Arlington High School - Indian Yearbook (Arlington, MA)

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ARLINGION HIGH SCHOOL CLARION. 9 I had been there but a few days when tliere went past my window a lady who at first glance took my fancy. She had light golden hair, brushed lightly back from her face, and soft blue eyes. She entered the door of the store, and I heard her say, “Can’t you take that pair out of the window ?” ‘That pair’ meant my better-half and me. I was tried on her small foot and pro- nounced a perfect fit, and after being wrapped in tissue paper and packed in my own little box, I was sent to her home. It was one of the grandest houses I have ever been in, with its large halls and rooms, and its broad stair-case. Well, soon I was taken out again and placed on her foot, and we tripped gaily down the sta irs, and entered a large draw- ing-room. It was brilliantly lighted, and ladies and gentlemen stood in little groups talking. Suddenly the band, which was over in one corner of the room, struck up a dreamy waltz, and I heard some one say, “May I have the pleasure. Miss May?” The answer must have been yes, but I didn’t hear it, for we went gracefully gliding around the room. First we went forward, then back- ward, then forward, and backward again, and then round and round for a few times. I cannot describe that evening, except that I had a very agreeable time, even if my sole did burn and smart a little afterwards. I went to a number of such parties, and then after having a new sole on me (for mine was nearly worn out) I was put up in the closet with lots of other shoes, among which were my mistress’s tan golf shoes, her new fancy dancing shoes, and her high storm shoes. We had quite sociable times there evenings, and from my friends that I have mentioned, I found out that my mistress was a fine golf and tennis player, and that on rainy, disagree- able days, when most people were in their homes enjoying their grate-fires, she was out on an errand of charity, or doing some good deed. Of course these things made me think all the more of her, yet I couldn’t help wondering why she had cast me aside, and why she didn’t wear me any more. I soon found out though. T. K. MILLETT, practical Rair Drcescr, 454 Mass. Avenue, Arlington. Visit... COLUMBIAN CAFE, FOR A Quick Lunch or Good Dinner CIGARS AND TOBACCO. A. C. LaBREQUE, Railroad Crossing. Fred W. Derby, Refracting Optician . 458 Hass. Av., Arlington, Mass. Subjective and objective methods used. Darkroom facilities. Accuracy guaranteed. % K K X X X X X X X TRY Kim Aim HT p lour It has no equal. Try it and be convinced. WM. WHYTAL SON, R. W. Shattuck « Co., PLUMBERS Furnaces, Ranges and General Jobbing 467 Massachusetts Avenue.

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8 ARLINGTON HIGH SCHOOL CLARION. then hurry to the station to give the alarm. About midnight on this twentieth of December the patrol from Peaked Hill Station discovered a two-masted vessel driving for shore at a point not far dis- tant from the station which he had but just left. At this point along the shore there are two sand-bars, visible at low-tide, about an eighth of a mile off shore. The outer is not so high as the inner, but both offer an effectual blockade to vessels drawing much water. The patrol did not stop to watch the schooner, but dashed toward the station and gave the alarm. The men immedi- ately donned oilskins, then harnessed the horses to the carts ; one contained all the signals — mortar, ammunition and other paraphernalia necessary ; the other was a truck, holding the life-boat. Now the horses were driven outside and then started at a gallop toward the spot op- posite, where the vessel was laboring in the terrible surf. By this time the Jason had struck the outer bar, and was pounding against it, until, lifted by a mighty wave, she rose clear over it, and was launched with tre- mendous force against the inner bar. The masts had gone when she struck the outer bar, and now the vessel was a mass of wreckage. The life-savers finding it impossible to launch the life boat in the fearful surf, had decided to use the mortar to shoot a bolt, to which was attached a cord over the vessel. The first shot landed the line across the bow, and Bob Hicks secured it. and read the attached message, which stated that they were to haul in the light rope till they reached a heavy one, to which was attached another rope; to fasten the heavy rope to the stump of the mast, and then haul in the rope attached to it unlil they came to the breeches-buoy, which was a very large life-buoy with an enor- mous pair of short pants attached to it. The crew went ashore safely, sitting in the breeches-buoy, though at times the rope sagged and the men were soaked to the skin in the icy water. As soon as all were landed they were taken to the station quickly, where, un- der the influence of warm food and dry clothing, they were soon very comfort- able. The next morning they were taken in a team over the frozen sand-hills to Provincetown, where they took the train for Boston. Here they soon got posi- tions on another vessel belonging to the owners of the Jason. But since that stormy December night none of the crew pass Highland Light without thinking of their dreadful experience. Frank A. Euhlert, ’03. THE STORY OF A SHOE. On a certain moonlight night the aristocracy of the dump were holding a consultation, whether or not to admit in- to their society a new member. Miss Shoe. To associate with someone that they knew nothing whatever about would never do. At last, one of the members. Miss Red Box, decided to have a tea, at which they would introduce Miss Shoe to their society and invite her to read a paper on her early life. She agreed to this request, and produced a paper some- thing like this : The very first that I can remember about myself, is being taken out of a large box, and put on a glass stand in a store window in what I should judge was a shoe-store, as there were nothing but shoes, as far as I could see. I was then quite good-looking, having a fine smooth complexion, and a bright shinv cap, and as people went past my window I could hear many different remarks, such as would have made anv one but me very vain indeed.

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lO ARLINGTON HIGH SCHOOL CLARION. One clay a very scantily-clothed g ' irl with no shoes or stockings on came to the door, and asked my mistress if she had any old clothes to give her. I suppose I was considered as old clothes, for I was done up in a bundle with some other things and given to her. Soon I found myself in a narrow, dingy street, with numerous dirty children running about, and some one called out, “What yer got, Sadie?” The answer was one that I would not deign to repeat, but meant that it was none of her affairs. This girl, my new owner, wore me constantly, from morning to night, rain or shine, daily ex- hibiting me to all her companions. It seemed sometimes that I simply couldn’t stand it, and it was a relief, when a few days ago, she discovered that I was too old to be of any further use to her, and threw me over here. Of course the latter part of my life has not been very happy, and I often think of the time when I was bright and shiny, in my days of “Old Lang Syne.” At the closing remark Miss Shoe was universally elected a member of the aristocracy of the dump. Emma R. Turner. ’03. A DAY ON THE RIPS. Those who have ever been outside on the fishing grounds pulling bluefish on a windy day with a choppy sea, know what exhilerating sport it is. On such a day last summer, having slept aboard the fishing-boat the night before, as was necessary on account of the early start, I was with the fisherman outside, about five miles off shore, on what are called the Rips. We had started a little after three in the morning, and partly owing to the hard bunk and the small and stuffy cabin, and partly on account of the snores of one of the fishermen, I was unable to get much sleep, so that while we were get- ting under way for the fishing-grounds I thought I would continually fall asleep, but as a breeze sprung up and the boat began to pitch and throw water this sleepiness soon wore off. As the harbor is nearly landlocked, in order to get out- side upon the fishing-grounds, it is neces- sary to sail through a narrow opening, through which the tide runs with so great velocity that a large fishing-boat with a strong breeze at times is hardly able to make headway against it, and when out- side the breakers are very dangerous in stormy weather. We left the harbor just at sunrise, the most beautiful part of a summer day, and the red glow overspreading sky and water was very impressive. As soon as we were outside we rigged the lines on the outriggers at each side and one at the stern. The lines on the sides are from sixty to seventy yards in length, and the one in the centre about thirty to forty yards. At the ends of the lines are about six inches of chain to prevent the fish from biting the line, a light sinker to keep the line a few feet from the surface, and a large powerful hook. Over the hook and chain is drawn an eel-skin inside out, which shines in the water like a small fish. The lines are trailed along through the water at full speed, for if too slow sometimes the fish will not bite, and the hooks also must be kept clear of sea- weed. I took charge of the port line, a fisher- man the starboard, and the captain the one at the stern. I was sitting on the windward rail when I felt a thrill go through the line, and looking to windward, I saw the out- rigger stand nearly straight up and then settle a little. Springing to the guy-line I started to pull in my fish. This is no easv task if you have a gamey one, for the lines are