Wellesley High School - Wellesleyan Yearbook (Wellesley, MA)

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THE WELLESLEYAN 1935 with Ruth Smythe, Francis Kilduff, Ruth Matthews, John Doherty, Kaspar Pilibosian among the actors; the second, ‘Clarence ' with Allan Stevenson, Dick Monahon, Valice Foeley, Edmund Rice, Ruth Matthews, Christine Hunter, and Virginia Brady. I see a great deal of entertain¬ ment : One evening with a magician and a dance; another, with ama¬ teurs from all sections of the country and Paul Monahan officiating. Another night, the gentlemen-of-the-guard played basketball with the ladies-in-waiting and the latter, with the aid of boxing gloves, won 9—8. Several of the male members of the audience shifted uneasily as if stirred by unpleasant memories. “The floor of the hall is now being cleared so that the athletes of the kingdom may be presented. Among them I recognize Joe Tartari, Charles Mantovani, Stuart Lowell, Rufus Ferioli, Whitey Nelson, Louis Villa, Alfie Juliani, Bob Austin, Dorothy Garland, Barbara Wheeler, Betty Cunniff, Ruth Smythe, Christine Hunter, Katherine Grant, Dorothy Hatch, and Irene Carpenter. The women in this court are very proud of a banner they won from others of the realm, and the men are still boasting about their victory over a certain kingdom called Needham. It is leaving me!” he tried to sound disappointed. “All is getting hazy and the people in the hall are filing out slowly in two long lines. Alas! There is no more.” Mopping his perspiring brow, the crystal gazer retired amid applause. “I enjoyed that,” said one rotund soul. “I didn ' t have to do a thing but listen and no one else had to do any work.” “If we ' d had a class history in our Year Book, we could have asked some one to read it and would have saved the expense,” added a disa¬ greeable looking woman. “But,” argued a forlorn and care-worn creature, “did you ever try to write a class history?” DEBORAH CAMPBELL, scribe GERTRUDE JOHNSEN RUTH MATTHEWS Page Thirty-One

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THE WELLESLEYAN 1935 “It will be ten dollars more,” he said dolefully. ‘Til pay for it,” offered a prosperous-looking business man. Try¬ ing not to appear too relieved, the seer looked again into the crystal. After performing the prescribed ritual, he went on. “This time it is a boat, and the hard working crew is the junior class. The officers in charge are Dick Monahon, Rufus Ferioli, Margaret Jackson, and Deborah Campbell. Some of the more vigorous of the crew, who are doing all the hard work, are: Charles Mantovani, Joe Tartari, Stuart Lowell, Billy Weinz, Rufus Ferioli, Whitey Nelson, Louis Villa, Alfie Juliani, Bob Austin, Barbara Wheeler, Dorothy Garland, Katherine Grant, Betty Cunniff, Christine Hunter, Dorothy Hatch, and Irene Carpenter. They all seem to be very energetic and businesslike. I believe the captain tried to give them a party but it was unsuccessful. There is a very unfriendly feeling among the crew toward two rival vessels, the ‘Natick and the ‘Needham whom the ‘Wellesley ' beat in competition ' He was interrupted momentarily as everyone turned and glared at a stranger at the back of the room who was wearing a worn and faded sweater with the word “Needham” in tattered letters on the front. Needless to say, the stranger left in a hurry. At last peace was restored. “It seems to be a well-educated crew. Bob Austin, Phyllis Hoyt, Ruth Matthews, Anastasia Wilson, Valice Foeley, and Paul McCourt are chanting strains from the ‘Mikado. ' Indeed, Christine Hunter and Anastasia Wilson won prizes for their efforts to increase their historical knowledge. The passengers on this boat were quite surprised at the performance the crew gave for their entertainment. It was ‘Evening Clothes ' , with Ruth Matthews, Anastasia Wilson, Edmund Rice, Bill Price, Dick Monahon, Paul Monahan, and Valice Foeley in the cast. There doesn ' t seem to be much of interest left. The ship is nearing the port and the worthiest of the groups who have been fittingly honored are Dick Monahon, Rufus Ferioli, Christine Hunter, Harold MacMahon, Anastasia Wilson, and Ruth Matthews. The harbor is in sight, and the boat is skimming . . . skimming .... the crystal is black!” The seer ' s tones were hollow, probably because he had been talking for so long, but the effect was certainly realistic. “We ' ve got to hear about the senior year,” complained a woman in the front row. It ' s the most important of all!” Then as no one was anxious to pay ten dollars, a hat was passed. After much fumbling and disturbance, ten dollars and thirteen cents was collected. The crystal gazer, almost too briskly, returned to the crystal. “I see before me a large and beautifully decorated hall in a palace. On a raised platform at one end are seated the members of the Royal Family, Rufus Ferioli, Christine Hunter, Bill Boyd, and Betty Cunniff. At their left are subjects who have been specially honored: Among them are Gloria Maulsby, Gertrude Johnsen, Dorothea Hogan, Deborah Campbell, John Doherty, John Randall, Lillian Westergren and also those who have been twice honored: Christine Hunter, Dick Monahon, Ruth Matthews, and Harold MacMahon. Two plays have just been presented by the royal entertainers. The first was ‘Grandfather ' s Chair ' Page Thirty

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THE WELLESLEYAN 1935 CLASS PROPHECY ’35 “Oh where, oh where, has my little Elmer g one?” I wailed. Overcome by my loss, I took up the daily journal hoping to find some mention of my curly haired and brown eyed darling. For a moment my grief was forgotten in a startling discovery. The name of the editor was familiar. Where had I heard that name before—Owen Hillberg— Hillberg—mmm—why, of course, he was that charming, friendly soul of my high school days who delighted in pushing defenceless little girls against walls and maliciously pulling their hair in classrooms. All thoughts of Owen were banished by an advertisement which declared in bold type that the “Can’t Fool Us” agency would guarantee the return of lost relatives and friends. In other words it was a bureau of missing persons. Just the place to find a reliable detective to discover the location of my idol. With renewed hope I made my way to the address given. A big, rough looking uniformed officer, wearing the stripes of a lieutenant, answered my knock. As the “boss” was busy, the lieutenant offered me a chair and before I knew it I was pouring out my tale of woe into his sympathetic ear. As I finished, my listener said, “Say, ma’am, haven’t I seen you before, some place?” Then he hastily amended his question with the suggestion that, perhaps. I was a Wellesley High graduate. With my affirmative answer he declared that he was Francis Kilduff, “Curly” to his pals. Now I remembered the great Kilduff of football fame. At this point the buzzer announced that the “boss” awaited me. “And wait until you see who he is,” Francis whispered as I passed him. Prepared to meet anything, I went- in to face the “boss.” All that I could see at first was two fairly sizable feet stretched out on a desk. At my entrance the feet were quickly placed on the floor and up sprang boss Tartari with that inevitable pipe of his. He declared that it was the same pipe he had had his picture taken with way back in ’35. (Nobody would forget that photograph in a hurry.) My own business completely forgotten as a result of so many discoveries, we sat down to recall old times. Always one of the well dressed boys in the class of ’35, he now looked even better. My comment on how well he looked brought forth the information that Zatz, that tailor of tailors, kept his clothes in A-l condition. (We both remembered seeing Earl racing up and down Washington Street on business.) When I inquired into the nature of his work, Joe volunteered much of interest. “Do you know,” he said, “one of my most difficult ca.ses is keeping track of Betty Drake for her parents. Only last week I answered their plea by locating her in Bagirmi, Africa, trying to discover an indelible lipstick. Period¬ ically it is my duty to seek out Charlie Abraham in his hermitage in the Blue Hills and bring him back to civilization. Charlie insists that solitude is the way to wisdom. And do you know. Bill Price”—at this moment a terrific din is heard outside the office door. Staccato masculine and feminine shouts fairly deafen us. Then, all of a sudden, the noise ceased as abruptly as it began. Bewildered I turned to Joe. With a sigh as if he was glad that it was over and yet acting as though he were accustomed to it, he explained, “That outburst you just listened to came from four persons, two males and two females. Remember Winchell? Well, one of the members of the fair sex is more deadly than that keyhole artist ever could be. She runs the “Snooper” column in Hillberg’s paper. What she doesn’t find out nobody can. The name is Deborah Campbell. Debby and Virginia Brady, the other woman in the feud (Brady runs the linguistic column in the same paper) have been arguing over the position of their respective columns in the index for so long that now neither column is mentioned. The male part of the battle rages between two more members of the staff, cartoonist Dick Monahon and Russell RoSe. Dick says that his “Can We Forget” page of cartoons is far superior to Rose’s comic section on “You, Me, and the Guy Next Door.” Certain facial contortions by Joe revealed very plainly his feelings on the subject. Incidentally, I later learned that Bill Price was driving the wagon that delivered Hillberg’S publications. Now it was my turn to talk, and tearfully I poured out my story of how much I missed my Elmer and wished I could find him. Joe assured me that he had never lost a case yet. First we visited the county jail where Chief Angelo Di Giandomenico informed us no one by the name of Elmer had been “hauled in.” Seeing that my spirits were extremely low, Joe suggested a walk in the park. He promised to get to work immediately and call me as soon as anything developed. A department store which I passed on my way to the park suggested that all ladies, in order to look “their best,” should visit Mile. Bernice Beale’s beauty salon or call her secretary, Page Thirty-Two