Chelmsford High School - Yearbook (Chelmsford, MA)

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1947 YEAR BOOK SKIPPIN G SCHOOL Everyone knows we break a rule, Whenever we fail to go to school. But Oh! what fun it is to bum A ride with an entreating thumb, To sit in some fine Cadillac, Against soft cushionsvrest your back, To leave the high school in a blurr NO bells, no noise, just the en'gine's purr! To be on your way to Fenway Park, And on a school day steal a lark, To think of study period four As some vague, dreamlike distant bore. To laugh, to be jolly, and have fun With nary a thought of the time to come. What care we for a mere detention Or even our parents' severest attention! Oh, what fun to break the rule To do the thing we shouldn't in school, It's playing with life as with a toy, It's part of the business of being a boy. ROBERT SWEET '47 ON WITH THE NEW My little car is growing old. Its mudguard's bent, its engine's cold. Many good times we've had together, In all sorts of seasons and all sorts of weather. But the '46 model sure looks nice, Although I'll pay a fancy price. So goodfbye little car with the squeaky brakes, I've bought a new car that's got what it takes. DONALD SIMM '47 REVENGE From Monday until Saturday- Five whole days in school! And all I come here for is so I wOn't grow up a fool. They make me work hard every night, They make me slave each day. I sure would get revenge on them. If I could have my way! The teacherslmake me work from spite And follow every rule, So just in spite to them I think I will become a fool! LINCOLN DEXTER SNOWFLAKES Pretty snowflakes falling down Spread a carpet on the ground. Out come shovels, mittens too, Lots of work for me and you. Blisters, aches, and groans of pain Call SlOan's from the shelf again, But though it brings me work and woe, I still can't help but like the snow. Evelyn Desmarais '47 NAIL POLISHING To keep nails shaped and polished Takes the patience of a saint. First you nicely file them down And then apply the paint. You try to close the bottle, Your finger slips and then- Oh! the trouble that you have To do that nail again! At last you put the cover on And reach to get the cotton. And that's the time you chance to see The nail you have forgotten. The bottle must be opened To paint that fatal nail. You make a very vague attempt And hope it dOesn't fail. Sometimes I really wonder Why I paint my nails at all, For when I'm done, I'm sure they look No better after all. Mary Mulcahy '47

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CHELMsFoRn HIGH SCHOOL PHYSICS FOR GIRLS The most terrible thing that could ever happen to a girl is a course in physics, un- less she is one of the rugged modern indif vidualists. Learning the principles of the lever, the laws of motion, and the operation of a generator and a motor are, in my es' timation, not only nonessential, but imposf sible for a lady of the gentler type. Take me, for instance. I am definitely of the gentler sort. Why rack my brain a whole semester trying to realize that H: .2412Rt? Why should I understand fif I couldlj the four strokes of a gasoline en' gine? And what care I about measuring ref sistance with the Wheatstone bridge? Be that as it may, I signed up for the course, and in the natural order of events it comes time to do the assignment. I open my book and make a very determined effort to study. The diagrams swim before me, and technif cal words, such as armature, centrifugal, coulomb, eddy current, electvophoms, Fraunhofer lines, manometric flames, ophf thalmoscope, stereopticous, and synchrof nous motors so confuse and scare me that my few simple wits leave me in a complete mental void. As the book docsn't help me, I resolve to try the notes I took down in class, only to find I noted all the lesser facts and none of the important ones, and anyway I can't read what I do have. In desperation I go out to the garage to try to match the parts of the car with the diagram in the book. l crawl under the car, and when I gaze at it from the vantage point of a cold cement floor, there are so many nuts, bolts, screws, springs, gears, and so much grease withal on the eontrap' tion, I forget all about matching anything in my bewilderment. The nightmare of bolts pursues me to the very end of the day when I try to sleep, and my brain ref frolves as fast as the generator I'm supposed 'to know all about. In spite of all this, don't let me discourf age you, girls. But remember when you make out your program for next year, just skip over physics, that is, unless of course, it is your most secret and most cherished ambition to become a professional grease monkey! MARY MULCAHY '47 SPEAKING IN JUNIOR ASSEMBLY Nervous excitement can be caused in many ways. To me the surest way is speak' ing before an audience. Let me recall my experience in junior Assembly. The moment arrived. I had been an' nounced, and I bravely walked to the rosf trum. I was now before the audience and I gave the name of my topic. I spoke in a clear voice. Good work, Jimmie, I thought to myself. Then it was time to start my oration. I saw eyes staring at me from below like a thousand gleaming daggers. I swallowed. My voice faltered and my knees began to shake. Somehow the most crucial point of my speech arrived. My nervousness increased. If I put my mind upon keeping my knees from knocking, my voice stammered and falteredg if I concentrated upon my voice, I found my self shaking like a tuning fork. My clothes felt like a clinging wet towel. I found myself eagerly but alas, too soon- saying the last few lines of my speech. Realizing my mistake, I started back over the regular course, hurrying until I again arrived at the longed for conclusion. I tried to put that ending over in the effective manner in which I had been coached, but it didn't work. ' After the horror was over and I had ref treated to my scat, I concluded that no ex- perience life could offer could ever be worse, and having endured such misery, no trial could ever be unbearable! To this day I have never altered that conclusion. JAMES WHITWORTII '47 BLUE SKIES Oh, glad we see blue skies break through The clouds so dull and gray, ' The clouds that just this morn we thought Would darken all our day. So through the clouds that fret the mind, The ray of hope shines bright, The sun of happiness breaks through And blue skies bless our sight. ARTHUR EDWARDS '47

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CHELMSFORD HIGH SCHOOL 'TEEN AGE We are now sixteen, that glorious age, When ambition soars high and far, So we grab the wheel, and gaily begin To ruin the family car. The latest beginner is all set to go, You must move over, Pa, And grit your teeth and endure the abuse That's handed the family car. We're off to the registry, awful place, With two dollars borrowed from Ma, And we'll scare pedestrians out of their wits, Showing off in the family car. ' RALPH Banc '47 THE MUTT There stretched before the fire Is a little ball of fluff That seems to have no eyes or nose, just like a powder puff. But if you care to listen, I'll tell you what I know, She's the little mutt at our house, Whose fur is white as snow. She's supposed to be a sheep dogg It's really a disgrace, For she couldn't even see the sheep For the hair that's in her face. We take her everywhere with us, On rides, and walks, and yet, She doesn't take to swimming, For fear that' she'll get wet. She makes a splendid watchdog With her loud and fearful bark, I pity any burglar Who meets her in the dark. She's won no bright blue ribbons And has no pedigree, Yet one thing I'm cock sure of -- She is the dog for me. VIRGINIA BILLINGTON '47 TO MY ENGLISH TEACHER I try to think of better Things to write about, But it's hard to think of topics When my mind is much in doubt. I could say that school's a bother, But that would doubtless bore, Because it's been repeated So many times before. I muse, I think, I ponder, But thoughtfulness won't aid me' Since I've been taking English A worried girl you've made me. 9 I concentrate and worry But ideas just won't come, I've practically decided That I am just plain dumb. I keep repeating things 'Til they're practically antique, Things I forgot this morning I only learned last week. I mull in my mind choice tid-bits, To try to find a theme, But it's absolutely useless, I'm walking in a dream. So though I know 'twill flunk me There's just one thing to do- Repeat that dear old standfby, I don't know what to do. MARILYN Piano MY BROTHERS SAX My brother owns a saxophone, A brand new acquisition, He thinks that shortly now I'Ie'll be a real musician. At night he goes up to his room And squats upon a chair, His sax he hangs around his neck And fills his lungs with air. The sounds he gets from that old sax The very ears offend, The boomps and toots jar every nerve And set the hair on end. E '47 just when my dad can stand no more, The solos quickly stop. It's well it ended as it did- I was about to pop! MILDRED FLYNN '47