Waltham High School - Mirror Yearbook (Waltham, MA)

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is TUHE MIRROR left ear reposed one fountain pen, three pencils, and one eraser. I guessed that being Class Historian had gone to the lad's head, and that he had taken up history-writing as a profession. At the time he was en- gaged in writing a complete history of the thriving municipality of Au- burndale. Albert Spessozfti, as would be ex- pected, was a business man. His bald head, bandy legs, general corpu- lence and apparent opulence were not to be mistaken. Meet the foun- der of the Horne for Decrepit Ofhce Girls-the lad who can always be depended upon for a dinner, a lunch- eon, a show, a party, a dance-any- thing. Reliable Al! And Carolyn Gibbs! ought to keep this about Cal to my- self, but it's my duty to expose her. All you classmates know what hopes we had for her-a chorus girl, keeper of a night club, a cabaret dancer- but no, I'm sorry to say, Cal has surprised and even disappointed many of us. The young lady who was no longer so young sat sedately in one corner, quietly working an embroidery design on a pair of green silk Suspenders. 'Tis a hard cross for the Class to bear, but bear it we must. Amy Dunaler was the same way. She sat with Carolyn knitting a pair of woolen wristers for the gallant lads who are working so tirelessly and ceaselessly catching young pa- pooses in the distant frozen North. It's people like Amy that keep them working even in the face of constant danger and hardship. Everywhere one special outfit dom- inated: Brown leather helmets, jack- ets of the same material, riding breeches and leather puttes-the aviator's warm attire. Lindberghs were everywhere. The first I noticed was George Keane whose lifelong I really ambition had been realized. Francis Houston, John Thomas, PVilliam Milligan and Alalo Minotti-daunt- less bird-men, everyone. I noticed that the leather-clad eagles were the more popular with the-er-weaker sex. No wonder the air is getting so traf- fic-congested. Never mind, ladies, you can't walk back from an aeroplane ride. . Frea' Biehforaf wore the duster and absorbed air of a chemist. Under the careful coaching of an esteemed member of the faculty,-Fred had at- tained the high position of head chemist in the bean department in Heinz,s establishment. It is Fred who is responsible for the high grade beans we are nowpgetting. Marjorie Yezften and Irene Ulbham wore the costumes of princesses or queens or some other rank of nobil- ity-maybe duchesses or countesses. Both young ladies had married young and well, and were now happy living on their estates in By Gravia or Lapvia or some such foreign land. Another popular uniform, besides the Lindbergh one was the trim blue of the West Point cadet. Four of our classmates, Tony Caminiti, George LaRosee, Arthur Holmes, and Thomas Connerney, proudly strutted about, peacock fashion, as though asking those assembled to pause amid the revelry and admire their fine feathers. An everlasting honor to his class is each of the, val- iant chaps. As in all functions of this nature, policeipatronage, or, in this case, matronage, was customary. Two brawny damsels, tricked out in the darlingest of police uniforms-skirts, be-feathered, be-fruited, and be- flowered helmets, and button-up boots of the ankle-covering variety, super- vised festivities. In the north end of the hall, with arms akimbo and bright eyes roving, was Carmela

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THE MIRROR 17 innumerable euphoniously similar words. In another corner I ran across Charles Logan, Harold Diirhin, John Whalen, Harold Rines and Howard Marshall arguing vocifer- ously and heatedly over the day's stock market results. Stockbrokers, millionaires, these lads, true products of Waltham High. A long life to them also, and may Brass Door- knobs, Inc., reap for them much kale and lucre. A rather diminutive person clad in Boy Scout raiment and carrying a silvery trumpet, a scout knife, a length of clothes-line, and an emer- gency kit- walked nonchalantly thru' me without so much as a by-your- leave. Paul Ross -ofcourse, roving about in search of a good turn to -turn. An honor to his class is Paul. Never will his name be linked up with the unsavory. A long life and innumerable good-turn opportuni- ties to him l ' I honestly hate to tell this about Kathryn Jacobs, but I must. Kay was dressed simply-simply stun- ningly! Knowing Miss .Iacob7s one ambition, I at once knew that she was a real society lady. And this is the part I hate to tell-Kathryn was looking for a man! 'S a fact. Any eligible gentleman with sufhcient coins and bills and cheque books and bank accounts and automobiles and city houses and country houses and good looks and so on would satisfy Kathryn. I wondered if she would iind her soul mate at the Reunion. Ye Nabobs, beware l By this time Digf1eld's Dolly Girls had perspired their last drop of per- spiration, and had left the hall for a dip in the Charles. Came the next, and, incidentally and fortunately, the last act. Trapeze performers - Heaven smile upon 'eml First Jean Hughes swung daringly out over the heads of the audience, then back again to catch Ruth Peterson, then the two swung out, and back again, to catch Ethel Livermore. Over the pates Qmany of them baldy of the thrilled audience wavered the three, and back again, to pick up the fourth per- for.ner, Frances Daley. They caught her all right, but some where a cog slipped, and the quartette swung far over the audience-too far over the audience-and out thru' the open door into the Charles. A splash-a cry--two cries in fact-a sickened silence on the part of the audience- and Wes Laurin's Orchestra, with great presence of mind, struck up an alluring waltz, and the ill-fated four were forgotten. Once more I commenced my invis- ible promenading about the hall, in search of familiar faces. Lillian Smith, Bertha Berman, Re- becca Cushinshy, and Sarah Kron- garaf were wearing severe, tailored business suits of the female kick- pleated variety. You know the kind -mannish and all that. Business ladies they were, stenographers, sec- retaries, and what-not. The kind of positions where they either marry the bossls son or become corners in Eternal Triangle cases. A couple of our diamond lumin- aries who have since their high school days turned professional were there, wearing the striped regalia of their profession-James Harrigan, short- stop supreme of the Waverley Won- ders and Arthur Cojjfin, who chases flies for the Lincoln Town Team. Our alma mater has certainly turned out good stuff. One of the greatest surprises of my evening was when I ran across Victor Kjoss, be-spectacled and scholarly, morosely moping about the hall carrying a large leather-encased quarto under his arm. Over Vic's

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THE MIRROR 19 Giordano. Opposite her, at the southern extremity, was posted the ever-vigilant Charlotte Gannon. Get- ting full benefit of the eastern ex- posure was Alice DeCoste, chieftain- ess of the force. Under such pro- tection the land of the free and the home of the brave is safe from all harm. A pair of bookish-looking individ- uals, Margaret Maurer and Gladys Davis, had been slowly strolling about the hall all the evening, cir- cumnavigating it no less than ump- steen or bumpsteen times. They were deeply engrossed in the interest- ing, fascinating, exciting topic of whether banana oil was best when used as a liniment to massage the backs of books, or when used as a paste to make a reader stick to his subject. Alice Kennedy, who was, as well as were the above pair, a libra- rian, broke in and settled the ques- tion by stating that banana oil is most effective when heaved into the river and ordinary paste substituted instead. Harriet Cox was pestering the dancers by stopping the gyrating couples and asking them persuasive- ly if they wished to take out a few insurance policies. Long hours in aninsurance office had addled her head sadly. However, Harriet was the harmless type of lunatic, so she was permitted to mingle freely with her former classmates. And Nowell Goldberg! Poor Goldy, how he had deteriorated! By bits which I picked up here and there during the so newhat hectic evening, I learned that he was one of those beloved College Board Examiners- you know. His propagandun was that all questions begin- Express your opinion on the following :-- Tough on the correctors! ,cause an opinion's an opinion, say what you will. Hurray for Goldie! L nder one of the lights that illum- inated tae festive scene sat two-er- artists. Two be-s.nocked daubers, Jasan zlfleyer and Ruth Underhill sluatted before their easels doing their r-,orst-very worst-to depict the scene before them. They were liberaely smeared with paint, Susan's nose was a grassy shade of green, whi e R1th's proboscus had attained a pasty yel-ow hue. I know not whether Susan had, in some distract- ed moment, tried to scratch her head with her paint brush, but anyway, it certainly looked as though Susan's painting had gone to her head. A typical absent-minded professor was George Rosyhach. In his good right hand he carried a patched-up butterfly net, and in his left xx as an open book, which was held within two inches of the 'tip of his nose. This George was reading with ab- sorption, all the while wandering ai mess y about, bu.nping into dan- cers and spectators, absently mun- bling an excuse, and pro-nptly car- oming off towards another pair of dancers. Shades of Mr. Kimball! Another interesting example of how our classmates have deteriorat- ed: Two demure, severely-dressed young ladies were ambling arm-in- arn about the hall, talking in low undertones. Being interested, of course, I spirited myself after them, and perched me on the head of one of the pair, to listen in on their con- versation: 'L-and I says to the canni- bal chief, I says, says I- They were Missionaries! And saints above, below, and in between! The soul savers were Marjorie Hoskins and Dorothy Teele! I bet it's great fun being a cannibal. Now when the arrival of Ruth Kennedy made their duet a trio, I was not surprised. Ruth was cut out for a missionary. But when she com- menced a vigorous and well-executed