Quincy High School - Goldenrod Yearbook (Quincy, MA)

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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

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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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pened twenty years ago. How times have changed! ! (I think I haven’t said this before.) The 1917 edition was singular in many ways. For one, the World War was not even mentioned once. However, that is the only singular thing I can remember right now. Came the edition of June. 1928. Sad to relate, bustles had gone, but short skirts were the thing. Dat ol’ debbil,” slang, had a strong foothold on the unfor- tunate inmates. Girls were all trying to imitate Clara Bow. the It” girl. As from the beginning, the little sophomores were the butt of the juniors, the juniors were the butt of the seniors, and the sophomores were also the victim of their conceit. Time marches on! June, 1929. As the lunches were pretty crowded with vermin and as waste papers were being strewn around, the result of the seniors playing basketball with it, a third lunch was instituted. As a result, more vermin crowded the corridors and the seniors played the same sort of basketball more than ever. Cafeteria lectures were ardently given by cafeteria-cleaner-uppers” and look at the results today. The speeches must have had a double meaning. The joke department, thanks to the advancing generation, was considerably improved, though the seniors’ wit, if such it could be called, was absolutely withering in some remarks. For instance, one “bright young thing suggested that all the discussion about sophomores and seniors be ended, because the young Frankenstein would give to the world a mixture of both, a junior! ! That is what I call an insult, but worry not, the day will come. Again time skips gaily along and 1930 brought the next June issue. The only thing to recommend it was the beautiful if satiric display of cartoons. The cartoons depicting the sophomores and seniors were marvellously true to life, but of course those of the juniors were only miserable caricatures. All this may seem to you only a review of all the past, but not passed-up. Golden Rods. However, this is only helping me to recall enough courage to express my worthy opinions of the magazine as a whole. So, here I go again. The Golden Rod of June, 1931 was fortunately blessed with a beautiful cover. That means, of course, a girl graced it. This issue was also unfortunately unblessed with the homely but kindly (I still know that It’s a Sin to Tell a Lie”) visages of the seniors. They had conceitedly voted to have in the graduation issue their pic- tures and their addresses. (No, no phone numbers of the opposite sex!) This made the magazine larger and the purchasers thought that they were getting more for Eighteen