Bristol High School - Green and White Yearbook (Bristol, RI)

Page 17 text:

15 THE GREEN AND WHITE Other pupils late, because “misery loves company,” but there was no one to solace me. I must tread my guilty way alone. I ran all the way to school. Breathless I arrived. The first period was in session so I had to report directly to the principal. For the second time, my heart nearly stopped beating. Timidly. I walked into the office. I tried to tell him why I was late, but as I was gasping for breath I could scarcely speak. He sent me into the auditorium to sit there until 1 was able to talk. In about ten minutes he came in and I told him frankly what had happened to me. Whether my story amused him I am unable to say, but he was not as stern as I had imagined. He smiled slightly, and I was indignant, because I had made a mountain out of a mole-hill. However, I must admit that I resolved, then and there, to get up when the alarm clock goes off. M. BURGF.SS, ’23. LANKY’S DISAPPOINTMENT Adventure! How he loved adventure 1 Everyone made fun of him because he liked to read books about murders and pirates and all kinds of bloodthirsty stories; but that didn’t bother him. Many a night “Lanky,” as the boys called him, sat in the old graveyard reading by the light of a lantern. One of his favorite sports was scaring people by pinning queer notes on their doors, or by pounding on their windows at night. He was a terror. Everyone said so, and especially his mother. Even the boys with whom he played were afraid of his queer actions. One day when he had played unusually hard with the boys, being wearied towards evening, he climbed up into the hay-loft of the barn. It was dark there, and he liked it. He could make believe that some robbers had kidnapped him and were holding him for ransom. Very slowly his eyelids began to droop, and although he tried to keep awake, he was soon deep in slumber. Suddenly he saw a large figure coming toward him. The figure was a man, and the man was a pirate! A real pirate! His hair was long and straggly, and matched his mustache. On his head was a small, red cap. He was dressed like the old pirates whose pictures “Lanky” had seen in books. His breeches went only to the knees, and his legs were bare except for a pair of boots which were very muddy. Around his neck was a chain which Lanky thought must be pure gold (he had perhaps found it in an old treasure ship which his crew had captured), and hanging from his ears were rings of the same metal. He stood with his arms folded and when he spoke his voice sounded like an old foghorn. ‘‘I heard,” he said, “that you love to read about pirates and murders. If you will follow me, I will show you my pals.” Lanky was too happy to say anything. He jumped down from the loft and followed the man. When they reached the water, they walked along the shore for a little over a mile. From the pirates’s waist hung a sword and a dagger which Lanky hadn’t noticed before. If he could only have a real weapon like that! He was just picturing himself strutting through the village with a sword in his hand and all the boys admiring him, envying him, when these arose before his eyes the hull of a large ship, anchored in the water. The pirate and Lanky got in a small boat and rowed out to the ship. The pirate climbed up on the deck, and walking to the bow of the boat, descended a small staircase. Lanky followed closely, and at the bottom of the Stairs he heard laughing and talking. There in the cabin, sitting around a table, was a gang of pirates drinking and playing cards. They looked up as their comrade entered. “Hey, Billy, did ya bring him?” asked one of them. “Here he is,” answered Billy, pushing Lanky forward. The boy stood still and stared around him. The pirates looked as though they had stepped right out of a story book. Presently one of the men arose, cleared his throat, and began to speak. “We have heard that you are very much interested in us. It is a long time since we have been to this country, but years ago our ancestors plundered ships along these coasts. There is a great treasure buried around here, and we are going to give you the chance of finding it. Here is a chart which tells just where the money is, and if you and your friends do just as it says you will have not only the adventure but also an immense fortune. Lanky could hardly believe his ears as he looked from one face to another. How glad the boys would be to hear about it. and how much fun they would have getting the treasure! Suddenly the room, the noise, and the pirates faded away, and Lanky rubbed his eyes trying to find out where he was. Everything was dark, and he was sure he heard someone calling him. “Lanky! Lanky!” shouted his mother. “Come here this minute! You’ve got to chop that wood before it gets too dark.” “Aw, gee, ma,” grunted Lanky climbing down from the loft, “I was just in the best part of a dream. Why didn’t you wait ’till I finished it?” N. MATHEWSON, ’22.

Page 16 text:

u THE GREEN AND WHITE changed. Now, it was within the wonderful old cathedral. Many lights and flowers were on the altar. The edifice was filled with men and women. A faint strain of music from the organ seemed to act as a sedative to these restless people. Soon a girl dressed in a white satin gown trimmed with marvelous lace appeared. Her veil was caught up with real orange blossoms. On her arm she carried a wonderful bouquet of sweet peas and lilies-of-the-valley. Ah 1 his wedding-day—soon he slipped the ring upon her finger and the minister gave them his blessing. Now amid the congratulations of friends they left the church. Slowly the picture vanished and now he saw four happy children seated on the floor around him waiting for a story. The eldest was a boy with very dark brown eyes and hair, dressed in a velvet suit with white satin collar and cuffs. There were two girls, one with beautiful blue eyes, and very light curls which encircled her face, the other had dark eyes and hair. They were both dressed alike in their little pink dresses with hoop skirts, their little pantaloons with ruffles of lace peeped below their dresses. The youngest, little Bobby, his father’s favorite, did not look like the other three; he was very white and thin. Gradually Bobby’s picture disappeared from the group, there was one empty place in this happy little circle— Bobby had gone to heaven. Imperceptibly the picture changed, he now saw his eldest son kissing his mother and sisters good-bye; he was dressed in the uniform of the Confederates; war was raging. Next he saw himself leaving his loving wife and daughters for the front, and after many weary weeks, months, and years of anxious waiting he finally returned home to begin life where he had left it off. Again he seemed to be in church, and the organ could be faintly heard. This time he saw his daughter, dressed as her mother had been years before, going up the aisle. He leaned forward to kiss his daughter, when his hands encountered the soft curls, and he awoke to find that his little grand daughter was asleep in his arms, and that her mother was softly playing on the old organ. E. DORIS BULLOCK, ’23. OVERSLEPT Ding-a-ling, ding-a-ling, went the alarm clock. I opened my eyes and looked at it. The hands pointed to seven o’clock. I got out of bed slowly and grabbing the clock I turned off the alarm. After this I got back intq bed thinking that I could rest a little longer before getting up. I closed my eyes for what seemed to me only ten minutes. Soon I was aroused by someone shaking me roughly. It was my sister June. “Get up, get up, you lazy girl. It’s ten minutes of eight and you’re still in bed. You will be late for sure.” My eyes popped open at this, and I jumped out of bed in a hurry. June went down stairs, leaving me to struggle with shoe strings and loose buttons. When I started to put on my left shoe the shoestring broke with a vicious snap. As I was trying to tie the ends together a vision of me going to the office, for being late to school, arose before me. In my mind I already saw the principal’s stern face looking down foreboding ill for poor me and I could hear the principal’s voice saying, “Report to me at one-fifteen.” Finally I succeeded in getting on both my shoes. I now went to wash and alas, I could not find my face cloth. I hunted everywhere for it, but finally gave up in despair, and took my sister’s. Hurriedly I washed, and then went to comb my hair. Never before did I have so many snarls to be unsnarled and so, hurriedly, I bobbed up my hair in the back. It was now ten past eight. Downstairs I could hear June telling Mother all about me. June is so precise and neat, never would she oversleep. Oh no, not June! Looking out of the window ,to my horror, I beheld a terrible sight. It was Jane Doolittle hurrying to school. Knowing that Jane is in continual disgrace on account of tardiness my heart nearly stopped beating. Surely, I would be in her class now. Hastily seizing my middy-tie, I darted out of my room, only to find that “haste makes waste.” Running down stairs, three steps at a time, I tripped on the last step and fell sprawling on the floor, just at the feet of June who was on her way upstairs to call me for the fifteenth time. She helped me up and at the same time delivered a well deserved reprimand which I failed to hear, because I rushed straight to the dining room almost knocking mother down in my haste. After swallowing some cocoa (which nearly burned my throat it was so hot) I put on my coat and was half way through the door when mother called me back to get my hat. The hat as usual was not on the rack. We hunted all over the house but that hat could not be found. I looked at the clock again. It was quarter past eight and I realized that my sentence had already been pronounced. June, calm as usual, came into the room with the hat which she had found in the waste basket. Then I remembered having put it on tlie table in the den, and I must have pushed it into the basket with some paper. With the hat in my hand I now ran out of doors. As I reached the street I looked up and down hoping that there might be some

Page 18 text:

16 THE GREEN AND WHITE AT THE BACK FENCE “Matilda White is the queerest, old maid house keeper I ever seen in all my born days,” said Mrs. Bowen to Miss Waden over the back fence. “She would rather wash her sink any Sunday than hear Parson Lawrence preach. Not saying she don’t like his preaching, but that old sink of her’n must be spick and span all the time.” “Yes,” replied Miss Waden, “she ain’t got no use for nothing but keeping her. house clean. She scrubs and sweeps the live long day. Too bad she can’t keep her soul clean besides her house. Of course I don’t mean she ain’t a good woman. She minds her own business. Well, that’s nothing, we do too. We never talk about nobody.” “Now. you know Ann Bullit, she never scrubs her house,” said Mrs. Bowen. “She goes to church every Sunday and even goes to Friday night prayer meeting. Why couldn’t she leave out prayer meeting and clean her house up once and a while? Why I went to call on her the other day and her kitchen was a mess. The sink was pack jam full o’ dishes and it was so dirty. It’s a shame she don’t wash it once in a while ’stead of talking to Mrs. Tones over the back fence all the morning. Well, anyway she’s got a clean soul.” “Well,” answered Miss Waden, “you know that fly-away Sally Smith is the limit. I saw her flirting the other day. Honest-ta-goodness flirting with that handsome lookin’ city feller. He smiled at her too. Don’t see how he could do it. Her skirts are so short I’d be ’shamed if I was her. She wears heels ’bout eight inches high and it’s a puzzle to me how she ever walks on ’em. Goodness me, her hair looks as though a nest of hornets had got a-tangled in it. I guess ya call ’em cootie—a—, I donno, something anyhow.” “Oh, yes,” answered Mrs. Bowen, “I know what you mean. Cootie nests. Ain’t them things awful. You’ll never catch my Mary wearing them things. If she does wear ’em her Pa’ll give her a good licking. Lan’ I smell my roast a-burning. Goodbye.” CATHLEEN BARTON, ’23. “THE PRINCE AND THE PAUPER” The little round, ruddy face of Henry Noonan was pressed against the glass window of Baker’s Toy Shop. In his admiration of the double ringed circus paraphernalia displayed before him, he was forgetting the fun poked at him by the other children, whose mothers didn’t have to take in washings and go out scrubbing. He didn’t mind wearing dirty ragged shirts with the sleeves cut off and unhemmed, and he rather liked going bare- foot, but he did hate to be laughed at by the other kids” who wore shoes and stockings, and pants and coats in place of dirty blue overalls. He had waited patiently for them to get through looking in Old Baker’s window, and when they had gone running away down the street to follow an organ grinder, he had run across the street as fast as his little feet could carry him, and had fastenend his gaze and interest on the wonders of the toy shop. His earnest blue eyes, shaded by heavy lashes but a trifle darker than the short chestnut curls which rolled up all over his well formed head, shifted from one brilliantly colored toy to another. Near him in the front part of the window were Humpty-Dumpty men, little fat men and women all dressed in wonderful clothes, and clowns, oh, so many clowns. Clowns on ladders, clowns with ladders on them, clowns on their heads, clowns on one foot, clowns walking on their hands, clowns making up faces at him, clowns with hats on, clown's with hats off, clowns with black faces, clowns with red faces, and lots and lots of clowns with white faces and big red spots. Over there— why there was a clown on an elephant! Little Henry stood on tiptoe to see beyond the clowns. How he wished they’d all fall down now so’s he could see the animals. He raised himself on his toes several times, but the iron grating on which he stood hurt his feet when he stood on tiptoe. A thoughtful expression flickered across his face, and the next instant he ran like a flash down the little alley next to the toy shop. In a few seconds he was coming around the corner of the shop tugging a wooden box, not a large box, but large for him. When he had it placed on the iron bars, and directly in front of the window, he jumped upon it, and gazed and gazed in open-mouthed wonder and delight. Could he believe his eyes?—a real hill with a road coming down it, and real toy houses facing the street, and, best of all, a big, real, circus parade coming down the street— with elephants, and horses, and camels, and little ponies—yes, there was a little boy leading them—and no telling how many wild tigers, and lions, and other animals that get ugly and bite, were inside all those red and yellow wagons. Oh, at first he hadn’t seen the big red wagon down near the front corner of the window. A band in it! Band men with red band suits and gold horns and things, and it was “dragged” by white horses with big red things on their heads!—their harnesses were all gold. Each second he discovered something new, and he stood there motionless for several minutes. Within him his little soul cried out, “I want it, I want it. I wonder