Holbrook High School - Echo Yearbook (Holbrook, MA)

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THE ECHO 11 WHEN A WOMAN’S “YES” MEANS “NO” The stage represents the living room of the Mather home. A large Colonial fire- place is at the left, within which stand huge brass andirons. On the mantle are brass candlesticks, and hanging directly above is an old-fashioned portrait of a handsome lad. Scattered about the room are many easy chairs; in the center back towers an old grandfather’s clock. To the left of the clock is the window, crossbarred and draped with chintz. As the curtain rises, Mrs. Mather is standing at the window, angrily facing a young man who has just sunk into one of the easy chairs. Mrs. Mather also wears a rather puzzled look as she does not know who this man is that the maid, Tessie, haci a few minutes previously admitted into her house. Young Man: This is Mrs. Mather? I am Charles Manning, a salesman from the Dakota Publishing Company. Mrs. Mather (haughtily) : I am Mrs. Mather, but I do not care for anything today. I believe you failed to tell Tessie your business or she would not have ad- mitted you. Mr. Manning (protesting) : No indeed, Mrs. Mather, it is not necessary for you to buy anything today. I am sure you will be interested to see our display of new books. It is the best yet. Mrs. Mather (determinedly) : You are only wasting your time and mine. I never buy books from peddlers. My husband is in the book business and gets all his read- ing material at half-price. Salesman (eagerly) : Oh, I am sure he can’t get any books like these. Mrs. Mather: I’m sure he can. He al- ways tells me never to bother to buy books, but just give him the names and he wil 1 get them himself. Salesman (quickly) : But you see, mad- am, these are a special value. Nowhere have you seen anything like it. (proceeds to open up his satchel and bring forth his wared) Here ig a beautifully bound book of our latest novel, “The Broken Heart”, by Ed- gar Rice. It is well illustrated. Here is a mystery story that possibly your husband would enjoy. He will not stop reading until he reaches the final page, I assure you, for it is very thrilling. It is “The Tenth” by Simpson. Mrs. Mather (shaking her head) : I do not read much and my husband despises mys- tery stories. There is nothing I want today. Book-agent (still persisting) : Well, here is a Bible, strongly bound and filled with wonderful, colored pictures. This is a necessity in every home. You should not — Mrs. Mather (interrupting) : We have several Bibles that are just as well bound. You can not show me anything I would care for. Book-agent: I am sure you haven’t one of these Companion Cook Books. It is filled with wonderful recipes and they are all very inexpensive to use. They are sell- ing this week for two dollars and a half. I know you will be proud to own one of these. Mrs. Mather (frostily) : I use only Fanny Farmer’s Cook Book and am well satisfied with that. Mr. Manning (in despair) : Have you any children or maybe a nephew or niece who would, I am sure, be overjoyed to have a set of these Bunny Books or perhaps one of our special size painting outfits? Mrs. Mather (blushing) : I have no chil- dren and my niece has just celebrated her birthday and I have already given her a gift. (Just at this moment Betty, her daughter, came rushing into the room. Betty, (excitedly) : Oh mother, mother Janey’s going to have a party and I’m in- vited. See here it is (displaying the tiny pink invitation) (Mrs. Mather, looking mortified to death, gazed around the room as if seeking a place to flee.) Book-agent (quickly seizing this mom- ent to conquer his victory) : This is just what your little girl wants, Mrs. Mather. You must buy now as you may never again get such a good offer . They are only three dollars a set. Surely you think they’re worth it? Mrs. Mather (leaning forward to get one of the books) : Well, I suppose I might look at them again. Salesman (brightening up as one with new hopes, rises in order to show Mrs. Mather the books good qualities) : See, here are the colored pictures that are a great help in explaining the story better to the little readers. Also note the good size print that the little ones may not strain their eyes. Would you like a set? Mrs. Mather (nodding) : Yes, I guess I’ll take one — Book-agent (rushing on now that he has won the first point) : And one of these cook-books. I know you’ll always be de- lighted with it. Mrs. Mather (weakly, seeing no other way to get rid of this agonizing salesman) : Well, I never use anything but Fanny Farmer’s, but I’ll take one of yours. (Mrs. Mather leaves the room to get her pocket book; Betty follows her. Mr. Manning (smiling and talking to him- self) : A perfect victory and well fought, too. Bless her daughter for coming in just when I had about given up. Well, let me see who is next (drawing a slip of paper

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THE ECHO 10 JUDGE NOT A Drama in One Act CHARACTERS Mr. John Roberts, a wealthy business man. Mrs . John Roberts, a plump, motherly woman. Miss Betty Roberts, a wilful young girl, aged 18. Mr. Roger Roberts, an adopted son, ag,ed 24. Place: Boston, Mass. Time: August 28, 1927. SCENE (The living room of the Roberts’. It is a spacious room furnished in a comforta- ble, modern way with large open windows, through which nod fragrant flowers. Mr. Roberts is standing in the center of the room holding a check in his hand. Mrs. Roberts is sitting near the window, mending. ) Mr. Roberts: (pacing up and down the room) Don’t try to argue with me, Norma. Who else could have taken my name and forged it for twenty-five thousand dollars? Not one of my friends could have done so dishonorable an act. Why — Mrs. Roberts: John, stop! How can you condemn that boy like that? You have known him almost all his life and still you can call him a thief! Why, you might just as well accuse Betty of stealing it. Mr. Roberts: (placidly) There, there, Norma. Of course, you might be right and I may be mistaken but I ask you who else could have taken it? We know he had a motive. We know he wanted a motor boat. And when I told him 1 Wouldn’t give him the money for it because I didn’t believe in such foolish things for a boy who has his way to make in the world, he said he would give up the idea. But he probably was planning even then to take it. Mrs. Roberts: (heatedly) John Roberts ' I’m ashamed of you. The least you could do is to give the boy the benefit of the doubt. You even condemn him unheard. I suggest that you call him and let him defend himself. Mr. Roberts: “You’re right, Norma. I will do so. (he rings a bell and a servant appears.) Tell Roger to step into the liv- ing room. (The servant goes out.) Mrs. Roberts: I am sure he can clear him- self. Roger: Did you want me, father? Mr. Roberts: Yes. But I have no doubt you know the meaning of it. Stop, please do not interrupt until I am finished. Roger, will you please tell me why you forged my name to a check for twenty-five thousand? Roger: (passionately) Father! Surely you do not think that I did it? You have always been so good to me. Why, I — I couldn’t do anything like that to you! Mr. Roberts: (sadly) I would like to be- lieve you, Roger, but I am afraid I can’t. I will not hand you over to the authorities but I must request you to leave my house. You will please leave — at once. (Roger leaves the room to pack, and Mrs. Roberts is sobbing in the chair when Betty enters. ) Betty: (breezily) Well, for the love of Lula! Why, the sob scene? Mr. Roberts: (sternly) Betty! You will please speak in a more respectful manner to your mother. As to the meaning of the “sob scene,’’ Roger is leaving us. Betty: Leaving us! Why? Mr. Roberts: Why — er — you see, he — he — well, in plain English he forged a check in my name for twenty-five thousand. Of course, after that I could not keep him so I — Why, Betty! What’s the matter? Betty: (laughing hysterically) Roger! Forge a check? Oh! That’s rich! Well, before I’ll see him turned out because of something he didn’t do, I’ll confess. Your charming daughter forged that check! Mr. Roberts: (harshly) Betty, this is no time for dramatics. Of course, you didn’t forge that check. Why should you? Haven’t you all the money you need? Betty: Yes, but have you forgotten that a few months back Jimmy Clainborne asked if he could marry me? You laughed and told him he needed more money first. Well, I decided to take that measly twenty-five; you wouldn’t miss it and I needed it. Jim- my and I were to elope this afternoon. Now, of course, its all off. But I just wanted to prove that Roger didn’t take it. Mrs. Roberts: Betty, come with me. (Together they leave the room. Mr. Rob- erts sinks into a chair and covers his face. Roger enters) Roger: I’ve come to say good-by. Why, Dad, what’s the matter? Mr. Roberts: Roger, will you ever for- give me for doubting your word? I — I have just found the real culprit and now I ask you to stay for Norma’s sake. Roger: Of course, I will. Reta Walls, ’28. FRIENDS Make new friends, but keep the old. These are silver, those are gold. Cherished friendship in your breast, New is good, but old is best. Make new friends, but keep the old. These are silver, those are gold. Irene McCarty, ’30.

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12 THE ECHO from his pocket) : Hm, Mrs. Hanson, Well, I hope she is easier than this one. (Enter Mrs. Mather with exact change, so she need not keep the agent any longer than necessary. Silently she hands it to him) . Agent (bowing his way out of the room) : I know you will be well satisfied. Let us know if you need any other books. Also you might- write us and tell us how you are enjoying your cook-book. Good day. (Mrs. Mather wearily sinks into the nearest chair after this trying ordeal : I wonder what my husband will say. Helen Gray, ’28. WHEN THE ENGINE STALLED One night as I sat on the edge of my bed, I began to think how wonderful it would be to be a boy. Boys could be tough and rough, but girls have to behave just so. All of a sudden I saw a light in the corner of my room. I opened my mouth to scream but no utterance came from my lips. The next thing I saw was a lady dressed in diamonds. She was the fairy of the spirits. At last my dream was fulfilled; she changed me into a boy. One wave of her magic wand and there I stood all dressed in boy’s shoes, stockings, trousers, shirt, and aviator’s cap. In return for this I had to take a human companion and go to the moon, bringing back with me some of the diamond crystals for her gown. I grabbed my fur coat, rushed out of the house, looked up and down the street, grabbed the first boy I met, and hurried into my back yard. There, floating on the empty air was an airplane, the shape of a crescent. I got in, pulled the somewhat astounded and astonished boy after me, and we were gone. After traveling for about thirty days, and I think seventy nights, we reached the planet known as the moon. I do not recol- lect what we ate on the way or how we managed the machine. I think it traveled by the spirits of the fairies and we lived on the empty air. The climate was very hot and I felt like a frying potato in the frying pan. My companion was too burned to speak and I couldn’t for lack of a tongue. The moon was inhabited by funny creatures that had about seventy legs and fifty eyes. There were a great many mountains made of sugar, and seas made of ink. I perceived a closed door and decided to investigate what was in back of it. Al- though this door was made of glass, my eyes could not see through it. We found we could pass through it; so we did. We went to the airplane, started the engine and then picked the crystals from the glass trees. Next we started home. But alas! What did we see — a great black pit beneath us. The engine stalled. Slowly, slowly we began to roll and coast toward the pit. Faster we went as we gathered speed. Thump, bump, bumpity, bump. I stared about me. Where on earth was I? I was recalled to my senses in a few minutes by my mother’s voice, calling, “Well, Hazel Tibbetts, what on earth are you doing? The idea of a girl as old as you falling out of bed!” Slowly and thoughtfully I crawled back to bed, saying, “That’s what happened when the engine stalled.” Hazel Tibbetts. THE SCHOOL MOUSE In a corner room of Sumner High Is heard a scratching near by The pupils are quiet, the way is clear, And bye and bye a mouse doth appear. It raids the basket by the door, It rattles papers on the floor; Till one of the Juniors, not afraid, Thinks he will end this serenade. He’s out of his seat in a gingerly way, Clutches the basket as mousie’s at play, And now with a bounce it’s into its house, But that’s not the end of the poor little mouse. It comes out each day, and has no fear Of the many people who are so near; Though with chocoate, its tempted, this mouse replies, “If kill is your motive, take someone your size. “I like in this room and here I’ll remain, You folks can move out if I drive you insane ; If one of your number should manage to kill, There are plenty of others who my place will fill”. Constance Brown, ’28. Father: “You look pale, son, what’s bothering you?” Gordon: “Rheumatism. We had it in spelling to-day and I spelled it wrong.”