Cambridge Latin High School - Review Yearbook (Cambridge, MA)

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'Review 9 She made no reply but as he took up his hat and cane and left the room, she followed him. Months later David and Suzanne were sitting quietly before a ruddy fire. It was pleasant for the fall evening and was just cool enough to give a chill to the air. David, I have a confession to months you have talked with me, me, laboured with me in every tience has been wonderful, for striving to make me believe the make. All these tried to instruct way. Your pa- you have been doctrine of you and your father and your government. Her voice was very low, as if she were almost ashamed to continue. David--I believe. I can see now that the code of my former compatriots is all wrong. Why it's- it's mad, inhuman, vile. They brag of doing all these great acts wholly for Russia's sake, while their only motive is greed. I am glad. It impresses me, too, that in the time that you have lived at the Royal residence here with my cousin Stephana, your health has improved. You look so much better. I am happy. I am happier now than I ever shall be again, it is because I am, for the first time in my life, totally free and because, also for the first time, I have real friends. Here, I have been treated like a human being, like a woman and not like a caged animal. This feeling between your family and me is the only true friendship, for it consists of happiness and kindness. He leaned towards her and whispered, And you no longer hate me? Hate you? I am only grateful that if you dis- like me, you have concealed it from me. No, no, I- I- Since he could find no words with which to express himself, David leaned over and suddenly kissed her. She broke away, startled. This is mad! She was trembling as if a wave of cold wind had passed through her. Mad, mad! Why is it? he asked. You once aspired to be Czarina! As a Bolshevist! That is over. I have given you new principles, new creedsg you have forgotten the old thoughts. David, you must forget me. Never! I love you and I am not ashamed to admit it. His hands felt like bands of steel on her arms. Let me go, David-please. I have frightened you. He freed her from his grasp. Good night, dear Suzanne. She mounted half way up the stairs before she s oke. P Poor David,e poor, dear, silly David. She hurried upstairs as she began to cry. ' 'lcuniinued on page 213 MARS AND MUSIC llISN'T it terrible, the way the Germans are dis- rupting Europe and the world! I, for one, in- tend to boycott Wagnerian opera and Beethoven concerts. My son is studying German nowg I think I will have him drop it. It's the patriotic thing to do in days like these. The patriotic thing to do! What is patriotic in banishing the music of the masters because those men happened to belong to a nation now belliger- ent? It is not the German people against whom Britain and France have taken up arms, it is their government and its threat to democracy. The war- time hysteria which rocked the country in 1914, sweeping before it the art, music, and literature of Germany threatens to do so again. Last year's wave of destruction in Germany against non-Aryans shocked the world. Probably it so infuriated the person whose words are quoted above that he decided to shun all German works. Perhaps he did not realize that he was doing the same thing which had so irked him! In the World War, the compositions of Beethoven and Wagner, the writings of Goethe and Schiller, the voice of Johanna Gadski, the great dramatic soprano, and the genius of Fritz Kreisler, an Aus- trian, were all 'more or less banned. If a living German artist is involved in espionage, then his efforts should be given as scant honor by Americans as the broken promises of the head of the Nazi regime. However, if he works for the sake of his art alone, why should he be made a martyr? XVhy should the geniuses which that country has pro- duced be penalized just because they are German? The same holds true for their language. It is not only futile to do this but childish and intolerant. Efforts should be made to erase these thoughts from the minds of an otherwise sensible people. Such efforts can be summed up in three words - Abolish bigoted propaganda! MARGARET MILLER, '41, WISHING I wish I were a lovely rose, With petals bright and soft, I'd be the sweetest flower that grows, And hold my head aloft. I'd bathe each morning in the dew, And sun myself all dayg I'd lift my face up to the blue Of God's great sky, and pray. ANNE FARR, '43, 5 A J ,ac oil

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8 The Cambridge SUZANNE, THERE was no doubt about it, David, Crown Prince of all the Russias, was very happy. Swinging his cane gaily and whistling a popular tune, he looked little like a prince. He was dressed as well as any young Bof1levardiere,' and why shouldn't he? He was little more than that. For David was young, David was free. His father was Czar and David preferred to let him worry about the government. Some day he would have to rule Russia, unless some Bolshevist or Anar- chist took care of him. Until that day arrived, however, the Prince was going to have his way. Czardom was re-established in 1952. Nicholas, Czar, ruled well, but in a country like Russia, how can one man be popular with everyone? There were Bolshevists, Anarchists, Socialists, Communists, and every other kind of fanatic. One of these had only to pull the trigger to start a Republican revolt against monarchy. Even such a fate as this did not worry David, as he executed his commission. He walked through the Government Building searching for the office of Chief Counsellor Nardoff. He did not notice a solitary scrubwoman, waxing one of the Hoors. She had seen him when he entered, she had poured nearly the whole bottle of wax over her floor and rubbed it in, briskly. Then as he approached, she rose. Is the Hoor dry? Half the people of Mos- cow never recognized him, and the other half didn't know he existed. Yes, quite dry, the girl quickly replied with a strange gleam in her eye. He proceeded, re- plete with dignity which he soon lost along with his balance. Not only did he fall, but he slipped along the surface for ten feet while the girl shook with rather malicious laughter. Attracted by the commotion, Counsellor Nardoif hurried to assist the Prince and to apprehend the criminal, both of whom he escorted into his ofhce to avoid the gathering crowd. Are you sure that Your Highness is quite un- hurt? he cried solicitously, the moment the door was shut. I am perfectly all right, David assured him, but the defendant seems to have a grudge against me. You should be thankful, the girl remarked, as she insolently sank into a chair, that it was I who saw you rather than an Anarchist, he would have thrown a bomb, while I satisfied myself with seeing you lose your dignity. Young lady, why did you wish to cause the loss of my precious dignity? he asked. CZAMNA Because you caused the loss of mine! Because your father's filthy bodyguards murdered my' father! She was crying unrestrainedly now, on the arm of the chair. t Yes . . . yes! . murmured David softly. I re- member you now. Suzanne, the girl who aspired to the throne of Russia. You and your Bolshevist compatriots who clutched the monarchy by the throat tried to murder my father, the logical heir to the throne, but his protectors shot the whole wretched mob! They did that deed in justice! NO, No! she cried frantically. , In justice, I tell you! he repeated. Then he began to muse. Alexandrina Catherine Suzanne Lezensky, why, if you desire so passionately to play fhe great lady of Russia, do you not arrange to have my father and me murdered, then your Bolshevist friends could seize the rule again. You would probably marry Alexander as his Queen, Queen to an imitation Czar. I marry that weak, tremulous braggart! Never! If he stood in your way, you could remove him as well as us. She was tired, weak, unhappy. I could kill no one, if I were ruthless, my weapon should have been a dagger rather than a can of wax. Having dried her eyes, Suzanne looked up at the desk. A door has just opened softly behind David, a man with a pistol ready for action ap- peared, a man whom Suzanne recognized as her cousin, a member of her band. Assassination! She should be glad! XVhy wasn't she? She was frightened, horrified, and in that moment she screamed. The shriek came in time to warn the prince, who turned and grappled with the would' be assassin. In a minute, the guards arrived, and taking the prisoner in their charge, they divested him of his gun. Well, my,dear, smiled David, looking slightly less like a well-dressed gentleman, you hate me, yet you save me. I am puzzled, but grateful. I am afraid, the girl whispered when she was alone with David once more. It is horrible for I save my enemy's life and fear my friendsf: XVhy do you fear them P They will find out that I have betrayed Di- mitri, the assassin, I cannot escape. Do not be afraid. David was suddenly very kind. You shall come to my royal home. There you will see how a Czarina might live. Perhaps I can reform your warped ideas and show you that our principles are the real, honest ones. At any rate, I shall try. Will you come?

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10 The Cambridge IANE WITHERS The following is a study of Jane Withers given by her to Robert Guest, C. H. L. S., '42: ELL, I promised to tell you about my newest hobbies and pets and -schlpol studies and everything, so here they are: My favorite sports are ice skating, lasso-ing, swimming, horseback riding, badminton, roller skating and dancing. I like to knit and crochet sweaters, bags, boleros and belts. My most favorite mystery story right now is Who Killed Aunt Maggie? by Medora Perk- erson. My favorite kind of other books is biogra- phies of famous people, like Royal Girlhood, which tells the child life of all the famous queens of history, and biographies of famous men like the one about Edward Bok who collected stamps and autographs and came to America to get the auto- graphs of Longfellow and Oliver Wendell Holmes. My favorite movie stars are Don Ameche, Alice Faye, Linda Darnell, Una Merkel, Baby Sandy, Henry Wilcoxon, Sonja Henie, Tyrone Power, Clark Gable, Spencer Tracy, Patsy Kelly, Gene Autry, Mickey Rooney and Gloria jean. I have seven dogs - Blue Boy, an English sheep dogg Rex, Belgian Police, Duke and Duchess, points Leo Carillo gave me, Suzie-Q, Pekingeseg Napoleon, a Chihuahua, and Princess, the white Spitz who comes to school in my dressing room at the studio with me every day. My cats are jitter- bug, a Tortoise-shell, and Blinker, a red Persian. My deer, Dot and Dash, grew too big to keep at home, but I go to see them at the zoo. I still have Senorita, my parrot, Ranger and Maud, the big turtles, turkeys, chickens, two Chinese Silkies, 10 pheasants, three Texas red squirrels, lots of rab- bits and a pair of lovebirds. Henry Wilcoxon is taking care of Lady Bess, the calf, for me, and Fidel, our gardner, keeps my Sicilian donkey and my goats for me because the neighbors objected to them. My favorite picture is High School, because there were about 300 kids in it, and we had a swell time together. We had to do a lot of exciting things for the picture: we had a Lasso club, and we ended up with a formal dance in which we girls wore long party dresses and the boys wore swell uniforms, and they let us keep on dancing to the orchestra after they'd finished the last take. We organized a club called the 8-and-8 Club - 8 boys and 8 girls - and we all take turns giving parties or going ice skating or roller skating or to football games to- gether. My teacher, Miss Gertrude Vizard, has promoted me to the ninth grade, so now I'm a Freshman in High School, and among my studies, history, Span- ish and English are the three solids that will count for college entrance. I'm crazy about school this term because I study so many new and interesting subjects. There's -social history, which includes the history of civilization, with particular emphasis on stories of Egypt and early Greece. The stories about Egypt made me realize how important and fascinat- ing archmology is, because when you realize that the hieroglyphics on old stones reveal the life of people of past ages, it's pretty exciting. That's all I can think of right now, except that my favorite ambitions are to organize an all-girls' softball team good enough to beat a boys' team, and to become a costume sketch artist. - PEP TALK THE day of the big game dawned cold and clear. Bill Wadsworth jumped up out of bed. Muscles ripped over his heroic torso. He took his .usual brisk morning shower, then dressed carefully in his every day clothes. ' Time enough to get down there - I can't wait till I get the old outfit on again, he thought. Bill Wadsworth rummaged around and got his old uniform together. We'll see if old Dartmouth really has something on the ball, he commented grimly to himself. He walked slowly across the campus to the ivy covered stadium where the crowd was already streaming in. Its faint murmur was invigorating. How often had he run across that springy turf, knowing that he was part of that great conflict and pageantry! The coach stood near the Maroon bench. As Bill passed him, jones winked and said, just five min- utes to dress, boy. His muscles tightened as he said, We'll see what they've got, coach. Five minutes later, Bill Wadsworth trotted out on the field. A cheer broke from the assembled throng. Raising his head proudly, he waved his hand at the roaring crowd. Peanuts! Pop corn! Five cents! he shouted. Wm HOLLAND, '40. N the dean's list at Tech appear the follow- ing names of C. H. L S graduates: FIRST HONORS John Lyons Jean Pearlson Eliott Shaw . SECOND HONORS Thomas Crowley, '38 Eloise Humez, '38 T Mello, '51 and Ira Habeshian, '53 graduated last june from Northeastern University.