Greenfield High School - Evergreen / Exponent Yearbook (Greenfield, MA)

Page 22 text:

12 THE EXPONENT between the acts. We all admit that the perform¬ ance was a great success and are proud of this achievement. Soon after “Lady Ursula,” two charming plays were given in chapel by the modern language de¬ partment; a German play, “Unter Vier Augen,” and a Spanish play, “Manana de Sol.” Then in May, the “Prom” given us by the 23d regiment was one of the finest affairs we ever at¬ tended. All of us danced until nearly unconscious to the inspiring strains of Tinker ' s musical artists, and ate and drank until we could eat and drink no more! Our last victory was gained on the Debating Field when our shrewd and clever squad defeated the squad of the 23d regiment in a hotly contested battle concerning the control of the Penal Institu¬ tions. Great was our joy when the decision was given in our favor and Colonel Nims put the Lov¬ ing Cup into the hands of Capt. Feldberg amidst the ringing cheers and applause of our comrades. From June 19th to 23d, we encountered the Finsjams for the last time in a mighty struggle. Most of us came out the victors, brave and un¬ daunted. So now and here, this morning, we are surrender¬ ing our packs to old G. H. S. and looking forward tonight to the big time at the Alumni meeting, and to Thursday night when we shall fully win our objective,—the diploma, from the hands of Gen¬ eralissimo Stetson. ELLEN E. JONES ' 22, FRED M. MAGOON ' 22. SENIOR CLASS PROPHECY P —Pasadena—station PBCRO speaking! P B C R 0 M— Hello, PBCRO! Station MGCL tuned in. Where are you and who are you? P —PBCRO—Pasadena, Cal.,—Phil O’Hara, op¬ erator. I was trying to get Liverpool, Eng¬ land, when you— M—Do I understand clearly what you said, “Phil O’Hara, operator?” P —As sure as I’m of a sacred profession, it’s none other than Phil O’Hara, and who may you be? M —Well, well! This is Muriel Crosier, situated at Boston, Mass., and only 100 miles from G. H. S. Do you ever stop to think of the good times we had there in ’22 and here it is 1935. Doesn’t the time go like radio? P —Well, Bud, I’d never have supposed you’d be in on me. So you’re in Boston, eh? What do you do to kill time? M —Nothing much, just assisting Dr. Pinky Croft, Veterinary Surgeon. P —So Pinky is a Veterinary Surgeon, eh? Well, well! I thought he’d be a professional dancer. And you’re his assistant. I heard you and he skipped college and eloped. M—That’s why I say I’m his assistant. And what is your pastime? P —Oh, me? I’m leader of the “Lost Chord Jazz Orchestra.” Marianne Jones is my violinist. We do quite a little work at the “Home for Deaf People.” They appreciate it. Our form is so good. Say—have you heard what has happened to Bostley? M—Why no—that is—not all that happened to him. I heard he made some sort of a wager. About—about a lady, wasn’t it? P —Yes, his Doris left him and he swore he’d go where women were true, so now he’s a pro¬ fessional lady-killer in South Africa. M—South Africa! Well, what do you know about that? Have you heard the news about Paul Mazuzan? P —Why, no, did you hear anything? M—I was in on RBH the other day and I- heard he was on a farm raising Hawks. How about Alberta Couture? P —Well, it’s queer, but she is playing the piano with the orchestra in the Old Howard Theatre in Boston. M—It’s queer that I haven’t seen her. Where is your dear friend Betty Freshour? P —Oh, Betty? No flies on her! She’s House Nurse at the White House in Washington. M—That’s nice, isn’t it? And Harvey Leacock? I heard a bell-hop paging me at the Copley- Plaza the other night. He had such a deep bass voice that I turned to get a good look at him and it turned out to be John Harvey! P —I do declare! That reminds me of Elsie Erhart. I went to a Carnival the other night and found Elsie playing the part of a barker very successfully. There she was, perched on a soap box in the front of a Hula Hula tent. M—I always knew Elsie would rise in the world. Have you heard about Ed McLaughlin? P —No—what’s Ed’s line? M—He’s gone into business with Henry Ford. Ed always did have an eye for money. Say, have you heard anything from Bill Andrews lately? P —Oh, yes! He’s an author, you know, and he presented me with his latest book, “Rules of Etiquette as Practised by Me.” M—Good for Bill. I hope you profited by the book. P —You’re as impudent as ever, aren’t you? But give me a line on Ellen Jones. M—Ellen? Oh, she lived here in Boston for awhile. She’s an artist now, in New York. I always knew she’d devote her life to Art. Say, have you seen any good operas lately out—

Page 21 text:

THE EXPONENT 11 Tattle kept us on duty all hours of the night, but, ' much to our relief, the enemy finally went away. Many of our regiment suffered keenly; some were wounded so badly that they had to stay behind, or be helped along with the aid of the staff. Now when the besiegers had gone, all planned for a good time. The Colonel called a meeting of our regiment for the purpose of choosing a place for a picnic. Lake Spofford was decided upon, so the regiment shouldered their pack of eats and journeyed there. Everyone enjoyed himself, even on the way home. A short while afterwards, training and drill were abandoned, and all the regiment wore serious faces. We said farewell to the 21st regiment, at one of the best “Proms” that was ever given to a Senior regiment. Snappy music, artistic deco¬ rations, and delicious eats gave everyone a whoop¬ ing good time. Then, after a few days, we solemnly and silently watched the older soldiers pick their way out of the old stronghold to join expeditions for other lands. In this way, we were left alone to enjoy a fur¬ lough of two months. Senior Year We returned for duty after our vacation, fresh and ready to work. In fact, we were so energetic that the Rookies looked enviously at us and ex¬ claimed, “Behold, the Senior soldiers.” Now when the routine work was over, we all were ordered to rooms 9 and 11 for a regimental conference. All agreed that we needed a working plan so Gen. Smith, Chief-of-Staff, submitted a Constitution. In order to carry out this plan, how¬ ever, we asked Lieutenant-General Hamilton to act as Parliamentarian. During the Conference we elected our officers. Tom Nims and Muriel Crosier were reelected Colonel and Lieut-Colonel respectively. Gertrude Miller was chosen as Ad¬ jutant, Bill Andrews and Bob Alberti, Sergeants, a clever and strategic head to lead our regiments all agreed. The annual battle with the Shelburne Falls war¬ riors was held on Franklin field, and repeating their last year’s feat, again made us go under the yoke. The score was close, 56 to 52, one of the fiercest battles ever staged on the field. The next day, there was a great deal of hustling and bustling, when the popular cry was heard, “Let’s give that bunch a thrashing in football.” Andrews, McLaughlin, and Nichols all started out to carry this into effect. Accordingly we met the Arms legion on Green River field and slaughtered them to the whitewashing score of 40 to 0. Things began to get down to working order again, when a request from the “Hoppers” was served on the Chief-of-Staff, asking for a dance. “Flop’s Syncopaters” were hired and all danced to their hearts’ content. Brig. Gen. Nichols again called for recruits for the basketball squad. Andrews, Bostley, McLaugh¬ lin, and O’Hara responded and helped boost the team. Nevertheless it lacked experience, and was a little upset by the factor aggregations. The next thing we heard was in the form of an order saying that the several English classes would have debating squads. Everyone knew that the English Department was getting in some of its “deep-stuff,” yet, all enjoyed the work since the debates were keenly contended and interesting. Our next sensation was in the nature of a visitor. Inspector “Good-English Week” examined our fortress and nearly covered the place with posters reminding us of our speech. Some way of other, this gentleman arrested “Bill” Andrews for using undignified and slangy expressions. His trial was divided into two scenes; the first of which was more of a minstrel show, while the latter was the celebrated court case. After due deliberation, Andrews was found guilty and just punishment was imposed for his bad expressions. Now after this legal matter had passed, we were granted a furlough through Xmas. Our thinking helmets and packs of thoughts were cast off in order that we might enjoy ourselves. During this leave of absence, a football dance was given in Washington Hall. Its purpose was to raise money for gold footballs and to give the team a banquet. Judging by the size of the crowd, the members of the squadron either received ordinary size foot¬ balls of gold or else were filled to bursting with eats. After this vacation, the sun must have eloped with his shadow, the moon, because everything seemed dark and dismal. Even Fleming forgot to talk and Tom Nims forgot his financial enterprises when the “Midjams” came again to bombard us. Some of us came through with flying colors while others lay about wounded, and dying. Work was begun at once in nursing the injured and the staff helped materially at this work. In fact, many of them were decorated with crosses, which they dis¬ played very plainly in the recitation rooms. From this time on, nothing worth noting oc¬ curred until the preparations for our regiment’s play began. Then all was hustle and bustle until the performance was moulded into shape. Finally this play, “The Adventure of Lady Ursula,” was given two nights in the Congregational Parish House, with Betty Freshou r and Vincent Bostley taking the leading roles, backed up by a star cast in every respect. The profits somewhat augmented our treasury, due in part to the members of the regiment who took the “sweet job” of selling candy

Page 23 text:

yz y sy 2 yzy 2 y 2 y 2 yz- THE EXPONENT 13 P —I should hope to say! Why, say, Bud, I saw an old friend of ours in one last night. —You did? Whom? —Anna Flynn. She’s acting as a foghorn in the Light-house Scene in the Grand Bunkem Opera Co. You know she always did like het voice. —Anna on the stage? Well, she’s not the only one. I was down in the Big Town the other night and I dropped into the Hippodrome. Imagine my surprise upon seeing Grace Stone and Madeline Holmes appear—Grace as a toe dancer and Madeline, a ballet dancer. They brought the house down. —I should imagine they might. The stage seems to draw a lot of us, doesn’t it? I saw Blanche Braman in the movies the other night. She has taken Nazimova’s place as the vamp. —Have you seen any of the class of ’22 to talk to? Yes—I was talking with Sam Cameron the other day. He’s touring the country, lectur¬ ing on “Why we should close up the crater of Vesuvius.” —Well, we never know our luck, do we? I was in on Station XLQ a few weeks ago and I heard quite a bit of news. You remember Skinny Verville, of course. —You bet I do. —Well, he’s janitor at Bay Path Institute. —I believe I know the attraction. By the way, I was reading about Walter Campbell and saw that he was training snails for racing purposes. —Some speed! But I didn’t finish telling you about my tuning in on XLQ. Gertrude John¬ son has bought out Michelman’s store and Rollena Lee is a swimming and diving in¬ structor at Lake Pleasant. —Good work. I’ll— —Say, let me finish. Remember those “Rules of Etiquette.” Nellie Wells has bought out the Greenfield Gift Shop and— —Yes, yes, but before I forget, I want to tell you about Helen Baker. —Helen? Hurry up. What is she doing? —She’s matron at a girls’ boarding school, per¬ sonally teaching them the rules of matrimony. You know she always did know. Now, go on. M—Well, Gladys Sessler has taken Miss Ashley’s place. P —A lot of fun for the kids! How’s her friend, Vera Scott? M—Oh, haven’t you heard? Her uncle who made Scott’s Emulsion died and left her all his money. P —Hot tomale! I see Bill Arms is an actor. He takes the lead in “The Wanderer.” M —Good for him. Have you heard anything about Sarah Baxter? P—I was reading in an eastern paper that she married a fellow up in Winchester, N. H. M —Hmmm. Sarah always did like Winchester. And Dot Lyman has formed the Women’s Volunteer Militia. The call to “Arms” was too strong to resist. P—I hear Hazel Anderson is a Psychologist with the Ding Ding Bros. Circus. M —Yes, and Mildred Phillips is here in Boston. She’s opened up a dressmaking establishment. Mildred always did love to use a “needle. P—Edna Carpenter is teaching Biology at Yale College. M— Good—Say you remember Olive Hutchins? She’s opened a beauty parlor here—specializ¬ ing in bobbed hair. She always was long on short hair, you remember. P—Sure, I remember. What do you think of Homer? M —Homer who? P—Homer Clark, of course! He defeated Jack Dempsey for the Heavyweight title. M— He isn’t the only one who is earning his living with his hands. Jo Fiske is penmanship in¬ structor at Mount Holyoke. P—You know, of course, that Agnes Finnie is the Dean there? M —Oh, yes, I read about that. Speaking about reading, have you read, “Across the Country in a Pony Cart,” by Ruth Putnam? P—No, is it good? M—I’ll say it is. Actual experiences and every¬ thing. P—Louise Donovan is a poet. She’s down in Greenwich Village, writing at present. M —How’s her friend, Lydia? P—Oh, she’s an instructor at Sargent. M —What’s she specializing in? P—Reducing. You know she always did hate to be the least bit fat. M—Good for her. Say, have you been in Wash¬ ington lately and visited Congress? P—Well, I should hope to smoke a rubber boot, I have! And whom did I run into but Irving Feldberg! Brandeis resigned from the Su¬ perior Court Bench and Feldberg is in his place. M —That’s what I was going to tell you and I h ear Mike Dunnigan is in Washington, too. P—Yes, and he’s wearing a D. S. C. M —Distinguished Service Cross! Why, what war was he in? P—No, no! Not Distinguished Service Cross! District Street Cleaning! The bank was too