Hanover High School - Hanoverian Yearbook (Hanover, MA)

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22 THE HANOVERIAN FOILED Here! Here! Get out of my yard. How many times must I tell you that I don't want you in here? These words came from an elderly bachelor, who was driving some children out of his yard. This bachelor had always lived alone and as the children said probably always would live alone because he was too grouchy for anyone to live with. No one was allowed in his yard to slay nothing of being allowed in his house. That is why the children called him Grouchy . When the children had been chased away, Grouchy went in and sat down, saying to himself, I really like children sometimes but I just don't know how to treat them. I would let them come in here once in a while but then they would want to be here all of the time and I would have no peace. At this moment the door-bell rang. Those pesky chil- dren again ? thought the bachelor. This time I'll fix them good. He took a pail of water and opened the door. Much to his surprise, however, he saw before him, not the naughty chil- dren, but a large basket. Whatever can be in that basket, he exclaimed, Perhaps those kids are up to their tricks again. I guess I'll let it stay there. With these words he turned, but his curiosity got the best of him so he Went back to look at the basket. It was very large and there were two or three blankets on top. He laid these back, stared in astonishment, then cried ex- citedly, My goodness! It is a baby! However did it get here and whatever shall I do with it? Grouchy finally decided to call up the Children's Home and have someone come after the baby. He stalked to the telephone but suddenly changing his mind he said to himself, I guess I'll keep the baby and have a nurse for it. It might make me feel younger and not so grouchy if I had a little child around. The bachelor went back to the steps and brought the basket in. He heard a smothered laugh behind the hedge. At the same time he heard a baby wailing across the street and he said, Oh dear, I can't have any such noise as that around here. I guess the most sensible thing to do is to send the baby away after all. The Children's Home was called this time and a woman came to the bachelor's house to get the baby. She pulled the

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THE HANOVERIAN 21 And I should like to know why he should, Jack replied smilingly. I guess I have a right to be in my own car. Your car ? gasped Evelyn. Of course it's my car, now tell me what the mystery is. Oh, I might have known I couldn't beat a Warren, she sobbed, and told her story from beginning to end. You don't mean Tom Warrens, the horse trader, Evelyn? he asked when she had finished. Yes , she assured him, Tom Warrens, the horse trader. Why Evelyn, he died three months ago. My father's name is Tom too, but he wasn't any relation. Evelyn dried her tears. Oh I'm so glad, Jack, she cried and then as he took the wheel, started the engine and the car glided along. Where are we going, Jack ? To meet the real Tom Warrens, he laughed, and the little blue roadster shot down the street carrying two of the happiest people on earth. Eva Shurtleff, '27, THE WILD FREE BIRD A cold, gray storm swept over the sea, And dashed its spiteful spray on me- The Wild, free bird. I laughed in the teeth of the angry Wind, I skipped o'er the ragged Wave's crest., That storm freed me, the maid who sinned, Who drowning, at last found rest. The deep, dark clouds came up at night, And snatched away every vestage of light From me, abandoned maid. Oh God! It was a morbid night! - The dank winds blew on my faceg I jumped from the wharf 3 I hid from the lightf- Of me, was found never a trace. The dark, swirling waters sucked me ing They purged my soulg they drank my sin 3 Made me a Wild, free bird. Katherine Townsend, '27.

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THE HANOVERIAN 23 blankets back and picked up a large doll. Grouchy stared, the lady stared. Then the angry woman burst into a tirade against the stingy old man. The poor fellow had forgotten it was April Fools' day. Helen Graham, '28. THE EXTREME OF FASHION I suppose I really must have a new suit, Professor Dans- berry reluctantly asserted to himself. I don't know how long I have had this one but it's worn almost threadbaref' The Professor, a tall, thin man with gray hair and old fashion spectacles perched back on his somewhat high forehead, sat in a large, roomy chair in the school library. His lap was full of books, the contents of which he had been greedily absorbing. Clothes were something, as his appearance showed, which he regarded as a matter of course, but every so often he decided he must buy something new, and this happened to be one of the days. So he hastily placed his hat on his head and started to town. On his way his mind was so absorbed in the literature which he had been reading that he noticed no one who passed him, even though they spoke to him. Presently, the professor came to a dry-goods store, and went in. One of the clerks amusedly waited on him while he bought a suit of black and white check, with splashes of green and other bright colors, here and there. It was evidently intended for a masquerade. - After searching several minutes for his wallet he finally found it in a pocket of his vest, which was on Wrong side out. He paid the clerk and taking up the bundles which were on the counter prepared to leave, not realizing that he had taken one which belonged to a lady standing near. Professor Dansberry walked back to the school and absent- mindedly donned the contents of the bundles. When he entered the classroom with an armful of books he gazed innocently at each laughing face. But who could blame them for laughing ?-for the professor was wearing the new suit minus collar and necktie and-a green silk petticoat. Laura A. Whiting, '27.