Waltham High School - Mirror Yearbook (Waltham, MA)

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THE MIRROR HORACE TAPPLY Class Prophet, 1928

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14 p THE MIRROR rus girls, which the trio undoubted- ly were. Three twenty-eighters, Paul TVinterlzalter, IValter Arnold, and Harold Leoison, altho' being nabobs of the highest order, followed the Lincoln trio about with hopeful dog- gedness. It's strange how badly some people want to spend money up- holstering the interiors of poor, un- dernourished ladies of the chorus. Allan Robertson was there, of course. The most prominent fea- tures of Allan's get up were: first, a huge, all-enveloping garrison belt, and, second, numerous horseshoe- shaped bruises. The Army, especial- ly the Cavalry branch, has ruined many more good men too. Norman Slaytorfs all-enveloping checkered kitchen apron was easily the brightest oasis in a desert of col- or. Besides the apron, Norm wore a patient hang-dog expression and a half-grown fuzzy mustache, in its earliest stages of growth. Leaning heavily upon this gentleman's good right arm was Louise Carney Slay- ton, which was as it should be. The fact that Louise bore a triumphant smile and a ready-to-wield rolling Din-well, that was not as it should be. However, I can imagine that the Slayton family is one of these ideal unions wherein both parties have really lived happily ever after. A long life and very few grocery bills to 'emi As a companion to Lloyd's monkey wrench outfit appeared a Stilson wrench regalia, amply filled with James Gannon, Waltham's premier plumber. If Jimmy forgets his tools as he used to forget his books-Y Esther Kyle and Eileen Haralyrnan really shouldn't have worn their cos- tumes at all-I mean they should have worn something else. Their costumes were dead give-aways. A cardboard bottle, large enough to cover the person from neck to knee- permitting, of course, an occasional turning of the head and unhampered genuflection-marked on the label with the skull and crossbones and a few x's. But really, I know some very respectable, home-loving, fam- ily-raising bootleggers and bootleg- geresses, and you couldn't ask for better people. Pauline Jolznson was there too. I imagine her profession was difficult to portray by the average costumer, so she just wore her mane long and mildly flowing, as is the style of all aspiring musicians. Deep circles un- der Pauline's eyes testified to the as- siduity with which she plied her trade. She'll be a violinist yetg wait and see. The hot-dog concession had been secured by Henry Zelinetsky, the Hot Dog King of America, who knows all about matters concerning edibles, if not digestibles. King Henry was do- ing a flourishing business, as the mustard streaks on the chins and whiskers of numerous classmates testified. ' His Lordship's wares tempted Er- nest W'right, who was dressed as a nationally-nay-internationally fa- mous knight of the rod and rail would be dressed. Ernie, as usual, was canvassing among his class- mates, bumming-I mean soliciting- dimes with which to purchase His Royal Highness's roll-frankfurt- and mustard combination. Jack Libby was attired as in em- inently successful pianist, organist, and socialist should be-4a scarlet cape, French beret, long, uncut hair, and passionate eyes fyou girls know the kindl. Yessir, Jack cut quite a figure. He played the organ in the Old something-or-other-in Boston. lVIy attention was attracted to the ornately decorated figure of a youth who appeared to the naked eye as having attained, and celebrated, say,

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16 THE MIRROR his eleventh or twelfth birthday. Alberzf Marsliall's costume consisted of several dozen dart-pierced hearts pinned haphazardly over his diminu- tive person. A breaker of hearts is Al. Ever since his High School days he has been the same way. Doctors and alienists entertain little hope for the lad. Poor All After a few warming-up dances, the master of ceremonies, David No- lan, lblaint Vitusls protege and ri- vall announced that a few novelty nsrnbers would ensue. In th: first number lVilliain Pep- per, dressed in the costume of a court jester and wearing a facial expres- sion sognewhat similar to Will Rogers came out, and executed a few dance steps CThey should have been executed ere thisj. He also rendered a few modern song hits, such as Darlin' Nellie Gray, The Cat Came Back, and other gems of con- temporary vintage. Then Willyum regaled his auditors with a brand new line of snappy jokes. l'Who,,' asked Billy of himself, 'fwas that lady you were with last night C? f'That lady, Pep replied serious- ly, that lady was no lady. That lady was my w-. A rush of classmates, the opening of a door, a loud splash, a gurgling, and Mr. Nolan announced the second act. Edward Fay and Carl Frederick- son, the Two True Blue Bluebirds , presented a-er-humorous dialogue. Carl and Eddie had been touring the country, it seems, and had garnered a whole mess--used advisedly-of snappy, sappy conundrums. These, they ventured to hope, would put the preceeding-er- comedian to shame, if in his present damp state he was capable of such sentiments. How do you know, queried Ed- die of Carl, 'cthat the moon is made of green cheese CZ Because, responded Carl prompt- ly, I'm a sea and I've been to sail'er. I mean I'm a sailor, and I've been to see. A tense silence settled over the audience. Then another rush, a few excited cries, two separate splashes- and the Charles had claimed its third victim. The next act was a revue. A bevy of Waltham girls under the appella- tion Digjield's Dolly Girls had just finished an extensive tour of the world. They had appeared and tripped the airy fantastic before such dignitaries as King George, Premier Mussolini, and an appreciative audi- ence at the world-famous sailors' dive, Moulin Rouge. They had consented to perform at the Reunion Dance because many of them were Class of Twenty-eighters. . Among their number I noticed Mil- dred Borden, Helen Cornett, Priscilla Marshall, Marie Lawson, and Mariel Brown. The solo parts were dele- gated to Constance Bolio, another twenty-eighter who will long be re- membered. Connie had shown her talent at an early and tender age. While Digfield's Dollies were per- spiringly imitating the light-footecl Saint Vitus, I wandered about the hall, searching for more familiar faces. I found, tucked snugly in one bad- ly illuminated corner, Joannci Bry- den and Joy .MacLean, both deep in the throes of composition. Joy was assiduously chewing the less import- ant end of her pencil, racking her be-muddled thinker for a word to rhyme with uvioletn. I couldn't help her any. Joanna, however, was writing rap- idly, to keep pace with her racing thoughts. A poetess without peer is Joanna. I wish them both a long life and vocabularies consisting of