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

Page 6 text:

BOARD OF EDITORS Deft to right, satnding: W. West, M. Securo, H. Mason. R. Makowsky, S. Bennett, H. DeWolf. M. Passing. Sitting: Miss Callan, adviser: J. Pagnano, E. Clarke, R, Akin, H. Byrnes, J. Gilroy, Miss Sisson, alumni editor.

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THE GREEN AND WHITE VOL. 1. JUNE, 1929 No. 1 ISSUED RY THE STUDENTS OF THE COLT MEMORIAL HIGH SCHOOL, BRISTOL, R. I. Editor-in-Chief—RUSSELL R. AKIN. Associate Editor-in-Chief RAYMOND M AKOWSKY Business Manager HENRY S. MASON Assistant Business Manager MICHAELSECURO Circulation Manager JENNIE GILROY Assistant Circulation Manager MILTON BASSING Senior Editors HELEN BYRNES HAROLD DeWOLF ESTHER CLARK Junior Editors STANLEY BENNETT CAMILLA CASTRIOTTA Sophomore Editors WILLIAM WEST GENEVIEVE PAGNANO LITERARY SHIPWRECK The cavernous heavens were rent by vivid bursts of lightning. which revealed great waves battering lofty cliffs in the back- ground. There were reverberating crashes of thunder, the angry beat of an angered ocean upon immovable rocks. Then we saw .rolling violently before the infuriated typhoon, a small barkantine, such as is used by pearl traders of the atolls. Her forecastle was covered by the jib and broken foremast. The mainmast was stripped of its shrouds. Aft, clinging to the powerless wheel, was a white bit of something or other. As the wave-washed vessel approached, the white rag became a piece of senseless humanity, the last being on this ship fated to be pounded by the heartless storm gods on those hardened cliffs. The stem of the craft plowed onto a submerged rock; there was a sickening crash; the winds howled their delight. Then the God of All rose, lifted his hand, called on the producers of the lightning, the thunder, the waves to stop. They stopped. You have guessed it—this Neptune was none other than Director Dinks of the Thistle Thriller Motion Picture Corporation. R. AKIN, ’29. MR. BRIGHTMAN’S DAY “Hello. Mr. Brightman, how arc you this morning? Say, do you mind if I park this package in here ’till after school?” “All right, right in this corner, I'll get it at one-fifteen. Thanks, a lot.” “O, Mr. Brightman.. do you know where I can find Mr. Cornell? Miss Bradford wants some clips.” “Oh. Mr. Brightman, come up to Room 2 right away. There’s an awful odor there. It’s nearly driving Miss Sisson out. They’ve got it in Room 1 too. Say Mr. Brightman, Henry Mason’s painting some benches. Think that’s it? “Oh, Mr. Brightman, Room 5 is too cold; it won't warm up at all.” Mr. Brightman, may I have the key to the office? I want to use the phone. Yes, it’s an in-town call.” “Mr. Brightman, where can I get some gray cloth, two benches, some new plugs, an extension cord, or almost anything else?” 'Here they are. I’ll get you some. I’ll be right up.” Ts it any wonder that we all love Mr. Brightman ? H. MASON, ’29.

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THE GREEN AND WHITE 5 SCHOOL SPIRIT As I write this theme, Memorial Day looms up in my mind. We are going to observe it and drudge around in the graveyard a bit. We have a purpose in it, for laid away there in a hole which was hurriedly dug, is one who formerly paced the halls of this school. It is many years since he died, poor fellow, and the spot where he lies is thick-grown with grass and weeds. Bushes grow and flourish at the foot of his grave and near his head is an old stone slab, placed there, no doubt, as a weight to prevent his reappearance. On the headstone there is an inscription which we always like to read, for it gives us a chance to ponder. It says : “Here lies the body of Colt Memorial High School Spirit; He passed away from lack of nourishment, A good man—Too bad he died.” “He passed away from lack of nourishment.” We cannot understand why such an inscription should be engraved there. Surely it couldn’t have been intentional. Almost every school has one of his kin and its graduates look back and cherish his memory. It is his tribe that has taken the drabness from the daily grind at school, and has fostered fellowship among students. It is the memory of some one of the School-Spirit family that makes the eyes of old graduates light up when their school is mentioned—makes them remember; not the looks of the building and the rooms, but the friendships and common purposes that make the school feel like home. As we stand there in the graveyard the thought comes that this spirit beneath our feet could have been no exception, no disgrace to his family. We have talked to more than one graduate of Colt High School and the deceased seems to linger and have a tender spot in the heart of each. Yes, he was a good man— too bad he died. His clan is numerous. If we but desire it, another Spirit may pace the halls. It means a little more effort on our part, a little more interest in school affairs. It also means enjov-meant in our work and a real school life to look back upon in future days. Let us procure a new School-Spirit, moving around through our school. He’ll be a somewhat fussy old chap; we’ll have to cater to him a little, and we’ll have to feed him well. But he will put much more pep and a new zest into the atmosphere. ESTHER CLARKE, ’29. HIS NIBS Hold to the man with Pilgrim’s feet. Even at the river’s brink; from Near and far we hear his voice Resounding through the ether moist, Youthful arrogance in his tone, even when he walks alone. Making the most of his teacher’s patience, Awing all with quick emotions, Solving problems with conscience bad Owing all to his gift of gab, Needless to say that when he ceases talk, We all feel in need of a good lengthy walk. HAROLD DeWOLF, ’29. A MISTAKE IN PUNCTUATION Under an old elm tree were seated two business men. Mr. Loyd was trying to induce Mr. Jones to buy some stock. Mr. Loyd said there was not a chance of failing. He also said a large fortune could be made if he invested one thousand dollars in the stock.. Mr. Jones, feeling quite undecided, asked Mr. Loyd if he would give him a week to think it over. To his satisfaction, Mr. Loyd agreed. The next morning Mr. Jones wrote a letter to his best friend asking his advice about the matter. He told in the letter all about the stock, the price, etc. He also asked if the price was too high. Mr. Jones, when involved in a problem that was hard for him to decide, always wrote to this friend and asked his advice. Two days later, he received the answer. It was very brief, but that did not matter because Mr. Jones knew that his friend was a great business man, and did not have time to write long letters. However, the answer he gave was enough to satisfy Mr. Jones. The brief answer was: “No price too high.” Mr. Jones, thinking this the best advice, invested the thousand dollars. About three months later he found out the stock had failed. Mr. Jones did not know what to do so he decided to consult his friend again. Instead of sending a letter, he went personally. He told his friend the stock had failed. His friend then said, “I told you not to invest the money, and why didn’t you listen to me.” Then a quarrel began. Mr. Jones told his friend he had told ihm to invest the money. The outcome was that his friend wanted to see the letter he had written. Fortunately, he had kept the letter and he had it with him. He took it out of his pocket and gave it to his friend. After the friend had read it over once, he instantly realized what he had done. He had neglected to put a comma after the word “No,” this making the sentence have a different meaning. The sentence should have read “No, price too high.” “And to think,” said Mr. Jones, “that just for a little comma. I have lost one thousand dollars.” You may be sure, that even though the friend was a great business man, he always, after that awful mistake, read his letters twice before having them mailed, so as to make sure no marks of punctuation were forgotten. ANTONETTA POLI, ’31. COMPLIMENTS OF HOPE DRUG CO. “THE REXALL STORE” W. V. Barnes, Prop. 420 Hope Street Bristol, R. I.