Central High School - Aglaia Yearbook (Manchester, NH)

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6 IANUARY AGLAIA OF 'rl-nz ORACLE Manchester in l-ler Teens By Harrier Anderson To some, Manchester 'in her teens may mean just a small manufacturing village on the east side of the Merrimack River, to others, a fishing resort. Although the Manchester of today is so built up, many places of interest remain. On the corner of Chestnut and Lowell streets was Manchester's first high school, now the Administration Building. It is a small red brick building resembling a little country schoolhouse. When it was first built it was surrounded by woods. lust one block from here on Amherst street, half way west from Chestnut, was a dingy little affair christened with the high- sounding name of Washington Hall. As late as 1841, this was the only place in the village for the accommodation of public gatherings. The territory south of Hanover street and east of Union was covered by a heavy pine forest as far as what used to be called Halls- ville, and through the woods to the south, a tract of cleared land, comprising about twenty acres or more, was familiarly known as the Ryefield. As late as 1850 or 1851, Daniel Webster delivered an address from a raised platform at a fair of the New Hampshire Agricultural Society, held in this immediate vicinity. He led a procession that marched up Elm street, and from his open barouche, with bared head, he bowed, like the god that he was, to the ladies on either side of the street, who waved their handkerchiefs. As you walk today in the Valley Cemetery, you would never dream that this place was a few years ago a shaded dell used by boys as a not too remote Arcadia, where they often went on a school holiday with wooden toma- hawks in imitation of the Indians. Uponferossing Hanover Common I always remember an old man telling me how he used to catch trout there. This is rather hard to believe, but I understand that an artificial pond existed there for fire purposes. There was also another artificial pond on Merri- mack Common, and a small reservoir on Concord Common. These small bodies of water must have afforded the school children of that day excellent facilities for skating. What is now the northeast residential sec- tion was then covered with rude granite boulders, scrub oaks, and pines, land hardly Ht for grazing, although used for such, and enclosed with a rough stone wall. Not far from here is the ground where the Governor Straw mansion stands. You know this mansion as the Parfitt apartments. They are located north of Harrison street and east of Elm. When Manchester was in her teens this mansion was considered away out in the country. This may sound rather amus- ing, but when Smyth's block was built at the corner of Elm and Water streets in 1853, it was thought by some of the wise heads of that day to be a crazy enterprise, because it was so far removed from the business center of the town. Too, no one ever, only at long intervals, got out as far as the shores of Lake Massabesic, for there were no means of transportation other than those afforded by nature. Derrylield Park, now known for its tennis courts, used to be known for the ancient pound and pest house. In those days the sur- rounding territory was considered a dense jungle. It is astonishing how rapidly a sand bank, which at first hardly any one wanted to own, has grown into a fiourishing city.

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l LITERARY 5' Soliloquy on the Sa By Thomas Hayden Do the people at the beaches come there to appreciate the sea, or just for the fun of pic- nics? As I sit in the warm sand gazing out to sea, looking toward the horizon dottezl with sails, listening to the swelling and breaking of the waves, I am acutely con- scious of the passing crowd. One group is made up of girls, their faces painted so that they look unreal and almost ghastly in bathing suits which were never in- tended for water. The suits would be in as sad a state of repair as the faces, I am afraid, if either were to receive a ducking. Follow- ing as if in a parade, come jolly picnickers with their million and one children. Do the poor mothers ever have a good time? It seems to me that they are continually shout- ing to Mary or Iohnny not to go too far out, or to be careful of the undertow. Seated not far from me is a very pretty young girl. I overheard her asking her companion to swim nd out a mile and a half through very danger- ous waters to a buoy. The young fellow re- fused to go, whereupon she accused him of being afraid. From where I am sitting, I can see the raft upon which a group of young people are continually making fancy dives- just to gain a glance from a fair one. Further on upon a lonely stretch of beach, I see a young man and woman with a very old man. This aged man is holding his hands out toward the sea anl calling, Waterl Water! It seemed to put new life into him just to be near the water. Maybe he has al- ways lived on a desert, or has never before seen the ocean. But his enjoyment of the water is reflected into the faces of his friends. And so I go on wondering. Who can I seek out who truly enjoys the sea? Can there be anyone who loves the same wonders of nature as IP Are not these people enjoying themselves in their way quite as much as I? Sch ussl By George Kent Hey, Ioe, where in- is that wax? Sorry, fellas, I left it in the car. Why you-!! Oh, forget it-let's get goin' . As we go outside we see a winter wonder- land. The trees are thick with frost. The snow and ice glitter in the bright sunshine, and as we gaze down we can see the trail as it winds down the steep sides of Cannon Mountain. Now and then we may catch a glimpse of a skier as he schusses his way to the bottom. The silence is broken when one of the fellows shoves off, and as he disappears around the first curve, he is followed by an- other, until five of us are rushing madly down the mountain thrilling at every turn. Hey, Fred, get moving! Harris goes into a Christy and with the idea of taking him on the inside, Bill comes smashing down upon him. ,There is a tangle of flying skiis and poles, and as the,snow clears, all that can be seen is a most conspic- uous part of the boys' anatomies. After much wiggling they begin to look like hu- man beings. Suddenly through the clear air comes a call, Trackl The boys gaze spellbound as they see a skier bearing down on them. A crash seems inevitable! Then with a beauti- fully-executed Christy, the skier Hashes past and continues down the trail. Fred blinks and says, That guy was okay. He should be, is the reply, that's Sig Buchmayerf'

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l LITERARY 7 Poor Little Sparrow By Marjorie Grave: fTranslation of a Latin poem by Catullusj Mourn, O gods of love and beauty And all the handsome men there are! The sparrow of my love is dead, The sparrow, the pet of my love, Which she loved more than her own eyes, For it was sweet as honey, and knew her As well as she her mother knows, And moved not from her lap, But hopping round now here, now there, Continually to its mistress chirped. It now goes on a shady trip From which none ever can return. Your deed was bad, oh evil shades Of Orcus, that devours all lovely things, That took away her pretty bird. O wicked deedl Poor little birdl Because of you, my love from tears Has swollen eyes all red. The Time and the Place By Howard H ill The day was cool, the air was crisp, and the ice was fast. This well-lighted rink vsith its rubber-cushioned backboards was a thing of beauty to any sports-lover. Yes, the city had been very generous. A- padded, young man, good-looking in a sndering way, was giving an exhibition of puck-chasing. His team, in the background, was watching him, as was everyone in the crowd of onlookers. Another team burst out upon the ice. A wiryyoung fellow in a nondescript green sweater soon began to give his version of puck-magic. Nails was his name and nails -he was. The two teams had faced-off. They were tense, as was every spectator. A three-year rivalry was to be culminated today. Would Nails come out on top? Everyone hoped so. The Art of Bluffing By E Hia Mora: Bluffing ,as we all know, is not uncom- mon, but one must practise carefully for four long years in order to make bluffing a true art. Some of us seniors, having studied very hard, are now successful blulfers. There seem to be moreboy bluffers than- girl bluf- fers-or maybe it's just that .the girls are more skilful. I 1 r There are many methods of bluffing, but I shall give you only a few common ones. The Hrst method, that of changing the subject when the teacher calls on you is, no doubt, very familiar to you. P The second mehod is discovering that your glasses need- cleaning, or your shoe strings need tightening when you catch the teacher looking directly .at you. The next' is an old favorite. It's just plain I donlt understand the question, or I didn't hear you. Some students are even too lazy to talk. They frown at the teacher, as if to say, You expect me to answer that? Then there is the student who, when the teacher points out the page with the answer, can't find it until someone else has given it. This gives the bluffer time to think of other things. N And last, there is the student who attempg to answer the question. This kind of bluffing requires the most skill. One must have 'fan extraordinary vocabulary in order to baffle the teacher and he must be able to express the same thought in at least four different ways. This is what we call beating around the mulberry bushf' This is very, very diffi- cult. . A Perhaps these suggestions will carry future students to new heights of bluHing. Or perf haps the other way around would be better: EDITOR'S NOTE: How about the old method of putting your hand up after the teacher calls on somebody else?