Fitchburg High School - Boulder Yearbook (Fitchburg, MA)

Page 15 text:

REFLECTIONS to come down on the shaft, and as it approached I made out the form of an aged man, who was per- fectly transparent. In his hand was a glittering steel. I lay still, rigid, at the sight. The form approached me. I tried to escape. I could not move. Then a thick cloud enveloped me and I could see nothing but gray fog. A deep voice, sounding far away, rolled out, “Thou hast rightly believed the record of this class worthy of preservation. Thou hast rightly de- sired to be remembered. Thou shalt write its his- tory.” I was stunned. I who loathed the sight of a history ? I write a history ? I tried to think of the deeds of the freshman year, but horrors! I could not recall a single thing. Then came again that deep and mournful voice, “Thou shalt recall all things if thou wilt endure. Canst thou bear much for the sake of th3 class?” and my voice uttered a weak “Yes.” Immediately I felt a fierce stab in my heart and a drop of blood oozed out. It fell into the mist and appeared before my e es. It changed into a heart and grew so large and lifelike that I was frightened. Then on the red heart I beheld the gra3 letters, P-R-o-G-R-E-s-s-i-o-N. These disappeared and the sur- face of the heart grew clear and transparent so that I could see what was happening within. I saw a crowd of little children marching, march- ing up the stairs. When they arrived at the top, with awed faces and hushed voices (signs of the annual entering advice to freshmen), the3 gazed at the picture-bedecked walls, at the odd desks, at the numerous alcoves, and some were beginning to make themselves at home, when — consternation ! The3 were politely informed to take the elevator to the floor below. Fourth floor to the third floor. Already de- scending I ' „ 13

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c HE cool evening air fanned my brow and genth X swayed the hammock in which I lay gazing at the Moon. Not a star was to be seen and the sk} looked misty and eold. The Moon’s frozen aspeet sent chilly shivers over me. I felt as if something was going to happen. My thoughts, however, soon turned to my sehool life and I found myself indiffer- ently wondering if the Moon or her people had looked down and seen the wonderful happenings and events in the history of the famous elass of 1903. It really seemed to me not at all improbable that the remotest star in the sky had watched our progress, and in fact I am sure that on the night of our graduation the entire family of stars had beamed more brightly than ever before, and for what other possible reason than interest and pride in our elass ? I wondered if a record of its accomplishments would be handed down to generations to eome, and I said, half in fun, half in earnest, “O Moon, grant that the record of my class may be written and preserved.” Just then the unexpected happened. The Moon slowly turned around onee and burst into a flash of light. Then the flash died out and a thin, haz 3 shaft of mist de- seended to the earth. A small white speek appeared 12

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REFLECTIONS The scene faded away and another aj peared. In this my honored classmates appeared active. They seemed to be sj ending their time with inanimate objects. A tall boy was joyfully embracing a broom. A short bo3 was tenderU picking paper from the floor. Another whom I easily recognized by his gen- ial smile was triumphantly scrubbing the sink. Oth- ers were eagerly vicing with each other in their attempts to dust the room, and still others were happily engaged in collecting tacks, gleaming, hun- gry-looking tacks, from the chair seats. Already, in their early youth, their irrepressible love of work was appearing. As this scene faded another took its place. A large hall was in view, some stairs leading down at the right. Scattered around on the floor were some pieces of white substance — here a nose, there an ear, yonder a piece of an eye. It seemed to me that the pieces collected and put together would remarkably resemble the features of Daniel Webster. A tall, stern, 3 et kind-looking man appeared to be tacking a notice up on the wall. It read : FRESHMEN BANISHED FROM THIRD FLOOR. A crowd of children were pushing their way down the stairs. Some were indignant, others were crying. Not one was laughing. One little fellow with hazel eyes and dark hair gave the sign a vicious kick as he departed. I looked at the children and my heart felt heavy with sorrow for them, for they were my classmates in their first year of trouble. Evidently their worth had not yet been discovered. Third floor to basement! What a drop! As the last little fellow disappeared the heart began to melt into tiny drops 14