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

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6 THE GREEN AND WHITE A DOUBLE WEDDING The Wintings were prosperous: they owned a Colonial cottage at Newport. Old J. H. was a successful attorney. Mrs. Wintings always poured at the Bowside Club's teas and mastered a lorgnette skillfully ; Bud had “made” the fraternity his first year at Yale, and Helen (pronounced He leen by her mother) had just completed her year at the most exclusive finishing school New York offered and Chester Moright had taken her to the Harvard-Yale game last season. When Helen arrived at Springlodge, their Newport home, she met the family at dinner. After a tete-a-tete Mr. Wintings, clearing his throat, said, “Well, Helen you are now twenty years old; when your grandmother was twenty my father was through courting her and they were married.” “Father, do you mean to insinuate that you desire that I marry?” questioned Helen indignantly. “Now, Sis, father meant well but he did not have the power, or nerve, to express himself. He thinks you should marry because, because—well simply because grandmother did,” declared Bud, the “would-be” peace-maker. “Now, dear, Chester Moright”—started Mrs. Wintings. “But mother,” interrupted the daughter, “I am tired of hearing his name. He does not interest me. He is not my idea of what a husband should be. I don’t want to be reminded of his wealth. When I marry, I will not marry money. I am not inclined to marry for money, simply love.” With a little shrug of her shoulder and wave of her hand she walked through the French window to the porch. That ended Helen’s troubles for a time but the following day she was at the pier swimming and her brother whispered—“Good for you, Sister, I don’t want you to marry Ches. He is all right but the world’s wrong. Won’t you enlighten me as to your ‘Perfect Man’ type?” Bud, I’d love to. Get the canoe and we will take a little paddle, answered Helen, brightening up at the thought of her dear ninteen-years-old brother taking such a kindly interest. As they drifted along the water, Helen, paddling the canoe in clean, even strokes, said, “He is a brunette, six feet, two inches in height, and has the manners of a Chesterfield. He swims, rides, skates, plays golf, and tennis, and is not afraid of work and really works. Furthermore, he believes and worships God as so manv men of this century have forgotten to do. She, herself, was an excellent example of American girlhood, her bathing suit of brown jersey doing justice to her athletic figure and tanned skin. “Helen, do you think you will find him— I mean find that he is someone that loves you?” inquired her brother. “Bud, you know Ned Brightman, from Heason Institute of Technology, who is studying the textile business at Sax Stones Mills in Bristol,” replied the girl. He is certainly one hundred per cent., has the Phi Beta Kappa key and many other honors. He lacks nothing—nothing but money,” spoke Bud, losing enthusiasm at his last remark. Shame! I little thought you would be so silly—money, money, I am not marrying for money. I am going over to my charming little house this afternoon and get accustomed to my new mode of living. I must clean the paint, wash windows, hang pictures, tack screens, and do a number of little things that Ned won't have time to bother about. No, I am not going to take our poor old Joe, or the chauffeur, to help me, but you may c6me and let your sister show you a few examples of her housecraft ability,” happily remarked Helen. Helen’s house was ready, her simple trousseau completed, her mother almost reconciled to her poor marriage, and her wedding had arrived. It was the most perfect day for a bride, the sun shone brightly and a light breeze cooled the summer air; on the whole such a day makes one have a happy heart to think he had such a world to live in. As she and her husband, who looked more like a handsome big brother, left the garden, where they had just been married, her father came toward them laughing slyly and joyfully. “My little daughter has had a double wedding,” said he. Why dad, what do you mean? questioned Helen in bewilderment. Oh you married the “Perfect” man and also money,” Mr. Wintings declared as he opened a large envelope and took a sheet of paper and read the following: DEAR MR. WINTINGS: Mr. Edward Brightman, a young man of excellent character, invented a weaving machine of the finest type authorities have ever seen and worked until late at night, and sometimes until dawn, to make it a “big thing,” a success,—something worth while. Realizing the profit derived from the above mentioned machine, I stole it from his workshop last month, planning to use it myself. I am now dying and I want to make repentance to the man—the greatest man, workman, technologist, and gentleman in my factory—whom I tried to cheat by keeping his machine which is wrapped care-

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THE GREEN AND WHITE 5 AN INTERVIEW WITH THE PRESIDENT 1 had taken a new resolution to study my history, so directly after supper I began. The lesson was about Lincoln’s administration. At 10 o'clock I went to bed still thinking of the history, quite sure that I would know it the next day. In the morning 1 heard some one calling me very loudly. I ran down stairs to find the family in the dining room. Father was reading the morning Journal when 1 entered. “Congratulations, Marjorie,” said he, laying the Journal down. For what, Dad?” I asked. “Why don’t you know that you have been chosen to represent your high school at a conference in Washington? There will be one girl from every high school in the United States. Aren’t you proud to represent the Colt High School?” 1 certainly am,” 1 said, “but I didn’t know about the conference before.” “It was supposed to be a surprise,” lie told me. “Your mother has been planning for you, so all you will have to do is to go to Providence and there you will meet several other girls. Then, take the train for Washington. You will have to hurry because you have slept over time.” I took the 8.20 train from Bristol and arrived in Providence at 9 o’clock in time to catch the 9.05 for Washington. It was raining and as 1 got tired of looking out of the window, I dozed off to sleep. It seemed that I slept for about ten minutes when someone tapped me on the shoulder, and 1 awoke to find all the passengers getting off the train. I did likewise. To my dismay 1 lost my pocketbook. I thought that I would ask the President to lend me some money to get home again so I inquired the way to the White House. The girls who were on the train with me had disappeared; so I was left alone with my troubles. I started off for the White House and was met at the door by a man in a swallow-tail coat. He told me that Mr. Lincoln was busy, but w'ould probably see me in five minutes. I thought it would not be a bad idea to explore the White House while I waited, as it would probably be the last chance I'd have. For five minutes I walked up and down the corridors peering into every room that was open. Left to myself, I began to think things strange. The man who had met me at the door had told me that Mr. Lincoln would see me. If I had been living perhaps fifty or seventy-five years before this would not have seemed strange, but to go to the White House in 1923 and he told that would see Mr. Lincoln was very queer. 1 had expected to see President Harding, of course. Every one knew that Lincoln was dead years ago. Everything seemed confused. The man returned then and said that the President would see me at once. What President? I asked myself. I followed the man into a large room and saw President Lincoln seated at a desk. 1 looked again to make sure it was he. He arose and came toward me. How do you do, my little girl,” said he. “What can f do for you?” I was so surprised that I didn’t know what to say. I could only smile. “How do you like our city?” he asked. “Very well, thank you,” I managed to say. “Well, well, my child, time is precious. What can I do for you?” he asked in a gruff voice. “I would like to have you tell me about the Lincoln-Dottglas debate, please. We have to know all about it for our history lesson tomorrow' and I wish you would tell me about it.” “Well, I will tell you. It was a great day —” he started. Just then a loud crash came and the building collapsed. Somewhere in the distance I could hear someone speaking very quietly at first. “Yes, I don’t know whether she has sleeping sickness or not, but I’ve been calling her for at least four hours. Slowly I opened my eyes. My mother and father were standing beside the bed looking at me. “Whatls the matter?” I asked. “Nothing, except that it is one o’clock and you have been in bed five hours too long.” Well. I’m too late for history class anyway,” I said as I slowdy got up. MARJORIE BURGESS, ’23.

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THE GREEN AND WHITE 7 fully in a green blanket in my safe which is locked and the key lost. I also want this man, my friend, and benefactor, to enjoy the riches I have enjoyed; therefore I bequeath to him and his wife, your daughter, my entire fortune. You, I know, are the father-in-law of the best example of an American Ideal or what the English call “A Man’s Man” and his wife, the finest example of a girl that had to fight a finishing school and the social butterfly stage of life and came on top as a sensible little wife of a working man. “You rascal, you never told us you were a genius,” broke in Mr. Wintings as he threw aside the paper he had been reading. Why, my dears, the name of Mr. and Mrs. Brightman will be as famous as that of Shakespeare or Bernhardt.” “Poor old Mr. Sax was getting feeble and I knew he did not do this while in perfect mind so I have waited, sometimes becoming anxious, but always realizing the better qualities of a man is sure to outdo the weaker. I have the key to his safe. I found it at my door and I saw his name on it, so kept it until I was told to go after my little toy machine, which is a “big thing,” said Ned. “You did not tell me your secret, Ned,” quietly said Mrs. Brightman. “No, darling, I knew we both would be happier if you married me thinking I was not wealthy,” declared Ned, comfortingly. “Nevertheless, I want to live in our little house and do my own work. Well, daddy, I did not marry money knowingly.” emphatically remarked Helen. “No. no dear, you did not, but there is no denying it certainly was a double wedding,” exclaimed her father in a more emphatic tone. PEGGY NERONE, '23. ------o----- LANGUAGE LAND Helen had to write a theme. How she detested them, and it was such a nice day for a hike. Well. Helen began to sing softly, swinging back and forth in the hammock under the apple tree. The air was heavy with the odor of lilacs. Soon she became drowsy and—where was she? This was surely a queer spot. An immense field stretched out before her; queer little figures darted here, there and everywhere. Some looked like Question Marks, others like Dashes. “How funny,” laughed Helen aloud, “I never saw such funny little people. Where can I be? Is this the land of pigmies?” Helen started to walk towards a beautiful flower-bed which she could see in the distance when suddenly from behind the shrubbery out darted a queer little individual, who, approaching Helen, bowed low and said, “Pardon me, fair stranger, you appear lost. May I be of any assistance?” “I— I— I— am,” replied Helen. “I started out to write a theme, but suddenly—” “Oh ! Oh! don’t be alarmed, you are in the very best place imaginable. This is the land of flowery language. Let me introduce myself, I am Sir Knight of the Question Mark; and if you want me to, I would gladly conduct you all around our domain, answering all questions. Let us proceed.” Oh! here comes my good friend, Sir Knight of the Common Nouns. A most illustrious family. Ah ! his beautiful daughters are with him. Have you met them? No? Well let me introduce them—Collective, Abstract and Verbal. These children are most famous—and are received in the very best of society. Occasionally, they are much abused and misunderstood, but as you know that is the price of popularity.” “Their names sound very familiar,” said Helen. “And their cousins, the Pronouns,” he continued. “There are many branches to this family, but the most popular are the I, You and He branch. I is most illustrious, ruling the world with his most powerful will. I must always have first place, You must take second place, and He must always rank third. I am sorry to relate, however, that there are many hard cases in this family—” “Oh yes, I know that,” interrupted Helen. “Our teacher is always harping on Dative and Accusative.” Helen and her companion, Sir Knight of the Question Mark, walked on through many mysterious lanes until finally they came to some queer little people whom the Knight introduced as the Verb Family, remarking that some members of this family were quite Active while others were more Passive. Just then a shrill cry was heard. In answer to Helen’s inquiring look her guide explained that two members of the family, I Can and I Won’t were having a quarrel. “It’s quite disgraceful how stubborn I Won’t is,” said the Knight, “but I Can has the most wonderful disposition, and his progress for that reason is most remarkable. I Won’t will never set the world afire.” As the quarrel was getting too noisy, Helen and her companion moved on. They then walked into a tiny little building where an entertainment was in progress. Here they found Lady Adjective and her cousin Lady Adverb. Helen’s guide explained that the retinue of Lady Adjective was very large, some of the members