Lyman Hall High school - Singer Chronicle Yearbook (Wallingford, CT)

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18 THE CHRONICLE “Toot toooot” shrieked the whistle as the train came around the bend. This time it carried two other girls to the big city to make their fortunes. What has life in store for them? Like Chris and Joyce, will they add their names to the list of small town girls, who by their courage and perseverance, make good? Helen McCartin ’41 GOOD BOYS Cliff and Jerry were very young when their parents died and left them orphans. It's a 81131110,“ said the neighbors, but none of them offered to help. Finally, Widow Grimms heard about them and went directly to the orphanage where the two boys had been placed. After all the papers had been drawn and signed, Widow Grimms and the boys left the orphanage for home in her big limousine. Years passed and the boys were given everything they desired; they in turn reciprocated Ma Grimms’s kindness and motherly affection with true loyalty and obedience. After graduation from high school, they entered college. Their first two years were very successful; both stood high in their classes. Then they fell intb bad company with boys who lived high and who spent a great deal of money in gambling. Every week they sent home for money, but Ma Grimms thought nothing of it. Holidays she spent alone with thoughts of her two boys. “Yes, it certainly is too bad. She had such faith in those boys,” said the nurse to herself. Ma Grimms was lying in a hospital bed, suffering from a severe shock that she had received that morning when she happened to pick up the newspaper, and saw on the front page a picture of Cliff and Jerry, who had been captured with four other fellows for the murder of a wealthy gambling-house keeper. After this story appeared in the newpaper, Cliff and Jerry were cleared of any connection in the episode. They decided to go home and explain everything to Ma Grimms. On the train they read of her illness and went directly to the hospital to ask to be admitted to her room. The nurse informed them that her condition was critical and that she had been calling for them. Big tears came to Ma Grimms’s eyes when she saw her boys at her bedside. As the tears rolled down her cheeks, her eyes slowly closed and her last words were “I knew they were good boys.” Marion O’Connell, 39 MY FAYOBITE PET He may be a little puppy So funny and so fat, I'd still prefer him any day To a funny old house-cat. White or black, gray or brown, With no collar nor pretty bows, It makes no difference anyway, For he’s someone’s pal—he knows. Ruth Shookie, ’39

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THE CHRONICLE actually lake her any longer to do her homework than il would have in her grandmother’s day. These modern things saved her time, so really she had more time to do other useful things than her great grandmother had had. Helen went back to her English theme, mathematics examples, and her history lessons, reassured that she would rather live in 1939. Molly Brockett, ’10 SMALL TOWN GIRLS “Toot toot” shrieked the whistle, as the train rounded the bend. “Toot tooooot!” Lazy cows, grazing in the meadows, gazed curiously at the large locomotive, as it sped hurriedly by. Inside the train, sleepy passengers lounged in their seats, reading, talking, or just looking out of the dusty windows. Joyce and her friend Chris were the only ones who had any life in them. The others had been to New York before, and thought nothing of it, but this was the girls' first trip. They were talking excitedly and counting the miles which brought them nearer to their destination. Joyce was a tall, beautiful girl of nineteen, and Chris was a short, chubby, happy-go-lucky girl of twenty. They were on their way to make their fortunes in the big city. Joyce wanted to become a professional model and later an actress, and Chris’ ambition was to enter the great Bellevue Hospital, and train to become a nurse. An hour later, the train pulled into Pennsylvania Station. The girls walked out into the crowded street, and stood confused, not knowing which wav to turn. Finally they asked a kind policeman to direct them and he took them to a near-by hotel. Here they engaged a small, but attractive room. I lie next morning Chris left for the hospital to put in her application, and Joyce left for a large model agency. Both girls felt confident that they would return with good news, but fate was against them, and two tired and disappointed girls returned home that night. Joyce had discovered that she was not the only beautiful girl in the world. At the agency there had been many experienced models who could not get work so there was little chance for her to obtain a position right away. Chris' application to Bellevue was refused as there were about fifty applicants ahead of her, and hers could not be considered until the next class graduated. After telling each other their troubles, the went to bed, hoping that the morning would bring a better outlook on life. Days passed bringing no luck to either of the girls, but they refused to give up, even though lack of money forced them to find positions as clerks in a Five and Ten-cent store. During her spare time Joyce made the rounds of the model agencies, and Chris was patiently waiting for the tilin' when her application to Bellevue might be considered. Finally their luck changed. Joyce obtained her first modeling position and Chris' application was accepted. After that, both girls were successful. Joyce became more and more popular until she was one of the best models in New York, with prospects of Hollywood ahead of her; and Chris became one of Bellevue s best nurses. Although in due time they parted, they promised each year they would meet and go back to their home town together for a visit.

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THE CHRONICLE 19 MY HOBBIES M y main hobby is nature study, and in nature study I major in trees. I have made several collections of different kinds of wood, leaves, and buds. I am now working on a seed collection, and along with this I have a small nursery for raising seedlings from the seeds I have gathered. In making my wood collections I have had to walk quite a distance for specimens. In one afternoon I may walk ten miles just looking for wood or leaves. W bile in Maine last summer, I walked miles through the woods, watching for new specimens. I am never afraid of getting lost, as 1 have a good sense of direction, and by being observant it is easy to find my way back. I have as many as one hundred and forty-five different tree specimens. This collection represents wood from Maine and Florida and as far west as California. rhe best way to exhibit a wood collection is to get your pieces of wood two inches in diameter and about seven inches long. It is best to cut different angles to show the grain. In collecting leaves they may be pressed between newspaper to dry them out and then mounted on paper. I think it is best to mount leaves in a notebook, as they can easily be found, and they do not take up too much room. Buds should l e collected near the end of winter. By dipping them into melted parafline they can be preserved and then mounted on a cardboard. I also like chopping and sawing, which is good exercise. I am experimenting with axes to see which type I can chop with best. The axes 1 have range in weight from three to four pounds. I also have learned how to hang an axe so I can get the most out of it. 1 am in the l-H Club, and by exhibiting my nature collections at 4-H fairs and being in chopping and sawing contests I have made my hobbies worthwhile. As I am able to chop and saw fairly well, I got several jobs after tin hurricane. 1 feel I have gained much of value by spending some time each day on my hobbies. Donald Tufts, ’.‘19 A SLIGHT MISTAKE At home alone Ruth took a book and curled up in her favorite chair fora comfortable evening of reading. The chair in which she was sitting was opposite the fire-place, over which hung a large mirror, wliich reflected the doorway behind her. Ruth read for a long time. As she happened to glance up, she saw in the mirror a man who seemed to be slouched over. She tried to scream but the scream froze in her throat. As she watched the man, lie toppled over with a crash and lay very still. In order to get out of the room, Ruth had to pass him; so to make sure that Ik was unconscious, she threw her book at him, hitting the still figure in the head. Ruth heard a crunch and was sure that she had cracked his skull. She rushed out of the house and bumped into her father, who was coming up the walk. She told him her story, and he hurried into the