Holbrook High School - Echo Yearbook (Holbrook, MA)

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THE ECHO 19 before. That is the reason the world is mak- ing such rapid progress. We meet many problems today, but they are, to a greater or less degree, the same problems that existed in the past. The Bible says, “Wisdom is the principal thing, therefore get wisdom, and with all thy getting, — get understanding”. Both of these may be secured through the intelligent study of history. Carolyn Jervey, ’32. THE “AD” SQUAD The ad squad tried to do their best To fill the Echo’s golden chest, We’ll have to give them a big hand For they tried so hard to obey the command. Though times are hard, they did their work, You can be sure they did not shirk, And everywhere they went I’m told An “Ad” for our Echo was surely sold. Each time one went, he made up his mind, A brand new advertiser he would find. They travelled here, they travelled there, They travelled almost everywhere. They did not stop till their work was done; Then they cried, “You bet we’ve won. We didn’t waste time, or play, or fool, For we have faith in our dear school.” R. Smith, ’32. It is so easy when you grin; There’s not a battle you can’t win. A grin’s accepted anywhere; A real nice one, they say, is rare. A smile’s a thing we all can’t own, But there’s no need for you to groan Because a grin can take its place And help you win in any race. If you can grin at each remark, I think you’ll find this life a lark. Don’t spend your life a sober judge, And carry in your heart a grudge. A grin will make you twice the kid That any frown ever did. It’s friends you need in this great world, When in the busy path you’re hurled. You’ve probably heard this said before, But I just hope you’ll hear it more. “It doesn’t cost a cent to grin,” So why not try it then — and win. “Nick.” THE HARPER First of all, I’ll wake the brook, Silver String, Then the grass to lean and look While we two do sing. Then before people know, Silver string, golden story ’Twill be spring, And all the trees shall breathe And blow o’er everything. Janice Lewis, ’34. THE FRESHMAN The Seniors think it is a shame The way the Freshmen act, But they were Freshmen once themselves. Now, isn’t that a fact? The Juniors think we’re foolish And cut up. Yes, we do, But the Juniors cut up also. Now isn’t that true, too? The Sophomores think we’re too small For their association, But last year they were Freshmen In our poor estimation. Oh, the Freshman has his traits For acting up and such, But of all the years in high school, Not one the first can touch. Yes, we all may have our troubles, Our foolishness, that’s true, But we also have our good times And are no worse than you. Irene Day, ’35. ON THE RANGE As the sun goes down at the end of the day, Homeward the cattle wend their way, Urged on by the cowboys, rugged and daring, Sombreros wide, and flapping chaps wearing. Their gay, carefree laughter, and the crack- ing of whips, And the tinkle of cow-bells like bells on a ship, The green of the grass and the blue of the sky, And the bark of a wandering coyote sly. But now as the day is nearly done, The cowboy’s ready for his fun, To ride quite freely o’er the range, Or joke and bicker with another exchange, Or ride wild horses unused to the rein That buck and kick in a way insane. That is their fun — their day is spent, With the set of the sun they feel content. Carolyn Jervey, ’32. REFLECTION When the sun hangs low at the close of the day And travellers stop by the side of the way, I always think of the things I’ve done, The friends I’ve lost, and the friends I’ve won, The things I have said that I later regret, And how I acted when problems I met, I usually end with a defiant movement As I see there’s plenty of room for im- provement. Carolyn Jervey, ’32.

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18 THE ECHO JUNGLE FAITH T HE weird chanting 1 of warriors accom- panied by the dismal beating- of the tom- tom suddenly came to the ears of the two weary explorers, who, having lost all signs of their trail, listened to it eagerly and pushed their way onward with new life through the wild entanglements of the Congo jungle. Suddenly a long spear darted in front of them, and as they dodged that one, many more came, and before they could realize what had happened, they were bound hand and foot and were being carried into a small village consisting of about twenty straw huts perched up in the air about ten feet. One might think them toad stools on four legs, but the one in which the men were thrown was exceptionally large and also very dark. As soon as their eyes became accustomed to the darkness, our friends looked at their surroundings, then at each other. Under their long beards one could see the counten- ances of two adventurous young men of about twenty-five or six years. They were Tom and Buddy Allen, the two sons of a famous explorer who had set out to find the “Treasure City” and who had been lost try- ing to find it. As he had not been heard from or seen for a long time his two sons and a party of negroes had set out to find him. Buddy spoke suddenly saying, “Say, we’ve made a mess of things. Haven ' t we? Just as I thought we were getting somewhere, we go and get ourselves taken captives by some old blackies. Of course, I wasn’t scared of him when he grabbed me, but I didn’t want to spoil their little game by getting rough.” “Well, let’s not mind that now; let’s see if we can get out of here. Gee, these bonds around my hands hurt!” “So do m , say, here conies that big brute that grabbed me. If I could get these things off my hands, I’d put more kinks in his neck than he has in his hair. I wonder what he wants. Say, there are three more with him!” The men came into the hut, took the bonds off their captives’ arms and legs, and took them into another large hut at the end of the village. They found themselves in the chief’s weirdly adorned hut. The natives mumbled something, and then the chief spoke in fairly good English. “You want something from me? You’re a spy of the enemy chief, Kalbal? Speak!” The boys looked surprised, and Buddy spoke, “Yes, the truth is we want something but nothing that you mentioned. We are looking for our father, an explorer, who has been missing for about six months, and your men captured and brought us here. We really were quite surprised.” The old chief thought a few moments and said, “Explorers! Six moons! Humm, I see.’ He then spoke in his native tongue to the negroes, and immediately they took the boys into a small hut, which was much more com- fortable than the first one. That night they went to sleep with the familiar howls of the jungle animals in their ears, but they had much more com- fortable quarters than they had had since they had dismissed the negro guides from their services. The next morning at sunrise they were escorted to the chief’s hut. The chief looked at them and said, “Your father good man. Save my life from king of jungle. I always like reward good men.” He waved his hand, and a bamboo curtain was pushed aside. Joyfully, the boys cried out “Father”. He rushed to them and they to him. He was so happy tears of joy ran down his tanned face. “My boys”, he cried again and again. When all greetings had been exchanged, the boys told their father their story, and then asked him his, so he sat down and began. “Just after you received my last letter, I was tramping through the forest, and soon I saw my friend here about to be attacked by a playful little lion; so just by habit I put the beast in a place where he won’t attack people any more. Well, the chief brought me to his camp here, but as all of his men who know the way back to our set- tlemen have gone northward to pay the annual tribute that they pay to another tribe, I have not been able to get back home or even communicate with you.” The boys nodded and then took their father’s arm. The chief looked very happy as they left. Within a few days the warriors came back home, and the two boys and their father bade farewell to the old chief, and as the early morning sun arose over the densely covered hills, the happy little party wendea its way through the undergrowth toward home. HISTORY Why should we study history? How many of you have said that? The answer is be- cause if any one study is to be valued above all others, history is entitled to that prefer- ence. It is a record of human thoughts, ideas, and actions, the cause and effect of human events. It is always in the making. During the Middle Ages there were no historians of any great importance. In the Eighteenth Century Gibbon wrote “Tht Rise and Fall of the Roman Empire”, con- sidered one of the masterpieces of historical scholarship. But it was not until the nine- teenth century that history developed into a systematic science. Present day historians treat history on a scientific basis, and now the reader may consider the thoughts as well as the action, and compare them with his own, always re- membering that the human equation is such that history can never become an exact science. Read history and learn what men equipped with a mind, just as you are equipped, have thought in the past upon subjects similar to those of today. We of today have much more access to historic knowledge, and it is better under- stood and more fully explained than ever

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20 THE ECHO HONOR ROLL November and December ALL A’s Senior — Myrtle Rollings. Juniors — Ruth Bettencourt, Eleanor Hall. Sophomores — Ruth Hill, Fredricka Roll- ings. A’s AND B’s Seniors — Ruth Churchill, Carol Coulter, Christie Hayden, Fred Kierstead, Clinton Leonard, Iza Michaels, Francis Moran, Robert Richardson, Dorothy Sawyer, Ruth Smith. Juniors — Lucy Cartullo, Pearl Gilley, Hope Leach, Minnie Porges, Alice Bussey, Kenneth Stanley. Sophomores — Anna Benvie, William Clooney, Marion Davison, Gladys Egles, Dorothy Hobart, Helen Michaels, Florence Mitchell, Rita Moran, Virginia Poole, Lillian Soderblom, Frances Sorocco. Freshmen — Geraldine Behan, Carlotta Casperson, Irene Day, Rita Lang, Patricia Lyons, Alma Mangott, Irving Mann, Robert McGaughey, Irene Porges, Edith Waters, Marie Welch, Frederick Welsford. January and February ALL A’s Juniors — Ruth Bettencourt. Sophomores — Ruth Hill. Freshmen — Geraldine Behan and Irene Day. A’s AND B’s Seniors — Laura Blanchard, Ruth Church- ill, Carol Coulter, Christie Hayden, Clinton Leonard, Francis Moran, Robert Richard- son, Dorothy Sawyer, Ruth Smith, and Ern- est Wiggins. Juniors — Barbara Brooks, Alice Bussey, Pearl Gilley, Eleanor Hall, William Hutch- inson, Minnie Porges, and Kenneth Stanley. Sophomores — Marion Davison, Gladys Egles, Dorothy Hobart, Grace Kelley, Flor- ence Mitchell, Rita Moran, Virginia Poole, Fredericka Rollings, Lillian Soderblom, Frances Sorocco. Freshmen — Carlotta Casperson, Rita Lang, Patricia Lyons, Irving Mann, Robert McGaughey, Gardner Mills, Irene Porges, and Geraldine Sullivan. March and April ALL A’s Sophomores — Marion Davison, Ruth Hill, Fredericka Rollings, Frances Sorocco. A’s AND B’s Seniors — Laura Blanchard, Ruth Church- ill, Carol Coulter, Ruth Dickerman, Christie Hayden, Carolyn Jervey, Fred Kierstead, Anaceta Lelakes, Francis Moran, Robert Richardson, Myrtle Rollings, Dorothy Saw- yer, Ruth Smith, Ernest Wiggins. Juniors — Dorothy Andrews, Ruth Betten- court, Alice Bussey, Lucy Cartullo, Sisag Garabedian, Pearl Gilley, Eleanor Hall, Helen Kelly, Robert Martin, Minnie Porges, Kenneth Stanley, Eleanor Wood. Sophomores — Gladys Egles, Dorothy Ho- bart, Grace Kelly, Florence Mitchell, Rita Moran, Lillian Soderblom. Freshmen — Geraldine Behan, Carlotta Casperson, Irene Day, Rita Lang, Patricia Lyons, Irving Mann, Irene Porges, Frank Stonkus, Henry Thayer, Edith Waters, Marie Welch, Tony Zarelli. Post Graduate — Helen Morse. HONOR ROLL Typewriting The following have received 40-word pins for speed and accuracy in typewriting: Ruth Churchill, Sisag Garabedian, Dorothy Saw- yer, Myrtle Rollings, and Frances Ahern. The 50-word pins have been received by the following: Pearl Gilly, Sisag Garabedian, and Ruth Churchill. OUR FACULTY Miss MAguire Miss BarTlett Mr. WalSh Miss KnUtson Miss DaMon Mr. Neal Miss MEgley Miss DoRan Miss RicHardson Miss Collins Mr. HodGe Miss MurpHy