Ipswich High School - Tiger Yearbook (Ipswich, MA)

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EDITORIAL A T this time of year there are many youths who will have received either part or all of the formal ' education with which they are going to meet life. In a few years these same youths will he taking the places of the men and women of today and will carry on the affairs of the nation. May they profit by the mistakes that other people have made. Although this is one of the most critical times in history, it is necessary that the new graduates find their places in the world. In doing this their education is their best asset. By means of this education they may be able not only to lift this depression but even to forestall another by leaving valu ' able information to their successors. And they can only gather this informa tion by using their intelligence and the knowledge which they have gained in schools. Let us hope that as these youths realise the value of their edu- cation, they will continue to encourage progress of it everywhere. Cub Staff, 1932- 1933 Editor ' in ' Chief Robert Clogston, ’33 Business Manager Ervin Langmaid, ’33 Literary Editors Eleanor Mitchell, ’33; Robert Laite, ’35; Edward Rhodes, ’34 Helen Kozeneska, ’33; Paul Parker, ’34 John Alexander, ’34 Alumni Editor Margaret McLeod, ’33 Social Editors Beatrice Austin, ’33; Thelma Davis, ’33 Athletic Editors Lazarus Lazaropoulos, ’33; Peter Retales, ’33 Class Reporters Anne Patch, ’33; Theodora Burbank, ’34; Barbara Schofield, ’35 36 Exchange Editor Sylvia Todd, ’33 Art Editor To be announced Jo e Editor George Blodgett, ’33 Typists Dorothy Miller, ’33; Margaret Hamm, ’33 12

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THE TIGER VOL. XIII IPSWICH, MASSACHUSETTS JUNE, 1932 Published by the Senior Class of Manning High School STAFF Editor ' in ' Chief Ida Wells Faculty Advisors ... Miss E. Margaret Allen, Mr. Henry Merson Business Manager Donald Wood Advertising Manager Parker Hall Assistant Advertising Managers Henry Prisby, George Greene, Richard Mansfield, Kenneth Poor, Kenneth Morong Athletic Editor Douglas Wood Alumni Editor Charlotte Smith Exchange Editor Theodora Burbank, 1934 Art Editor Gertrude Berry Jo e Editors Parker Hall, Kenneth Poor Associate Editors Marjorie Dolan, Ashley Jewett, Clifford Appleton, Eleanor King, Frances Ames, Evelyn Dodge Typists Alice Hamm, Helen Alhowik CONTENTS Page Editorial 12 Cub Staff 1932 - 33 12 Literary Department 13 Graduation Essays - 19 Class Day Parts History 27 Prophecy 3 Q Gifts to Girls Gifts to Boys Will Graduation Program Class Day Program 41 Honor Awards 42 Class Pictures 43 Who’s Who 67 Sports Review 63 Senior Play 71 Operetta 72 Alumni 73 Class Celebrities 74 As the Poets See Us .76 Exchanges • — 33 Songs Inspired by the Class of 1931 84 Jokes 85 Our Advertisers 1-88

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LITERARY Idyll I NTO the land of the Sunset — far away — he drifted until his cloud boat came to rest on the golden shore. With timid feet he trod the soft radh ance of the soil. Above him the sky was deepening into. the evening blue. There was no wind, but a cool mysterious atmosphere bathed him in its dew. “ ’Tis .heaven,” he whispered, filled with awe. Over the amber field of silence a silver chariot swept, drawn by gray horses with trappings of black and silver. And in the chariot — wonder of all wonders — a beautiful maiden. Beautiful beyond words. Hair like mkb night, eyes like stars, lips like coral, and skin like the virgin petal of a half ope’d rose. The chariot came to rest beside him swaying in the air. The maiden stretched a cool soft hand to him, and in a dream he found himself beside her. “Who are you?” he whispered. “I am Evening. Come with me, for your cloud boat has drifted away and this land is fading beneath my touch. Come with me.” The horses drifted onward noiselessly and with ease as on the wind. He was at peace. A breeze ran cool fingers through his hair and closed his eyes with a gentle touch. Awakening he found himself in Twilight and the maiden bending over him. Fragrance of the sleeping world breathed from her dusky hair. “Mother Darkness waits,” she said, “and I must go.” “You will leave me? I shall never see you more? Oh, leave me not in darkness, Leave me not in woe, Take me with you, Evening, Wherever you may go!” A sad smile crossed her features and dimmed the starry eyes. “You are mortal — I, a goddess. We must part — but do not fear! Every evening — when the Sun is sinking low I shall meet you as tonight — but I must go!” With a cool kiss on his forehead she was gone. He was standing in a meadow. Night was on the world, but a fire in his heart, burning with a silver flame, told him that forever after, Evening would be the same. He could quench his burning sorrow — wash his woe away — in the calm, sweet dew of Evening — at the close of every day. — Gertrude Berry, ’ 32 . Wings of the Night T HE evening sun had shot its last beams of sunlight across a small valley nestled among the foothills. Dusk was slowly covering the hills, when Martin Purington hurried his pack mules down the winding trail to a small cabin at the further end of the valley. June had arrived, and the entire valley was broken out in a profusion of wild flowers and blossoms. The orchard of wild cherry trees behind the cabin was in blossom, and sweet incense drifted upon the warm summer breezes, making the air fragrant with a delightful 13