Agawam High School - Sachem Yearbook (Agawam, MA)

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Vivienne. Yes, and what nice presents he brought us! After he went we scurried to the lunch-room to get the goodies. [Mary nods.] Mary. The next big event was the Senior play “Adam and Eva.” Didn’t the cast work hard to make the play a success? Vivienne. Do you remember how well the members fitted into their different roles? And how pleased the faculty were as well as the towns- people who saw it? Mary. Here’s a picture that Miss Jauch took of Annette Letendre climbing over the boat-house porch railing when we had our outing at Smith College. [Displays picture to Vivienne.] Sorry I didn’t get one of our Bay Path Institute outing. Vivienne. We didn’t do much after that, did we? Mary. No. We were too busy exchanging pictures and getting our Prom tickets! Here’s a strip of the decorations, one of the blue and gold streamers, and here’s my program. Vivienne. Wasn’t the hall beautifully decorated? The spotlight gave such a wonderful tropical moonlight effect! Mary. Didn’t the small trees make a pretty scene? Vivienne. Then came class night and graduation. But let’s not talk about that. It always makes me feel lonely. Voice from below. Mary, you’re wanted on the telephone. Vivienne. You go along, Mary. I’ll put the things back in the trunk. Mary goes to answer the phone. Vivienne puts things in trunk, closes it, and follows Mary. Mary A. Bruso Cjfirelight Cfancies he wind is howling fiercely, While sheeted rain beats down Swishing against the windows And drenching the thirsty ground. It’s cold and dark without. Within, the lights burn low And a roaring, open fire Flares with a ruddy glow’. At first, the fire burns brightly With spitting, sputtering sounds, And flames, like things alive, Strain at unseen bonds; Blue-based flames, tipped with yellow, Coiled smoke like misty fogs, And tiny sparks that dance Along the burning logs. l 3]

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attractive. I’m sure we could never have gotten along without her artistic ability to guide us. Vivienne. Remember our typewriting champion, “Cal” Cascella? Gosh, couldn’t her fingers dance over the keys? Mary. I’ll say so. She brought back third prize from Brattleboro during her Junior year. We bet then that she’d win the cup the next year and she did! Perhaps the airplanes that flew past the school were an inspi- ration for her speed. Did you ever notice that as soon as an airplane was heard “Cal” stopped all work and watched it until it was out of sight? [Vivienne nods.] Vivienne. That finishes our Junior year, doesn’t it? Mary. All except graduation. Remember Ella Gregory and Alyce Houlahan acted as marshalls for the dignified Seniors. Then on the last day of school, Mr. Davenport announced the Pro Merito members of our class. There were six. [Counts.] George Reynolds, Alfred Johnson, Lou- ise Shields, Josie Novelli, Thelma Gemme, and myself. This is my Pro Merito pin. [Displays pin.] I wear it all the time. It’s small but it means a lot. [Picks up picture and examines it.] Oh, here’s a picture of our Twin State Champions. [Passes it to Vivienne.] Vivienne. Oh, yes. The big four, Wallace, Channell, Consolati, and Reynolds are among them. You’re not going to destroy that picture, I know. [Hands it to Mary. She places it on floor with other picture.] Haven’t you any account of the Student Council members from our class during the Junior year? Mary. No, I don’t think I have. Who were they? Vivienne. George Reynolds, Esther Stebbins, Ralph Channell, and Frank Consolati. This afternoon I was reading an account of how this or- ganization has grown. It gave a brief history and the names of the first members. That’s how I remembered the names. Mary. Then in September, we met in the same room overlooking the riser as the Senior class. At our class meeting that year we elected George Reynolds, president; Josie Novelli, vice-president; Esther Stebbins, sec- retary; and Louis Ferrarini, treasurer. Poor Louis, he needed a lot of sympathy when he came to collect dues from our class. Remember the threats he made about our not receiving Prom tickets if dues were not paid and our not having any seats reserved for the banquet? Vivienne. [Fingering notebook.] Here’s an account of the Student Council members for that year. [Reads.] “George Reynolds, Josie Novelli Esther Stebbins, and William Butler.” This is the little book the coun- cil put out during our senior year. It was meant to be a guide for the Freshmen. They certainly should profit by the advice of those seniors. [Leans over edge of trunk.] What a cute little cap! Did you get that at the kid party? Mary. ’Mm. Remember the automobiles and kiddy cars we swarmed over the floor in? Miss Button even attempted to make a trip around the gym on one of the little vehicles. Vivienne. Oh, yes. How well you remember that! I’ll never forget it! Mary. And what a nice Santa Claus Channell made!

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Now, tired from futile efforts, The flames sink slowly down And leave but glowing coals And ashes, crusted brown. The smoky bricks grow darker. Soft shadows fill the room As white smoke spirals upward And fades in the chimney’s gloom. I gaze at the burning embers And see a castle there, With lofty spires, and dungeons, And turrets, bleak and bare. With rough-hewn walls and drawbridge That speak of might and power, And tiny flags that flutter From the peak of every tower. Down drops a burning coal. My dreaming eye perceives A lofty Grecian Temple With pillared porch and freize. With massive roof of marble, And curving steps of stone That lead to my Grecian Temple As it stands on a hill, alone. Slowly the pillars crumble. The roof begins to fall And all that is left is ruins Of my gorgeous Grecian Hall. Then I see a towering forest With trees of golden hue, That bend and toss and tremble As though a gale swept through. Lower they bend and lower While the windstorm rushes on. A burst of smoke, a flame, My golden woods are gone. The charred log spits and sputters. The little smoke clouds rise, While the dead-white ashes spread And the fading fire dies. [24]