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

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GREEN mndL WD1 OUQr- with an avalanche of conversation and insists on shaking your hand all the while. Though not so gruelling as the second type of handshake, his is extremely boring. The energetic athletic type of handshake, which you have probably witnessed, for the presentation of letters to football or baseball players, consists of grasping the other person's hand and firmly jerking it downward. It docs instill a deep feeling of comradeship Now for the practical joker’s handshakes. This fellow will invariably extend his hand with the accompanying words, “Shake, pal.” When you obligingly proceed to do so, you find his hand has vanished, for he has intentionally uplifted it and is now doubled up in laughter. This leaves you somewhat dumbfounded and a little peeved. Last but not by any means least, is the ordinary good natured handshake. The owner of this one will usually have many friends, for he puts you at ease and makes you feel as if you had known him for years. But, of course, you cannot appreciate this handshaking unless you have, unfortunately, © © A PILOT’S DREAM With many planes now in the air That show great intensity of a war scare, I see my ambition about to come true For signs now read, “Join the Air Force! Please Do!” I’d love to fly a plane above With nothing to bother me but the motor’s drone, With only a stick between my knees I’d strike at the world like a humming bee. But then in case between the shells I’d ride Joyfully would I spin, loop and dive, I’d terrorize the enemy when I them spied And chase their planes far, far up in the sky. If I should get wounded or fatally hurt. Undaunted I'd continue, never shirk If my life sacrificed must be America, my country, ’tis for thee. JOHN PARTINGTON, ’41 © © © LITTLE ROBIN Little robin you have flown in quest Of a warm home so far away. Dear little robin, I’ll save your nest, Won't you please return someday? MARY SANTULLI, ’39 experienced the latter. SAMUEL LEVITEN, ’39 © THE GARDEN WEDDING I’ve never seen a garden wedding, But one was described to me; By a little red robin singing, High in a mulberry tree. ’Twas held in a lovely bower, So little red robin told; And present was every flower Hailing the chariot of gold. The blue bells were softly ringing As the pair came down the aisle, To Jack-in-the-Pulpit waiting In his very best wedding style. Honey in buttercups yellow Was served to the wedding guests; As music sweet and mellow. Soared from the neighboring nests. I wish I could have been there, For I would have loved to see, The wedding of the daisy, To a handsome buzzing bee. MARY SANTULLI, ’39 © © © MAY BREAKFAST The first day of May was the date Which was set after heated debate. The Ferry the place. But fatal the case! It was called off, so nobody ate! P. PINHERO, '39

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GREEN (OAndl WD1DITE- LITERARY 0 0 0 DISSERTATION ON THE LANGUAGE OF TODAY The English language is a composite of many tongues, and written and spoken correctly is perhaps the most beautiful language that is known to mankind. Yet, misused, it is, without doubt, the most unbeautiful. It is a generally quoted fact that the human race is never satisfied, and that seems to be also true about their native tongue. Every age has its own idea of how it should be spoken and accordingly adds and changes words to suit it. Many of these words and phrases are never accepted at all and many arc not permanently accepted but there are a great many new words and phrases coined in every age which are commonly accepted and gradually come to be used universally in conversation. This age of ours has by no means differed from other periods in this matter. We have contributed perhaps more words, phrases and expressions than any previous age, but I doubt if many of the expressions we have coined will be universally accepted as part of our language. I may be very wrong in making this statement, but only time can answer that. There’s no doubt that modern conversation is sadly infected by common slang, and it is generally accepted, or at least not usually rejected. I don’t think it necessary to go into a long dissertation on slang in itself, but perhaps the following definitions will give you an inkling of why most cultured people do not consider it in good taste to use slang in their conversation. Mr. Webster, in his 1853 edition of the unabridged dictionary, defines slang as “low, vulgar, unmeaning language,” and refers to one who uses slang as a “slang-whanger.” Obviously the definition of slang has risen somewhat since that time, for in the 1931 edition it is defined as “language consisting either of new words or phrases, often of the vagrant or illiterate classes or of ordinary words or phrases in arbitrary senses, and having a conventional but vulgar or inelegant use.” Incidentally, in this edition no name is given to one who uses slang. If there were one, however, I’m afraid we all would be called by it. However, proper or improper it may be, I don’t think there’s one person here who can honestly say that he never uses some slang expressions. Yet, we don’t consider ourselves as illiterate or vulgar, and are not the least bit surprised or shocked to hear such expressions as “Oh Yeah! O. K. It‘s lousy! It’s the nuts! Phooey” etc. While our grandparents would probably have turned their heads in disgust. Are people becoming more illiterate or broadminded? You can decide the answer to that question for yourselves, but whatever it may be, it is evident that slang is continually increasing in the English language and nothing is being done to check it. CLAIRE RICHARDS, 39 0 0 0 “HANDSHAKES” If there is anything I detest, it is the slovenly, half-hearted handshake of the so-called genteel type. His hand feels cold and clammy and he hardly ever puts any strength into his shake, but lets you shoulder the burden. Though not as loathsome mentally, but terribly painful is the so-called handcrusher. This type of handshake is usually wielded by tall, muscular men. You know, the robust athletic type who crushes your hand until the cracking of your metacarpus becomes almost audible. As if it isn’t enough he will almost invariably accompany his greeting with a resounding “whack” on the back. By the time you arc through with these ape-like tactics, your hand will be in dire need of a hot soaking to relieve the pain. Then there is the tireless, talkative person who upon greeting you, showers you 5

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GREEN amdl WCHOmE- JOSHUA’S JALOPY Old Joshua Applebottom had a jalopy. He bought it three years before for half a hundred dollars and it was pretty well shot. The windows (if there were any) rattled, the doors, (i. e. the exits and entrances with like conditions as applied to the windows) were dangerously weak, the high flat non-turret top endangered the health of those inside when rain fell, the tires depended upon the tubes for aid in keeping the car up, the tubes were not always dependable, he didn’t need a windshield wiper (though he had one) for there was no windshield, we won’t discuss the motor (?). Needless to state, Zeke, I mean Joshua, had a tough time starting and stopping his jalopy. Rut Mr. Applebottom was a resourceful man. He built a so-called combination start-stop garage. That is simply a garage built on the summit of a hill with doors on the front and back ends. At night when he pulls in he simply aims for the hill and thus stops. In the morning he uses the gear method of starting. He simply gives the car a little push, rolls down the hill, the motor grinds, and the song (?) of the working motor is once more heard. MAYNARD SHUSMAN, ’39 0 0 MY TREASURE CHEST I have a little treasure chest, In an attic dark as dark can be, And all I do in play and rest Comes from the wealth it stores for me. Made not by genius of savants Is this little chest of mine; The more it has the more it wants, It surely must be called divine. This chest is not at all of gold. There in the attic where it has lain; And all the wealth that it does hold Is in the substance of my brain. Matched to the knowledge of the ages Unnoticed is the strength of gold; Without the wisdom of the sages Advancements would not have been told. So. if perchance I were to choose Between wealth of wit and wealth of gold, I then would choose what I would not lose Were I to face misfortune bold. This is the wealth of my little chest From the sages’ wisdom did I gain. Which through its own self-seeking quest Reveals the treasures of my brain. FRANK CORREIA, ’39 0 SPRING Spring is here! Spring is here! How we love this weather clear. No more snow, no more ice, Everything so green and nice. Daily to high school we do go. In this beautiful weather. Oh! What woe! However we grin and study a bit. Still try with the teachers to make a hit. They too. seem to feel the spell. Of this magician. Spring. Ah. Well— In a few more weeks school will end. And the pleasure of vacation then begin. DANIEL FURTADO, ’40 0 0 0 THE BOLD SKIER There once was a skier bold and brave. Who went up on a hill with a barrel stave When he reached the top he paused a while, And looked around with a knowing smile. He started off with a mighty lunge. And took a terrific downward plunge. His eyes in terror opened wide And halfway down that mighty slide. His head came down to meet his knees. And he saw below him all the trees. He met a rock and hit his head And now he is home in his little bed. THOMAS BRELSFORD, ’40 7