Holbrook High School - Echo Yearbook (Holbrook, MA)

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THE ECHO 19 JUST A HAYSEED “Now what?” exclaimed Ted in a loud voice to himself, as he stood gaping about him, his well-framed body causing people to turn around and look at him. “Whew, there’s nothin’ like this in Bloomingvale. That sta- tion there is sixty times as big as Izzy Micken’s place ever thought o’ bein’.” The idlers about the station examined him amusedly. His hands were in his pockets, his well-groomed head was cocked to one side, and his clothes were so ill-fitted and so poorly harmonizing in colors that no won- der he attracted attention. With a quick, long-strided, unmilitary step he stamped into Pennsylvania Station directly into the waiting room. Looking neither to the right nor left, he slouched into the first seat available with a deep sigh. His straw suit- case he placed between his knees so that no one could snatch it. New York, he had been wisely informed, was full of thieves. “What shall I do, and where shall I go?” he asked himself, when suddenly he became aware of an immaculately dressed young woman sitting beside him. Her merry blue eyes were gazing quizzically at him. With a jerk that almost pushed the seat over, he sprang into a sitting position and grabbed a much worn hat off his dark curls. “How-de-do?” he asked with a great ef- fort. His mother had taught him to be polite to ladies. “How do you do?” she answered in quite a pleasantly husky voice. “Here is someone that might be able to tell me where I c’d find myself a boarding house,” he meditated. “A-er-mm-a I-I don’t know yer name, but couldja’ tell me where I c’d find something to throw my bones into?” He betrayed his country even more by talk- ing. “My name is Jacqueline Ames, and I’m sure I could help you find a room. As a mat- ter of fact, the woman with whom I board might be able to let you have a room at quite a reasonable price,” noticing that he looked honest “What is your name?” “My name? Ah, it’s — it’s Teddy Jeemson.” He was becoming thoroughly embarrassed before this wonderful person. Just then a tall young man walked to Jac- queline and murmured, “I’m sorry I kept you waiting.” “Oh, I’ve been having a wonderful time. Bud,” she explained while looking at Ted, who immediately blushed to a brilliant red and envied Bud’s flawless manner and cloth- ing. “This is Ted Jeemson who is coming to live at Mrs. Mackay’s.” Bud lifted a well plucked eyebrow in his survey of Ted. A scorn, barely perceptible to a stranger, flicked on his face. Arriving at the boarding house, Mrs. Mackay immediately put the newcomer at ease. Bob, Mrs. Mackay’s son, danced around the young man, scrutinizing him on all sides. While showing him one of the rooms, she informed him, “This room is fifteen dollars a week and two meals a day included in the same price, breakfast and dinner. Breakfast from seven to eight; din- ner, five to seven.” Ted, with five hundred dollars in his pos- session, decided he’d pay anything to be near Jacqueline. “I’ll take it,” and he handed over a week’s board in advance. That evening as Bob knew that Ted wasn’t going anywhere, he went to him shyly. Ted, guessing what he wanted, inquired, “Yer want that I should read to yer?” “If you will, please,” he sighed relievedly. An hour sped on wings, with Bob drowsing in Ted’s lap. Jacqueline and Bud Flanagan came in noisily and cast a surprised glance at Ted and Bob. Ted’s tongue became glued to the roof of his mouth; not a word could he utter. “Please continue reading,” begged Jac- queline, “we won’t disturb you.” “I reckon I’ve done enough readin’ tonight. It’s about my bedtime, anyhow.” And he rushed out of the room, angry tears swelling in his eyes at his own bashfulness. Why couldn’t he be as calm and collected as that Flanagan fellow? Before falling asleep, he resolved to be- come as well poised as Bud so that Jacque- line might send him some of the admiring- looks that she was always giving Bud. Immediately after breakfast next morn- ing he went out, coming back about an hour later. He walked straight into the drawing- room and commenced reading. Jacqueline’s curiosity was so aroused that she tiptoed be- hind his chair to see what had so absorbed his interest. “Don’t mumble names when introducing people. “Don’t interrupt conversation to make an introduction. “Don’t if you’re a gentleman, exhibit let- ters from ladies.” “Oh,” escaped her lips before she could prevent it. Ted jumped up as one shot. Jac- queline became confused and hurriedly stam- mered, “I’m sorry I frightened you, but I thought you were reading a murder story by the manner in which you were so keenly in- terested.” “Oh-a-I was only tryin’ to do a lititle studyin’. Yer see I didn’t have any founda- tion in this kind of thing before I left home,” he said humbly, his eyes downcast. At once her heart went out to him. “I could try to do my best by correcting your grammar and by suggesting to you the choice of clothing.” Appreciation lit up his eyes, but he couldn’t express it in words. He only mumbled, “Thank yer.” So then the drilling began. Jacqueline be- come so concerned in her work that she even broke engagements with Bud. One evening after another was passed in studying. Ted’s grammar was improving; he had chosen an- other suit of clothes, less conspicuous than his others. To the tune of the radio Jacque- line taught him to dance. At first he was clumsy and awkward, but it wasn’t long be-

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18 THE ECHO daze and ran up the steps. The next she real- ized she was in a luxurious apartment, and there was a withered old lady dressed in black silk looking at her and asking, “What did you come for? You’re Seth Whitney’s daughter, aren’t you? “Why, yes, I’m Claire Whitney, and I’ve come to live with you if you’ll have me!” “What? You’ve come to live with me? Why, what on earth drove you to this? You must be pretty hard up for a place to stay. Did you have a fight with some foolish young ox and were fool enough to run away from him? I can’t see what girls want with those fickle young men!” “No, Aunt Hlarriet, I came of my own accord. I know a lovely young man, but he isn’t fickle. He’s just the nicest . . But she couldn’t finish; Aunt Harriet was to anxious to talk. “Then, that mother of yours has told you about your resembling me and has nagged you, so that you have come here to spite her,” she guessed, “and it’s about time you did something sensible. I don’t know why on earth that brother of mine ever married such a maniac. That certainly proves that men are fickle.” A week latter found Claire comfortably settled with her aunt and with a promise of going to college in the fall. After Claire had left Boston, Bill Rodney suddenly decided to go back to New York for the rest of the summer. He had planned to stay another month, but he said that he thought it was just as well to go home and get ready for college. On arriving in New York, he speedily went to Mrs. Whitney’s apartment. Claire was home alone and answered the bell doubtfully. She turned deathly white as he stood imploring her with his eyes. She hadn’t hoped to see him again. “Claire, you little darling. You’re the most determined girl I know. Someday it will not lead you to such a happy ending. But why did you do it without telling me?” “Bill, forgive me, please. You know it had to be.” It was a long story that story of hers, and his was equally as long, for a few weeks are very long to lovers. She was in his arms and contented at last ! That question that proceeds many happy and prosperous marriages was on his lips. “Will you marry me now, darling? You’re in New York, you know.” “Oh, Bill, you know I will but-but . . .” “Oh, there are no buts to it at all! I’m so happy to know you will mar ry me,” as he whirled her around the room. “But as I was saying when you interrupted me. I’ll have to go to college first. After all, that’s what I came to get, but the day col- lege closes I’m yours, all yours. And to think we’ll be going to the same college together only you’ll be a year ahead of me.” And they both went to college and lived all the hours of the four years planning for that lovely June day when they should be man and wife. Dorothy Hobart, ’34. On the sidewalk stood a man While past him little children ran. Both men and women passed this day, But not a glance they cast his way. The man was cold, and hungry too, But still it seemed that no one knew. His face was pinched, so blue and cold; His faded coat was patched and old. His shoes were old and much worn too. In fact, the soles were nearly through. But head held high, and chin out thrust, He swore he’d get some food or bust. And in a room so cold and bare. His wife and children needed care. He knew they’d pray ’til he returned And eagerly ask how much he’d earned. The price of food was low indeed. But extra high to those in need. This man submerged in thoughts so drear Felt some one tap him from the rear. “Now please don’t lie,” the stranger said, “But have your children all been fed? Have you a place to sleep and eat? And is your home supplied with heat?” The poor man felt as paupers do And quickly looked down at his shoe. He knew this man would offer aid. Such aid that could not be repaid. The stranger sensed his thoughts and spoke, “It is no sin. Sir, to be broke. I can’t do much. I’ll give you five To help you keep your folks alive.” Appropriate words could not be found. The poor man uttered not a sound. But thought as he grasped the hand of this man, “If I can’t repay, I know God can.” Thelma Nickerson, ’33. Miss Maguire: Everyone has two hundred bones in his body . . . Hagg (interrupting) : I haven’t, I have two hundred and four bones. Miss Maguire: Why, what do you mean? Hagg: I had fish for supper last night. Mr. Walsh: What was Columbus’ motto? MacKay: More miles to the galleon. Bob Martin: Don’t you file your nails? K. Walsh: No, I cut them off and then throw them away. Mr. Walsh: “What happened in 1483?” Olsen: “Luther was born.” Mr. Walsh: “Good. Now in 1487? Olsen (Still more brightly) : “Luther was four years old.”

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20 THE ECHO fore he acquired the rhythm of music. Hav- ing- accomplished that, his movements be- came smooth, his poise excellent. On their first night out together, they went to a cabaret. However, unknowingly, they were being followed by Bud, whose jealousy was just about over its bounds. Bud had noticed Ted’s improvement and Jacqueline’s increasing interest in the latter. Now he was going to watch them closely so that he could catch Ted off his guard and embarrass him before Jacqueline so that she would never look at him. As he entered the cabaret, he looked around to see where Jacqueline and Ted were seated. His eyes blazed when he saw the two talking intimately, their eyes for each other only. Walking with a slow pace as though he had nothing seething in his mind, he started towards their table. He almost passed the table, thinking that they would notice him, but they noticed nothing. He leaned down on the table and exclaimed in a surprised tone that confused the others, “Just think of seeing you here,” and added, “As I haven’t anyone with me, I think I’ll stay with you.” Neither one could say anything for a while, but Ted found his voice first, “We’d be delighted to have you.” His coolness angered Bud some more. “The insolent pup!” “Want to dance, Jacqueline?” asked Ted. Turning to Bud, “You won’t mind, will you?” “Not at all.” While they were dancing. Bud was thinking of revenge. What could he do? “Oh! Trip Ted while ...” But his plan was rudely interrupted by the return of the two. With eyes sparkling and looking posses- sively at Jacqueline, Ted fairly shouted, “Congratulate me. Bud. Jacqueline has just promised to marry me. If you were in a rut, don’t you think you’d like to have a girl like Jacqueline to help you?” Mumbling his good wishes. Bud tried to get out as soon as possible, but Ted inter- vened, “As an old friend of Jacqueline’s, I want you to stay and celebrate with us to- night.” Ibowever, Bud complained of having a headache and walked away, grumbling in an undertone, “Some people have all the luck. Would you have ever thought that that hayseed would be my rival, getting the best girl of all? Of all the luck that beats them all.” Lillian Soderblom, ’34. Roberts: “Laugh and the class laughs with you.” J. Smith: “Yes, but you stay after school alone.” L. Mehl : Are you the man who cut my hair last time? Bunk McPherson: I couldn ' t be, sir, I’ve only been here a year. OH, DEAR! A little mouse sat, oh, so still, Regarding me against my will. The merry twinkle in his eye Made me the doorway quickly spy. I jumped out of my seat so quick. That I ’most made the poor mouse sick. He gazed at me with frightful eye. But still to me he seemed too sly. As soon as I the doorway passed, 1 turned to see of him the last. But there did he aquivering sit Till I surely thought he’d have a fit. So quickly did his small feet leap As he did jump with no last peep; He scampered to his knotty hole And slipped right through his gnarled goal. Oh dear, a little mouse like this Had made me such a chance to miss To show my bravery with the beasts; Vexation in me was increased. Lillian Soderbloom, ’34. TECHNOLOGY LECTURES On December 10, 1932, Mr. Hodge ac- companied by the following freshmen at- tended a lecture at the Massachusetts In- stitute of Technology. The freshmen who went are as follows: Henry Wallace, Joseph Behan, and Roland Kearns. The trip was made in Mr. Hodge’s car, and they reached there around 2.15. After the lecture they went to the Tech library where they viewed all to be seen and arrived home about 5.00. On January 13, 1933, seven members of the freshman class accompanied by Miss Knutson went to Massachusetts Institute of Technology to attend a lecture given on chemistry. The freshmen who attended are as follows: Norma Caswell, Aubrey Clark, Joseph Behan, James Magee, Ruth Kier- stead, and Paul Wiggins. The trip in was made in Miss Knuston’s car, and the return trip was made in it as far as Shawmiit Station Garage, where Mr. Caswell kindly brought us the rest of the way home, reach- ing here about 6.00. Paul Wiggins, Class Editor. Chase: “It says here that a butcher found a collar button in a cow’s stomach.” Kemptcn: Bosh! How could a cow get under a bedroom dresser?” R. Hagg: “How did you get banged up? C. Hooker: “Skiing.” R. Hagg: “What happened?” C. Hooker: “Couldn’t decide which side of a tree to go around.” Chandler: Why does the whistle blow for a fire ? Lively: It doesn’t blow for the fire, it blows for water. They’ve got the fire.