Holbrook High School - Echo Yearbook (Holbrook, MA)

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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.

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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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THE ECHO 21 The American Legion Post of Holbrook conducted an essay contest in the senior high school. Several submitted essays and Leslie Thorud’s was the one selected by the judges as being the best. An award will be given at graduation. THE LEGION PRIZE WINNING ESSAY Why We Celebrate Armistice Day In Our Town Just why do we celebrate Armistice Day? That is a question to consider. Is it just to make people stop in their everyday routine to remember that several delegates from several countries affixed their names to a document that brought succor to a war- wracked, tortured, mad world ? Is it to give the tired working person a respite from the hum-drum existence of offices, shops, schools, etc., or the eager school- boy a holiday from school? Is it because the treaty signed on November 11, 1918, was as eagerly heralded as “the shot heard round the world in 1775”? No I We celebrate Armistice Day to honor all the men and women who played any part in the war for the preservation of Democracy. On that Day we honor those brave men who answered the call of a Na- tion in distress, the women who sent their loved ones out into the unknown with a smile, and then prayed while their busy fingers did their bit, and the women who joined to bring a bit of comfort to those who were injured and maimed in the fray. They all played their parts superbly, but the war left the stamp on all — some re- turned hopeless cripples, some did not re- turn, and those who did seemed to have lost their youth, that intangible something which makes young people face the world unafraid and hopeful. All did their duty, strong and unafraid! All deserve the high- est honors, and Armistice Day is the Na- tion’s tribute to its brave men and women. Armistice Day is beautiful, and — sad. We, who see the parades and celebrations on Armistice Day, feel a thrill of pride run through our bodies, our hearts beat faster and we are moved by that emotion known as patriotism. Those men who participate in the parades and celebrations are proud to follow the flag of our Country, just as proud as they were in 1917, their step is just as true and unfaltering as then, their eyes fixed ahead with the same steady pur- pose, but, in almost every heart is the thought, more poignant than ever, of the “buddie” sleeping Over There. To these men, the parade means more than an Armistice Day celebration — to them it is the outward manifestation of keeping faith with those who sleep in Flander’s Fields! To the cheerful, courage-instilling march music they keep perfect step — to the ones who no longer march at their sides they keep perfect faith — those men who risked their all for Democracy. We weep when we see a straight khaki- clad figure place a wreathe on the grave of our Unknown Soldier, but in the crowd may be many a Mother, dry-eyed and proud, whose anguish is solaced by the thought that perhaps the boy who lies there, hon- ored and revered, is her own son — the boy whom she gave to the Country’s need; many a wife, sister or sweetheart who sent away her loved one, never to see him again — these, too should be honored on Armistice Day. They also serve, who stay and wait! When the sad, beautiful strains of Taps float over the air, both we who are here and those who sleep “somewhere in France” know that we are honoring them; they know they are missed; they know Armistice Day is their Day. We can never honor them enough, those gallant men— and women — who have risen nobly to the occa- sion at every opportunity. They gave their lives that we might live; they risked their all that we might be saved, and to them we owe a debt that can never be paid — a debt that we recognize by our Armistice Day celebration. It is not only the “sleeping dead” who are honored, when we whisper a prayer at Taps, it is the “living dead,” too, who are still paying the price of war in our hospitals and institutions. They, too, de- serve our highest honors at this time. We celebrate Armistice Day in our town to honor and pay homage to the men and women who played their parts so nobly in the greatest of all dreams, a drama her- alded by death, inspired by nobility of pur- pose, characterized by courage and acted on Life’s stage, “THE WORLD WAR.” Leslie Joan Thorud, ’33. THE ECHO I should like to point out to you the work done by the staff in bringing this publica- tion to you. All the material is contributed by the students of the school. No assign- ments are given to obtain this material. We have two editors from each class whose duty it is to get all this material from their classmates. All this goes to the literary editor, who decides whether it is suitable for the Echo. Then it goes to the Faculty Adviser for final revision. This year the staff had no difficulty with collecting literary material, but it has found it very difficult to finance the paper. Both subscriptions and advertisements are needed in order not to go in debt. As a large number of former advertisers are not advertising this year, it was necessary for the staff to exert themselves to the utmost to obtain money for this issue. The policy has always been not to pub- lish an issue without having sufficient funds. This issue is now before you, which shows you that the editors have supplied you with enough literary material, and that the business managers have been able to raise enough funds to have allowed this June issue to go to press. K. Stanley, Editor-in-Chief.