Holten High School - Onion Yearbook (Danvers, MA)

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16 THE HOLTEN ing far away into the sun. We have often thought that there were insur- mountable barriers along the way like the wooded shore, yet they all turned out to be islands, we have passed by the fishermen who stopped contented. All the obstacles overcome we realize now that we are only commencing. Although it's rather lonely in this maze with the night setting in, al- though in our bewilderment we can't quite see the way, if we wait patient- ly for the morning sun, the blue heron will fly before us with his delicate wings oustretched. Again the old urge arises, 'go on' and we set out, pioneers of Life itself. Elizabeth Merrill. CLASS HISTORY Perhaps, my friends, you'll be sur- prised to learn that We've gone high brow . At least we've either become intellectual or High-brow and the former supposition is so imaginative that we've decided the latter theory must be correct. But don't worry. We've gone high-brow only in-so- far as we attended an exhibition held last week by a colony of artists. And perhaps you'll excuse us for that, when we tell you that four of the most promising exhibitors were our friends, Vaso Papamachail, George Danforth, Eleanor Carleton and Leo- nora Maynard. Remember how Vaso made a specialty of pictures of the teachers fwhen they weren't lookingj on the blackboards of the Holten High? We weren't at all surprised to find George Danforth represented. His drawings have always been so modernistic that they could be taken for anything the one-to-be-pleased de- sired .As for Eleanor Carleton and Leonora Maynard the class always knew that such talent as theirs was sure to make the owners famous. Of course, we were more than eager to see their work. If you care to spend an agreeable hour come, in imagina- tion, with us as we review the pic- tures. The first was by Miss Eleanor Carleton. Here we are on our first day at high school in 1927. We are all gathered in groups in the assembly hall looking anxiously toward Mr. Dunn, with Wonder on our faces as if we were anxious to know where we were going and what was to happen to us. Mr. Dunn is standing on the platform greeting us with an enormous grin. Even then he must have had a pre- monition of what was to come. Oh--what have we here? Perhaps a fire, perhaps a murder. Groups of boys are running through a doorway in an enormous hurry. A person sit- ting behind the desk is of ghostly pallor. Students pour through doors, snatch a paper, hurry into a stall, and on coming out throw the paper away. Perhaps it's an election. Why, of course, it's class election. Three times we voted. As Sophomores we elected: President, Newell Griffin, Vice Presi- dent Elizabeth Merrill, Secretary, Caroline Butler, and Treasurer, Pris- cilla Donnell, as Juniors, President, Lewis King, Vice President, Frank Merrill, Secretary, Elizabeth Merrill, and Treasurer, George O'Rourke, as Seniors, President, Ellis French, Vice President, Helen Miller, Secretary, Elizabeth Merrill, and Treasurer, Norton Dempsey. We are now glancing upon a vivid picture outlined in crimson and sil- ver. In the center are several fair maidens dancing with their respective friends. In a corner we see a group of shy looking fellows. Oh! we know now. It is none other than our Soph-

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THE 1-IOLTEN 15 ray might fall that it might bear wit- ness of that ray. Down on the wide sandy shore, with waves splashing their jewelled crests in patterned designs upon the beach, with a white sail musing on an indefinite horizon, with a cordial sun warming us to idleness, and a salt- laden breeze, refreshing our appetites as no hors-doeuvre could do, we won- der vaguely what good our mechani- cal miracles are, anyway. Nature teaches us to distinguish between the false and genuine values of life. When the sun is very persuasive, and the breezes most caressing, the petals of the Memory flower unfold as far as they can. All the pleasant memories come trooping over the edge. One of the very loveliest mem- ories that have ever unfolded for me was a quiet and most unassuming river trip I once took. The river was neither large nor un- usual in any way, but the memory of this trip is ever fresh in my mind. We started out in a small row-boat. The sun was commencing its long- drawn-out farewell for the day. At first the rowing was easy. The broad lily pads caressed the blunt prow as it gently passed over them. We were going directly into the sun it seemed and the great light hurt our eyes, but as we advanced the sun sank gradual- ly toward the horizon, gleaming invit- ingly between the tall pines and low shrubs. The shores grew extremely wild and Nature's fancy seemed sat- isfied. It was very, very quiet on this little river, save for the regular dip of the oars, the gurgling rush of wa- ter along the prow, and then the tiny splash of pearly drops from the gleaming blades. In a dark sequester- ed nook we suddenly saw a blue heron which might have been transferred to his lily pad from a bit of rose me- dallion china. Tranquil and graceful, he stood upon one long leg. We tried to paddle up to him without his per- ceiving us. Nearer and nearer the boat slipped toward him. Almost there--but he heard and flew away to the bosom of the forest. We went on up the river. Presently a barrier loomed up,-a thickly wooded shore. So this then was the end of the river. No. What had appeared a barrier turned out to be a wooded island on the other side of which the river me- andered on again. Two men were fish- ing there. They had stopped content with the spot. Silently we went on. The water was shallow in places. Oc- casionally a restless perch splashed about or a turtle was disturbed from his late suntan-bath by our coming. Green slime like a gossamer floated just below the water surface. Lux- urious crops of sedge coarser than wild oats but as fresh-looking choked up the water-way in many places. We went on and on. The end must be near. At last we found ourselves in a perfect maze of devious winding streams with the wind blowing through the sedge making it ripple and billow like the water. Night was coming on fast. Huge jagged night clouds piled up in the sky, crossing like swords the last wee gleams of the forbidden sun which still beckoned, -invitingly. We could advance no further, yet we had by no means reached the end. All about us many new streams were commencing all o- ver again and ending as abruptly. We were in the midst of severe desolation and even mystery, but the joy of hav- ing followed the main stream that far was supreme. The urge still com- manded us 'to go on'. All through the course of our high school life our class has been making a similar trip up the river. Tonight's graduation has brought us into the maze Of infinite opportunities stretch-

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THE HOLTEN 17 our first social omore hop. It was event and we put it over with great scare from our success, despite the fellowmen of higher classes, who re- fused to buy tickets till the last min- ute and who would call our Hop a Flop, However, a gay time was had by all, even those shy little fellows, for our class adviser, Mr. Fowler, talk- ed them into a few games to get them better acquainted with social affairs. All joined the grand march which was led by the Class President, New- ell Griffin, followed by our other ofli- cers. Music was furnished by the Rainbow Orchestra. Balloons were distributed for favors and the noise of their bursting, together with the chuckles and gay voices of the group proved that everyone was mer- ry. To our regret eleven bells tolled and we had to hustle home to snuggle into bed before Jack Frost could nip us, for it was a November eve- ning. The next scene is a gathering of a happy and joyous crowd in the as- sembly hall. A large thermometer on the stage registers nearly five hun- dred. What does all this mean? Why it is our party held the night of the band drive in 1927. As the different teams came in with their reports, the mark rose on the thermometer regis- tering' the money made. It was two months after this party that the school had a fair sized band organiz- ed with several members of our class participating. The next picture displayed yards and yards of chiion and tulle draped about the girls of Holten High. One dress of lavender lace took us back to the days when grandmother was a girl. No need to ask What is it? Of course, it's the Junior Prom, and what a dance that was. Everyone who attended put the memory away for future reference. It was the kind of memory which sort of balances memories of terrible report cards and final exams. As usual the girls were decked out in as many colors and styles as would be shown at a fashion show in Gay Paree. How proud their escorts were of them! All too quickly however eleven o'clock rolled around and everyone headed for home think- ing that the world-was a pretty good place after all. Another gay picture: The Band is playing, the cheer leaders, Dorothy Nimblet, Blanche Clark, Mary Con- way, Rita Kirby and Louise Mans- field, are in motion yelling out the Danvers Locomotive. The crowd is very enthusiastic as the Blue and Whites wearing new hoods come trot- ting on the field, led by Captain French. The picture tells us of the Thanksgiving game of '31 the last football game for the Senior boys of Holten High. Each year the team has been represented by several can- didates from our class. Captain French made his letter as a Sopho- more with the honor of starting every game. Lewis King, our broken field runner has been honored by scoring the most points for us. George O'Rourke played m-any a good game for the school. His punting was superior to any of our opponents. Bob Bishop held down the center position as a veteran. Many opposing teams realized this fact. C. King and H. Dwyer played several positions in the line while Grabowski barked the signals. We regret the resina- tion of Coach Crosby in our Sopho- more year. We have much reason to be grateful for the work of Coach Ayres. In Baseball Mel King was elected as Captain and has piloted this year's team with fair success. He has played remarkably well dur-