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

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12 THE GREEN AND WHITE We held several dances which were decidedly successful. One evening the Brown orchestra gave us a very pleasing entertainment which was well patronized. In March we held a food sale, and after the supper was served, dancing was enjoyed by the pupils. The school orchestra, under the direction of Miss Sullivan, furnished music. Our class play, “Daddy-Long-Legs,” was presented by a talented group of Seniors, assisted by several talented Freshmen. It certainly was enjoyed by all those who saw it and was a great success. As May dawned, again we decided to go on another May walk. We met in front of the school at 7:00 A. M., and started on a hike to Mount Hope. We ate our lunch on the “White Rocks,” and returned home at 3:00, fatigued and exhausted. We are getting ready for graduation, so our good times as a class in C. M. H. S. are over, but we sincerely hope that the little advice wafted in on the September breezes of four years ago, “to take our place in the ranks or men, and always the honor of C. M. H. S. sing,” will be upheld by every member of the Class of 1924. MARGUERITE BOOTH, Historian of the Class of 1924. ------o----- THE DANGER SIGNAL The month of October in the year 1893 was a very unsettled period for the little town of Bristol. The streets of the town had become rivers of muddy water, and our old friends, Ambrose E. Brunswick said it was the worst month he had seen in seventy five years. About six o’clock on the twenty-eighth day of the month, a young man about twenty-five years of age was seen walking down Franklin street toward the railroad station. He reached there just in time to catch the six o’clock train to Providence. In a half hour’s time he arrived in the big city and there commenced his night’s run on the P. W. B. Railroad, running old Number 6, better known as the famous F. M. Weld. This engineer had never missed a day since he began his career as a railroad man. He had seen many storms, but none as bad as the one of the twenty-ninth of October. In those days, the conductors were allowed to go up and talk to the engineer at each station, so as the old Number Six stopped at Warren the conductor, namely, Joseph Bosworth, went up and started to talk to our friend, who we cherish so much today. During the conversation, this conductor asked T. P. B. if he thought it had cleared off for good. “Well, I hope so,” was the answer. “I nearly ran by two Red Eyes night before last.” It was about the worst trip I ever put in on two rails.” “Yes,” said Mr. Bosworth, “it was a ripper. I understand there were two washouts at Readville. “I wouldn’t wonder,” was T. P. B.’s answer. “I understand that a dam broke there early in the evening.” “I didn’t hear a word about it,” said Mr. Bosworth. “But I known this much, if that is true those old bridges will go.” “Well, I certainly hope not,” said our friend. I have to go over that bridge tomorrow.” “If the water hits the cement, it will go like so much mud.” “What makes you think so?” “Think so? I know so,” said Bosworth. “Well, it is starting time,” said the conductor, and called out, “All aboard for Bristol, and then the engineer started. “Bear in mind what I have told you, Tom,” said the conductor as he retreated. After reaching Bristol, the locomotive was turned toward Providence again, where it was backed into the round-house. The thirtieth of October our friend was right on his seat ready to start for Readville. The fireman had shoveled on the coal and the train was now ready to go. But at that moment our young friend got a message from the Master Mechanic which requested his presence in the office immediately. When he reached the office, he received a more cordial reception than he had expected. “Come right in,” said the Master Mechanic. “You are Mr. T. P. B., are you not?” “Yes sir.” “You are spare man on old No. 6?” “Yes sir.” “How long have you been on the job?” “A little over six months,” was the answer. “Do you think you are capable of becoming a permanent man?” “Yes indeed, Why?” “Well, I’ll tell you. It is this way. The regular man has met with an accident and I want you to become a permanent man.” Then he grasped Mr. B.’s hand and said, “You are to pilot the old No. 6 tonight to Readville. As our esteemed friend left the office, he felt as though he were walking on air. By the way, all young men of his age do when they receive a promotion of this kind. It is always customary for the engineer to inspect his engine before leaving, and also to oil it up, and this is what young B. did. It was going to be the thrill of his lifetime, as the President’s car was on the rear, and he told his fireman to do his best in keeping up steam, and to tidy up the cab as he expected the President to inspect the

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C. M. H. S. DEBATING CLUB Top Row, left to right—J. Burns, G. Grice, R. Passing, D. Wall, C. McHugh, B. Tucker, E. Moore, C. Keating, Leahy, N. Benard. Bottom Row, left to right—Mrs. Clark, President Sidney Makowsky, C. Nussenfeld, C. Pay, L. Kenney, C. Serbst, Horton, R. R. Strong. V. F.

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THE GREEN AND WHITE 13 locomotive at the end of the journey. “I’ll do my best,” was Mr. Greene’s answer. At just 7:20 our friend received the green lantern signal and the old locomotive rolled gracefully into the station where the President’s car was coupled onto the end of the eighth Pullman. There stood the old engine with her proud engineer and the eight cars with the President’s car at the rear. It was a sight to behold and the young engineer’s heart thrilled at the thought of his journey. It was now time to start on the journey to Readville. The train pulled out of the station very gracefully and gained speed at each turn of the wheels. It increased from 40 miles an hour until by gradual ascent it reached the speed of 75 miles an hour. It continued to go at this rate until it reached Dare Devil’s Curve, where Mr. B. noticed a Red Eye flashing frantically in front of him. He applied his brakes and then the emergencies, until the train was brought to a dead halt, just a hundred feet from the fallen bridge. This stop meant the saving of over a hundred lives, as well as the train and locomotive. After the excitement had subdued. Mr. B. went back to sec where the signal man was, and greatly to his surprise he found after a long search that the danger signal had been caused by a small bird which had become lodged in the headlight and was trying to get out. As I have not told who the engineer was, I will first say that this story is not true, but is especially written for the Green White for the benefit of our beloved friend, Mr. Brightman, a veteran of two rails. NORMAN BENARD, ’25. ------o----- THE REFLECTION IN THE MIRROR John Abbot was very old. He was the wealthiest man in the town. He had many queer ideas and once he had formed a plan he would not change his mind under any circumstances. No one knew from where he got his money or when. The only thing that was known was that he possessed millions. The one person who he cherished above all others was his grand daughter, Marguerite, who was his only relative. John Abbot often would laugh and say to Marguerite, “Life won’t always be so easy; you will have to work hard someday or starve.” Marguerite thought this was a great joke. She often thought afterwards what he meant by this; but these thoughts did not worry her long; and she would go out with a number of her friends and forget them. There was one man whom she had re- cently met at a party, who interested her particularly. He seemed well educated. By his conversation she learned that he had been to Harvard. He was very tall and had brown hair that waved slightly. He was so tall that whenever Marguerite stood beside him, she appeared to be very small. His name was Edward Sargent. One day old John Abbot died suddenly. His death was a shock to the whole town. Marguerite, who before this time did not know what trouble was, was especially saddened. She had a great many friends to console her, but the one who was always ready to help most was Edward Sargent. Not long after this the will was read. The beautiful estate was willed to Marguerite but the money would not be so easy to get. The will said that the money was hidden somewhere in the house. John Abbot expressed his desire to have Marguerite search for it without any outside help. It also stated that until she found the money she would have to find some kind of employment. Marguerite trembled at the thought of this; for what kind of work could she do? Now she knew what her grand father meant when he said, “Life won’t always be so easy; you will have to work some day or starve.” All that night these words rang through her head. She pictured herself as a stenographer, as a dressmaker, as a mill-worker, and a dozen other things; but she coud not fulfill the requirements of any of them. She arose the next morning after a sleepless night determined to find the money. Her faithful maid, Marie, offered to assist her; but Marguerite, remembering the words of the will reluctantly, refused her aid. She decided to start in the attic and search every nook down to the cellar. This seemed to her the only logical thing to do. In the attic she opened all the trunks, moved everything, hunted for trap doors; she even found a way out in the roof. At last she gave up in despair. The next day she was going to search the second floor. That evening Edward Sargent called. Marguerite told him of her search. He offered to help her but this Marguerite refused to let him do. First of all, the next day she ransacked her grand father’s bedroom and his private den which was the next room. In his desk she hunted for any papers which might help her. She found one paper with some strange lettering on it and also there was a tiny arrow on the right corner of the paper and on the arrow was printed the word, “Gold.” Marguerite examined this paper closely, turning it all ways but she could make nothing of it. She