Brooks School - Bishop Yearbook (North Andover, MA)

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SIXTH FORM HISTORY DISTANT autumn day six long years ago found eight small boys, all on the point of tearful collapse, gathered in a corner of Mr. Wilder's Cnow Mr. Coxe'sj dorm. Little did the casual observer reck that soon these inoffensive little boys would wreck. . .but that is another story. Well, time passed and history was in the making. Having become acclimatized to work and blackmarks, these adventurous small fry cast about in their new world for excitement and found plenty. The town of Boxford, bursting with hidden wonders, lay as a challenge on the other side of Cow Hill, and since no one had had time to get on pro the challenge was accepted one Sunday after- noon. En route fate intervened and William Ayrault Hazard Leonard began his long and varied career as a cow puncher by being thrown for a decided loss after a short ride on the back of an unsympathetic heifer. After that, every Sunday was Rodeo day on Cow Hill and Ma Benson put up an extra stand to cope with Breck's appetite. In a month's time the new boys had melted into their surroundings. They could, with a few exceptions, get the maximum amount of black marks without being sent to court, had gained complete dominance over their dormitory prefect, Morgan, and were already opening communications with the great firm of Johnson Smith. It was also around this time that cider season opened with no holds barred. A boy who could not drink a gallon of cider and carry home two more to his cubicle was looked upon with great distrust in those dear dead days. Leonard and Thayer were the big competitors in this field, but they were so evenly matched that gallons consumed per week never differed by more than five, a narrow margin in that league. C. Allen, whose Pennsylvania Dutch accent rendered him at times unin- telligible, scored a near miss on the senior prefect with an orange and stepped into the limelight. Close in his tracks followed Richard Clabberhouse Jebb Breck and Gran'maw Grimes Butler, who thought nothing of covering themselves and their cubicles in midnight contests with several inches of tooth powder, Wheaties, and popcorn. Mortimer Hall had already made a name for himself by doing nothing at all, while Coburn QCobalt bluej and Thayer CLancastrianj used to get up at 2:30 in the morning, steal down to the library, then with childish glee write fifteen page essays on various historical topics for Mr. Bragdon. For his amusement, Joe Dearborn was content to run along the tops of the cubicles and do acrobatics along the window ledges two stories up. An agreement having been finally reached, Johnson Smith sent up a large consignment of merchandise and all Hell broke loose. The first outrage oc- curred when Bobby Herrick was hermetically sealed in room C and subjected to an intense bombardment of stink bombs. As the reeking Percy staggered from room C clutching his typewriter, many a sympathetic hand, filled with itching power, was extended to help him. From then on stink bombs and itch- 6

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EDITORIAL OST Americans live their lives at a gallop. To make sure that they don't miss a trick, they rush hither and yon without a pause. Now, the tempo is going still higher, particularly for people like this graduating class. After a brief breathing space of several weeks, we enter upon three hectic years of concentrated education. If the present world situation holds, college will be followed by an even more concentrated dose of military training and finally actual service itself. To complicate matters further, as I already said, we will be continually on the lookout to see that nothing gets by us, and as a result we will miss some of less obvious, but twice as important things in life. The Chinaman who sits quietly in his back yard and contemplates the beauty of his garden usually doesn't suffer from frayed nerves which wear him away to nothing. Also he derives much deeper pleasure than most double features can give. Admittedly, in times such as these no one can slow up on his job, but he can and should slow up in between times. VVhat you miss in life, you miss be- cause you skim over it and not because you don't get there in time. 5

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ing powder were as common as flies and every pocket concealed a fifteen shot Buckrogers water pistol. Fortunately, the winter term closed before a state of pure anarchy could be reached and Breck and Butler celebrated the coming vacation with a monster powdered soap battle. During the winter term the style of some of us was slightly cramped by that iniquitous institution, probation. Breck began to concentrate on growing and was so successful that one night his bed gave a quiet sigh and collapsed. Mortimer Hall took on a full time job as Leonard's stooge and the great Robot turned to art. Keeping in close touch with Epstein, he created horses of every size and description and even had some of his presentation pieces gilded. Coburn's main diversion was looking for his glasses and brushing up on his battleships. Thayer spent a good part of his time over on the Woodchuck skiing with Doctor Howe and became so-ah-good that he has improved very little since. The climax of the term came at the cabaret when the first form put on a play written and directed by Mrs. Waterston. It was called A Day at The Races Cthe Marx Brothers cribbed the title from usj and packed a stiff dramatic punch. Leonard, with bowler and cane, was a multi-millionaire stable owner and Thayer was his darkey stable boy. Butler was outstanding as the rear end of a racehorse while Dearborn held down the front end. Coburn, a villain to the tips of his moustache, aided and abetted by a Mexican CHallj, managed to steal the horse the day before the race. Playboy, the horse, was recovered in the nick of time and won the race. When Coburn first entered upon the stage the audience, seeing that he was obviously the villain, hissed loudly and Coburn, unaccustomed to the usages of the stage, fled terrified into the wings. After some assurance, however, he tried again and the show went on. Breck and Butler celebrated the closing of term by grinding All Bran into each other's beds. That spring we all moved down to the cage to make way for the St. George's crew, and completely shattered Morgan and even made a dent in Wells Stabler. As syphons and bottles spewed their sticky contents, a stream of orange crush followed Morgan as he staggered out into the night from double pie bed. Next year there were gaps in the ranks, but new faces too. Soper brought a charming New Haven atmosphere into our midst. Adams took our pictures. Slater kept us well informed about the local trains from Oshkosh, Mich. to God Knows VVhere. MacNichol told us tales from the Ohio woods. Philip made us realize Manhattan was a borough of Staten Island. Again coming to the fore in dramatics, our form scored with Cyrano de Bergerac. The whole thing got off to a bad start when Coburn, who was prompter, dropped his glasses and cued Beal in four pages ahead. From then on people wandered on and off at will. Soper's part came unpinned from the inside of his coat, rendering him useless. Thayer was wounded to the quick because as Cyrano, they refused to give him a false nose, saying his own was large enough. The crowning blow came when MacNichol in the midst of an impassioned love scene suddenly snapped his fingers and said, Aw shucks, I forgot! In our third form year came the hurricane, also Bingo Carroll, who in his 7