soon be taken captive! An immense sigh of relief escaped from betwen Elizabeth s slightly parted lips. She and her brother turned to Chang with one accord. Fifteen

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■4CY. MASS HThfc QoUdoi (Rod - JZltenany Ma coen By HAROLD BERTRAND Under very unpromising conditions I will attempt to unburden myself in re- gard to the Quincy Senior High School s famous literary masterpiece, the Golden Rod. For forty-five years the Golden Rod has ranked high in the minds of all, espe- cially our great seniors. In 1891 the first issue came out. It was a little pamphlet with no girls’ picture on the cover (ah me), and it was very thin. The jokes were ex- ceedingly uproarious, an example of one being “Vacation again, (ha! ha!).” The stories were those of an artist, each be- ginning with a very effective opening sentence and ending happily. Quincy’s “new” high school was being planned. It is now the ’ old” high school. How time flies! ! The girls wore half a dozen petticoats and bustles. The boys wore high collars. Both species thought that they were “classy.” Tsk! ! Tsk! ! How misinformed they were. And so merrily the Golden Rod rolled along. Up through the nineties” it went. Then came the 1900’s. Tripping blithely ahead, the Golden Rod came through the turmoil of the World War, unscathed, unbeaten and with the jokes as bad as ever. The spring of 1911 brought another Golden Rod. In the fateful football game with Brockton, the habit of losing reared its ugly head and so — we lost. A more interesting thing appeared. Every pupil worked his hard head off to get an E.” You must think that they were crazy. Well, maybe in other ways they were, but did I tell you that E” meant excellent,” not very poor”? The edition of 1916 would be a joy to those things called “sophomores who infest our school. In 1916, strange to say, the sophs were not the butt (I said this before) of the juniors and seniors. Why? Because in those ancient days fresh- men, even a lower order of insect life, were the victims. The freshman looked up to the sophomore as sort of a god. Of course, you must remember that this hap- Seventeen