Arlington High School - Indian Yearbook (Arlington, MA)

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6 ARLINGTON HIGH SCHOOL CLARION. parently without having added a single per- son to its crew. As the moon was still under the cloud, and we could see nothing but the glimmer of the lantern, you can imagine with what impatience we awaited the return of the little craft, which was coming back very swiftly, helped along by the gentle breeze and the long, even strokes of the sailors. Not a word would they an- swer to our excited shouts, and it was not until they had reached the ship’s side and had been helped up on deck, that we learn- ed the result of their expedition. The sig- nal was only a bit of foam, dashing upon the side of a rock. You may be sure I did not sit up much later that night, but slipped quietly off to bed; not in time, however, to escape a few sarcastic remarks, relative to my marvelous eyesight. Marjorie Wood, ’06 The Litchfield Studio Stu dio Building Arlington V Photographs that almost speak I CLASS PHOTOGRAPHER 1900 , 1901 , 1902 , 1903 , 1904 SIR ROGER IN BOSTON. Facilis descensus Averno . — Virg. One cent is all one has to pay To descend and pass through the Subway. Trans. C. G. A short time ago, while my friend, Sir Roger de Coverley, was spending a fort- night with me, we decided one day, at my suggestion, to pay a visit to the Hub. We had the motor car, one of the new four cylinder machines, brought around to the door, where Sir Roger, true to his custom, wished to inspect the axle-trees. Although I showed him that he would be obliged to crawl partly beneath the vehicle, he in- sisted, and proceeded to plough up the ground with the back of his new leather reefer. He emerged very soon, however, spluttering cylinder oil with a wry face, and exclaiming, “ That tastes exactly like the substance that Will Honeycomb was wont to oil his hair with, and which I once took for eau-de-vie ! ” As for the axle-trees, they seemed to be perfectly satisfactory, so we climbed in and started. I certainly disregarded the speed ordi- nance that morning, and Sir Roger managed to gasp in my ear, “ Aren’t you — going — a bit — ah — fast ? Really, you know, I have not had — ah — time to bow — to any of the — people we — have past, — much less to say — good morning.” I replied that they, too, were in a hurry, so that it did not matter. On arriving at the hotel, we got out and went in the side entrance where, after reg- istering, we were beset by the usual ob- sequious bell boys and porters, all of whom Sir Roger thanked very kindly and pro- ceeded to look for one with some infirmity. “ H’m,” said he, after a short survey of every nether limb, “ they all seem to be as sound as the three-year-old geldings.” After a change of clothing and lunch, we were again ceremoniously brushed by cer- tain other servile individuals, one of whom,

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ARLINGTON HIGH SCHOOL CLARION. 5 making a scene with him. I shuddered while I thought of my pride, but when I thought of the signs I had left at home about blowing out the gas and turning off the water, that same cold shiver raced down my back and tortured me ; and all the while I was pulling on my coat that would ride up my back. Verily, “ Pride goeth before a fall.” Marion R. Brooks, ’06. A SIGNAL OF DISTRESS. It waa a clear moonlight night in Octo- ber, and though midnight was fast ap- proaching, many of my fellow passengers had come out on deck to enjoy a picture far more beautiful than any artist could paint. The great, full moon looked down upon us in the most friendly manner, and seemed to take great delight in spreading a soft glow as far as it could reach, over the smooth expanse of glimmering water, interrupted here and thereby a small island, with its white beach and perchance a little cluster of houses in the centre. The beauty of the scene had caused a deep silence to fall upon the little company, and each one of us was busy with his own thoughts, when suddenly my eye lighted on a small white object in the distance. On leaning forward to examine it more closely, I came to the conclusion that it was a signal of dis- tress, and whispered the discovery to my companion. Together we stole up to the captain, who was leisurely smoking his pipe just inside the cabin door, and explained the situation to him. Instantly he was alert with interest, and taking his spy-glass from his pocket, he walked quickly to the railing, and peered anxiously at the moving white speck in the distance. Just at this moment the moon began to disappear behind a dark cloud, so that he hardly had time to exam- ine the object, before a complete darkness had settled upon the water. I assured him I knew some one was drowning out there, and begged him to send help; so, ordering the pilot to turn the ship a little more to the northeast, he went below to see that her speed was increased, in order that we might reach the unfortunate person as soon as possible. By this time I had acquainted everyone on deck with the news, and the silence was replaced by a scene of confu- sion and excitement, which increased more and more as the ship advanced, aggravated by the fact that we could no longer see any- thing. When we were within calling dis- tance, the captain shouted, “Hello there ! ” But there was no reply. Again he shouted, and still no reply. As he well knew that there were rocks in that vicinity, he dared proceed no farther, but ordered the sailors to anchor the ship and lower a row boat, into which two stalwart men descended with a lantern, and rowed away in the di- rection which the captain indicated to them. By the help of the lantern, the small group of excited passengers could follow the course of the little dory, as it made its way very slowly against both the wind and the tide. Fifteen minutes of anxious waiting went by, before we saw the boat stop in front of what looked like an immense black rock. To our astonishment it did not stay very long here, but gliding slowly around the rock, it began to move toward us, ap- ARLJNCTQN BOSTON Le Buff Bros. Interior Decorators. WINDOW SHADES, WALL PAPER, BRASS POLES AND RODS, DRAPERIES, MOULDINGS, WINDOW SCREENS, VENETIAN BUNDS, UPHOLSTERY HARDWARE, GRILL WO K. 483 IV! ASSACHUSETTS AVENUE.

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ARLINGTON HIGH SCHOOL CLARION. 7 as we started to leave, said, “Ain’t you forgot somethin’, sir?” Sir Roger made a hasty inventory of all his immediate posses- sions, and replied, “N-no, I think not ; I thank you, none-the-less, for reminding me. ” I absent-mindedly left two coins on the table, and with a glance at the grinning men, left the room. We walked up town and descended the stairs to the East Boston Tunnel, although before going down Sir Roger suggested our buying battery lamps, like one I had shown him at home, in case we should want to find our way. He was amazed at the bril- liant glare of the lights below. Having got into the car, the old knight was prone to bow to all within, and when we sat down he asked a young woman by his side, in a perfectly courteous way, for the state of the little boy’s health, who sat beside her. I immediately engaged him in a brisk conversation, which I continued all the way over, although I could not help hearing a man opposite remark to his neighbor “ Butt wise de fly old sport, tryin ’ ter talk t ’ Alderman McGinnis’ wife. He better cut it ; McGinnis has got de biggest fist in de ward ; dat’s right ! ” Very fortunately my friend did not hear this, for it would have deeply pained him to have what he intended for a kind remark, seem rude. Upon ask- ing him what he thought of the tunnel, he said, “ A very great work ; truly, a remark- able work ; although the conversation so interested me that I did not much notice. ” After an evening at “ Hamlet,” where he aroused the good-natured mirth of those about us by his quaint remarks on the players, and mine by his references to and comparisons of Ophelia and the perverse widow, we rode home slowly, discussing the play on the way. “A great man, was Hamlet,” said he, “ verily, a truly great man. His grief did remind me of that of Tim Tender, when he lost his last colt in the mire. Yes, he was indeed a noble soul, and in his silence in public, I do appreciate the silence of my very dear friend, ‘ the Spectator,’ in the days of the ‘ Spectator Club.’ ” Charles Gott, Jr., ’06. A MIDNIGHT EXPERIENCE. “ Me ! Maria, afraid of a ghost ? Hum, well I guess not,” and, with a great laugh but a strangely beating heart, John Lakely turned to the door preparatory to spending his first night as electric car starter. The man who had formerly held this office had recently died and his ghost was said to ap- pear every night at twelve. “Well, John,” began his wife timidly, “ they do say — ” “Oh hush up, Maria, there arn’t no such things, I tell ye.” So, with a brave slam of the door and a great tramping down the steps, he strode off through the darkness. When he threw open the door of the little station, where it was believed the ghost came, he found nothing more disturb- ing than the loudly ticking clock and a cat purring by the stove. All went well until about quarter of twelve. Then the cat, by some occult influence, who had hardb ' moved before, began to stir uneasily, the to move about and rub against the man’- Take Your Prescriptions to PERHAM ' S WHERE THEY ARE PUT UP BY REGISTERED DRUGGISTS.