Arlington High School - Indian Yearbook (Arlington, MA)

Page 9 text:

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?

Page 8 text:

G THE ARLINGTON HIGH SCHOOL CLARION nearing each other; one driven by na- ture’s force, tlie other by man’s inven- tion. The larger is a liner, the smal- ler, a freighter of an obsolete type. Suddenly, a deafening crash is fol- lowed by screams from the liner, and curses from the freighter. Pandemon- ium reigns. The huge liner has rammed the “square rigger” amidships and has backed off leaving her to her fate. For three minutes she flounders, and then plunges with her mighty expanse of canvas below the cruel sea carrying hu- man life with her. The director claps his hands and calls for more. Gloriously, before she sinks, the “Barque” tights to remain afloat as she tips 1 on her side half submerging her yards and sails, finally sinking stern first. Clinging to debris in the gray water, men curse, pray, groan, and yell for mercy and deliverance from that accursed grave. God, life is good. Men who have almost forgot- ten their mother’s prayers call on God for help. Someone swears ' . How ter- rible the curse sounds now. How piti- ful, when sailors, the world’s hardest, weep and pray to the God they have cursed. One calls for a knife. He has lost his fight. Three hours have passed when day- light breaks, cold and gray, revealing five floating bodies, stiff and stark, the toil of the sea to add to that mammouth grave. Five lone heads now bob on the water. Close by are two more who neither see, hear, nor speak. The five see, far off in the distance, one tall mast, fast fading from sight, taking with it the only hope for five men. Again, in unison ; they call on their Maker for mercy; but, no, the ship fades farther, and farther away, until but a mere speck is visible on the hor- izon. With uplifted empty eyes they give up hope and resign themselves to their fate. The director is neglectful, for no sharks appear on the scene; or would it have been merciful? Numbness overtakes them and they are comfortable, in that semi-uncon- sciousness that precedes death. A wave washes over the five lone prospects for death; grim, black death and another passes on, leaving but four. And so in this manner four souls give up the mental fight for life on a boundless ocean. The director, however, grows weary. G. W. R., ’26. SCENES IN WINTER The City The grayish colored snow is banked against the dark, brick buildings, and the icy blasts send the people hurrying along the streets with their garments wrapped tightly about them. The few short hours of the sunlight have melted the snow, but soon Jack Frost creeps out and freezes the water. The ice is nut silver and clean as a lake but dirty and muddy from the heavy traffic that continually passes over it. The stores are brilliantly lighted and decorated with Christmas trees and green and red ribbons. Everyone is hurrying. Nobody minds if he is jostled, because everyone is happy with Christmas near. The Country The scene is entirely different here. The sleigh glides swiftly over the snow nacked roads and by white fields, past a red farmhouse sheltered by the wooded hills. The house looks warm and cosy though just above it the leaf- less branches of the trees are tossing in a cold wind. In the small village the little white church, the general store and the small cottages are all covered by the same white blanket. The people are going to and fro exchanging holiday greetings, for they too, know that Winter brings with it the anni- versary of the birth of the Christ child. The Sea Coast The waves dash high on the wintry coast. The lighthouse stands out cold and dark against the laden sky. There is a tang of the sea in the air. The old fishermen no longer stand on the wharf telling tales of the sea but hobble toward the general store to sit around the fire and tell their yarn familiar to every member of the vil-

Page 10 text:

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