Arlington High School - Indian Yearbook (Arlington, MA)

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8 THE ARLINGTON HIGH SCHOOL CLARION We are honored each week by our Seniors who, by their remarkable ora- ting, help us greatly by reminding us of our inferior position in relation to their exalted one. Lucia Woodworth, ’28. NOEL EN FRANCE Nous allons faire un petit voyage a Paris pour y passer les fetes de Noel et du jour de l’an. Que c’est interes- sant de se promener sur les grands boulevards ! 11 y a beaueoup de monde qui font les cent pas tout en regardant les arbres de Noel et tout ce qu ' il faut pour les deeorer. Tout le long des trottoirs il y a des baraques qu’on me construit qu’a cette epoque-la de l’an- nee. On y voit toutes sortes de hoses; des marrons glaces, des jouets auto- matiques, de la bijouterie et mille autres objets. Mais il ne faut pas passer tout notre temps sur les grands boulevards. Nous devons visiter quelques-unes des belles eglises pour voir les creches du petit Jesus. Pres de lui se trouvent sa mere et Saint Joseph. Quelquefois meme, il y a les mages venus de loin pour adorer le Sauveur et lui offrir des pre- sents. Puisque nous sommes a Paris, il faut faire comme les Parisiens, c’est-a-dire il faut assister a la messe de minuit. Nous patrons de bonne heure car tout le monde y va en foule, et nous desir- ous etre bien places. Oh ! la belle mus- ique que nous y entendons! Apres la messe nous entrons dans un cafe quelconque sur les boulevards, car c’est la qu’on fait reveillon. Qu’est-ce que c’est que le reveillon? C’est le repas qu’on fait la unit de Noel et qui est l’accompagnement indispensable de la messe de minuit. Ce repas se prolonge au milieu de rejouissances variees. Mais a vrai dire, Noel est sur tout la fete des enfants en meme temps quo fete religieuse. Les enfants laissent leurs sabots on leurs souliers dans la eheminee, ou bien ils pendent leurs cliausettes esperant que le Petit Noel descendra les remplir. Le jour de Pan en France est le grand jour des visites. C’est aussi le jour ou on se fait des cadeaux plutot qu’a Noel. On va chez ses amis les plus eliers pour leur apporter ses meil- leurs sou h aits de nouvelle annee en meme temps qu’une etrenne quescon- que. Pit voila les fetes finies, et mainten- ant il faut retourner dans notre pays tout en gardant un bon souvenir de la belle France. Louise Bradley, ’2G. Mabel Carlton, ’26. HOMING I have often wondered when the eve- ning has come, and the streets are full of people headed homeward, where and what their destination will be. One day, near Christmas, when I was in Boston about five in the afternoon, I observed the crowds of people and tried to imagine what welcome home they would re ceive. There was the poor frail struggling woman. She probably had been work- ing in a store as a clerk ; standing on her feet all day, and she was now going home to prepare the evening meal for a large family. The expression on her face seemed to say that she didn’t get much enjoyment out of life. The win- try blasts were blowing, and the poor woman wrapped her thread-bare coat around her and hustled through the crowd. The pompous banker was swinging along with an air of importance, his cane on his arm, and spats neatly but- toned. He stepped into a taxi and was soon out of sight. I wondered where the street beggar who sold pencils in front of R. IL Stearns, lived. He had no legs, and his only method of transportation was by a small cart of iron, on which he was tied. He sped up Tremont Street, humping down one curb stone and up the next, soon to reach his destina- tion, probably in the slums of Boston. The gay young shop girls were amb- ling along, gazing at the gorgeous win- dow displays and telling their friends of the swell time they had last night, and what “swell music and good eats they had, and how well Jim did the

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THE ARLINGTON HIGH SCHOOL CLARION luge. The yule tide lias brought many schooners into the harbor because the men have come home to he with their families and friends on the best day of all the year. — Anita Andres, ' 28. A CHRISTMAS EVE IN OLD ENGLAND Christmas Eve! Snow covers t lie ground, and there is 1 no sign of its ceasing. Everyone is hustling to and fro with mysterious bundles. The whole aspect is so Christmasy, that it makes everyone tingle with excitement. It is dusk, and as we make our way around the old streets of the English town, we have a strange feeling. Now we pause before a stately house, which has lost some of its dignified ap- pearance. As we stand outside, we look in and see the happy family gath- ered around the table in the large hall. But there seems to be an extra place. This is set in memory of the Christ Child. The place is heaped with all sorts of good things, and set with the best silver. We are told that any beg- gar can partake of this bountiful feast. As the family finishes their repast, we follow them to the great hall. There, some servants are placing the Yule log on the fireplace, and someone is pre- paring to light it. We are told that a log of this sort is to be seen in every fireplace on Christmas Eve, and that it is so huge, it. burns for twenty-four hours. Now the family turns to the tree which glows with the light of its can- dles. The presents are distributed, and after everyone exclaims over his gifts, their minds are turned to other amusements. The children are allowed to stay up, and everyone joins in giv- ing them a good time. What is that? It is the waits sing- ing their carols. We learn that the custom of carol singing began with the waits. The poor minstrels of the towns and cities assemble to sing their carols each Christmas Eve. The people in return give gifts of money and food. The excitement is all over for the present. It is nearing midnight, and as the big town clock strikes the hour, the great house settles down to quiet- ness and darkness, until the early morning ushers in the dawn of Christ- mas with all its joys. I . O., ' 28. ON A RAINY DAY To me a rainy day, such as Sunday, October twenty-fifth, is quite fascinat- ing. One can hear so many more dif- ferent sounds than on a sunny day. As I sit at my desk studying, the pitter-patter of the rain against the window is very restful. The wind is howling around the north side of my house, and I can imagine Mr. North- Wind, a flowing grey cloak wrapped around him, his limbs gnarled, and an expression of determination on his face as he tears through the trees and hurls the leaves from the branches, leaving the hills bare, as an old worn pine floor, instead of the gorgeous Per- sian rug which they once represented. The rain drops tapping on the window sills sound as though they might be a fairy musician’s metronome. It seems miraculous to think that the rain comes so many thousand miles from the sky down to earth to give us vegetation here. I have often wondered why it is that sometimes the rain falls heavily and then in a few moments lightly again. A rainy day certainly has its charms as well as its dreariness. A THANKFUL CHRISTMAS Let us he merry, rejoicing in the glad tidings of great joy and the many bles- sings bestowed on us. The school board lias done away with Mid years with one bold stroke, thus eliminating t lie Waterloo of many. The new lunch room, completed at last, has proved a great success, and the cookery, for luring our hungry eyes, is excellent. We are now, in the first days of December, rewarded with fifteen min- utes more of sleep for which reason we should imagine that some one appre- ciates us after all. We have won the football and track championships and who could ask for more?

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THE ARLINGTON HIGH SCHOOL CLARION 9 Charleston. They all were dressed in the latest style, even though their fur coat was being paid for on the install- ment plan. Evidently a number of the colleges had just dismissed the students for Christmas vacation, because a number of the collegiate boys and girls were greeting fond parents, who probably had spent several hours and a great deal of labor in preparing for their chi ldren’s home coming, only to have them get a few of their meals ' and sleep under their roof during the social whirl of Christmas vacation. The stu- dents certainly seemed enthusiastic and acted as though they were getting all the enjoyment possible out of life. I heard the weird, shrill cry of the train whistle and wondered where it was going and what joy or sorrow it was bringing to those on board. What a joy it is to have a smiling face at the door to greet one and a happy home in which one can get the best things of life. Lucia Woodworth, ’ 27 . THE WHITE HILLS IN WINTER The twelfth of October, just after a very severe and early snow storm, with a friend T climbed Mount Moosilaukee in the White Mountains. The woods through which we passed were trans- formed into a wonderland of snow and ice by the blizzard which had raged all the preceding day and night. A rather unusual condition existed in the woods at the base of the moun- tain, where the hardwoods grow; over the blanket of snow was a carpet of dry, brilliantly colored leaves, two or three inches thick, which had been spread by the wind during Hie storm. It was a peculiar sensation to walk along through this mealy mixture of dry snow and leaves. The Beaver Brook Cascades, beside which the trail ascends steeply for over a mile, were unusually beautiful in their setting of snow and ice. Their beauty was greatly magnified when the sun burst through the fleeting clouds, and formed dozens of tiny rainbows on the masses of ice, as it shone through the fine spray blow;n down from the hundreds of waterfalls above. Near the top of a minor ridge the woods of primeval spruce, arrayed in their wintry splendor, formed unbroken canopies over our heads. The vistas reminded us of passages through some great marble cathedral where dark col- umns, supporting rich tapestries tow- ered high overhead. This winter was not confined to our immediate surroundings; for, when we reached the “fountain,” where the water shoots some six or eight feet up into the air, a marvelous panorama of more than a score of snow covered 1 teaks presented itself before us. One thousand feet below, in the very bot- tom of Kinsman Notch nestled the res- ervation buildings and the famous gorge of Lost River, from which we had made our start up the mighty Moosi- laukee. Sweeping off to the right was the broadening valley of Moosilaukee Brook. From the other side of the Notch, thyir summits towering high above us, rose the ice capped peaks of Mounts Waternomee, Jim, and Blue. Further climbing through trees heav- ily laden with snow and ice brought us to a point from which we obtained enthralling views of the Franconia peaks. Their sharp summits, robed in purest white, formed a marked con- trast to the dark wooded area of Wolf Mountain and Kinsman Ridge at their base. The sun was shining directly upon them making us think of glorious pictures we had seen of the Swiss Alps. Finally we reached the top, exhausted in body, but recreated in soul. Moun- tains, mountains everywhere, all capped in pure white. From the bar- ren summit we got beautiful views of the Franeonias and the peaks beyond, similar but grander than those from below. Behind the stately Liberty, in the clear blue sky, towered the great white cone of Mount Washington, the mightiest of all. White, everything was white, even the old tip top house, in which we were to spend the night, had a layer of dead white frost feathers, six to eight inches thick over its weather-beaten walls.