Weymouth High School - Campus / Reflector Yearbook (Weymouth, MA)

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8 WEYMOUTH HIGH SCHOOL protruding lever. Buddy gave the propeller a vigorous turn. Nothing happened. ' ' Contact, ' ' he yelled and turned the wheel again. The engine sputtered into life with a wheezy groan. Buddy dashed around and climbed into the seat beside Margy. It was a tight squeeze, but the excited children did not mind. A sudden yell from Pa ' s shack attracted their attention. Three men dressed in heavy overcoats came running toward the plane. Buddy cast one look at the strangers and pressed the nearest button. The plane bumped along the uneven ground with rising speed as he continued to press the starter. ' ' Steer it into the road, ' ' gasped the white faced Margy, as she frantically clutched her companion. The plane lurched from side to side, and as Buddy complied with Margy ' s command, it turned almost on its side. The men were still coming. Buddy could hear them shouting curses and threats after the moving plane. With a mighty effort, he righted the wings and got the wheels into the ruts of the ro?d. A young man standing on the postoffice platform was the first to discover the distant approaching cloud of dust. His cry brought a gentleman in the uniform of a mounted police to the door. Together they ran out to meet the now distinguishable plane. Clutching at the wings, they were dragged along several yards before they could bring it to a stand- still. Two white and frightened faces ap- peared above the rim of the seat. My word! exploded Major Litchfield, as he stopped the engine. Buddy and Margy were carefully helped from their cramped position and taken into the nearest house. Major Litchfield and his assistant questioned them carefully, and upon hearing Buddy ' s description of the three men, sent his assistant with help to his friend Stamford. They found Pa and the young pilot tied fast to the heavy table in the kitchen of the shack. A heavy blow had ren- dered young Stamford unconscious, and Pa was cussing like a trooper when help arrived. Stainford was again revived and his first words were — The mail, don ' t let them get the plane. That ' s all right, answered Major Litch- field, entering the door, ' ' two of the pluckiest kids that were ever born brought it in 0. K. Thank God, whispered the pilot, and sank back again to the floor. E. EowUnd ' 30. The Climber Nutsy Clutts was born in Kalamazoo, Al- aska. He was born on the side of an ice- berg, and so had to climb down to reach the ground. Thereafter he devoted his life to climbing. At the age of two he climbed the highest tree in Palm Beach, much to the astonish- ment of a happy crowd of flying fish that were playing leap frog below. Age eight found him climbing the Woolworth Build- ing one-handed with three trillion amazed spectators looking on. At fifteen Nut could walk up a flagpole. Papa Clutts said, He will become the world ' s greatest and most famous Mountain Climber. He will, you know, answered Mamma with a giggle. After a while Nutsy grew r up. He was arrested and given a life sentence for porch climbing and second story work. Thus ended the noble attempts at renown by Nutsy M. Clutts. Warner ' 31. Difficulties When called upon, a play to write, What are you to do, If, after pondering all the night, Not one idea will come to you? You sit, with chin in palm of hand, To think the matter through ; Ideas may come, a while to stay. Then go — are gone forever ; Will not some person please delay, To help in my endeavor? Vera Fogelholm ' 30.

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MARCH REFLECTOR 7 Buddy ' s Ride To the inhabitants of the little village of Bloomsville, Arizona, the airplane was still a source of wonder and delight. The entire neighborhood would turn out to witness the unusual passing of one of these creatures. Of course this was before airplanes were much in use, as I said before. So when Pa At- wood came puffing into the local postoffice one morning and declared he had seen one of them ' ' air-cars in his wheat field, he was met with unbelieving stares. ' ' Come now, Pa, ' ' laughingly answered one daring youngster, you know darn well no machine would land here. Pa insisted that his eyes had not deceived him, so the crowd decided to find out for themselves. They quickly piled into Pa ' s dilapidated Ford and started for his farm. The car bumped along over the uneven ruts, sending its occupants in a huddled heap, first to one side then to the other. Almost there, yelled Pa excitedly above the terrific noise of the engine. I — I should t — think we ought, gasped Neilson the postoffice keeper, as he vainly clutched the side of the car for support. The contrivance drew up before Pa ' s shack and the group stumbled to their feet. They were soon headed for the place where Pa said that he had seen the plane. Now, the men had not once given a thought to its pilot, until they saw the figure of a young man half pro- truding from a wing of the fallen plane. They hastened to the plane and carefully drew the body from the sagging wing. The young man was not seriously hurt, and after a glass of brandy had been forced between his parched lips, he sat up and looked about him. You fell into my wheat field, Pa replied to the injured man ' s questioning gaze. Yes, I remember, Dan Stamford replied dazedly, the stick refused to work. To go back to the scene in the postoffice. Buddy Watson, the youngster who had dared to question Pa ' s eyesight, had not waited to witness the departure of the men to Pa ' s farm. Climbing on to the back of his beloved pony, he rode quickly to a little, white cottage at the end of the street and called out in a cautious voice. ' ' Hey, Margy, want to go for a ride ? ' ' A little girl of ten appeared from around the corner of the house and ran out to where Buddy was impatiently waiting. After a whispered conversation, Margy climbed up in front of Bud and they set off in the direction the excit ed men had taken. The two children watched the men carry the injured pilot into the house. They glanced toward the spot where the engine lay. Already the news had spread throughout the village, until it seemed that everyone had turned out for the event. Gee, Buddy, can we really go for a ride? whispered Margy eagerly. Her companion glanced about him. Sure, why not, he returned, they ' ll leave the plane where it is and tomorrow morning no one ' 11 be around. Of course we won ' t be able to fly, but we can have lots of fun in it, he added. Buddy met Margy the following morning by the little picket fence, and the two young- sters set off across the pastures for Pa ' s farm. Everything was still, and only the faintest pink creeping above the horizon proclaimed another day. The children reached the plane without mishap, and under Buddy ' s careful directions, Margy climbed into the front seat. Fie then got in himself and made a pretext at starting the engine. The machine had been placed in position the night before, and Buddy, who had some knowledge of the mechanism of planes, saw that it could be started if one could move the propeller. Say, Margy, he cried excitedly, I am going to get the thing going. ' ' Huh — what? asked Margy, standing up in the seat, Mother wouldn ' t want me to go riding like that, she added doubtfully. She won ' t know anything about it, Buddy returned shortly, and began to place heavy blocks of wood in front of the wheels. All ready? called down Margy. Buddy glanced helplessly about. What would one do in a case like this ? Hey, Margy, you get into the other seat, and when I yell, take hold of this stick. Like this. He climbed up and took hold of the

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MARCH REFLECTOR 9 Is Our Past Ahead of Us? A short time ago I visited a friend who is eminent in the world of scientific research. Several other worthy scientists were present and they were engaged in a spirited discus- sion on evolution, when I arrived. Immediate- ly following my introduction, a short, scrawny person spoke up — apparently continuing their talk. He was a strange appearing creature with long loose limbs shabbily enclosed in a shapeless checked suit of unusually vivid hues. His face was thin and emaciated to an almost inconceivable extent. He said in a high, excitable voice. In re- gard to that very thing, I believe I can prove the present theory of evolution to be entirely wrong, that it has no basis of facts. As some of you know, I have been working for weeks on this subject and I have finally accumulated sufficient proof to make my theory practicable. It is, in its purest essence as follows : con- trary to the modern theory that the evolution of man started after the ice age, an intensely developed civilization existed prior to this Pleistocene age. It was in all probability, fully a thousand years in advance of our own civilization. Last night I experienced a very peculiar mirage. Whether it was a dream, or but the r amblings of an overworked brain I cannot say. It seemed as though I was making a trip through one of the large cities of that world. The trip started at the base of an immense skyscraper, the top of which seemed lost in the sky. My guide led the way inside and we walked across a huge lobby to an elevator. After getting into this he pushed a pro- tuberance ; in about three seconds we stopped and left the ear. It was the 117th floor. In some unknown manner the power of force and inertia had been minimized and counteracted, for I had had no sensation while rising and had felt no bump when we stopped ; yet there most certainly must have been one. The guide opened a door and showed me into the strangest room I have ever had the privilege of seeing. It was a large room fur- nished in an ultra-modern style. The ceiling had small purplish bulbs transfixed in it at various places which gave forth a strange subdued ray. On the end walls were huge control boards covered with innumerable buttons. In the very center of the room an exceed- ingly tall, stern appearing man was seated before a massive desk. He motioned us to seat ourselves; then he said, To you, Jonas Amesbury, I extend the greetings of this world— the world of 12345 A. B. Before I could reply, he continued: Ere you inspect our city let me try to explain a little about it. Each of the four huge divi- sions of our existence — necessities, transporta- tion, luxuries, and expansion, is in charge of one person, who is under the supervision of a corporation which sees that all of the requisites of that division are produced. There are minor companies under each of these. Of course competition is unknown. ' ' Let us look at our transportation division. There is a corporation that controls the entire problem, under which there are numerous companies, such as the taxi company, ' ray car ' company, the water travel company, and the party service car company. Under each of these are the various building companies. Our total agricultural activity (which is of a synthetic nature) is controlled by a single corporation as is everything else. As a further explanation of our transportation system I will call a taxi — you will need one for your exploration. He crossed the room to one of the control boards and pressed a button over which was the word TRANSPORTATION. In a sec- ond a light showed in a disk at the top. Into a peculiar instrument, not unlike one of our telephones, he said, A two man taxi. Then the light disappeared. We have a few moments while we await your taxi. Is there anything you especially desire to know? I replied : Yes, there are quite a few ; but please tell me why ever since I entered this room I have felt strangely invigorated. What is that a result of? ' ' You see the bulbs in the ceiling ? It is be- cause of them. They furnish us not only with light, but with ventilation, oxygen, and with