Quincy High School - Goldenrod Yearbook (Quincy, MA)

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 Tke. LnAt (Pni e By DOROTHY BASSETT In the top floor apartment of an old brick building in the heart of Greenwich Village young John Martel stood before a battered easel on which reposed a can- vas filled with a hopeless jumble of colors. When finished this picture would prob- ably be called “A Thorn in the Foot. It was modern art. The day was bright and warm for it was early spring. A breeze blew through the open window that looked over dingy rooftops toward the skyline of New York City. Young Martel stood glaring at his finished product. A frown furrowed his brow. He was a good looking, dark haired young man, but rather thin. He had the long, slender, sensitive hands of an artist. He wiped paint-smeared fingers on a dirty smock and ran them through his thick wavy hair in a gesture of despair. It was all so discouraging. For two years now he had been studying art without much success. Yet this was the only work in which the young man was happy. He could not give it up now. The New York Art Museum was sponsoring an art contest with $500 as first prize for the best painting submitted. It was his great opportunity. A hungry gnawing in his stomach told him that it was time to eat. But he was not going to eat for the simple reason that there was nothing to eat in the house and he did not possess the funds to obtain any food. With a weary sigh he put his paints away. The next morning upon awakening John felt even hungrier. This would never do. A sudden thought struck him. He tried to put it out of his mind but it kept creeping back. Finally he went to the door and looked up and down the hallway. In front of apartment 10 directly across the hall stood a gleaming white bottle of milk. After a brief struggle with his conscience John slowly crept toward the bottle. Just is he stooped to pick it up, the door flew open and he found himself looking at two dainty feminine feet. As his gaze went slowly upward he met two icy blue eyes set in a small oval face framed with golden hair. Well!” came the frigid voice. John blushed crimson and stuttered. I — er, well you see, I was hungry.” Her eyes softened. He did not look like the sort of person who was in the habit of stealing bottles of milk. Thirty-one

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 fumni John Walsh ( 36) has earned a Second Class Seaman’s rating in the United States Navy. George Cook ( 36) recently completed a cruise to the Azores and the Medi- terranean on the Massachusetts Nautical Training Ship. While there his ship narrowly averted a clash with a rebel cruiser from Spain. Madelyn Vera ( 35) has a secretarial position in the executive office of the local Lincoln Store. George Kilnapp (’54) a graduate from Bentley’s Accounting School, opened to the public Quincy’s first certified public accountant’s office in the Quincy Sav- ings Bank Building. Doris Dennison (F ’34) is attending Bridgewater Teachers’ College. Theodora French (’36) is at present employed in the Quincy Patriot Ledger office. John MacAIIister (’35) has hearkened to the call of the sea. John is engineer of the S.S. Malong which plies between New York and Bucksport, Maine. A reunion of four members of tlve class of 1936 took place when Edith An- derson. Doris Swanson, Janet Purdon, and Florence Allgorin were employed by the John Hancock Insurance Company. Hugh Nixon (’17) is secretary of the Massachusetts Teachers’ Association and editor of the Massachusetts Teacher. Forrest A. Pease (’33) is attending Brown University where he is a three- letter man. Sylvia Koose, editor-in-chief of the Golden Rod in 1953, is completing her senior year at Portia Law School where she is president of the day class. Linnea Allgorin. news editor of the Golden Rod in 1933, is also in her senior year at Portia Law School. Linnea is president of the evening class. William A. Coates (’33) is at present attending Harvard University. Gunnar Olson (‘23) was a recent candidate for representative of the Socialist Party in Quincy. Roger Saville (’35) has gone “down to the sea in ships.’’ He is junior third engineer on the S.S. Yarmouth of the Eastern Steamship Lines. Marion Chambers and Jean Rigby, members of the Golden Rod staff in 1933, are both attending Bridgewater. Thirty

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“Perhaps you’d better come in and have some breakfast.” Very much surprised by this unexpected and welcome invitation John mum- bled thanks and followed her. John soon learned that her name was Madeline Carpenter, that she was a native of New York, and worked as a private secretary for Richard Caldwell, wealthy stock broker and art collector. I suppose you would like to know who I am, John said when she had finished. “Well, I am John Martel, just another struggling painter who hopes to be famous some day. It doesn’t look as though I am on the road to success judging from my actions this morning. I can’t tell you how sorry I am.’’ Oh, forget it.” she smiled. “I understand how you must have felt.” As he looked across the table he thought how lovely she would look on canvas. “Will you let me paint you?” he asked eagerly. “If you’d like to.” For the next two weeks every afternoon after Madeline had finished work John painted her sweet face while she sat and posed for him. His hopes were high these days. He was already planning what he would do with the $500. Make Madeline proud of him, certainly. When the picture was finally completed they stood gazing at it. In their hearts they were a little disappointed but they did not dare to voice their fears. It was an excellent picture, to be sure, but not very unusual; merely a pretty face. Madeline could not bear to see Johnny disappointed. There must be some- thing she could do. Richard Caldwell had money and influence. He should be able to help John in some way. The boy really had talent. Many afternoons after that Madeline spent with her employer discussing art and trying to gain Mr. Caldwell’s interest in John. On one of these occasions John happened to see them together. So, this was the reason why he had not seen Madeline lately. He was not good enough for her. The glamour of wealth had fascinated her. She had made a fool of him once, but she would not do it again. He would show her. Madly he dashed to his little studio, locked himself in and set to work. He ripped the picture of Madeline from the easel and started a new one. This pic- ture, he decided, would be called Temptation. It would show a young girl dazzled by the glitter of money and jewels. The face was Madeline’s. Furiously he worked without stopping, putting all his bitter, pent-up feeling on canvas. One week later Madeline walked sadly through the Museum. Why had John disappeared so suddenly? The landlady would not tell her where he had gone. She could not understand it. Her eyes suddenly lighted on a painting. There, in front of her, unmistakably, was her own face. Underneath the picture was the title Temptation” by John Martel. In plain view hung a little blue ribbon on which was printed “First Prize.” » Thirty-two