Mansfield High School - Hornet / Green Years Yearbook (Mansfield, MA)

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some distance from school, was unable to withstand the rigor of winter storms and consequent bad travelling, so took an annual vacation from Thanksgiving to spring, except in her last year when it was mildly suggested that she board in town so that she could attend the full time. Boys stayed out for long periods during spring planting. The following year the somber garb of the graduates was replaced by white organdy. The boys, too, were dressed in the height of style with new linen dusters to wear on the way to the hall, and white kid gloves for the plat- form. Mr. Herbert King, the valedictorian of the class, more accustomed to wear- ing mittens than gloves, pulled his on so vigorously that one thumb broke through, necessitating his hiding his thumb in his doubled-up fist during his oration. His graduating outfit had cost his father two dollars and a quarter. Mr. Copeland was a strict disciplinarian. Before his advent a favorite practice of a certain group of boys was to throw stones at the windows of the unused part of the church to see how many panes of glass one stone would break. Shortly after his arrival he completely abolished the habit by making the boys pay for the glass. During the reign of his successor there was a period of self-discipline. Even Charles Hagerty, who was the star of the class, did things of which he was ashamed. The tongue of the bell disappeared mysteriously, and in lieu of a bell the principal used a stick of wood on the side of the door to call the school to- gether. There was really no need of summoning them even in this way, for they came only when there was no more alluring diversion. One of the popular forms of recreation in this period was dancing the quadrille in the tiny anteroom at recess and noontime. A whistling boy or a skilled player of the jew’s harp furnished the music. For outside amusement twenty of the young men formed a Young Men's Improvement Society. We wonder now if they lived up to their ambitious name. ‘They hired the vestry of the Swedenborgen Church as a clubroom. Their meetings usually took the form of dances, with a ‘‘classy’’ orchestra: an old organ brought down from the church auditorium, a violin, and a cornet. On special occasions it was not unusual for the affair to last until 5 A. M. Chaper- ones were unknown, and it would have been deemed an insult had anyone sug- gested the need of an older person’s attendance. The class of 1882 was composed of only two members, both young men, who allege they always tended strictly to business. Undaunted by scarcity of numbers, they planned to carry on the regular graduation exercises, confident of the quality of the class, if not the quantity. But, alas, they were doomed to disappointment, for the school committee allowed the principal to accept a better position, and leave three weeks before the end of the term; so school ended with- out a graduation, and the diplomas were just handed out. That year they had had five different principals. In 1883, examination rules were more rigorous than in Mr. Crowley's time, and out of thirty-five candidates only ten were admitted. The graduation exercises were held in March, a custom which continued for several years. The spring term opened in the newly finished Town Hall. Since the 30

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The History of Mansfield High School 1878—1928 By ALICE GRAY The year 1928 marks the fiftieth anniversary of the first graduation of pupils from the Mansfield High School. The school was started in the upper room of the Number Four Schoolhouse with sixty pupils in January, 1872, during the long winter vacation of the other schools. Rev. A. F. Frost was principal. In 1873 the school moved to the First Parish Church, which then stood on Union Street, just below the cemetery. Mr. John Berry, a young man who had a few years before conducted a private school in town, was hired to succeed Mr. Frost, who had resigned. Until 1877 the school was ungraded; pupils of all ages came and stayed as long as they pleased. Asa matter of form, entrance examinations were required. ‘The story is told that on one occasion Mr. Crow- ley, then one of the school board, was so sympathetic for those who did not pass that he told them that they, too, might enter with the exception of one overgrown pupil, who, in reality, belonged in one of the lower grades. Many are the anecdotes told of Mr. Berry’s regime. The pond behind the church offered a handy ducking-pool. On one occasion two boys had a dis- agreement, resulting in the immersion of one. Unfortunately for the boys, Mr. Berry soon discovered this and both felt the sting of his rod—one for ducking, and the other for being ducked. The anteroom was the judgment hall, where, on other occasions, culprits waited in suspense, never knowing whether to ex- pect a slap, a punch, or a severe shaking. A variation was to send offenders up the long rough road to Mr. Crowley’s house, in the west part of the town, to confess their crimes. The journey was the hardest part of the punishment, for Mr. Crowley was a lenient disciplinarian. “This was years before the advent of the cigarette; the boys smoked genuine pipes after lunch, which they ate in the schoolroom. ‘The resulting disagreeable odor caused Mr. Berry to forbid the practice on that floor. Subsequently the boys evolved the idea of descending to the cellar and blowing the smoke up through the cracks. At the end of four years Mr. Berry, at his request, was transferred to the grammar school. He was succeeded by Mr. Frank M. Copeland, who imme- diately introduced a system of grades with the incentive of graduation. In 1878 the first class, consisting of eight girls, received their diplomas, the exercises tak- ing place in Lovell’s Hall, now used by the Odd Fellows. Although it was the twenty-eighth of June, and hot, the girls all wore woolen dresses of black, som- ber blue, or other dark, practical colors. The room was without ventilation, so the windows were opened. Consequently the sound of the timid voices was carried through the windows, and proud parents and friends were unable to hear a word. ‘The program was furnished not only by the graduates, but by brilliant members of other classes. Although they doubtless deserved their diplomas, tests and examinations were not required, neither was perfect attendance. In fact, one girl who lived 29

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students owned their own text books, moving day was simple. The night be- fore the change the pupils took their books home with them, and the next day brought them to the new school. In 1884, the town began furnishing the books to comply with a new state law. At this time the school year consisted of thirty-four weeks. The class of 1885 graduated with one lonesome boy among eight girls. One of '87s well-known members, Mr. Ernest White, with two classmates, had an unhappy experience with an elderly deacon residing on Union Street. The deacon was strict in his ideas and had little interest in school athletics. During football practice in the yard behind the Town Hall and cemetery, the boys kicked the ball into the deacon’s chicken yard, and while engaged in re- covering it, accidentally broke the fence. Before they could reach the school, they saw the owner of the broken fence heading for the same place. Youthful legs, prompted by guilty consciences, enabled the owners to reach the schoolroom first, where they all scattered to separate hiding places. The boys were nowhere to be found when the principal tried to satisfy the irate deacon. White concealed himself behind the organ, where he remained all the morning, until the air be- came so stifling that he feared suffocation, and slunk out to be met by Mr. Tower's inquiry, ““Where have you been?’’ Ernest meekly replied, “‘Hiding from the deacon.”’ Forthwith the other boys were discovered and given the alternative of apology or a week's suspension. “They chose the latter. Return- ing a week later, they discovered that the apology was still expected, and were sent to the owner of the chicken yard. He accepted their acknowledgment of error with the requirement that they tip their hats when they met him on the street. The year 1888 saw the addition of an assistant to help the principal in his arduous duties of teaching and governing the growing school. This necessi- tated an extra room. A member of the class of ’89 tells us that competition was keen between the boys and girls; the girls gave the boys a run for their money. Scholarship, however, in the class of ’89 and preceding classes, received no reward of coveted places on the graduation program. ‘These honors were allotted by the class. The class of 1890 was the last to choose a valedictorian by vote. “They were the first to have an ode. A unique number on the graduation program was an exhibition in calisthenics by some of the boys. Several of the class en- joyed sleigh riding the two days following graduation, (March twenty-four). From 1889 to 1893 Mr. Fred C. Hardon, whose musical abilities were well recognized in Mansfield, was principal. He tried to prove in the High School his contention that everyone could sing. His theory, however, proved a failure and his plan was frustrated by the necessity of excusing several boys whose voices were changing. Until 1891 languages had been taught only as a special favor to pupils who needed them for further study. In fact, one of the early principals, either from lack of time or inclination, sent those who desired German or French to his home to be instructed by his wife. In 1891 a Latin course was introduced. A new epoch in the history of Mansfield schools began this year when Mr. E. P. Fitts became superintendent. Up to this time the entire supervision 31