Holbrook High School - Echo Yearbook (Holbrook, MA)

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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.”

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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 13 THE FLOOD One day a few short weeks ago While I was watching the flowers grow, I chanced to think of the middle west Where now a thousand dead do rest; Of the horror, the fear of that awful flood Which killed many men without spilling blood. How it grew so quickly, And poured so thickly O’er hills, valleys and small towns, How it came rushing and pouring down O’er every city and town For miles and miles around Oh ! how the water spread While the stricken fled From the places where they earned their daily bread. T ie Red Cross Corps their mercy plied, But even then some hundreds died. Oh ! God above, thy mercy give To those who in this area live. Jessie Beers, ’ 28 . MY SISTER’S BEAU My sister’s beau is tall and thin, I think his name is Beanpole Jim. They like each other mighty well And, gee, don’t sister think he’s swell. He dresses in a light tan suit Which every one thinks is surely a beaut. One Sunday when he came to tea, He really was a sight to see. He looked just like a fashion plate. Although he was a little late, My sister met him at the door, And looked at him three times or more. We fed him on the best of food And put him in a jolly mood. Then to my Pa he said so quickly “I’d like to marry your dear Nellie.” This Pa refused and home sent Jim While Nellie’s eyes were wet and dim So this is why Miss Nellie Haid Still remains the town’s old maid. Jessie Beers, ’ 28 . Our brave “Lucky Lindy” flew over the sea In his little air ship the St. Louie, He left us one early morning in May, And we waited and watched for news all that day. U. S. saw him when he left the ground And wished him success for his great big- bound For Lindy was courageous and daring and bold And would go against anything, even hun- ger and cold. IDEAL BASEBALL Waters slid into the plate, All safe he had no doubt, And then he heard the umpire state In growling tones, “You’re out!” He quickly scrambled to his feet; A roar came from the stands, And then — Waters smiled so sweet The umpire shook his hands. Then Hiltz walked into the box, And scanned the batters o’er. Then with his mighty arm he knocked I he batters out once more. Lucky Lindy” had the ocean well in his grip For he took not a soul with him on his trip He flew all night and the next day, too. And only he knew how fast he flew. When at last he finished his flight, He found Paris ablaze with light. The people were shouting and crying with At the great success of our big boy. 0 . ur Lindy has made a big sensation He has put a friendship betwee n two big nations. Something U. S. will put at the top, Our boy was the first to make the big hop. Pauline Blanchard, ’ 30 . Then Callahan strode up to the pan The pitcher hurled the ball, Callahan swung the mighty man, And socked it over the wall. And as he circled ’round the path, All knew the game was won. The pitcher laughed a hearty laugh As he knew it was a home run. Christina Callahan, ’ 30 . If you want to go to the kind of school Like the kind of school you like, You needn t slip your books in a grip And start on a long, long hike. You’ll only find what you’ve left behind, h or there s nothing that’s really new. Its a knock at yourself when you knock your school — It isn’t the school; it’s you. Maybelle Sears, ’ 28 .