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

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THE (] R E E N AND WHITE 5 LITERARY “REFLECTIONS” It’s ended now. Queer how things have a habit of ending. Yet when I first started my high school education I thought it would never end. How many afternoons I have sat at the window studying just wishing that I could leave my hooks and go out for a stroll. But no. I would have to sit there and study and it was then that I hated school the most. And how I would hail the summer vacation! Such a feeling—no school for two months! But those two months went all too fast. But that—that was long ago. I’m older now and 1 look back at the years 1 spent in high school and wish I could live them over again. Especially, the last two years for it was then that I first began to really appreciate how happy I was in high school. It was then that I first lost my shyness of my classmates and began to realize that they were all humans like myself and wanted to be friends. It was then that I first took pride in the different games the school played, baseball, football, basketball, and track. What a feeling to know that just by a few cheering words you helped your school to win. And what pride you felt when they did win ! You were part of that school and you helped them to win. And then the different school functions. What fun planning for them and attending them and knowing that you were really part of them. But—it’s over now. never again will I have that feeling of belonging. I can go to the school games and functions—ves—but somehow I know I will have that feeling of not being right in the heart of things. It is a situation that we all must face sooner or later and make the best of. and then we will realize that time brings happiness and sweet memories when all else has gone. AGNES FAY. ’28. THE WHY OF IT Many people wondered why I broke off with my fiancee. I suppose it will leak out sometime, so—why not now? A month ago 1 went to see my Cecilia. I rang the bell and walked in. There on the couch waiting for me was my pet. When I sat down she walked over and sat on my lap. She looked into my eyes and I looked into her’s, then she snuggled closer. 1 lifted her up and blew gentle into her eyes—she merely winked. Then I petted her—she seemed to like it. Suddenly, without warning, she leaped at me, tore my clothes, spat at me. She leaped again but missed and fell with a thud to the floor. I threw the Circle of Knowledge at her; I threw the dictionary, the “Encyclopedia Britannica” at her—but with no avail. 1 begged for mercy. called her name, ran about the room looking for something to park my size 84 shoes on. I saw a place of safety, i leaped for the table—crash! I only broke the lamp and the vase. I jumped at the chandelier but missed. My excitement had somewhat cooled off and I p. ked up a log from the fireplace and used Cecilia's great grandmother's picture as a shield. I watched her as she sat on the floor. Great was my amazement when I saw in the door—no, it wasn't Santa Claus or Rip Van Winkle. I'll give you three guesses—it was my spouse-to-be—Cecilia. What do you think this is—a gymnasium? she asked in a harsh voice which sounded like the screeching of chalk on a blackboard. Then I told her how I stroked Topsie, Cecilia’s pet cat. and how she leaped at poor little me. Thereupon she said in a voice which sounded like two files being rubbed together : Reginald, I am ashamed of you. I do not wish you to return until Ivory soap sinks.” With a bowed head and pale face I took my leave. The next night I trapped Topsie into a bag and took her to Silver Creek. Before I rowed out into the bounding bav. I said to Topsie in a voice like the Silver Masked Tenor, “Fear not Topsie, it is I, Reggie.” I rowed to a spot where the water was the deepest and while singing “Oh, How Can I Leave Thee, I threw Topsie into the briny deep. The next feature on our program will be the Ingersoll Incorrect Time. When the gong strikes it will be 8:30 P. M. Standard Time, and 8:10 P. M. Easter Standard Time which is one hour later than Standard Time. C-O-L-T. RAYMOND MAKOWSKY. '30 AN APPRECIATION Miss Callan has a beaming smile. She isn’t very tall; She hasn't grown for quite a while, In fact she is rather small. She has hazel eyes and auburn hair. But what one notices most Is how for her the pupils care. To be her friend is each one's boast. She is nicest to those who are behind In French or anything else. And if you go to her you'll find Help you get nowhere else. She treats her pupils fair and square, Her room is open wide—do call. For she never, never seems to care How great the demands that are made by all. I hope some day you will meet her, Perhaps you already have; Surely you will like her better, One of the best we have. She is a symbol of the spirit In the Colt Memorial High, And always will be remembered By her pupils as the years roll by. CHARLES PENDLETON. '30.

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EDITORIAL STAFF Standing, left to right—Russell Akin, Miss Annie D. Sisson, Margaret Cicereh a, Raymond Makowsky and Beatrice Dubuc. Seated, left to right—Miss Sadie C. Cal an. Faculty Adviser; Henry S. Mason. Hattie C. Manley, Hester Eisenstadt, Elvira W. Oberg, Herbert B. Burnham, Jr., Helen Byrnes.

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6 THE GREEN AND WHITE SPORTSMANSHIP A piece of Captain Jim’s mind. “Hello boys, what’s all this wind about? By gollv, I never heard such a chatter. You sound like a hunch of India’s sacred apes, that ye do. Come on now, can that gah and one of ycz tell me what is it all about. Sportsmanship is it ; well 1 never sailed on her hut.— what’s that. oh. go ahead. laugh, you don’t hear a joke as good as that too frequent. All through? Wal. as I was saying, I never shipped on her, hut I’m always glad to hear about any new vessel. Sportsmanship, y’ know boys, pears to me she ain’t a new one at-tall, just an old boat with a new name. What’s her old one? Why. I used to call her by several, but the best one’s Common Sense—just plain, ordinary common sense. What d’you think about it? Bill, what’s your meaning for sportsmanship? Hum. bein’ a good loser, eh, losing a race, or a fight, or your gal. without cryin’ about it. I suppose, and not actin’ mad, or as if your ship was sunk, and your best friend drowned, eh ? Mebbe so, sounds all right, got a good set of sails, spars seem to be strong, bottom’s good and clean, sure, she looks good; but there ain’t no wind. She won’t go a-tall. A feller can be that kind, and still be a blame poor sport. I ain’t done much winnin’; but what little I have. I find it’s just as hard to take right as losin’. Nothin’s easier than to get too big for your hat. if you win a good hard fight of any kind. Unless you’re the right kind of boy—’scuse me, mv mistake,—the right kind of man, you’re liable t’ get pretty chesty, and slap y’r self on th’ back, and mavbe get too high up in the clouds t’ speak to old Cap’ll Jim even, when you win the football game bv a two-mile run f’r a knockdown; what’s that? Oh. all right, f’r a touchdown then; don’t interrup’ me when I git sailin’ along at a good clip. I’m li’ble to jibe and break a spar,—well, as I was sayin’, you win the game by a touchout and act so puflfed up about it.that you do lose all your friends. You got to be a good sport to guard against that. And suppose you’re playin’ your best, and somebody else makes a mistake. You couldn't help it. but the game’s lost. If you’re a good sport, you won’t land on him with both feet, as the savin’ goes, and make fun of him and laugh at him, and make him mis’rable. iust because he made a mistake. That’s certainly common sense. Remember, you may make the next mistake, then where’ll you be? Then suppose you get in a fight. If you hit below the belt, or don’t fight fair, remember. the other fellow will be at liberty to do the same, and ten to one. he’ll do it. Sufferin’ catfish! I said I’d be home at 12 o’clock, and here ’tis ’most one. I'll have to hurry if I want my dinner hot. Just remember bovs, you’ll get what you give every time. Fight hard, but fight fair; be a game loser, and a modest winner, and you’ll come out on top. S’long boys, see you later. HENRY MASON, ’29. THE MERIT SYSTEM One day, at the beginning of thrt 1927-1928 school year, Mr. Lane, our principal, assembled the student body and faculty in the auditorium. He had what he felt was an important announcement to make. He announced that he was going to attempt to put into operation a Merit System. This system was to distinguish the all-around school activity students from those that did not co-operate and participate in school activities. This Merit System, as previously stated, was to consist of aM school activities, namely, scholarship, attendance, tardiness, banking, outside reading, school plays and organizations, sports, and other similar school activities. Although the intelligent and athletic students had an advantage, every pupil had an equal chance to win honors. The process of this plan was to be as follows: Each individual was to receive, if lie excelled in the above mentioned school activities. a certain number of points (graded as to their importance). The results were to b-determined bv finding the total number of points one had acciuired during a certain period of time, and the three bovs and three girls of each class that had scored the highest number of points were to be rewarded by receiving a certificate of merit. This Merit System has been in operation throughout th° school vear, and has succeeded. Manv puoils who would not hav excelled in scholarship alone, have had their abilities recognized. NICHOLAS PIRRI, ’28. MY IDEA OF SUCCESS What profits the gambler with his winnings? What profits the fool with his pranks? What profits the man with an umbrella on a desert, and what good does it do a man to have arms, legs, eyes and mouth, if he doesn’t bring these into use to attain something? At the age of seventeen or eighteen, a person gets his chance in life. Docs opportunity knock at the person’s door? Or does he have to knock at opportunity’s door? That’s it. He has to knock on opportunity’s door but where can he find it in order to knock? He finds it in his own will-power, his own soul. Now that he has found his opportunity shall he stop there or continue on? He must go ahead; so long as he is on the right road to success. The footprints of others who have turned back must not influence him. He should jump into the track of someone who has attained success. He is the man who has trod that road and left his course clear for one to follow. One who follows his footprints will get there, to success. He may have had to stop in that road to jump over a muddy hole but he will not forget. After a severe snow-storm or rain, the sun will always shine. JOSEPH NAVACK. ’29.