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

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GRANDPA ARCHIBALD’S EXPERIENCE We’re supposed to be a civilized nation, by j'miny, but what I saw this afternoon leads me to believe otherwise. My grandson induced me to see some sort of a contest between two high schools. I think he called the game “feetball.” Before I could offer much protest, I found myself on the way with him to the scene of the contest, a field on the outskirts of the town. Then by Jove, I discovered that one must pay to see some high school boys chasing an overgrown egg all over the field. It surely was an ostrich egg. I cannot think of another bird that has such huge eggs. No sooner did my grandson hustle me to a seat, when we saw a gang of fellows run onto the field dressed in bright-colored uniforms with numbers on their backs. I suppose they were being punished for some-offense committed at school. But to get back to the subject, a few “perty gals” immediately confronted the grandstand and everyone began yelling the name of grandson’s school. Down-light silly, I say! Soon everyone became intensely interested at what was happening on the field. A fellow would stoop, throw the egg between his legs at another boy behind him who tucked it under his arm and ran. Everyone then chased him until someone with a different colored uniform jumped at him and knocked him to the ground. But the thing I enjoyed most was to see those men dressed in white, running around, blowing whistles and horns. They must have been there to amuse the crowd, or to divert their attention from the barbarism of the game. It seems that whenever the whistle would be sounded the boys would stop fighting and hold a conference before they began chasing one another again. But here something happened that caused me to dislike •lie so-called game. After the whistle had been blown, it was noticed that a boy did not get up from the ground. A few important-looking “gents,” coaches my grandson called them, but they didn’t look like that type of auto to me. arose from a bench on the sideline, and, fol- lowed by a small boy struggling with a pail of water, ran to the injured player. Soon they carried him from the field. This same thing happened about six or seven more times during the game. If this is a sport fit for growing youngsters, my name isn’t Archibald Macguil-icutty. During the remaining part of the game my thoughts always returned to that poor fellow lying on the stretcher. Meanwhile the spectators nearly yelled me deaf, and 1 certainly was glad when my grandson told me the game was over. Now that I am home again, I feel my dormant rheumatism returning, probably stimulated by the weather at the game. Oh! What’s this world coming to? Archibald Maeguilieu11y. TEVIS SHUSMAN, ’38 “BILLY” There was a young man named Billy Who thought to be careful was silly He struck up a match On fire his clothes did catch And now in his hands lies a lily. B. HAM BRICK, ’38 “DOPEY” There once was a boy called “Dopey, For he always seemed to be mopey. One day as he sang. On the head he was banged And now he’s no longer Dopey. OLYMPIA PROTO. ’38 THE BIRDIE There was a young bird in a tree Who sang, “Come, listen to me” - - 1 sing nice and loud Of mv voice I am proud And for my songs you pay no fee. MARTHA DiMEZZA, 38 O F -Er Er N (U tfldl Vy D 1 D U 6

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STUDENT COUNCIL 1st row—Massa. DuPont, Schinigoi, Romano. 2nd row- Bottomlcy. McMahon, Pinlu-ro, Grabcrt, Securo.

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JUNIOR GROUP—NUMBER ONE