Waltham High School - Mirror Yearbook (Waltham, MA)

Page 13 text:

X THE MIRROR . 99 ing. He even started that little excursion into the Orpheum in a fine manner, but alas, it ended disastrously. His better half, formerly Helen Smith, stood in the kitchen as I passed by, preparing dinner. From the number ot cooking utensils upon the stove, I came to the conclusion that Starr could handle a fork at the table as well as a hay fork in the fields. My love for animals now prompted me to step inside the dairy and see the cows. Here I found Mary Wellman and Rosamond Jacobs, who were milk-maids. Upon noticing a well- built sweet little calf, I asked what her name was. Her name's Anna, answered Mary. Well, Anna, I said, you are almost pret- ty enough to kiss. How dare you! cried a woman of whose presence behind the calf I had not been aware, If you say that again, I'll handle you rough or my name's not Anna Beamanff This meant exit for me and so I went in the general direction of the nearest highway. Be- fore going far, I overtook a Uknight of the road,,' who was in a worse condition than my- self. The poor gentleman of leisure was none other than Frank Hitchcock. As Frank and I were in the same plight, we agreed to join forces for the rest of the day. After reaching the nearest highway, we tried to stop Cecil Smart, who was driving by in a rickety old bakery wagon, but Cecil, fearing a wholesale raid, kept right on going. Just then we heard the wild tooting of a horn which sounded almost as bad as the noise the High School buglers used to make. Soon a huge fire truck tore around a distant bend like a crowd of hungry scholars on their way to the lunch room at recess. Sitting in the driver's seat, with one hand on the wheel, was Percy Harrel, while George Powers and Ralph Tal-- bot, with their legs darting skyward each time the truck hit an uneven spot, were hanging on ,to the rear with death-like grips. Here, these fellows were making records for punc- tuality in reaching fires, but when they attend- ed school, they never came on time to any- thing but class socials. The next place of interest to attract my at tention was a large building which stood on the side of a hill. Frank told me this was the Old Maids' Home, and that it was inhabit- ed by all the unfortunate women who did not succeed in catching husbands. As both Hitch- cock and I were curious, we entered the place s to look it over. The first person we came across was a disappointed looking woman, named Aleva Libby. On reaching the rear of the building, where several of the unfortunates were playing tennis, I perceived a dainty lit- tle woman who once had a vast number of admirers. When she attended High School they even used to come after her in automo- biles. As the tears streamed down my face, I heard Frank sigh as if his heart would break, Poor Norma Steelef, Among the other ladies present, I also saw Vivian Morse, Ruth Mott, and Beatrice Chapin. Say, Frank! I exclaimed, 'fI know just the man for these women to get after. Who's that? questioned Hitchcock. 'LWhy, who else, I replied, but Mr. Ar- thur Burke of Room ZZ. Just then Dwinell, the gardener, approach- ed. It did not surprise me to find Clarence here, for Dwinell used to flutter about women like a moth around an arc light. Leave immediately, or I'll sick Jerry, the dog, on you, he thundered in that deep bass voice which used to sound so stately and com- manding when he gave the order to march, during military drill, by yelling, Hashl Believing he would do as he threatened, Frank and I left the place much quicker than we came in. About a mile farther on, we walked into a Scotch Picnic. Here we found Alexander Stewart, lVIarion Mackenzie, and Anna Stewart. Alexander was blowing a bag- pipe, which sounded like the screeches which used to come from Harry Kniznick whenever he sat on a row of thumbtacks. The event was made more entertaining by Eddie Larkin, the great woman impersonator. It was now that one of the most shameful incidents of my life occurred. Two policewom- en, Jeannette Haldy and Marjorie Stone, drove up in a patrol wagon and arrested me. Is this the man? Jeannette asked of Swal-- low, who had approached unseen behind her. Yes, faltered Babe, he chased me all the way to the city. Well, he does look dangerous, was Mar- jorieis comment, as she and Jeannette threw me into the wagon. When my journey was over, I found myself within the walls of the State School for Feeble Minded, in Waverley. Chauncey Perry, who had charge of the in- stitution, after examining me, said: This man might be a trifle foolish but as far as I can see

Page 12 text:

98 THE MIRROR CLASS PRO PH ECY ERIC AXEL LINDBERG , One dark foggy morning in the year of 1926, while I Was crossing upper Main street, a huge banana-laden truck, driven by Frank Gavolio, knocked me down with terrific force. After the first shock of pain had passed away, I felt a sensation that was by no means un- pleasant. A thrill, joyous beyond description, raced through my veins, and as all earthly ob- jects faded away, I sank into a sleep more rest- ful than that of a child in its mother's arms. When I came out of this trance, I found myself in a deep, dark cavern near the summit of Prospect Hill. Upon feeling of my face, I discovered that my beard was as long as Mr. Wardls English assignments. In addition to this, a horrible craving for food and water almost drove me mad. While praying on my knees for a blueberry or a blackberry with which to satisfy my hunger, I was suddenly startled by the ap- pearance of a richly dressed woman, accom- panied by two attendants. Oh, Lord! I cried, upon recognizing the lady, lVIy prayer was for a blueberry, not an Alice Berry. Goodness me I exclaimed Alice, turning to her maids, who were Lavina Rayner and Ter- esa Ridlon, Let's hurry away from this mad- manfl Not being discouraged by the ill success of my first appeal, I now began a long prayer for water, in which I asked for no more than one wee swallow. Just then a small middle aged man, followed by a butler, dressed in fine liv- ery, passed by. Oh, Lord! I ejaculated again in anguish, I wished for a swallow of Water, not a Her- bert Swallowf, Before I had finished saying these words, Babe was on his way to the city, actually believing himself pursued by a lunatic. The butler, who was none other than Dana Whit- ing, became so absent-minded, that he repeat- ed that tremendously long speech of eighteen words, which he had so eloquently thundered forth while taking the part of a servant in Charley's Auntf, After Dana also had disappeared, I remem- bered the old proverb, Providence helps those who help themselves, which used to aid so many of the less brilliant students to pass in their exams. Inspired by this maxim, I de- scended the hill to Annabel Grigg's farm, where I hoped to obtain both food and drink. Not daring to appear before ladies in my pres- ent ragged condition, I was just about to re- sort to the use of a barrel, which had on it the label of the great Isaacson and Winterhalter Flour Mills, when, in a nearby field I per- ceived Henry Atwood and Earl Baker. Upon noticing my scarcity of clothes, these two indolent men offered to give me some of their thrown off garments if I would do a cer- tain amount of work. After completing the task assigned to me, I received a short broad coat from Earl and a pair of very long trous- ers from Henry. Thus attired I believed my- self to be almost as laugh-provoking as Frank Gavolio at the Senior Character Party. From Henry I now learned that the pres- ent year was 1936. This news lead me to be- lieve that I had been put to sleep for ten years by Gavolio's banana truck. Where I had been and what I had been doing during these yeare was beyond the scope of my imagination. At Annabel's house I received from Emily Alcock, the cook, as much food as I needed. She also informed me that the members of the Ladies' Afternoon Tea Club were in the house planning an entertainment which was to be given that evening in one of the down town theatres. While I was leaving Emily the Tea Club members began to file out of the front door and enter their automobiles. Among them I perceived Elizabeth Emery, Marguerite Watts and Ethel Eurbush. Shaking my head sadly, I took a short cut for the city across a nearby farm. The snoring of a seedy countryman, who lay sleeping next to a stonewall, now attracted by attention. His honest open face reminded me greatly of John Burke. In another section of the same farm, I stopped to watch Hub Starr start a pair of balky horses. This he did with great ease for Herbert always could start things go-

Page 14 text:

100 THE MIRROR hels not mad. If you want to see a real insane person step into the next room. YVe entered the room and here we found lVIyron Allen, who also was watching the lunatic. Myron told me that he was a teacher of geometryg I did not doubt his statement, for he showed great promise in this subject even while in High School. After Jeannette and lwarjorie had seen the difference between a real insane person and myself, they still acted stubbornly and took me with them to the court house. Upon reaching the jail, which had been of little use after July I, 1919, I found Captain Clifford Estes in charge. He was lenient with me and let me off easy. As I left the place I passed three more policewomen who were Viola Garfield, lwerle Heinstrom and Frances lXIarshall. I now confidently expected my troubles to be over, but I was still to receive a greater shock. Upon entering IXIain street, I saw a new City Hall. I later learned that it was designed by Bertram VVarren and built by the Emery Construction Company. My attention was soon attracted by a large crowd which had gathered on the common around a high platform, upon which stood a very small man. Before long the mob began to cry, Burn 'im, burn 'im, burn 'im. Chl I cried, Do they really intend to burn him ? No, no, laughed a lady, whom I rec- ognized as Evelyn Pineo, owner of a nearby candy store, these folks are just giving three cheers for 'Eddie' Burnham, the new city man- ager. ' lVIy joy upon hearing this good news was soon changed to horror, for Dorothy Greeley and Ethel Spencer now sang a duet while IVillis Bean's orchestra played the accompan- iment, in honor of the occasion. The noise which they produced sounded a great deal like the technical division during a study period. As I was in great need of money, I dropped into a bank where ten years before I had an account. The president of this insti- tution was Frank Gavolio, who had made his fortune in the banana business, while Edward Curry, his right hand man, was cashier. Gen- evieve Bucher and Elsie Copeland were also employed here. Immediately after obtaining some money, I ran into a dry-goods store, where I was waited on by Ralph Dougherty, the manager, person- ally. He had some trouble in finding a suit that would suit, and almost went into a fit try- ing to get a hat to fit, but after half an hour of hard work he finally found what I wanted. Upon leaving Ralph, I felt as strange and foolish in my new clothes as Alexander Stew- art when he wore a derby hat to school for the first time. Marjorie Warren's shoe store was the next place to receive my patronage and here I found the salesman to be Harry Kniznick. He sold me a pair of shoes which I knew were poor stock, but Harry, who could talk even when he had nothing to say, caused me to take what he gave me in order to escape suffoca- iton. Before leaving the store, I conversed with Archer Rogers, who was a special policeman, and his wife, formerly Louise VVolfe. They informed me that William Morgan and Ira Orr were collectors for the city. At first I thought Ira and Hearn collected money, but I later learned that it was ashes. After taking leave of Archer and his pretty wife, I breezed into Donald Drury's barber shop. Among the women barbers employed by him were Dorothy Bills, Bertha Carney, and Thelma Fornes. His wife, once known as Esther Thompson, sat in the rear of the shop at a manicuring table. From the sharp words that passed between the pair, I came to the conclusion that, though Donald owned the place, he was far from being boss. He later told me that married life was not what it was cracked up to be. Just as Dorothy finished combing my hair fwhich was easily done as I was rather baldj Bertha cut the man in her chair. Oh! cried the victim, you've killed me. I'm done! I'm done! VVhy, so you are, I exclaimed, recogniz- ing Francis Dunn, You're Dunn, but I'm glad, to tell you that you're not finished. Let's leave this place while alivef' moaned Francis. To this I readily agreed. As Dunn's cut was rather deep, we set out for the nearest doctor. While passing down Moody street, we came upon a long line of men standing in front of an office building. Some were old and some were young, but they all seemed anxious to get somewhere. We could not understand this until we read the sign over the door into which the line van- ished. It read: Jessie Reed, Piano Teacher. Cf course that explained everything, for Jes-