Holbrook High School - Echo Yearbook (Holbrook, MA)

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THE ECHO 13 RIDICULOUS RHYMES OF SOME SOPHOMORE Near sighted Andrew, Oh didn’t he start When he found a big wasp in his raspberry tart. Aimable Anne always grins Even when Lillian is sticking in pins. Industrious Dot Shipley, the top of the school, Just look with what pleasure she learns a new rule. Beautiful Eleanor I’m sorry to say Stares in the looking glass ’most all the day. Sunshiny Flossie she smiles all day long And meets every trouble with jest and with song. Terrible Hayden, with sword and with gun, He looks just as fierce as a regular Hun. Elegant Helen is much too fine To fasten a worm on the end of her line. Jovial Marion J. will never complain, If they pull out a tooth, she says, “Do it again.” Good natured Virginia, she gives all her chums Her sweets and her cake, and keeps only the crumbs. Victorious Wiggins is always so wise, At the end of the term he will win every prize. Kind hearted Rita, so gentle is she, The flies on the paper she loves to set free. Frolicsome Parker thinks it a joke To give all the wasps in their nest a poke. Dorothy Mills, ’31. The second assembly of the Sophomore class was a huge success. The first num- ber was a salute to the flag led by Bruce Grindle, the sophomore class president. The orchestra gave several selections. Mr. Belcher of Randolph then gave a speech on the topic of habits. After Mr. Belcher’s speech, the boys of the sophomore class presented the play, Julius Caesar, a bur- lesque representation. The characters were as follows: Caesar. Bruce Grindle; An- thony, Harry Wiggins; Brutus, Malcolm Andrews; Casca, E. Hayden; Lucius, Ev- erett Hayden; and Trebonius, Carl Rosen- quist. After the play the orchestra gave several more selections. SENIORS Senior girls are pretty and gay, Laughing and talking all the day. Senior boys are big and tall, Studying and planning, Algebra and all. What if the girls giggle and laugh, Powder, and study their lessons by half? What if the boys the teachers tease, Skip “P. M.” and do as they please? They’re our very own Senior Class Every one, each lad and lass. They work hard for ambitions high. These may change, but they never die. This year now they enter the world. Flinging out wide their banners now furled. Years and years may by us pass, Ever they’ll be “OUR SENIOR CLASS.” E. Hill, ’29. ECHOES Everybody cheered As from the battlefield of France Came the ECHO Of the new signed peace. A lone rider calls And from the blue ridged mountain peaks Comes the ECHO Of that far away call. Sumner High School calls And from their staff twice a year Comes the “ECHO”— Of bright knowledge and cheer. “Echo dough” the collectors call And from students pockets twice a year, Comes the ECHO Of bright money that’s dear. Stanley White, ’30. WINTER CLOUDS Oh, clouds that blow across the wintry sky, Why scurry you so madly to and fro? I’m sure I don’t know whither do you go So tell me, cloudlets, as you pass me by. For I, mere human being- that I am, Would like to know the travels that you take, And why you wildly blow by in the wake Of some quick gust that’s gone as soon’s it came. And, queer little clouds, though often not so small But that you soak the earth in drenching rains, I needs must know just how you came at all. But — oh, your’re gone, and so, for all my pains, My pride does trip and take a headlong fall. For I don’t know now why clouds should wax and wane. M. Regan, ’31. Dorothy Brown, ’30.

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12 THE ECHO WHO’S WHO IN THE JUNIOR CLASS OUR KIDS’ PARTY President: Carleton Waters Vice-President: Dorothy Brown Secretary: Dorothea LoefFler Class Editor: Myron Holbrook Treasurer: Wallace Dana Junior shiek: Henry Kemp The tallest: Henry Drummond The shortest: Evelyn Salter Junior hero: Clifton Baker Most dignified: Penelope Hutchinson Most poetic: J. Allen McKinlay Best natured: Edith Johnson Cutest: Marjorie Still Most studious: Wallace Hancock, Jr. Class beauty: Marion Wilbur Most dramatic: William Stodder Most humorous: Evelyn Sullivan Jolliest: Ardelle Wilde Most generous: Thorndike Flye Most mischievous: Anna McCarthy Most polite: Dean Willis Most playful: Ora Randall Most intelligent: Alphonse Cartollo Verna Thomas, ’30. Left to right: L. Hutchins, E. Rosenquist, M. Kierstead, E. Hill. On Friday, March the first, The kids from far and near All dressed in blue and pink With toys all gathered here. The race of Kiddie Cars Pleased each and every kid. ’Twas won by our own “Bud”, Though “Flukie” didn’t skid. Balloons of red and green Caused all the kids to hush, But when they falling came Oh my! ’Twas such a rush. But now it’s all gone by, Our clothes are laid away. But, Gee! It’s fun to be A kid for just a day. Alma Cummings, ’29. The members of the French Club, as part of its activities, attended the drama pre- sented by the French Club of the Brockton High School. All courtesies were extended the visitors, and they had a most enjoyable time. The Play especially earned their very favorable praise. It portrayed the troubles of one who does not understand the language. The Annual Drama of the French Club, entitled, “UNE CONSULTATION”, was presented on Wednesday, April 24, 1929, at 3 o’clock in the Assembly Hall of Sumner High School, under the direction of Miss Marcia Bartlett, teacher of foreign lang- uages. The characters were very well taken by the following members of the club: Fifine, the French maid, Miss Evelyn Rosenquist; Madame Barbachon, Miss Evelyn Hill; and the Professeur, Miss Louise Hutchins; In- terpreter, Miss Martha Kierstead. An overture by the High School Orches- tra was much enjoyed. After the drama, home made candy was sold. Dancing was enjoyed for a short time. Music was furnished by the school orches- tra. The proceeds are to aid in the purchase of a motion picture machine for the school. HEARD IN FRENCH TRANSLATION Pupil — The bullet went in his chest and out his back. Teacher — But wouldn’t it go thru his heart ? Pupil — Oh, his heart was in his mouth. Ex.

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14 THE ECHO ITEMV THE LONESOME ROAD It was the day before Christmas in the year 1920, yet there was little winter in the thin air of Wayne in the Blue Grass region of Kentucky. Far, far away the distant hills showed faint patches of snow; but the rich, rolling lands were red-brown and glistened with frost specks in the morning sun. In the small courtroom a tenseness filled the air in strange contrast to the peace and color outside. Slowly the judge rose from his chair and facing the prisoner, a tall grave young: man who stood with one hand in the bosom of his shirt, clearly pro- nounced the sentence, ‘‘Prisoner at the bar, the jury finds you guilty of train robbery, and I pronounce the sentence as ten years of labor.” A quiver passing over the face of the young man, and the tightly clenched firsts were the only visible signs of the blow which had fallen upon him. Picture after picture flashed before him in that brief time as he stood there awaiting sentence; the long hunt for his wayward brother, the train journey south, the hold-up, his recog- nition of the brother as one of the masked robbers, the wrested mask and revolver in his hand as he covered his brother’s flight upon the rush of the deputy’s posse, his ar- rest, trial, and now ten years along the lonesome road alone. Many years after, the doors swung open for the prisoner, Tom Carr, and he passed into the world again, free. Yet it was p ' ood to live, to feel the soft breeze, to hear the birds about him on every side, to see the soft sunlight, and to know best of all that he was free to all of these just as any- one else. He knew he was not guilty, and nerhans sometime the hands of Providence would point out a way to clear himself in the eyes of these people. He would fight it down and stay here among them until he f ' ould prove to them that he was not the “outlaw they judged him.” The bright glare of the morning’s sun shone upon his uncovered head as he stood deep in thought, rapidly reviewing all that had passed since that morning ten years ago, until the present time. He summed up the good and the bad, and asked himself if life were worth the living, and as he felt the warm air, and as the sweet moist grass brought upon him a feeling of quiet and freedom, his thoughts asserted themselves, “Yes, it was good to live.” For a long time he stood very still, drink- ing in the clean fresh air, until a soft, whining sound caused him to glance down- ward to the road at his feet. There lay a ragged, little, yellow dog, nose between his paws and whose honest brown eyes held themselves to the eyes of the man. A tat- tered little beggar, whose one time coat of long, silky brown hair was now matted with burrs and pieces of briar. For a few seconds the eyes of the man and dog seemed to be searching one another; then, ps Tom bent and patted the shapely head, the animal leaped upon him with little short barks of delight. The long road ahead beckoned and called to the man as it gleamed white in the morning’s sun and lost itself far away in the low hills, and unconsciously he started on, the little dog every now and then rubbing softly against his legs. Mile after mile they trudged, the little dog al- ways at heel, although many times his pager brown eyes had wandered, and his b’ttle legs had ached for a good run among the tall grasses. The sudden whirring of wine’s over his head made him give voice to his feelings in a short, sharp bark and Tom. his senses rushing to earth again, realized his companionship. Letting him- self down upon the grass beside a clear running stream of cold water, he gathered the patient little animal to him and re- moved the burrs and briars from the rough coat, saying all the time, “And so you want to go with me. Are you all alone? Don’t anybody want you? Won’t anyone fped you?” No! as a bark answered him. “Well then, I do. Let us be pals, chums. You stick by me, and I’ll stick by you. No one else to do it. H’mm, chums, Chummy. Well, you’ve got to have some sort of a name so let it be “Chummy”, and here- after I belong to you, and you to me.” A frenzied racing around in circles, back and forth, a riot of barks and finally “Chum-