Fitchburg High School - Boulder Yearbook (Fitchburg, MA)

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closed my eyes. I dreamed many strange . things that night, among which I beheld Madden and O’Dca playing baseball. They told me they would rather j lay ball than eat, and sure enough they were gobbling up everything in sight. The next day, there being a circus in town, I went to see how they managed such affairs in the middle of the earth. I found it was slightly different in the m mner of production, although the performers were far better. I joined the throng which was hurry- ing up to the ticket seller’s booth. Ah! who was that tall man with black, curly hair, raking in the money ? It needed but one glance to see that it was McCarthy, our class treasurer. There he was, deftly making change, while the crowd surged about the stand. After buying my ticket I happened to walk to the back of the stand, and noticed that his ])ockets were bulging. He was “keeping the change,’’ without a doubt. Farther on a gentleman wearing a large, flashy diamond was extolling the merits of the side show. “Right this way, ladies and gents, to see the great and only living Zip, the what-is-it? and many other freaks too numerous to mention. Right this way, only 10 cents, one dime, takes you all the way through. How many? Three? Ah, thank you, sir!’’ Could this fellow be the quiet, unobtrusive Dole of our school- days? Alas, ’twas too true. Upon entering I found Raymond act- ing as a tent pole. The Maney curiosities were on exhibition, so I proceeded to take them in. First was the $10,000 beauty, as pictured by Miss Quinlan. Needless to say, “Little E va’’ was drawing a large crowd. The second stand was labeled “Lengthy Long,’’ the wonder of the age, whose growth was so remarkable that he now stood ten feet above the platform. I knew, however, that Boland always was “stilted,’’ and that “Lengthy” was reduced several feet after each performance. At the third Stand were the Siamese Twins. He! Lowe! They were up to their old tricks, making eyes at the boys. I was just trying to get near Donahoe, the strong man, about whom w ' ere four men vainly try- ing to lift his hat, when — crash — ! A horse, on which was Mile. Hersom, smashed through the canvas from the main nt and spread confusion throughout the crowd. I made a jump and seized the frightened horse. The lady equestrian then asked me if I would like to view the workings of the circus from behind the .scenes, and as I replied in the affirmative, she showed me to a 21

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for hairpins at the novelty counter, over wliieh Miss Ileaure anl presided. Hy this time iny nerves were almost nnstrun trom the nmisnal excitement, so I made up my mind to pass the even- ing- at the theater. I arrived during the middle of the first aet, and while perusing- the ])ro ram, which had “Curtis’ Theater” in larg e tvi)e at the head, I noticed that the ])erformance, “The In- noeent Maids,” was under the ])ersonal supervision of Curtis himself. The Caiety Girls sang several of the latest song hits, among which were “ MeCarthy’s Great Home Run,” and ])aro- dies upon the “ Red and Gray.” I complimented the management on being so lueky as to secure such a dazzling bunch of beauties. Here they are: Gaiety Girls — Misses McNamara, Blanchard, Bigelow, Spread- bury, Leahy and Nash, with Miss Murphy as leading lad The next was a little skit entitled “When We Were Twenty- Three.” The following were billed here: Misses Babb (soloist), McKcnne} Nutting, Walsh, Wilkins, Mossman, and Farwell (come- dian). The article on the ])rogram said, “The luimes are enough.” Sure enough they were! At the end of the act the ])ieture ma ' chine started u]). The title of the film was “A Comedy of Er- rors.” The machine whirred, but all that appeared upon the screen was a few stars. These gradually resolved into what seemed to be l)all players. Yes! They were several members of the F. H. S. ball nine of 1906 playing that memorable game with Gardner; the stars that stood out the most prominently were Murphy, t he Midget, Wyman the Giant, and Ford the Fat. It was rightly named “The Comedy of Errors.” This was too mueh. The memory of that inglorious game caused the tears to flow copiously, and I arose and went out, noting as I left that DesRivieres still had the nerve to manage the machine. Upon inquiring for the best hotel in the place, a boy informed me that the Wilder House was the one I wanted. On arriving, the night clerk. Manning, assigned me to Room 13 and tapped the bell. Immediately the “bell hopper” came gliding in and led me to my room. I handed him a ten-dollar note for a tip. “Tanks,” he said, “but you’se oughter make it thirteen to break the hoodoo.” I then knew that he was none other than Ker- shaw, always looking for a little more. It astonished me, I ad- mit, for I expected to see “Bug” nothing less than a Standard Oil magnate. Surprises like this had wearied me and sleep soon 20

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seat from which I could view the rings and also the many per- formers about to go on. The ladies’ orchestra, directed by Miss Manna, struck up a lively march, and a scjuad of pretty horse- women, among whom were Misses Gage, Conroy, Butterfield, Roy, Smith, Sarkin, McHugh, Robinson and Bennett, charged into the arena, with the dashing Miss Stock well at the head, while Miss Pickels served as her lieutenant. They were arrayed in bril- liant armor, and carried shields of mosquito netting to keep the dies off with. A more brilliant company of amazons I for one had never seen. Miss Belding rode a Shetland pony, while Miss Leiper was mounted on a hobby-horse, bringing up the rear and doing funny stunts which kept the enormous crowd in a perfect uproar. I inquired who managed the show, and was informed that it belonged to the Hayes Syndicate, with B. H. Hayes as active manager. He employed the glib-tongued Robbins as advance agent, and the versatile, many-sided Raabe as editor of the programmes. At the close of the performance I returned to my hotel, where I experienced a drowsy, languid sensation, and after summoning a doctor I went to my room, where I fell upon the bed and became unconscious. When I awoke, after what seemed a long sleep, I saw the diminutive “Doc” Miller bending over me, looking anxiously into my face. I didn’t understand the situation, so I yelled, “What’s up. Doc?” “Don’t talk now,” he said, “you have been in a comatose state for two days, due to overstudy, in which time your imaginative brain communicated with the hand, causing it to write what is here set down. The spiritualistic mediae aver that 3 ou have been in communication with the spirits of prophecy.” “Then there wasn’t any class reunion, or terrible explosion?” I questioned. “No, nothing at all, merely your wonderful imagination,” he answered. “Then the High school must still be standing, if there was no explosion,” I continued. “Yes, and it will continue to stand unless your wonderful prophecy eomes true and some member of your class discovers this remarkable explosive which you herald, and drops it in the manner 22