Stevens High School - Red and Black Yearbook (Claremont, NH)

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12 THE RED AND BLACK About this time, the juniors took charge of the Stevens News. Perhaps it was a good thing, as some of the more enthusiastic readers had found themselves able to detect the authorship of certain articles by the Havor. Pinafore was the operetta for that year. The cast, with very few exceptions, was composed of Seniors. Richard McSwain's monocle took the prize and Harry Dansereau's uniform was pretty spiffy. Then there was Mary Langdon as Buttercup. She might not have been voted the prettiest girl in the class if she really looked like Buttercup. Some said that this production excelled all its predecessors. Having done with Pinafore , an attempt was made at a Senior Play. Lo! and Behold-it was acclaimed the best so far recorded in the annals of the school. But, why shouldn't it have been? The Seniors put it on and they supported it. Those who didn't see Arthur Rouillard in his high-water-pants , and Arthur Osgood as the hero, really missed something. Why, the following week, half the boys showed up with their collars open and sans ties, just because of that last scene. They had to do something to bring the girls around again. Then the Class Picnic, Class Day, Senior Reception. joyous days, those -they went all too quickly. Here we must leave this jolly crowd for their four years are over. We know that here and there among them a heart will ache to have it end so suddenly. VVe know it because we know each individual. You who tomorrow will write what we can not write here for lack of foresight, remember what we say: They lived it, they loved it. Q3

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THE RED AND BLACK ll Having finished that part which was their duty, a search was made for something else to do. Light things couldn't be considered, so they pondered. Of a sudden the idea came that Stevens lacked a newspaper. Of course there was the Daily Eagle , but one couldn't put gossip in that, so, a tremendous advertising scheme was put into effect. Result: the Stevens News was begun. The collecting of news occupied the better part of the remainder of that year. Enough time was taken out, however, to help in the colorful Gilbert and Sullivan operetta Mikado CHAPTER THREE True, isn't it, that in school months simply fly by until the first thing you know you're a junior with only two years to go. So they now found them- selves. Most of them had begun, by this time, to realize that the age-old adage time and tide wait for no man was, after all a pretty good observation. Though letting few chances for fun slip through their fingers, the members of the class of '39 did buckle down a little harder on studies Cat least during the first few marking periodsj. This year a marked success was made of Patience, Its cast included several of the class of 1939. Nothing was too great or too small for their nimble brains. The football season over, they proceeded to climax the occasion with a dance. Like those other things in which they lent a hand, the Football Dance was extremely successful. Then, too, some of the players made honorable mention and All- State team. Then the Junior Prom! Elaborate were the decorations and joyous the occasion. All agreed that it was the best prom they could remember-and well it should have been. To have seen some of the boys balancing on the top of a shaking stepladder, reaching up to grasp the lights. just for the purpose of dimming them with blue paper, was a spectacle in itself. But the most won- derful thing of all was Gordon MacAdams' crystal ball which hung from the center of the hall. From its top to the four walls of the gym was hung a ceiling of blue crepe. Shining from advantageous points about the hall were spot- lights designed to refiect multi-colored lights from the turning ball. Did we say turning? It turned but a dozen times or more and stopped for the rest of the evening. Not so the fun, however-for that continued long after the ball stood still and even into the following morning, for some. The music festival at Nashua was quite an event. The band, resplendent in its new uniforms, did exceedingly well, to say nothing of the chorus and orchestra. CHAPTER FOUR W'ith three well spent years to support their records, they tried to live, for the most part, on their past. Days passed quickly. American History wasn't the only class in which serials failed to appear on the specified date. Well into that year, a Student Council was proposed. Officers were elected and a few bits of work were done. Perhaps the best thing about the Student Council was the chance it offered for discussions. There were many lively ones.

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THE RED AND BLACK 13 C0lJlD BE It had been many years since I had taken leave of Stevens High School back in 1939. The pleasant memories of our class were still very clear in my mind and I had more than often wondered what time and the elemelnts had done for some of the K' '39ers . It was late afternoon, and as I walked along amid the shade of a dense wood, these same thoughts of my former school days once more occupied my mind. At the sight of a coarse-looking witch. who had appeared from behind a tree, I started to turn back. She asked me to follow her, and as her voice sounded somewhat imperative, I decided to obey. The cave into which I was led was effectively decorated with heavily drooping cobwebs and the walls of the same were fairly seething with undesirable insects. In the center of the cavern was a big black cauldron over which stood two shrivelled-up, glassy- eyed, wrinkled old hags who seemed to be stodging up a heterogeneous con- coction of ingredients, while repeating words which somehow were vaguely familiar to me. Double, double toil and trouble, Fire burn and cauldron bubble, Fillet of a fenny snake, In the cauldron broil and bakeg Eye of newt, and toe of frog, VVool of bat, and tongue of dogg Adder's fork, and blind worm's sting, Lizard's leg, and howlet's wing, For a charm of powerful trouble, Like a hell-broth boil and bubble. Double, double toil and trouble, Fire burn and cauldron bubble. Simultaneously with my desire to get out of this place while the getting was good, came the thought that these delightful old hags might be able to inform me as to the whats and whereabouts of the class of 1939. When I asked if this were possible, they only nodded and pointed to the kettle. just as I looked into the cauldron, a terrific explosion took place and the next thing I knew I was standing face to face with a huge red: devil, or more respectfully put-Mephistopheles-who, in happier days had been Harry Dansereau. I shall never forget the terrible aspect of the monster, and I admit that I was a bit weak in the knees when he all too cordially invited me to accompany him to the underworld. The entrance to this subterranean region was occupied with a host of figures who had evidently failed to keep body and soul together and stood gazing into space with A Far Away Look in Their Eyes. Pointing to one of the groups I said, Who are those people and why are they here? These, the devil answered, are some of your classmates who never recovered from the shock of graduating and have been sent here afflicted with