Hanover High School - Hanoverian Yearbook (Hanover, MA)

Page 27 text:

THE HANOVERIAN 25 . ...luil,U-UQUQUQU-4YQUQOQUQUQKYQlYQ!,QiYQUQU-DUQOQUQUQUDOQOQClQllQ0,0QUDO,K,:f ! ! Q 0 0 L E T c 0 i o o 8 91xinrizif1101011xicviirimxiir11iix103434x11111xxxrit:ii1101u141ioioixrxoioiuicriwzo THE GREY HAXVK QFirst Priscj A huge knight sat upon his horse on a hill o'erlooking a plain where a fierce battle raged. He was tall and power- fully built. His handsome face was lean and sunburned to a deep golden brown that only comes after long hours spent in the open. His large grey eyes, shadowed by curling black lashes, held a restless, unsatisfied look, though they sparkled now in anticipa- tion as he watched the fight below. It was clearly a loosing battle as far as the crusaders were concerned. Their leader had been wounded and in spite of the fact that the knights fought bravely, they were slowly driven back by the fierce-hearted Saracens. Suddenly the knight on the hill wheeled his horse and started straight for the scene of battle. For a time the Crusaders and Saracens forgot the battle and paused, speechless with awe as they viewed the strange knight swoop like a grey hawk down from the brow of the nearby hill. The set- ting sun flashed strangely red on a high-held sword! An exultant voice urged the crusaders onward! XYith a knight of grey leading them and re- newed hope in their hearts the Cru- saders swept on to victory. For a year the .stranger remained with the Crusaders, to become, though the bravest in battle and the gayest of comrades, a deepening mystery. Strange stories he told: tales of ad- venture, of strange cities and of still stranger people, but in no way could they be connected with him. No one knew from whence he came or what his real name was. Iestingly one day he had remarked that some called him the Grey Hawk. Also he had told them, with a strange light in his eyes, that he loved but one thing, the huge grey charger that followed him around like a dog. Towards the end of the year that he stayed in camp he grew' restless. lle would stand for hours with his hands on his horse's mane and look ,far across the hills, his large grey eyes full of discontent. Finally, he start- ed out. ln reply to a question con- cerning his destination he smiled, a whimsical smile and answered lightly, Just beyond the hills. Then he left them with never a backward glance and disappeared over the skyline and out of their lives as suddenly and wholly as unexpectedly as he had come. Edith Congdon, ,32 TNVILIGHT FALLS QScC011d Prisej A silvery mist slowly rises from the swamp, spreading higher and wider over the frozen marsh. The air quick- ly loses the sluggishness of the day. lClear and cutting the wind sweeps over the stiffening grasses, bending them backward and forward with its will. Away to the west, the bright flare of the setting sun, like a huge fire is dying, dying. Now, only a soft glow remains to mark the path of the Great Monarch of the day.

Page 26 text:

24 THE HANOVERIAN .-. Q Russell Josselyn was the noisiest boy in class. Paul Krausauk was bashful. William Lloyd didn't know any wise cracks Otis Magoun was tall and thin. Carleton Munro didn't tell the teachers all he knew. Julius Nawazelski ceased to tease. Tony Romanofski was short and fat. Edward Schneider didn't spend Wednesday in the library. Francis Sickoll lost that stare. Russell Smith received an A for perfect behavior. Marshall Stetson had a perfect lesson. Carleton Wyman didn't wear a green sweater. Stella Grynewicz and Jean Johnson were not found together. Josephine Milewski had a boyish bob. Phyllis Mounce didn't report at band practice. Bertha Naviskas skipped drawing class. Mary Orfofska was placed in the back seat permanently. Evelyn Sproul disturbed the peace. Helen Stasiluk lost her curling irons. Edna.Thompson didn't try to trade her rings. Mildred Winslow received all D's on her report card. Donald Freeman didn't play in the band. Preston Landers never carried elastics for-? Stuart Oldham wasn't up to some trick. Melbourne Sproul was a fat man in a circus. Wilfred Whiting was fussy. Delmar Berry wasn't one of three. Marjorie Turner had a short wind blown. Ralph Sides wasn't a teachers' pet. Frank Savini understood Miss Reynold's French. David Lynch played football. James O'Keefe arrived in class on time. Edward Griffith lost that school girl com- plexion. Robert Thrasher didn't blush. Russell Merritt didn't make faces in Math. class. Raymond Dart was a real policeman. Michael Dulczierwez didn't pal with Joe. Kenneth Dolleris was a tap dancer. Ronald Davis wasn't detained at school. Kenneth Coombs decided that he didn't like to trap. Ralph Berry received a certificate for perfect attendance. Victoria Johnson wore long and full skirts. Elaine Janson was a goody-goody girl. Mary Foster couldn't bat a ball. JUNIOR HIGH SCHOOL STATISTICS Most Popular Margaret Stewart Leslie Studley Most Athletic John Tyrie Bertha Townsend Most Humorous Harold Johnson Helen Bray Most Studious Eleanor Hatch Wendell Studley Most Good-uatured Lucy Prentiss Howland Burpee Most Refined Ruth Kawano Jack Beal Most Clever Joseph Avenski Susie Young .. Most Witty . Thomas Hayes John Rozum Most Giggly Ruth Gookin Raymond Scott Most Attractive Marion Whiting Alfred Lovell Most Serious Arthur Freeman Pearl Wood Most Mischievous Tony Lemish Mary Gemelli Most Ambitious Wilfred Whiting Delmar Berry Most Sympathetic Anna McDonald Madeline Nichols SONG HITS AT SYLVESTER HIGH Should I? -study or not. The Rackett -at basketball games. t'Turn on the Heat -on cold mornings. Bluer Than You --on exam. days. A Little Lady -Miss Reynolds. 'AA Year From Today -where, Seniors? Can't You Understand? -chorus of all the teachers. I'm Following You -Mr. Crothers. Lady Luck -do you know her? Little By Little -we learn?!? Smiling Through -1Miss Reese. My Fate Is In Your Handsn- Seniors to their teachers. Satisfied -when on the honor roll. What Wouldn't We Do For That Man How we all feel towards Mr. Wass. Why? --Burke's Conciliation, Miss Ellis? Foolin' Around -during Social Period. Pm A Stern Old Bachelor --Mr. Ingalls. Is my Name Written There? -on the tardy list. ' You Got To Run -to catch the bus. Mother Mine -Mrs. Hatch. Polly -Miss Jenkins. 14 H H H

Page 28 text:

26 THE HANOVERIAN Slowly from the east, the moon sails up into the purpling skies, ever grow- ing brighter. Like timid, frightened children, one by one the twinkling stars peep out from the distant blue of the heavens, only to scurry back behind some fluffy unsuspecting cloud. A deep unbroken stillness settles over everything. Night reigns in majestic silence. Beatrice Congdon, '32 IMIOXV TQ BE RIDICULOUS Q'I'l11 rd Przlsej The breeze was cool, the room was warm, The subject-Albegra A. There was a picture on the wall, Cf San Francisco Bay. XVhile students dreamed of period bells The teacher drilled on Hx. And I, borne on Pacific swells, ,Paced up and down cool decks. The captain asked me what I'd do Should one of the passengers sink. The teacher asked me Hx' times 2, I said. jump in, I thinkf' Stanley Riclnnond, ,31 TO VIRGIL flfozzrtlz Priscj O great Virgil, famous author, Chronicler of Ancient lVars, You give to me supreme ill feeling, And your writing is the cause. You, the Romans thought, were peer- less iXVhen they had your writings nigh. But all I do wheneier I see them Is to heave a heavy sigh. You, no doubt, toiled many hours llVriting that great book of thine. On it I spend a few minutes- You should see the 'fworksl' of mine! You would wish still more than ever As you read them line by line, That upon it you had never ,lI'ut in so much useful time. Lawrence VV. Chaffee, '30 ENGLISH CLASS VERSUS THE TYPEXVRITING CLASS CH01z0rabIf' Meniimzb Each day eleven pupils meet at 10.10 in a room that adjoins the typewrit- ing room to learn what they donlt al- ready know about English CAnd that's a lotll At the head of the class is lMr. Molloy, who is explaining the meaning of each and every line in Uohn Milton's poems. This class is without a doubt the most interesting one of the day. But there is one serious drawback. ln the next room Miss Reese puts her 'juniors through the morning finger- limbering exercise. Then Miss Reese reads the alphabet frontwards and backwards just as if they had never heard it before. And for no reason at all, except to waste paper, she puts a space between each letter. Miss Reese says f'Stop, and you think the twentieth century limited has bumped, the bumper in the South Station. just before stopping, a bell tinkles, adding to the noise and confusion. To end the period she has a race. She looks at her watch and says Ngo. Poor john gets away to a slow start and tries to keep up with his feminine