Fairhaven High School - Huttlestonian Yearbook (Fairhaven, MA)

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THE HUTTLESTONIAN A Fourth of July Picnic wwT don’t care anything about going to that Fourth of July picnic, X ’Lizbeth,” remarked a smoothly attired young gentlman to the object of his devotion as they stood on the front porch of her house. “All right, perhaps we can have just as good a time here,” said Elizabeth, glancing with a twinkle in her eye at Jim’s clothing which betrayed an intention other than that of a Fourth of July Celebration. They walked over to one end of the porch and seated themselves at extreme ends of the hammock. The silence became oppressive. Some boys who had been setting off fire works in the street now had their heads together as if in secret conference, “Wonder what’s up,” ventured Jim, seizing this trifling incident as an opportunity to break the deadly silence and, at the same time, wriggling three inches ' closer to Elizabeth. “Some childish prank probably,” replied Elizabeth, trying hard to appear at ease. The matter was dropped for it had served its purpose: that of starting the conversation. Things went better now and there was barely a foot separating the couple when matters took on a different aspect. A thunderous explosion followed by a shriek of terror and a cry of pain rent the peaceful air and brought the couple back to earth most cruely. “You just wait until Papa comes home, Willie,” wailed a feminine voice as the would-be admirer sped down the street endeavoring to cover with his hands a vital wound in his trousers, while underneath the porch Willie and his band of culprits strove vainly to supress their hilarious mirth. Raymond Mitchell, ’29 [ 25 ]

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THE HUTTLESTONIAN A Freshman ' s First Day at High School The first day of school dawned; for fear Fd be late, I rushed from my house on the first stroke of eight. My walk through the park was a record in speed, A track team had nothing on me, no indeed! To High School I hurried my heart beating fast; Its windows seemed grinning at me, hastening past. And into the high school I entered a “Frosh,” My knees all ashake and myself at a loss. A schoolroom so spacious before us we saw, We entered and each took his seat, filled with awe. Yes, into a classroom, dominion of “House,” Each pupil did tiptoe as still as a mouse. And following assembly hi room each one sought “The mazes of rooms are confusing,” we thought. Then into a small room we suddenly did dive, And looking about us—“So here’s Latin five?” From the walls stared the heroes of Rome and of Gaul “Portant tela” and “Anna” they gazed on us all. Next down to 1 the lunchroom, as hungry as bears, And all upper classmen had beat us downstairs. The wait for our tickets prolonged seemed to be, “Sophs,” Juniors and Seniors all served before me 1 A grab for a sandwich, a cookie—two cents, Some quick mental figuring to find the expense. Inquired at the window “No, soup is all out.” And all upper classmen are furnished, no doubt! A gobbling, a stuffing, “Oh! There goes the bell!” A rush to our home room; this day went off well! SuSANNE GlDLEY, ’31 [ 24 ]

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THE HUTTLESTONIAN The Little Waif O NE day, while we were talking to a friend that owns hunting dogs, he said, “Wouldn’t you like to see my new, pedigreed rabbit hound ?” We expressed delight and asked him to bring his dog the following day. The next day, true to his promise, our friend came riding up and took from his machine a dilapidated, dejected, dirty little white dog. His ears hung down, his eyes rolled, his tail was between his legs. One of his eyes seemed to be larger than the other because of a black rim around it which gave him a sinister appearance. He was the most forlorn looking creature that we had ever laid eyes on! Our friend said, “What do you think of him?” Not wishing to be discourteous, no one answered. Finally, after a long pause, one of the group said, “That is no rabbit hound,” at which, the friend burst out laughing. He then explained. A man he knew who kept valuable dogs had just had his widowed sister come to live with him, bringing her little dog, no bigger than a rabbit. Her dog used to excite the dogs in the kennels by barking, so the man would beat him and treat him cruelly. When our friend happened to be talking to the man, that day, he told him about this dog and his intentions of shooting him. The gentleman, feeling sorry for the poor little abused creature and because of his love for dogs asked to take the pup. Then, thinking of his promise to us, he thought it would be a huge joke to bring him instead of his hound and also he hoped, secretly, that we would keep him and give him a good home. Our hearts went out to the pup, so we took him in and bathed him. He became a much loved pet and we named him “Snubs.” About six months later, when a machine drove into the yard, we were greatly amazed to have Snubs run under the table, shivering all over, growling and snarling. He had never acted this way in all the months we had had him. When the man came into view we realized that this was the man who had so shamefully mistreated our Snubs. On the other hand, whenever a certain car is heard in a distance, our little dog jumps and barks joyously. When our friend, who rescued him gets out of his auto Snubs runs up to him to play. He plays with him as he never has played with anyone else. This summer, down at the camp, as we were driving off one evening, we noticed Snubs barking excitedly at the bushes. We thought nothing (Continued on page 30 ) l 26 ]