Ipswich High School - Tiger Yearbook (Ipswich, MA)

Page 12 text:

all the Counts, Marquis and Allies of Louis XVI, had lived. The King had been beheaded only the day before, and the little band of Royalists were unable to find a leader as none of the nobility dared to leave their families. At last a voice rang out, “Beaufois! Where is the Count? He will lead us to victory.” The walls of Count Louis Beaufois’ chateau lay in ruins, but still offered shel- ter from the turmoil, for the Countess and her two small sons, Charles and Jean. It was here that the little band of follow- ers found their chosen leader. “Beau- fois, you are needed; your country calls you,” came a strong voice, ringing through the tumult, to the Count. “Ma fois, ” shuddered the man, “I can- not leave my family to the misery alone ; but yet — ” A picture flashed through his mind of his father’s last blessing as he had sakl. “Be brave, Louis, my son. Fight your battles like a man and, above all, stand by your king.” “Yes,” the Count added hastily, “I’ll go.” Giving a part- ing embrace to his wife and children, he turned to leave them, perhaps forever. “Make haste, mon pere,” cried little Jean, “make haste, lest you be too late.” As the Count gathered his little band of followers the words of his son came ringing in his ears, “Make haste lest you be too late.” AVoifld he be too late? An- other party of Girondists had entered the town. Ah! Yes, Beaufois, too late! The scene in the streets was one of utmost misery, where men slaughtered children and women by the scores. The beautiful o ] d cathedrals and palaces were burning and some were even being torn down on the very heads of the occupants. The Count called on his forces to charge. Where were they? v They had deserted him ! At the sight which they could not endure they had fled in all di- rections, leaving the leader with less than a score of followers. What could they do? Beaufois, who still had the picture of his father before him, roared once more, ‘ Charge ! Down with the villians ! ’ ’ The fight was hand to hand and fist to fist, and before long, the few Royalists were trampled under foot. All but Beau- fois. He was bound, stoned, spit upon, and cursed. “Alas!” he thought, “I could bear these tortures bravely if I cou ] d only know that my wife and chfldren were safe.” But no word of his wife came, and the man, discouraged by his failures to be of service to the country, slept in a corner on a heap of rubbish, where he had been thrown. He was suddenly aAvakened by someone tugging and pull- ing at him. Then he was dragged through street after street, too sore and weak to know what was being done to him. At last the little party, made up of a few guards and Beaufois, reached Paris and the prisoner was taken to the St. Sauver prison, which had been captured at the outbreak of the revolution by the Girondists. The Count passed the step- less night in worry. Before dawn the next day, he was led out to meet his fate at the guilloti ne. As he was led forth, he felt a steady gaze upon him and, turning slightly he met the eyes of an erect, manly ngure. The gaze was fixed searchinglv upon him as if the man tried to recall an instance. Beaufois was sure that he had seen the man before. But where? Ah, his head was in confusion; he cou ] d not understand it all. The tall figure edged nearer as if to have a word with the pris- oner. By some chance little short of a miracle, the man proved to be a long lost friend cf the Count’s, who had come i ) save him. Could he, ah, could he by any means cut loose the prisoner’s bonds? The time had come; the guards who had met at the wine-shop the night before 8

Page 11 text:

• WHO’S WHO in the SENIOR CLASS NAME NICKNAME APPEARANCE HOBBY Mable Anthony Stickum Haughty Pouting Nathaniel Archer Babe Dark Clerking Louis Bean Baron I-know-it-all Violin cat-wails A 7 arren Brown AV arnie Wobbly Telling whoppers Helen Chapman Chappy Fair No afternoon session Beatrice Connor Bea Sporty Ballet Dancing Alice Davis A1 Angelic Studying Cleola Davis Lola Loving certain people Cleon Alary Gordon Too dignified to have one Learned Translating Virgil Pamelia Gould Pam Willowy Superiority Edna Ilerlihy Eddie Wide Skipping periods Henry Hills Hen Overworked Studying History Franklin Hulbei t Frank Movie hero His pompadour Barbara James,, : Sonny Lovable Gossiping Elsie Alackinpey Else Saintly Eating Alary Nourse, Bill Aleek Keeping quiet Hazel Rogers Bob Cute Ala king eyes Rosamond Scahill Roz Snappy Entertaining Raymond Sullivan Shrimp Alinute Listening to his own voice Bernard Sullivan Bun Worried Football Bernice AVhittier Bunnie Quiet Going to church CLASS SONG Music — “I’ll Love You All Over Again.” Old Manning High School, we say good- bye, You have done your best for us. Although we are leaving, And our hearts are grieving, AVe will be true to your trust. CHORUS. Our class of nineteen twenty Brings tribute and honor to thee, AVe go forth tonight, To make the world bright And staunch little comrades we’ll be; AYhen long days look dark and dreary AA 7 e will watch for the sunshine so bright. And we’ll fight for the truth AVith the spirit of youth So three cheers for our high school to- night. Our high school days are now all over Those four dear years of our life, So singing this token Of our real devotion, Class-mates! we’ll all say good-bye. BEATRICE M. CONNOR, 1920. COUNT BEAUFOIS, THE EXILE. Roux, a once beautiful suburb of Paris, Avas being ravaged and pillaged, by a party of Revolutionists, on a certain Oc- tober morning in 1793. The streets were in great confusion; children were calling for parents; mothers were weeping for lost children, and men were Avildly argu- ing and calling for volunteer leaders. Roux was one of the first small towns to be plundered, because it was here that 7

Page 13 text:

were now more concerned about joviality and fun than about their prisoner. The. tall stranger slipped noiselessly behind the Count and with a small sharp knife cut the bonds quickly. “Make haste, mon ami,” whispered the rescuer, “make haste lest you be too late.” Where had the Count heard similiar words? He tried to remember but only for a moment, while he and his friend hid behind a pile of rubbish in a deserted cel- lar. Late that night they crept out into the darkness, and, as Beaufois was thank- ing the friend, he was suddenly grasped by the arm. He whirled about to face the former Marquis of Roux. “Count Beaufois, ” he thundered, “You are given by the authorities just forty- eight hours to get out of France, compren- nez-vous ? ’ ’ “Jc comprens, ” replied the Count, and, turning silently away in the darkness, he left the two men behind. He could find no trace of his wife and children that night, and the next afternoon he took a trading ship at Havre which was to set sail for New England that night. The exile never knew what became of his farm ily, and he ended his wretched and miser- able life in Bradford, Massachusetts, two short years later. HORTENSE JEWETT, 1922. KARAK. In the Alaskan International Trading Camp in tfayes City, Alaska, a stormy scene was being enacted between a native Eskimo trader and a young man named Lipton, dressed apparently for a long trip on a sledge. “But, man,” said the traveller rather exasperatedly, “Haven’t you anything thing better than this?” “Nothin’,” said the oily trader, spreading his equally oily hands before him in an expressive gesture. “But these are mixed blood. Not one real Eskimo dog in the establishment?” The oily trader would probably have made the same gesture had not an entire- ly white dog of the proper breed entered at that moment. “Ah-h,” said Lipton turning towards him, “How much will you sell this for?” “Karak? Nine hundred — cheap.” Lipton examined the dog’s points and pronounced her a thoroughbred Eskimo sledge dog. “Faithful,” interposed the laconic trad- er., “Faithful? To you? She won’t try to go back to you, will she?” As Karak approached the trader she turned up her lip and snarled, and, sud- denly turning, rubbed against Lipton ’s leg. It was evident she had no love for the native. Lipton took Karak outdoors, tied her with the three half breeds and drove her around a little. She was perfect when it came to teannvork and kept her compan- ions carefully in order when they need- ed it. When Lipton gave her one or two words of admiration, Karak wagged her tail to show she was friendly and jumped lightly on her hind legs leaning against the man. Lipton staggered back, amazed to see that the dog was half a head taller than he. Karak was soon bought from the trader and hitched to the team. Lipton would never have trusted himself to go safely across the frozen waste on the journey which he was undertaking with- out at least one real Eskimo dog, and even with Karak he was dubious. But the 9