Fairhaven High School - Huttlestonian Yearbook (Fairhaven, MA)

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24 THE HUTTLESTONIAN “I suppose you are used to such odors,” said Lareau, “consider¬ ing that you lived on Water Street, New Bedford, Massachusetts, for so many years.” “That is exactly the reason,” returned Phones. “And if you gentlemen will leave me to think, I will be much obliged. Be sure to return to-morrow evening. And Lareau, you bring an officer to arrest whoever my “radio dog” runs down.” And the street door slammed shut, silently. Lareau, a policeman, and I appeared next evening to see what the “radio dog” might be. “This is Radio Rex,” said Murdock, as he produced a wire-haired terrier. Every hair was a miniature aerial, while on; his back was strapped a miniature expec-to-dyne set connected to an ear-phone muzzle on his nose. Soon the dog yapped. A spark jumped his ear to his tail. Every wire hair stood on end. Then as he took the scent, he disappeared down the street, nose skyward, and Murdock skidding along at the end of the leash. We followed at top speed and in a cloud of dust until we arrived at a picket fence behind which Murdock, or rather Rex had stopped. By peering over the fence we managed to discern the back of a delicatessen store. A clothes line was strung about the yard. Nothing happened, so we climbed the fence and waited, some in patience, others in bushes and shrubs. Time passed as it does occasionally. The dog whined like a shrapnel, but Murdock managed to silence him before he burst. Finally, an old Dutchman rolled out of the house and com¬ menced to grease the clothes line. Silence reigned. It reigned so hard that I cut out a chunk and threw it at Murdock to attract his attention, He frowned. “I suspect that that clothes line is an antennae,” communicated Murdock by mental telepathy. “Do tell,” I sent back. Soon the old man rolled back into the house. We followed. Murdock and the policeman produced their handy Kilgore revol¬ vers. We advanced rapidly down a hall into a room at the end. So silently had we come that the Dutchman and his wife had not heard us and continued to feed cheese into a broadcasting set.

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THE HUTTLESTONIAN 23 that this man was stout, very stout, so stout in fact that he appeared to be all hills and no valleys. Murdock came to his rescue: “Mr. Lareau, who is the pro¬ prietor of the Near-Yeast Restaurant, has been so kind as to dis¬ cover a mystery. Some time ago, Mr. Lareau patented a most original idea. He met, however, much opposition from some un¬ known enemy. His plan was to broadcast by radio, delicious odors and smells of things that are cooked in his restaurant. Besides being a delightful recreation, it advertises his eating-place. Re¬ cently, some one, possibly this same enemy, has been causing serious interference.” He paused. “That, Watson, is the problem. As a step towards solution, let us examine this interference at first-hand.” Turning to his wonderful expec-to-dyne receiving set, he struck a match and lit the lights inside. He then wound the set up by some knobs on front. Soon a voice within the hour announced: “This is station C-A-F-E of the Near-Yeast Restaurant. We are about to broadcast the grand opera ‘The Baker of Seville.’ We are sure that all our friends will agree that this grand opera is mag¬ nificent.” Then began a delightful overture of soupy smells followed by choruses, arias, and concerted music consisting of the odors of heated canines, Irish grapes, et cetera. We had just begun to enjoy ourselves when a sickly, thickish, greenish and odious smell gradually pervaded the room. Lareau and I immediately stopped up our nostrils, but Murdock sniffed the atmosphere with the air of a connoisseur. After a short time spent in thought he arose from his chair and obtained from a dark recess of the room, an iceless refrigerator and an ice-cream freezer. He connected this apparatus in series with the radio set and began to turn the freezer’s crank. The odor was immediately frozen into chunks of what we soon recognized were limberger cheese. “How derrible!” said I, my speech greatly affected by the fierceness with which I hung on to my nose. “O, this is very delicate-smelling compared to some cheeses I have sniffed,” said Murdock. “In fact, it is so delicate as to lead me to believe it came from a delicatessen.”

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THE HUTTLESTONIAN 25 They turned, and seeing the officer, they surrendered. The policeman “did his duty” and with Lareau’s aid, led the old man to another place of residence. We remained behind to question the old lady as to their motives. “O,” said she. “Dat Lareau he ruin de delicatessan trade wid his sniff concerts, so we stop heem.” “So I supposed,” said Murdock. “But why was your husband greasing the aerial?” asked I. Murdock answered me, “To make the cheese slide off more easily. Am I right?” The woman nodded. Murdock smiled triumphantly. Where¬ upon, he snatched a bouquet from a vase and humbly presented it to himself. FREDERICK MOSS and WARREN PAGE, ’27. The cross-word puzzle is an intensively rectangular but essentially heterogeneous concatenation of dissimilar verbal syn¬ onymic similitudes, replete with internal inhibition , yetj promulgating extensive ratiocination and meticulously designed to promote fulminative vituperation, dispel hebetudinesity and develop speculative, con¬ templative, introspective, deliberative and cogitative faculties. “Twin Mutual Insurance Topics”