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

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CLASS OF 1930

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12 THE GREEN AND WHITE LISHEN, A HEROINE Lishcn tried to look very merry as she sat on the bench in a park in Germany, with a violin under one arm, and a crutch in her hand. She had been to the master for her lesson and was resting before she continued her long walk home. As she sat there her mind was busy at work. Lishen was hoping that she might do some good deed for someone. Life was hard and dreary and Lishen was working to reach her goal. She had been reading stories about heroes and heroines. But what could a small, crippled girl of ten years do? She had always dreamed of herself as a heroine. Lishen wondered whether heroines could earn money. As she was about to leave, she happened to see a boy in the road calling for help. Lishen noticed that nobody would look at the boy and she wondered why he was not heeded. So she hobbled over and asked him what had happened. The small boy looked at her, then pushed her aside and said: You are big enough, and what can you do, a cripple? But clutching her violin tightly and feeling very sad. she happened to look up at the building near where she was standing, and she saw fire. Lishen hurried as fast as she could and found the door to the apartment. She went up the stairs and found a sick mother lying on the bed with a baby asleep in ber arms. Lishen worked fast, and aroused the mother. In her excitement, Lishen dropped her crutch down the stairs. This was a handicap because Lishen could hardly walk without the aid of her crutch. Nevertheless she hurried the mother and child from the house, and sent men to put out the fire. Through Lishen’s kindness, friends of those whom she saved became interested in her. She was sent to doctors and was cured. Lishen was a real heroine, though she did not know that through kind deeds one could become so great. SYBIL C. ANDERSON, ’31. THE FASCINATION OF WORDS What fascinating things are words! With them one may paint pictures as true and enjoyable as any product of the artist’s brush. Each word conveys a different picture. Argosies. Expeditions into the unknown. Byrd’s trip is an argosy. Lindbergh's was. Those are modern argosies. But what of the pictures called up by the word itself? White-sailed ships, moving slowly over the ocean. Loads of gold and plate; pirates! The Spanish Main. Thrills, adventure, argosies! Or the adjective sibilant. Wbat pictures that calls to mind! Mystery, darkness, rustling curtains, whispers, snakes hissing. Those things I see. Or the word thundering. A summer shower. A herd of cattle, stampeded. Guns, war, death, misery. Or the roll of drums'. Colors flying, guns firing a salute. Some great man passes by. Or the word boom. Artillery shells coming over; terror, danger. And last but not least, the popular song: “I faw down and go boom!” H. S. MASON, ’29. FLEA TIME IN FLOOD TIME The sun was setting in the west, gradually darkness was falling over the landscape before the Ark. The golden towers of Johnstown glistened in the last days of the dying sun. On the deck of the Ark. a man paced back and forth. He had no eye for the beauty of the scene before him; his whole mind seemed concentrated on his own troubles. And Noah was troubled ; he puffed angrily at his corn-cob pipe and spat frequently over the side of his vessel. He was clad in an old ulster, and on his head was a fireman’s helmet. An observant spectator would have noticed that he looked often into the sky as though in search of something, but what he saw, or rather did not see. in the calm, placid heavens above him seemed to disappoint him. for he frowned darkly and stamped heavily on the deck as though in a rage. Gradually it grew darker, but the moody figure on the deck seemed oblivious to all outside influence. From below came a discordant hum as though caused by many animals, mingled with the shrill voices of the children of Noah’s family. Suddenly the drowsv murmur was pierced by a shrill voice: “Nathan, Nathan. No answer from the solitary occupant of the deck. Abruptly a door from the cabin was opened and Mrs. Noah stepped forth. “Nathan, what’s the matter?” Noah didn’t move, a few quick puffs on his pip ' was his only answer. His wife, however, being accustomed to his moods, became silent and sat down; after having first extracted a handkerchief from her stocking, and mopped her forehead. A few minutes of silence, and then— “Its those darn fleas,' 'he said. “You know that I am supposed to bring only two of every kind of living creature, and there are millions of this type. I can't use any flea remover for fear of killing off a certain specie and the trouble is that I can’t tell the difference. 1 guess I will have to use a miscroscope.” “You forget, dear, that miscroscopes have not vet been invented,” remarked Mrs. Noah placidly, as she unstrapped her compact from about her ankle, and powdered her nose, which was a bit shiny owing to the extreme heat of the day. Noah let that pass in silence and taking a big piece of chewing gum, he chewed it thoughtfully, then, turning to his wife, he said: That's right too. Natalie, that lets us out of a lot of trouble. Since microscopes are not as yet; we can’t be expected to tell one flea from another flea. And anyway, if worst comes to worst, we can use Uncle Adam's Anchovy-Paste. That'll get rid of ’em all right. HAROLD DeWOLF, ’30. Warren Bristol Awning Shop WARREX, R. I. Awnings, Curtains, General Canvas. M. .1. Calicon. Prop. .....................................

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14 THE GREEN AND WHITE CHOLERA !! Cholera—the dreaded disease—begins with nausea, restlessness, and chilly sensations; pain in the stomach, and in the region of the heart is often severe, and sever cramps occur in the calves and arms. The victim suffers continually from thirst. Either the victim sinks into a fatal coma or improves only to contract pneumonia. The schooner “Mary Ann” lay at quarantine. She had just completed a perilous voyage from Calcutta. There, half her crew had succumbed to the scourge of the East— Cholera! Her captain had guided the ship from this hell-hole of India with only half of her regular crew. They had all breathed a sigh of relief when on a bright spring day of April, 1896, they sailed into San Francisco harbor. There she lay at anchor, straining at the hawsers which held her to the dock. No signs of activity could be seen aboard her. The crew had been duly inspected and had left the ship. Night was rapidly coming on and was enveloping her with its mantle of gray. Slowly and with great effort crawled a huge gray rat from out of a dark open porthole. It wobbled towards the large cable which was situated near the porthole. With the agility of a circus performer it perched itself upon the cable now taunt by the outgoing tide. In its intestines and coursing through the blood of the rat were millions of deadly cholera germs. There were enough of this bacteria to infect the whole rat population of San Francisco. Once the rats of the city had become infected it would not take long for the population to become infected. Slowly the creature crept forward. Hugging the cable with its fore-feet and pushing itself with its hind feet, it slowly advanced, swinging to and fro with the motion of the rope. It was now only ten feet from the dock. Twenty thousand lives perhaps hung in the balance. Only seven feet from the dock— slowly the deadly incubator advanced. Suddenly the rat hesitated. It swung to and fro. Would the rat perform its circus feat? The ship lurched—there was a splash—San Francisco was spared a cholera epidemic. R. MAKOWSKY, ’30. THE PRICE OF MADNESS The wind was howling across the vast Antarctic wastes. A blizzard was coming up, the sun was just disappearing over the horizon. It would soon be night, a real night, lasting for six months. George Gansen stood up. He looked into the distance, as he had done for the last two days, as though in search of something, but in vain. As far as the eye could reach, stretched the desolate expanse of ice and snow, unbroken by even the slightest inequality of elevation. Two days before Mt. F.robus had sunk out of sight, and since that time Gansen had struggled blindly across the frozen plains. Already he had ventured further into the great unknown than had any other man. As far as he knew no living foot had ever trod the earth where he now stood, and yet this knowledge afforded him no elation. Even now when his food was all but gone, and his sense of direction all wrong, he had no thought for his own danger. He shuddered as he recalled his predicament and compared himself as he was to what he might have been. For George Gansen had once been in very different straits than these. His father had been one of the wealthiest men of his community. George, himself, had been given every advantage money could bring. He lias been carefully educated at the very best schools and had been enrolled in one of the most exclusive colleges in America. He was very successful there, for not only was he a fine scholar. but a remarkable all-round athlete. After his graduation he entered business with his father, and after the death of the latter he continued the business and under his able direction it expanded until it became the largest of its kind in the world. Then everything changed. In twenty-four hours lie was a hunted criminal. Conditions were absolutely reversed. Where he had been one of the most envied of men he now was the mots hated and feared. For he had committed a murder. He had killed a man in cold blood, without the slightest reason. Why had he done this? Standing there, under the pitiless grev skies of Antarctica, Gansen himself couldn’t understand what had happened to him. He had been sitting in a restaurant with a business acquaintance. They were eating a steak dinner. Gansen was carving it with a great, sharp knife. He had just served his friend when he suddenlv leaned across the table and ran his knife through the throat of the unsuspecting man. After that everything was blank. He had a confused impression of dashing off down the street, of train rides and of a tramp steamer in which he was apparently sailing. Then there was a terrible storm: the ship was wrecked. Gansen alone was left alive. When the storm had cleared, he went back aboard the disabled vessel and, taking all the food be could carry, and dressing as warmly as possible he set out along the coast. When Mt. F.robus. his sole landmark, sunk out of sight, he wandered from his course into the interior. He now stood two hundred miles from the coast ,in the midst of a trackless waste in the path of an approaching blizzard. COMPLIMENTS OF DIXON LUBRICATING SADDLE CO.