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

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4 CCbrtBtmaB JSrflrrtor not take it. This speech was not expected by Lucy, who had not the slightest idea of not being in the play. So the rehearsals went on, Lucy becom- ing more and more disgusted with David, who entered in the second act as a long lost lover. To make matters worse, in the last scene David insisted on kissing her with a loud resounding smack. It is not strange that Lucy ' s interest in the production waned, un- til she was told that it was the test of an actress to put up with just such difficulties. The day before the play was to be put on Lucy, quite reconciled to her fate, was do- ing some last minute shopping. As Lucy stepped to cross the deserted street, a roadster whizzed around the corner, bearing down on her path. At the same instant, a dark figure darted acros the square. There was a squeak- ing of brakes and Lucy found herself sitting on the sidewalk; beside her leading man. Well! she exclaimed, Thanks. Mabel Plays Cupid Busy shop girls darted to and fro in the great Bennington department store. Huge throngs, reflecting the holiday spirit, filled the aisles. Outside, more people were crowded about trying vainly to get into the great store already filled to overflowing. By one of the windows stood a girl dressed in a dark brown dress and brown coat around the collar of which was a magnificent fur now wet from the fast falling snow. Her face was a pretty one, young but hard and cold, looking compared with the merry faces of the young people around her. She glanced up from her window-shopping to the jolly holiday faces surrounding her, and the blue eyes grew icier. An older woman stopped beside the girl and spoke to her. Helen Van Dyne! What are you looking at in that window ? There ' s nothing there that will bite. Don ' t forget that the Christmas party is tomorrow evening. Junior wants you to be sure and come. Hello, Mabel, I ' m awfully sorry, but I can ' t come to the party. You must know by now that a party of any sort can hold no attractions for me. So you just want every one to know that you are pining away over a fellow? Mabel sarcastically demanded. O! Helen, I ' m sorry that I said that, really I am. Any way ' ' Oh, that ' s all right, grinned David. You know, ' ' said Lucy, settling as comfort- ably as she could on the enow, ' ' I wish you would not make such a noise when you kiss people. ' ' 0. K. replied David, helping her up. ' ' May I walk home with you ? ' ' Not only did he walk home with her but they walked home the longest way. The next night all was excitement. David, much to the relief of the cast, behaved nobly during the last scene, and when the curtain was d rawn with Lucy exclaiming, Dear, I love you, the play was acclaimed a success by all. After the final bow David drew Lucy into the wing. Lucy, he said, ' You were great. You said that last speech as if you meant it. Maybe I did, you know, replied the Huh? Oh, golly! What a break! Myrtle Pray ' 31 (with Results ! ! !) Junior just longs to see you. Won ' t you please come? Poor Junior! Yes, I ' ll be there ' with bells on ' as Jack — Oh, dear ! You see, Mabel, ' ' she cried, ' ' I can ' t forget him ! Everything I do or say concerns him ! And to think that we were going to be married on Christmas Eve. There, there, poor child. I know every- thing will turn out all right. Jack told Jim that he was sailing the day after Christmas for a trip around the world. You won ' t have to see him for another year. ' ' Oh ! ' ' gasped Helen turning white, ' ' Our honeymoon trip. Then with a great effort she smiled at Mrs. Benson and said wearily, Have you finished your shopping yet, Mabel? On receiving a negative reply, she took the woman by the arm and led her into the store, murmuring into her ear, I ' ve got so much money to help me forget and others have so little that I ' m going to busy myself with Christmas charity work to take my mind off myself. ' ' When Mrs. Benson reached home, she said to her husband, Jim, I told Helen Van Dyne that we were going to have a Christmas Eve party, and I want you to invite Jack over also. Tell him the same thing.

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Star of Bethlehem It was December. In two more weeks it would be Christmas. In Bethlehem, a little town in New Hampshire, the townspeople were preparing for a community play to be given Christmas Eve. The heroine, who was Lucy Dennis, fitted into the part very well. The play was pro- gressing rapidly towards perfection. There was only one thing the matter. A hero could not be found. Now in the opinion of everyone except Lucy, David Curtis was just the person for the part. Lucy thought he was simply atro- cious. ' ' There were two reasons for this con- clusion. In the first place, once, when the two of them went to school together, David had caught some mice and had put them in Lucy ' s desk, so that he and his gang might laugh at her. In the second place, when Lucy, in her righteous indignation, had snobbed him, he, instead of being chagrined, didn ' t mind at all and had snobbed her, her, Lucy Priscilla Dennis! Nevertheless, the play must have a hero. For whoever heard of a play without a hero ? Lucy had declared that if David had the part she would not stay in the cast — and who- ever heard of a play without a heroine? Finally the coach, Mrs. Jones, decided to have David learn the part in secret, telling Lucy that her cousin, an accomplished actor from Lisbon, would play the part. As this did not exactly please the people, she dropped a hint here and there as to the truth of the matter. To Lucy, who already was wondering what the fare to Hollywood was, the people reporting these hints (in slightly exaggerated form, it must be remembered) were hateful gossips. However, the stories interested her more than she cared to admit and she listened eagerly to the reports that placed Mrs. Jones ' s cousin next in rank to George Arliss in the profession and equal to Buddy Rogers in looks. Imagine her disappointment, then, when in a rehearsal shortly before the performance, Mrs. Jones announced that her cousin was seriously ill and that another person had con- sented to take the part. Picture her embar- rassment when David Curtis was introduced as the leading man. It was enough to make anyone angry, and Lucy, being a temperamental actress, did not hesitate to tell the coach what she thought of anyone who, after taking the part, had the nerve to get sick; of the coach who had the nerve to appoint him, and of the person who had the nerve to take his place. All her anger might have ended then and there if she had not noticed the grin on David ' s lips. But to see that he wasn ' t down- cast urged her on, until Mrs. Jones told her that if she didn ' t want the part she need

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(TbrtBtmaa ftrflrrtor 5 You ' re too late, my dear. I ' ve asked Merri- vale over already. I was going to tell you about it, but I forgot it. Why, Jim, you ' re marvelous! cried his wife running to hug him. I surely have a smart husband. ' ' Of course you have, my dear. If I weren ' t smart I probably wouldn ' t have married you. You see ' great minds all run in the same channels ' . Christmas Eve came and with it a heavy snow storm and a high wind. The snow was wet, and it clung to Helen ' s fur coat as she struggled blindly toward the Benson ' s home. It was dark, and the lights of many houses shone through the thickly falling snow with a misty gleam that seemed to pierce the heart of the lonely girl and instill some of the Christmas spirit into it that long hours of charity work had failed to arouse. Behind her she heard someone stamping snow from his shoes. She turned around, glad to have a companion for the rest of the walk, and came face to face with her ex-fiance, Jack Mer- rivale. ' ' Why , hello, Helen ! How are you V ex- claimed the young man pleasantly. Oh, I am quite all right, thank you. How do you do, Mr. Merrivale? she asked in a frigid tone, as if it were necessary to ask but that she didn ' t care to know. You ' re still the same old Helen, aren ' t you? the young man continued. I don ' t believe that I have changed my name or habits ! So I suppose I am the same old Helen, she said mimicking him. May I walk to the Benson ' s home with you, Miss Van Dyne ? he asked, sarcastically emphasizing the Miss. You may if you want to, she said un- concernedly. Thus quarrelling, they went up the steps to the Benson home. As Helen ' s hand went out to ring the bell, Jack ' s larger one closed over it. Helen darling, won ' t you foregive me? I ' m terribly sorry for everything. Please look at me and say that you forgive and for- get, he pleaded. Jack dear, it was all my fault. You for- give me please, she said without turning her head. Now I think I-I-I ' m a-a-afraid that I ' m going to look at you ; turn around. ' ' She got no more than a look, for Jack ' s arms closed around her immediately , and all wa ; forgotten and forgiven. The door curtain swayed slightly; then the door opened, silhouetting them against a background of light and merriment, a per- fect picture for the Spirit of Christmas. Marjorie Cass ' 32 Strange Happening The night was wet and cold. The snow, a disagreeable kind, stuck like glue to my cloth- ing. As it fell on my face, it turned to water and trickled slowly downward. The streets were covered with a slippery cloak of slush. The rays of automobile headlights failed to pierce effectively the swiftly falling snow. The automobiles went on their way slowly, stopping at every corner and then continu- ing cautiously onward. Now and then some reckless individual, growing impatient, would speed up and then be forced to skid around the corner. Suddenly a car driven by a chauffeur slurred around the corner where I stood. Just at that moment, I noticed an old man, dressed as a Post Santa Claus, about halfway across the street. I called aloud ; but as he turned, the car swung around and knocked him completely over. I made my way, as quickly as possible, to the injured man ' s aid. Just about the time I reached him, the door of the sedan opened and a well-dressed man of about fifty jumped out. He gave a quick or- der to his chauffeur; then with some assis- tance from me, they managed to place Santa in the rear seat. The man leaped in front with his chauffeur, and they drove off. Two days later, when I was reading the morning paper, I noticed on an inside page a bit of news in heavy print. It read as follows : ' ' Striking Down of Post Santa by John Doe ' s Automobile Results in Christmas Dinner for Three Hundred Orphans at Sea Street Home. Malcolm D. Kemp ' 31 Doe: Will you serve the chicken? Waiter: Sure, what will she have? — Ex. ' ' Papa, papa ! I saved a nickel to-day ! I ran all the way to school behind a street car! Why didn ' t you run behind a bus and save a dime? — Ex.