Holbrook High School - Echo Yearbook (Holbrook, MA)

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8 THE ECHO ATTEMPTED SUICIDE F lorence MARSTON was reclining on a sumptuous divan in the beautiful draw- ing room of her mansion. Dressed in loung- ing pajamas, she was looking at the latest books on advanced French dresses. A sud- den thought sprang into her piquant, little brunette head. Jumping to the floor, she thrust her tiny feet into a pair of pink satin slippers, and hurried to the desk in the corner of the perfectly square room. She pushed a button, flooding the room with light. After rummaging in a desk, she drew out of a bundle of letters a large bank envelope and hurriedly drew out a state- ment. “Nine million dollars is all that I own,” she cried in sheer delight. Florence called to her maid, “Jeanette, has my lawyer called here today?” “No, Madam, but the treasurer of the Fifth National Bank called and said that he wished to see you to-morrow morning at eight o’clock, at the bank.” “All right! By the way, tell James to get me the Fnancial Review immediately.” Florence walked slowly to the couch where she had been lying, and she was standing near it when James entered with the newspaper. Taking the paper, she asked for a glass of gingerale and some cookies. Glancing at the headlines, she became pet- rified with fear. “Fifth National Bank on Verge of Failure. Four day Run on the Bank Has Exhausted All But One S ' ingle- Deposit of Nine Million Dollars.” She gasped for breath. “All my money will be lost.” Reading a little further, she noticed that all other banks of the city had refused to help stop the run. “They are trying their best to ruin me.” She gasped. “They shall not succeed.” The following morning at eight o’clock saw Florence at the main entrance to the bank. The door was immediately opened by an attendant, and she was ushered into the presence of the board of directors. “How do you do? Miss Marston! I can not say good morning because it is not to be for you. This bank closed its doors last night for the last time. As President of the board of directors I announce to you that there is less than five thousand dollars in the vault, and there are no assets. Hold ! I know what you are going to say. The newspapers had a wrong story. Do you suppose any bank could stand a four-day run, and not close its doors? There has been a slow but steady run on this bank for four days. As I said, there is five thousand dollars, but that is needed to pay taxes, electric power bills, and employees wages that must be paid. I extend to you my most sincere sympathy and regret. “Then, as it stands, I lose a cool nine million dollars.” “Yes, Miss Marston, a very large amount of money. But you are a young girl and can start over, while I am an old man. Fortun- ately for me, my wife has some money in- vested in her own name; on this we can live in a very modest way.” “If that is all, I will leave you. Thank you very much for not notifying me of the run until the bank had failed. A nice set of financial advisers you turned out to be! Good day!” Florenc e left the bank and drove to a very well equipped pharmacy and, after a short visit, she drove to her summer home at Hyannisport. Having fixed a hot meal for her, the caretaker, John, left the room to prepare a place for her to sleep that ‘ night. What a night it was to be! About six oclock John entered the main part of the house from the ell, and he soon became aware of the presence of visitors. Walking down the cor- ridor to the room he had prepared tor Florence, he heard and recognized the voice of a Hyannis physician. “And now, if you move her very carefully upon the couch, face down, we can try to eject the malicious poison from her stomach, ’ was what John heard. John opened the door to look on the strangest sight he had seen in many years. Death-white, Florence was being laid on the couch by a tall well proportioned blond man. “Why! Why! What’s the matter? Doctor, What’s happened? Is she dead?” “No, she is not dead, but she has had a very close call. I believe you are the care- taker. Telephone my secretary to send two registered nurses here immediately. Also, heat some water and bring it to me. After you have telephoned my office, you may bring me some mustard, milk, and three or four fresh eggs. Quick now! A life depends on your speed.” John quickly telephoned to the doctor’s office, and then he brought the specified articles to the doctor. The mustard and eggs were used as emetics to be doubly sure that all the poison was out of Florence’s stomach. When the water was hot, John brought it to the living room, and, accord- ing to orders, he bathed the sick girl’s arms and feet. The nurses stayed with Miss Marston four days, and then John and a farmer housekeeper did the housework and nursing. All during Florences’s illness the tall, blond man came regularly to pay her his respects. At the end of six months Florence an- nounced that the man, who had watched her take the poison, and then called the doctor, was to be her future husband. Harry J. Wiggins. Miss Maguire: An anonymous person is one who does not wish to be known. Who’s that laughing in this class? Voice from the rear: An anonymous per- son, Miss Maguire.

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THE ECHO 7 drew their revolvers and saw that they were well loaded. “Ready, boys?’ ' whispered the sergeant. “O. K., chief,” the two replied. Then the three rushed the door and flung it open. As they had their guns drawn, the advantage was theirs. Red and Bill started to draw their guns, but Millie stopped them saying, “It’s no use, boys. We don’t want a cop’s blood on our hands.” The other two officers came running up, and the three crooks were handcuffed; ths bag of diamonds was secured from the table; and the group marched back to the . ears. The three thieves were put into the police car with four of the officers, and the remaining officer was left to bring the sedan. The jewels were returned to their right- ful owners, and the next morning the news- papers told the public of the daring hold- up, and rang with praise of the brilliant capture of the trio of thieves by the fear- less, persistent police sergeant. Marieta Regan, ’31. REFLECTIONS OF A JUNIOR T WO of the Juniors are outdoing them- selves a little. They are passing us left and right in their new cars. Adrienne’s got a Ford, and Felix has an Essex, but Fm willing to bet that the Essex has little chance of catching the speedy little Ford roadster. The high school orchestra seems to have suffered a relapse. It is still going, but Sumner’s professionalists have dropped out. There appears to be a fairly large one, though. Quite an army of recruits must have arrived on the scene with the advent of the freshman class. All our movie operators moved out with the 1930 graduating class, so Mr. Neal ap- plied to the Physics class for help. Nearly everyone in the class applied. At present, we have six steady operators divided into two groups, two boys and a girl to a group, who alternate in showing the pictures. The courageous girls are Rita Hutchins and Helen Morse. Two or three other girls are learning the art. You can’t keep the girls down now-a-days. Dear old Sumner is a dangerous place to be around, while our head scientist, Fred Kierstead, is anywhere near the laboratory. He unwillingly attempted to blow up the school. He simply dropped a few pieces of sodium metal into a jar of water. The water boiled and fumes spread around, but Miss Knutson, the heroine, took the sodium metal out of the water with a pair of long handled pincers. She sent for some kerosene and put the sodium metal into it. So you can thank her or curse her for saving Sumner from having a shock, which might have resulted in fallen arches and various other things. As soon as the danger was over, Miss Knutson brought a big chart into the lab with the title “Fire Preven- tion”. One of the rules said not to put so- dium metal into water, but in kerosene. It’s funny what strange things will hap- pen. Boys and girls and men have played basket-ball for many years, yet I don’t be- lieve that in the history of Sumner did any- one get a broken nose. Of course, it’s a small wonder that Ruth got hit, but under ordinary circumstances, it is unaccountable, that it should break her nose. That must be her weakness. Oh yes, I don’t believe that anybody will ever forget the little incident, which oc- curred in Stoughton when we were playing basketball there this winter. One of the Stoughton boys must have seen something- in Mike’s pocket. At any rate, that’s what he grabbed, tearing a nice long piece out of poor Mike’s pants, and to crown the situa- tion, Mike had to walk the whole length of the floor, in order to find a seat. Mike can tell you when to be nonchalant! A disaster occurred in the Junior class last winter, when their vice-president left them flat and went to Rhode Island. The cavity has been filled in the person of “Peanut” Ahern. I see that the Juniors have their class rings. They look pretty good to me. The Juniors tell me that they paid five dol- lars for them. The other classes paid more, but we’re having rather hard times now, so the Juniors can’t expect to have the best. It looks like a good ring, just the same. It’s quite noticeable that we have a num- ber of new dancers, this year. I couldn’t help noticing this last winter, when the Senior Class had its annual play followed by a dance. Not as many Seniors were on the floor, in comparison, as there were Ju- niors, Sophs, or Freshmen. You can blame the arrival of the new dancers to Miss Ge- gan, who held a class in the El Es Ce Hall this past winter. Believe it or not, Ernest Wiggins found a girl’s address on the inside of a candy wrapper, asking for him to write to her, as she was lonsesome. Ernest is rather bash- ful, but he declares that he’s going to write. One of the Junior boys has established the record for the greatest number of days tardy and absent. He’s a professional at forgetting his notes from his mother (?). Miss Knutson offered him transportation, if he would be ready at half past seven, when she came along to school. Johnny, however, prefers to walk, seeming to get a great thrill out of getting into class about five minutes after the bell rings. M. Andrews: How do you like my new hat? Feeney: I wouldn’t be seen in it. Andrews: Don’t worry. They have small- er sizes. ♦ ♦ ♦ Employer: Are you speedy on the type- writer? A. Johnston: I’m so sjieedy I work on a water-cooled typewriter with an asbestos tape.

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THE ECHO 9 BILL’S EXPLOITS B ill HARRISON, who was spending the summer at Popham on the bank of the Kennebec River, left his cottage with the intention of exploring and possibly making some interesting discoveries in his small motor boat. You could hear the cling-cling of his engine until long after he had dis- appeared from sight. When some distance up stream, he heard shots from a near by island and quickly turned toward it, determined to find out what this meant. On nearing the shore, he saw a boy who was racing along at great speed followed closely by a man with a rifle which he repeatly aimed at the boy and fired, although missing him each time. Bill jumped ashore thinking only of res- cuing the young chap from the hands of his enemy, but he had no sooner started towards him than he himself was tackled by a number of men. He was immediately bound, and thrown into a hut with no pos- sible chance to escape. Later he Avas brought before what seemed to be the chief of the gang, who asked him what his busi- ness was in this particular territory. Bill replied that he was just hunting. They took him and tied him hand and foot and locked him in the next room. The men then started a discussion as to what they should do with him. Some of them wanted to let him go, but others said he would give away their hiding place, sp they decided to keep him until they had carried out their plans of robbing the bank. Bill was kept there for two days, not seeing anyone except when he was fed, and then he was closely guarded ; during this time, however, he was making his plans of escape. All the next day the robbers continued to make plans for the robbery which was to take place the coming night. As night cam° on. Bill began to carry out his plans of es- cape. During the day he called for a glass of water, and purposely dropped the glass, which broke when it hit the floor. His cap- tive kicked it angrily into the corner. Before leaving, the robbers made sure that Bill was securely bound so there could be no possible chance of escaping; then they departed for the city. As soon as Bill thought they had got away from the island he rolled over to the comer where the brok- en glass was. After feeling around the best he could, he found the glass and proceeded to cut his bonds. He would cut a little, then the glass would slip, and inflict a cut on his arms. After receiving a number of cuts, he finally freed himself. Quickly he untied his feet, and without stopping to think about the wounds he had received, he made his way hastily towards the door. Finding it locked, he threw his weight against it. The door failed to give way under his weight so he took a heavy bar which he found among some rubbish in one corner of the room, and with a number of quick blows smashed the lock. Bill now rushed out and down to the shore, where much to his dismay, his motor boat was gone. He quickly dived into the stream and swam to the opposite shore. When he reached the shore he started off on the run through the woods to the road. After a half mile run through the un- traveled paths. Bill was quite exhausted when he reached the road, but when he thought of the robbers and the bank, it seemed to give him new courage, and he raced on down the road. Soon the lights of the city loomed up before him, and he never once faltered until he reached his destination. Rushing into the Police Sta- tion and yelling, “The Bank! Robbers”! he fell to the floor, unconscious from exposure and exhaustion. When he regained consciousness, he was in his own home. The president of the bank came and told him that the robbers had been captured, and gave him a reward of one hundred dollars. Later the state authorities gave him a reward of five hundred dollars for making possible the capture of a notorious band of robbers long wanted by states and counties. Kenneth Stanley, ’33. JANE’S DREAM J ANE sat in the large Morris chair be- fore the crackling fire place. A lamp on the table threw its rose rays on Jane’s English book that she had in her lap. She sighed and began again. “A spar row chirped a thirst- ty song. Now what rhymes with song? Poems ain’t so easy to make up as I thought.” Jane became sleepy, and the next thing she knew, a little man popped up and said, “I am Mr. Line of a single foot. My chil- dren call me Monometer. My wife has two feet; she’s Dimeter. Brother has three feet; Trimeter we call him. My sister has four feet, and we call her Tretrameter. My aunt has five feet, and her name is Penta- meter. Mother has six feet, and Dad has seven feet; we call them Hexameter and Heptameter. Now poor grandmother, we call her ‘Blank verse.’ She has rhythm too.” Jane awoke with a start. “What an ab- surd dream I’ve had. I had better get to work, or I’ll get a P. M. session. “Now, let me see, every two lines can rhyme, and then I can have one that doesn’t, and then two more that do. Or I can have every other sentence rhyme. — Oh, what awful stuff poetry is!” Frances Ahern, ’32. E. Mann: I’ve fired my chauffeur. He nearly killed me four times. 11. Wiggins: Oh, give him another chance. ♦ ♦ ♦ R. Whitcomb: It was kind of you to give me this dance. C. Jervey: Well, this is a charity ball.