Holbrook High School - Echo Yearbook (Holbrook, MA)

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THE ECHO 13 you will find a check. I have earned it and I am a success. Mary Reynaud. Helen Kelley. A LITTLE HEROINE F OR some months before the battle at Con- cord, the people in this section were m a state of great excitement. Groups of grave- faced men talked secretly on street corners, and there was a rumor around that the British, who then occupied Boston, were on their way to destroy the ammunition that was stored at Concord. Great precaution was taken against the enemy by storing valuable war arms in nearly every house. This precaution was necessary for there were Tories ever ready to give the enemy any information that was needed. Many secret messages were carried from house to house and it was just such a mess- age that was carried beneath the eggs in the basket on Nancy Tarbell’s arm. Her uncle kept an important communication with Squire Torrey at the other end of the town, and as Nancy was a brave little girl, she was entrusted with it. She had only gone a short way when she met two strangers who asked for the resi- dence of Farmer Williams. Her heart gave a big thump at this, for the farmer was a well known Tory. But she tried not to show any surprise and gave them the desired in- formation. Nancy knew by their accent in her short conversation with them that they were British soldiers. She hurried and when she reached the squire’s home, told him what she had encountered on the way. How to find out the strangers’ errand was an important question. But Mrs. Torrey soon solved it by saying she would send Nancy over to Mrs. Williams with some eggs, and once there, she could keep her eyes and ears open and learn everything possible. When Nancy reached the house, she found preparations for a feast going on. She de- livered the eggs and was thanked for them, but when she offered to help them as they were busy, she was gently but firmly pushed out of the kitchen. As Nancy was a determined girl, she could not be put off so easily; so as she passed the front of the house, she looked in and saw a table set for four persons. Instantly an idea popped into her head, and she climbed through the open window and hid under the table. As the table cloth reached to the floor, she was completely hidden and alone, except for the cat, who snuggled down on her dress to sleep. Nancy had been there a short time when Williams and his wife entered with their guest. By their voices the girl recognized the guests to be the men she had met on the road. For a little while they talked and ate, but when Mrs. Williams left the room, they be- gan to talk business. Nancy learned that the men were British officers who had come to find out where the supplies were kept and how they were pro- tected. The farmer gave them all the in- formation in his power but told them that his life was in danger because of his loyalty. The officers urged him to go with them, promising to protect him as they were armed, and no one knew of their presence except a stupid little girl. At this Nancy almost laughed out, and as she leaned forward to catch every word, one of the officers raised his foot to emphasize a remark and came down heavily on Nancy s nand causing her much pain. Another time she was nearly discovered as the men were ready to leave when she gave a little sneeze. “There’s someone under the table,” cried one of the officers. But then the cat walked proudly out from under the table, and the company laughed at what they thought their mistake. The men soon left the house, and Nancy creeping from her hiding place as soon as it was safe to do so, ran as fast as her legs could carry her. But before she could reach Squire Torrey ’s house, the spies and the Tory were well on their way as Williams had horses ready for their flight. But the warning of the British was given, and Nancy received great praise for her hour under the table. Frances Sorocco, ’34. A DIFFICULT TASK An optimist is any class editor of the Sumner High School of Holbrook, who has set out to get stories for his school paper, the “Echo”. Stories, essays, poems, jokes, and editorials are being sought. If none are turned in, the student is in danger of having his story selected from an English assign- ment. Stories about thefts, murders, and liquor are not the type wanted; colorful and interesting stories are what students de- mand. These stories may have a little slang but too much slang is disgusting to both the pupil and teachers. Poems can be of as much interest as stories. Many humorous poems can be found in the poets’ corner. Or, if you are the sentimental type, you too can be satisfied. Lyrics about different students cause many a hearty laugh. Editorials and essays are considered by some pupils as dry and stupid. Read them. They are not. Humor springs out from all corners of the editorials or essays. They also give you something to think about. If you disagree with them, write your argument and see it published in the next issue of the school paper. Pupils enjoy these debates immensely, and you will find yourself popular. Jokes are things everybody enjoys. But, what is more dis- gusting than “stale” jokes? If something funny happens in class, write it up. Cuts for the paper are a great improvement. Anyone whose talent lies along this line should make a few cuts and pass them in. Why not try a story? If it succeeds, why not venture further with an editorial? F. Ahern, ’32.

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12 THE ECHO SUCCESS jl IARY Reynaud, a strong, healthy girl of 1UI. twenty with chestnut brown hair and a sturdy body, went about doing her chores, humming or singing. Mary had a strong in- clination to sing, not only at occasional town gatherings but at concerts and at the opera house in New York. But living on a large farm with poor parents never would make her dreams come true. “Mary, for Heaven’s sake, stop that trilling. If you are going to sing, sing right,” said her mother. Mrs. Reynaud was a hard- to-persuade French woman who came to Iowa from Canada, and she did not like music any too well. Mary was subdued for the time being, but still went on thinking of how she would look before a large audience in an opera house. All the time she was sweeping the same spot of the kitchen floor about forty times. The large farm on which the three mem- bers of the Reynaud family lived had three barns, a large rustic farm house, several chicken coops, and a piggery. The furniture was quite antique, rough, and used. Braided rugs covered the whole house, from the din- ing room to the last four bedrooms. The kitchen contained an old iron sink, three straight homemade chairs, and worn, but clean handmade curtains. Mrs. Reynaud was a very industrious and neat person, despite her her none too culti- vated ear for music. At suppertime, just as mother was set- ting the table, and Mary mending socks, Father Reynaud walked in. He was a Frenchman of about sixty-three years, still active, and striving to get along with such a large farm on his hands. He sat down slowly, then began to speak. “Mother,” he said, “I’ve got a few pigs that I would like to sell, but who in this vicinity would want to buy them?” “Perhaps Mr. Harper would buy them. He hasn’t many pigs on his farm,” replied Mary. “Well, I knew if Mr. Harper wanted any more pigs, he would have bought them by this time. He’s wealthy enough,” replied the father. “But there is no harm in trying,” pro- tested Mrs. Reynaud, who finally persuaded Mr. Reynaud that he might be able to in- veigle Mr. Harper to buy his few pigs. The next morning, bright and early, Mary set out in the old horse and wagon to make the sale. Over the rocky road she went. Squeaking pigs and screeching wheels re- sounded loudly in the still spring air. Ar- riving at her destination, Mary was greeted by Mrs. Harper, a good-natured woman, who conducted her to the parlor, and then called to her husband. Mr. Harper entered. He was a bright, jolly, wealthy farmer, about sixty years old. “Well, what can I do for you, young lady?” laughed Mr. Harper. Mary presented her business, and after a few minutes’ contemplation on the part of Harper, he decided that he would like to have a few pigs on that rather “dude” ranch of his. Mr. Harper had taken a liking to Mary. He never had a girl of his own, or for that matter, he never had any children. The wholesomeness of Mary’s smile prompted him to ask her a few personal questions as to her interests and likes. After making the sale, Mary felt just like talking, so she told him all about her desires to become a singer. Mr. Harper listened intently to every word and detail. He thought how nice it would be if he could help her in some way, and why couldn’t he? He had money and was a good friend of the family. But then, there were her proud parents standing in the way. Mary went to sleep that night happy over the encouragement given her by Mr. Harper. For the first time in her life she felt a spark of hope. Three weeks passed. Contentment reigned in the Reynaud family. But contentment did not reign within the soul of Mr. Harper. He had everything, a farm, money, servants, good crops, a good wife, and not a care in the world. Why shouldn’t he make someone else happy? These were the very thoughts of Harper. All during the next afternoon, Harper sat in the old rustic sitting room, trying to make Mary’s parents see that she had her own life to live, and should be given a chance. Mary, victorious, packed her bag and went to New York. In her apartment she prac- tised for five hours each day. She was taking- lessons of one of the best teachers in the city. And under the apt supervision of this teacher, she won several prizes at contests which were held by the pupils. Besides this, she sang at informal gatherings which they held. But now was her big chance. Would she win that position to sing over the radio? Six tried for it. Mary, nervous and anxious, awaited her turn to sing. And did she sing? It was pretty hard judging, but Mary got the prize. In the meantime, the Reynaud family seemed lost without their only daughter. There was no singing or ridiculous trilling. Everything was quiet. Even the cows and pigs seemed to miss her. Mr. Harper visited frequently, seeming more pleasant than ever, if possible. He knew he had done some- thing worth while. He knew that his money wasn’t wasted, from Mary’s frequent letters and from her frequent broadcasts. It sounded impossible. It couldn’t be true. Still she was hearing it with her own ears, that she was wanted to sing in the opera “Carmen” which was to go to Boston in three months. She sat and heard as if in a daze. Her teacher was telling this to her. Mary hurried about wildly, trying to find a piece of paper on which to write the good news to her mother and father and to Mr. Harper. Harper’s letter read quite like this; My dear Mr. Harper, I don’t know how to thank you for your kindness in lending me money. Enclosed

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14 THE ECHO BOB JONES «pOME on, Bob, this is no old ladies’ vv home,” said Jim Clancy as he rounded a corner in the Central Fire Station and saw Bob Jones looking across the wide streets of New York. By the tall, gray, brick buildings and skyscrapers he watched the actions of a steamer as it entered the harbor. Bob Jones was a young man of perhaps twenty-five years. He stood five feet and eleven inches in his stocking feet and weighed nearly two hundred pounds. His wavy golden hair was set off by a square firm jaw and a pair of light blue eyes. Bob, when not on duty, was usually call- ing on a sweet little girl named Mary, who, by the way, was the daughter of Jim Clancy, Bob’s boss. Bob had been advanced gradually in pay and in work at the Central Fire Station al- though his boss didn’t like him. Jim Clancy’s main reason for not liking Bob was because Bob wanted to marry Mary, Jim’s daughter, but Jim wanted his daughter to stay with him a little longer, as his wife was dead. On January 12, 1931, at about eleven o’clock in the forenoon, the fire whistle be- gan tooting continually. Men in the fire house were rushing and scrambling for the trucks. Bob’s job was driving the large hook- and-ladder truck, this being quite a re- sponsible position. Bob pressed the starter button and started from the fire house with a rush; it took a person’s five senses to manipulate a fire truck through the crowded streets of New York. As Bob sent the truck twisting and turning around between other cars, the other firemen watched the blue clouds of smoke in the distance rolling skyward. After turning down a few side-streets to avoid the more heavy traffic, the truck ar- rived at the scene of the fire. The firemen found a large three story building, which happened to be a storing house, with smoke coming from the many windows and rolling skyward. Already small white streams of water were playing on the building, and many big ladders were being swung into place; men could be seen trying to save the stored materials. In one hour and thirty-five minutes the fire was out, the firemen were blackened, exhausted, and ragged, and the building was a total wreck. A small part of the goods was saved. The firemen were lying in trucks, some exhausted, others wounded, and still others were unconscious. Everybody but the driver was lying in the back of the truck. Just as they were rounding a sharp turn on the way home, there was a screeching, crashing, grinding noise made by the chief’s small red car rounding the turn at the same time, and car and truck collided leaving a mixed mess of chemicals, bodies, and the remains of a small red truck and a red car. Two days later Bob woke up in Mary’s house as she was applying salve to his newly bandaged wounds, and as he looked up into her eyes, she gave a sigh of relief. “Oh Bob, I thought you would never regain conscious ness again.” Several days later Bob was still bandaged, but he took a walk down to the fire station, where he was told he had lost his job, but before the day was over, Bob had found another job at a much smaller station at the Eastern Fire Station. Although there was less pay, he intended to start in this new fire station and work up again. For the first few days in the new station, Bob was very busy with his new job, ancl it was several weeks before Bob got to see Mary, but when he did see her, he made up for lost time by getting her promise to marry him. Three days after Bob’s next visit to Mary, a large fire broke out near the water front; several large vessels had been tied up to the wharf and now being aground, they couldn’t get away. A large fishing building and a large linen manufacturing company’s build- ing were in danger. The department with which Bob worked was the second depart- ment to arrive at the scene of the fire, and every man had his work cut out for him. Bob s job was to help salvage the goods in the factories and buildings. Bob had a weird looking thing on his face which they called a gas mask. He had a hard iron hat on his head, and he was outfitted in rubber boots and rubber coat. Above that he had a small electric lamp and a wicked looking axe which he started using on the door of the large building. Pictures from the outside of the building were a sad sight. Several buildings were ablaze. Large clouds of smoke sometimes hid the firemen. There were several ladders wedged against the side of the building, and many streams of water were being pumped on the building. Bob, in the meantime, was also bustling around, throwing goods from inside the burning building to safety outside the fire circle where it was promptly carried to safety by the other men. Suddenly, as Bob rounded a turn in the old box factory, he came upon the Chief, Jim Clancy, lying flat on the floor with a large girder holding his foot. As Bob started to remove this girder from the prostrate chief, a large packing box fell upon him, breaking the air container of his gas mask. Bob then put a wet rag over his nose, thus making him breathe easier; then he resumed his efforts to free Jim Clancy. The fire was now creeping more closely, the smoke was getting more thick, and the building was getting more unsteady. At last Bob had removed the girder from Jim’s leg, and he was now carrying him towards the door. Just as he got ouside the door, he col- lapsed with his great load, and both Jim and Bob were carried away. When they reached the station, both Jim and Bob regained con- sciousness, and Mary, having heard of the great fire, was waiting for the return of the trucks at the station. As Bob, Jim, and Mary were gathered in the back room of the station, Jim said, “Mary, you go home and set the table for two, Bob and yourself. I will be home later.” Jim also gave his consent to the marriage of Bob and Mary.