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

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24 THE GREEN AND WHITE EXPERIENCES OF UNCLE EBNER AT A BASKET-BALL GAME Last night 1 went through a most nerve-racking ordeal. It was brought about when 1 consented to accompany my niece to the annual basket-ball game betwen the team of her High School and that of the neighboring town. She said we had to reach the Jim' before 8 o'clock. Assuming the Jim” to be her beau, I had the forethought to take along enough money for his admission, too: 1 know the ways of High School boys; but 1 was surprised, most pleasantly, 1 assure you, on finding out that the “Jim was not a boy, but the slang abbreviation for gymnasium. We were pushed into the building by a violent mob of students, and after being admitted to the hall, I perceived a crowd of boys. They were chasing a ball the size of a pumpkin, and when one would succeed in wresting it from a fellow player, he would toss it at a small basket nailed to the wall. Every few moments a man in shirt-sieves would come out and blow a whistle. This would stop the boys, and they, I suppose, out of respect for the shirt-sleeved man’s age, ould give him the ball to play with; hut when he threw the ball it would go straight up, causing the players to jump after it and creating a small riot. The half-clothed boys tried to put the ball in the baskets nailed to the wall, but whenever they put the ball in the basket it would fall out through the bottom. I suppose if the “Town Meeting had given more money to the School Department our children could have baskets with bottoms in them. Now and then the man in shirt-sleeves, getting mad, would blow his whistle, and when the boys would give him the ball he wouldn’t plav. but would go off to a corner of the room and keep the ball until he had recovered from his “huff.” Then he would blow his whistle, the signal for the unclothed boys to play again. This procedure was repeated for about an hour, until the shirt-sleeved man became very mad at some person who fired off a revolver, and, taking the ball, he left the building. The spectators, uneasy all evening, now gave vent to their feelings, and put after the man in shirt-sleeves. I, too, ioined this mob and I think if I had set mv hands upon the rascal I, surelv would have “wrung his neck. For I do not think that he had anv rmht to break up the bovs’ fun, after thev had allowed him to nlav with them. ' JOHN MAGEE, 34 ------------------------ - On a map recentlv drawn, one bright historv student drew the Siberian railroad in the Mediterranean Sea- ------------------------ - In a theme in the Junior English Class, one boy wrote, “He took out his sword and shot him.” ------------------------ - Miss Robinson—“Tell us of Bismark’s For- eign Relations.” History Student—“I looked it up and I couldn’t find anything about his foreign relatives. THE CLANG OF THE FORGE One of the nosiest yet busiest places I have ever entered is the blacksmith's forge at Her-reshoff’s Boat Shop. Upon entering, one is surprised to hear so many sounds. In one corner of the forge is a roaring, spitting coal fire, in which metals are heated to a white heat. Immediately after they are extracted from the fire, the metals are laid on the anvil. There one can hear the swish-bang-clang of steel upon steel, as the smith wields his heavy sledge; also one may see the shower of fiery pieces of steel, as they rattle against a tin black-board, like miniature shooting stars. From another part of the forge comes a chaos of different sounds. There is a t ittern-maker hammering industriously at a 'oodeit mold. One may hear a steady clang of hammer and chisel, as a helper shapes the wood for the molds. Close by are the huge melting-pots, beneath which can be seen the roaring flames which melt the lead, bronze, or whatever the metal should happen to be. From these melting-pots comes a steadv roar, a low spluttering, and an occasional gurgle. When the pots are taken from the fires, the metals are usually a verdant green, with a reddish tint. The hot metal flows int othe cool molding sand with a flop, a hiss into steam, and a low gurgle, then silence. It is very intersting to watch the smith shaping a winch, which is a delicate type of windlass used on the cup contenders. These winches are made of bronze, which is a very hard metal, even when heated. The smith keeps a steady rap-tap-tap on one spot for perhaps an hour, to alter the shape of the winch a fraction of an inch. Such pains are taken because if he makes a mistake, the whole process of melting, molding, and tapping will have to be repeated. Despite the numerous noises of the forge, it appears that the only sound audible to the smith is the 5 o’clock whistle, which announces the end of another hard dav. CHARLES WEAVER. ’35. 3fc-----5|e------5»C “WHAT OR WHO?” One afternoon, Miss Robinson sent Ruth Demers to the library to get Bense. Bense? Bense? queried Miss Osterberg. “Oh maybe she wants Benson 1 I'll look for it. She searched in vain for Benson’s History Book and sent Ruth back with the message that Benson was not in iust now. Several minutes later Ruth returned. “Miss Robinson wanted Erik Bense.” Just a case of mistaken identity! --------- ------- Mr. Fitzgerald—The law of gravity is that law which keeps people from flying off the earth. Vin- Campagna—What kept people on the earth before the law was passed? --------- ------- Sally Church (French IOA)-—Fie ran his language over his lips.

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 H m I n z z ra BASKETBALL TEAM