Hamilton High School - Hamiltonian Yearbook (South Hamilton, MA)

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Literary Department AN ADVENTURE ANCY had practically every- thing that she desired. This was due to the fact that she was the pretty, eighteen-year- old, only daughter of well-to-do-parents, and of course she was spoiled and in a way she was not to blame for this fault of hers. It was pouring on this adventurous day; pouring it was, and pouring it had been for three consecutive days, and to all appearance pour it would for some- time to come. Nancy was alone in the big house Her mother had not been well, so fol- lowing the advice of her physician, her husband and she had gone on a yachting trip to the southern sea. They did not like to leave Nancy alone, but she begged so hard to be allowed to stay for the “grand event of the season,” that they, like many a fond parent, had consented. This “event of the season,” was a re- ception given in honor of Macolm Brownley, a promising young author of twenty-three, who was to make his first visit at the “Glades,” the summer home of Nancy’s aunt. He had written a book on the higher elements in electric- ity. Nancy had just tried to read it, but it was “too deep,” to use her own expression, and she closed it a bit dis- gusted. She had tried a little of everything this afternoon but could find nothing that would hold her interest for any length of time. At last she decided that the best thing she could do was to go for a long tramp in the rain. As soon as she thought of it, the thought was acted upon. Hastily she drew on rubbers, a long rain-coat and tarn, and started out, leaving the house quietly so the old housekeeper would not endeavor to stop her. Taking a road not well known to her, she walked along busily engaged in the rather unpleasant occupation of self- pity. While thus engaged, she suddenly sat down with great force. Now be- coming really angry, she picked herself up only to find that she could not bear her weight on her right foot, without causing her considerable pain. With tears of anger in her eyes, she limped to a stone wall, and sat down wishing fer- vently that she had never been born. While thinking these bitter thoughts, a large Newfoundland dog came run- ning up and thrust his head into her lap and looked up into her face, as much as to say, “Why so sober?” “Come here Rex,” came a deep pleas- ant voice indistinctly to her ear. After the repitition of the call several times, which had no effect, a young man of perhaps twenty-three appeared, dressed in a gray tweed suit. He wore no hat, and his dark hair was rumpled by the wind and rain until it fairly stood on end. Upon seeing Nency, he stopped, stared for a moment and then seeming to find his voice politely said, “I beg your pardon for Rex’s unusual behavior. He doesn’t, as a rule make friends with strangers. You look as if he had frightened you, or as if some-

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ilaUnwf’rn When jack o’ lanterns throw their rays, And ghostly figures creep, When children toss from side to side. Afraid to go to sleep, When goblins make astir each heart And houses with parties gleam. It brings us back again once more. To the mysteries of Hallowe’en. Each childish dream is then fulfilled And pranks are their delight. They try how many scares to plan. To give each one a fright. And when at last the time draws near. And their hearts with terror gleam. They are the ones who are wide awake. To the mysteries of Hallowe’en. Anna Poole, ’25

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THE HAMILTONIAN 5 thing were the matter. Is there any- thing I can do to help you?” It was asked in such a friendly way that Nency told him about her accident. Telling her to remain where she was for a few minutes, he made her comfortable, and disappeared. Soon she heard the noise of a motor and her benefactor came in sight driving a small car of foreign make. He helped Nancy in and then inquired where she would wish him to take her. After a few minutes of awkwardness, conversation came without effort. Nancy in a complaining voice, told him that it was awful to have hurt her ankle at just this time when tomorrow night was to be the “wonderful night,” when the reception was to be given in honor of Macolm Brownley. In a surprised and amused tone her escort told her he was to be there, and perhaps by that time tomorrow her an- kle would be well enough for her to go. This encouraged her extremely and she even managed to smile, and said, “Well, I hope so.” On arriving home she was very kindly received, although she did come in for a scolding from the old housekeeper, who was more like a member of the family than a servant. The next day was spent in prepara- tion for the evening. Her ankle, after having been tightly bound, was regain- ing its strength, and by noon she walked with scarcely a limp. That afternoon the preparations were delayed by a tel- ephone call from Nancy’s best girl friend, Jean Hale, who explained that she couldn’t wait to tell Nency that she had been on the piazza, when Macolm Brownley had gone by and he was “per- fectly stunning.” As he drove by he had smiled at her. And the car was “a peach.” This had its effect on Nancy. Al- though she tried hard to appear de- lighted by her friend’s good luck, she could not help but pity herself, because even if she was introduced to him he would not look at her, limping around, much less ask her to dance. Her only hope was gone, all on account of a little stone ! At nine o’clock Nancy and Jean en- tered the dressing room and removed their wraps. Everyone was talking about the author, and pitying Nancy for her misfortune. On entering the hall Mrs. Grendale, Nancy’s aunt, smiled sweetly on them and took them up to be introduced to the Macolm Brownley. Perhaps you will give Nancy credit when she did not let on by word, look, or action that she had met Macolm be- fore, as she was introduced to a nice young man with dark hair which re- fused to stay in place. You can imagine the envious looks cast at her when Macolm Brownley sat out not only one but many “ones” with her, and chattered like an old friend. So the afternoon walk of the day be- fore was certainly not to be scorned, and Nancy even thought of going back to try and find the stone for her memory book. The next day Jean came over to Nancy’s and asked her how she ever did “it.” Nancy did not think it necessary to impart her knowledge on the subject,, however, lest she be the cause of many sprained ankles. Years later Macolm and Nancy were still talking of the “luck of a rainy day, a dog and a stone.” — Lucy Cook.