Bourne High School - Canal Currents Yearbook (Bourne, MA)

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LITERARY A VISIT TO AN OLD ENGLISH INN While touring England I decided to visit an old Inn. True Englishmen call them Taverns but we will be safe in assuming that they are also much like our own road-side homes, which are justly called Inns. Having heard of the interesting facts that could be discovered in a visit to one of these, a friend and I drove to a typical old Inn located in the northern part of England. Upon arriving at our destination, we saw an old, gray house. I call it gray for courtesy’s sake. It really was a dirty white house badly in need of repainting. The house sat on the foundation much like a stout lady sitting on a small chair; it bulged over. There were several rickety, rock chim- neys; anyone seeing these immediately thought of the Lean- ing Tower of Pisa. A muddy road led the passenger to the front door. Usually he preferred to walk, well knowing that the coach or carriage would sink up to the hubs in mud. The windows were made of small panes of glass, and anyone at- tempting to look in or out of them probably would think he was looking at a dense fog, because of the dingy glass. The walls and ceilings were covered with heavy beams blackened and aged by the smoke from many a cheery fire. The floors were rough and filled with uneven cracks; any one with a spark of imagination could almost visualize a fat, red faced gentlemen with his toe securely caught in one of those large openings. Soon after our arrival, the landlord, a stout, jovial gen- tleman, went to the cellar and brought some sparkling ale for our refreshment. Having quenched our thirst we wandered through the house enjoying every bit of its quaint- ness. Finally, tiring of these interesting surroundings, we prepared to depart. Our last glimpse of the old inn proved a delightful one; for the jolly landlord with his pipe clenched between teeth, which were few and far between, stood in the doorway wav- ing us an amiable goodbye.. Jean Gale Coady, ’37.

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12 CANAL CURRENTS MERRITT, BERTHA L. Bourne G. S.; College Course; “Canal Currents” Staff (3). NEAL, CHARLES A. Bourne G. S.; College Course; Shawme Orchestra (1), (2), (3); Dramatics (2). PALMER, JANE Sagamore G. S.; Commercial Course. POLAND, ROBERT E. English High School; College Course; Football (3); “Canal Currents” Staff (3). RAYMOND, JANE Bourne G. S.; College Course; “Canal Currents” Staff (3); Shawme Orchestra (1), (2), (3); Dramatics (2). SANFORD, WILLIAM W. (Bill) Bourne G. S.; College Course; Basketball (1), (2), (3); Baseball Manager (2). SMITH, JOHN L. (Poki) Mechanics Arts High, Boston; Mechanics Course (1); General (2), (3); Football (1), (2), (3); Baseball (2); Basketball (2); “Canal Currents” Staff (3). SMITH, MARY E. Phillips Grammar School, Salem; College Course. SPENCER, CAROLYN (Cal) Bourne G. S.; College Course; Basketball (3); Dram- atics (2). TASSINARI, ANTHONY (Fazzo) Sagamore G. S.; Commercial Course; Class President (1); “Canal Currents” Staff (3). VAN BUSKIRK, EVANGELINE E. (Babe) Henry T. Wing High School, Sandwich; General Course; Field Hockey (1); Basketball (1), (2), (3); “Canal Cur- rents” Staff (3). YOUNG, AMY E. Bourne G. S.; College Course.

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14 CANAL CURRENTS SNOW “Charlie, you might, instead of reading a magazine, go out and shovel the sidewalk before the melting snov freezes and makes the walk icy!” “I suppose I might; but this is a good story — ” “Just suppose I said that every time you — 1” “All right. All right. Don’t get so excited. I suppose it will do me some good to get out!” The man of the house put on an old felt hat, a heavy coat, and a pair of gloves in preparation for the job ahead. Then the silence was broken. “Charlie, how about rubbers?” “It would be much easier to stay in and read my maga- zine,” was the answer. “Go ahead, and get a cold, but don’t ask me to give you some drops, or something to rub on your throat — except soap!” An hour later there was stamping and puffing in the back hall, and then the man enters with visions of reading in peace. Fifteen minutes of peace ensued. Again the silence was broken by a sound beginning low and ending in high C. “Charlie!” “What is wrong, now?” “Now? Why you didn’t finish the first job!” “What do you mean?” “Take a good look at that sidewalk, and tell me whether or not anyone could walk there or the car come into the driveway.” He dropped his magazine, and with a groan arose to look out the window. “Oh! that darn snow-plow has been by!” The door closed wth a bang and again the walk was shoveled, with much less vigor. Well, it was all cleared now, and with the exception of his back, he felt fine. “I’m going to read my magazine, now, even if all the snow from the North Pole slides over that sidewalk!” Again, he settled himself comfortably and took up his magazine. Hns eyes focussed on the spot where he had left off reading. — “The beautiful snow glistened — ”! Wham! he book slammed on the floor. “I’m going to bed!” Robert Poland, ’36.