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

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lUterarp An Unsung Hero Though the year 1775 saw many famous events, important in the life of our country, an event occurred in New Jersey that few people know, since it was important in the life of one man. But let me tell you the story connected with this event so important and so vital to the life and happiness of Daniel Morris. Dan came from a fine New Jersey family who lived on a beautiful estate about ten miles east of Prince- ton. The place adjoining theirs was owned by Major Hamilton, a wealthy old gentleman, who lived there with his daughter, Mary Jane, his servants and — his horses. Mary Jane and Daniel had grown up together, and as our story opens Mary Jane had just passed her nineteenth birth- day and Dan was almost three years her senior. The first of this chain of events occurred at the Hamilton place early in May, 1775. There was great excitement in Major Ham- ilton ' s stables. The black boys, who kept his horses ' coats shining and their stables spotless, were preparing one of the empty boxes for a newcomer. The Major himself was superintend- ing operations, for everything had to be in the pink of condition when the latest addition to Major Hamilton ' s fine string of horses was de- livered. This horse was an Arabian, a thorough- bred, and he must be cared for as such. Sam, barked the Major, the corners of this feed box are not clean, and, Jeb, here ' s a nail sticking out. And so it went until the Major could find not a wisp of hay out of place or a bit of dust on the floor and then Heah he is, Massa Hamilton, said Jeb; and sure enough, there he was. Phil Davis stood in front of the stable door, holding the halter of this fine specimen of horse flesh, the finest ever seen by the Major and no doubt one of the finest in the Colonies. Cream- white he was from the tip of his long, sweeping tail to his quivering nostrils. His coat shone like satin and his bright eyes seemed so intelligent that the Major was almost disappointed when he didn ' t speak. His lines were long, graceful curves and the muscles of his slender legs flexed under their delicate skin as he pranced and fret- ted, restrained by the hand of Phil Davis. The Major, usually fearful lest he not get his money ' s worth, almost smiled as he paid the man, for he thought that the large sum was not one half what this Arab steed was worth. In Major Hamilton ' s stable there were many fine horses, but there was no comparing them with Bedouin, as the pride of the stables was named. Bedouin had a temper, a fact that the stable boys soon found out, and his whims were many; but though he caused the grooms many difficulties, Mary Jane was a privileged person. She could smooth his flanks without his lively heels becoming active, and she and Sam were the only ones he would allow to put on his bridle — that is, until Dan rode over one morn- ing to see the horse that everyone was discussing. And Bedouin liked him. Thus, every morn- ing would see Dan at the Hamilton ' s to edu- cate Bedouin, so he told Mary Jane. He found this horse an apt pupil and before Bedouin knew it, by Dan ' s patient, yet firm, method of teaching he had learned many tricks, but the best of them was to kneel on his forelegs as though he were praying. It ' s wonderful, exclaimed Mary Jane. But it really wasn ' t. Dan had a way with horses, and such an apt pupil as Bedouin couldn ' t help learning things regardless of the teacher. For many months, Dan came regularly to the Hamilton ' s, although Bedouin ' s education was completed, but then he went away. There was great excitement among the stable Page Three

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1331-1932 Editor-in-Chief SUE HARPER ' 32 Associate Editors Literary Business Manager Carl Parsons ' 32 Secretaries Edith Baker ' 32 Nellie Beaton ' 32 Alan Bryant ' 33 Loretto Buchan ' 32 Isabell Dacey ' 32 Russell Dexheimer ' 33 Parmys Goodale ' 33 Helen Nye ' 33 Alumni Arthur Garland 30 A dverttsing John Bentley ' 33 Marjorie Bentley ' 35 Louise Fay ' 32 Marjorie Hayvvard ' 34 Isabella Knox ' 34 Patricia Lyons ' 32 Theda Monroe ' 33 Mary Reidy ' 33 Esther Springer ' 32 Trade School Henry Laniewski ' 32 Rita DeMers ' 32 Ellen Holma ' 32 Antoinette Lilla ' 32 Doris Nordell ' 32 Olga Yetsook ' 32 Exchange Nellie Beaton ' 32 Isabell Dacey ' 32 Athletics Art Stanley Neptune ' 32 Warren Hilton ' 32 Faculty Adviser P. B. Brown Sable of (Uontwifi Page Literary Section 3 Editorials 19 Poetry 22 Student Opinion 25 School News 26 Alumni 29 Sports 30 Crystal Ball 32 Jokes 33 Exchanges 34

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I REFLECTOR boys, though Bedouin didn ' t understand what the trouble was. Intelligent as he was, he couldn ' t be expected to know that the United Colonies had declared themselves independent of England and that Dan had gone away to serve as Colonel Morris in General Washington ' s army to help prove to England that the Colonies were independent. One day the stables were cleared of all the horses save two. Of course, Bedouin was one, for the Major loved and valued him too much to see him go to war as a cavalry horse, and the other, Cleve, the Major wouldn ' t let them take because of his age. In December, 1776, the entire region about Princeton was stirred up and worried, too, but the worry was short-lived. You must know that this was caused by Washington ' s retreat from New York through Princeton and Trenton across the Delaware. A few days before Christmas of the same year Major Hamilton was out exercising Bedouin, and saw one of his neighbors, a John Howard, accompanied by three British officers, cantering down the road ahead of him, turn in to How- ard ' s estate. Although he was somewhat puz- zled by what he had seen, because Howard was known to be rabid for colonial independence, any further thought (for the time) about it was ob- literated by the much more important and very welcome news of Washington ' s successful cam- paign in New Jersey, which culminated in a vic- tory at Princeton, a little more than ten miles away. As the war went on, so did Bedouin ' s life go on, but his life was quiet — totally unlike the war — until nearly two years after Washington ' s campaign in New Jersey. One day in June, 1778, the twenty-eighth, to be exact, a dusty and breathless man came running into the yard and up to Major Hamilton ' s house. When this man and the Major came into the stables, Bedouin recognized him as a frequent visitor at the Ham- ilton ' s, John Howard. He heard them mention his name and guessed that they wanted him. And right he was, for Sam unfastened the door of his stall and led Bedouin out. As soon as he was saddled and bridled, John Howard mounted. Remember, I ' m trusting you to take good care of him, Bedouin heard the Major tell Howard, and above all, get that message through to Lee. Don ' t use the curb too hard, and bring him back safe, John. With that they were off. How John Howard rode! Never in his life had Bedouin had such treatment. First dozens of needles pricked his ribs and when he reared to try to unseat his rider, vicious jerks on the curb cut his tender mouth and soon his sides ran with blood and his breast was plastered thick with reddened foam, but still John Howard stayed on. They rode for a long time and then Bedouin began to fret again, this time because of the crack-crack of the bullets and roaring of the cannons. They were nearing Monmouth. Straight for the army of red coats the traitor Howard rode, and there dismounted. Where ' s General Clinton? he asked an or- derly. Having received his directions, he hur- ried away, leaving Bedouin with the soldier. In a few minutes he was back again and rider and horse became a part of the moving mass of sol- diers, horses and artillery that was driving the Colonials before them. Bedouin was terror stricken — never before had he heard and seen these bullets and guns, but Howard kept him fjoing straight for the disordered ranks of the retreating army, using his spurs when Bedouin flinched at continuing, or cruelly jerking on the curb when he shied at some fallen figure. But suddenly these retreating soldiers were changed into an orderly army, and they turned about to give chase to the British. In the midst of the battle in which you know General Clinton and his red coats got away to the coast, Bedouin felt his rider slide off the saddle, and he was free — but where to go? All around him bullets were cracking and he rushed about blindly, seeking a way out of this din and confusion. Once he stopped to get his bearings, and it seemed that he heard a voice calling his name. It was faint — yet familiar, and looking about, he saw the figure of a man lying on the ground. Bedouin, come here, boy, come, this man said weakly. Bedouin hesitated and sniffed suspiciously. The man sounded like Dan, but how different this man looked from the man he had known, and Page Four