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

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To Adrian Ringuette, Betty Cahill leaves her habitual nonchalance and her slogan: “Happy I am; from care I am free. Why can’t the whole world be contented like me?” Ruth Nickerson and Eleanor Agnew leave their perfect attendance records to Etta Wellman. Weldon Britton leaves his reserved seat in Attleboro’s famous Ice Cream Shop, popularly known as Wolf Hollow, to Alfred Peterson. Al Scatolini leaves his “personality” smile to Dunda Vickery. Scat’s philosophy has been, ““A smile for every fellow, and two for every girl.” In witness whereof, we, the Class of 1941 of the Mansfield High School, hereby set our hand and seal to this our will, the seventeenth of June, one thousand nine hundred and forty-one A. D. Witnesses : Brenda and Corbina Elsie the Cow 22

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Virginia Shaw wills her position as fashion leader in Mansfield High to Priscilla Shepard. George Fasulo leaves Fred Flint this motto: “Ambition was the cause of Caesar’s death; it surely won’t be mine.” Bob Brutcher, the Paine Corner king, leaves the secret of his peaches-and-cream complexion and his bouncing good health, to Betsy Fitzgerald. Eleanor Palladino and Angelina Bern- ardo leave their sparkling eyes and friendly natures to Ruth Barrows and Lydia Kashtan. Because their tastes are so similar, Edward Bessom leaves Grant Wood his role as the Don Juan of Mansfield High. Yolanda Turinese leaves her perpetual smile to Lucrezia Benigni with the advice— “A smile is worth a million dollars and doesn’t cost a cent.” To Mary Munroe, Ruth Goddard relinquishes her job of passing out sand- wiches to hungry students. Bernard Gegenheimer wills his draft number to Fred Brown. Donald Hill leaves Eddie Julian his nine athletic letters, although we are sure that Eddie has his own nine securely packed away in the future. Eda Menga leaves her task of entertaining at club meetings to Ruth Bolton. Helen Shea leaves this advice to Nancy Tuell: ‘Never let your studies interfere with your education.” And Helen has certainly learned a lot. Walther Jellinek wills his ability to speak German, French, Italian, and Spanish to any junior who has the gift of tongues. To Deborah Sullivan, the girl with personality plus, Edgar Vernon leaves his own book, How To Be Friendly with Everyone in Spite of Owning a Candid Camera. Helen Rathbun leaves all her shorthand books to Miriam Muilson. Thelma Thompson and Frances Navitsky leave the Mansfield High, each as an army hostess to join her one and only. errs Sak pane 9 ne pice C Nene tn bee me eS Patricia Sullivan leaves her hopes of becom ing a ballet dancer to Helene Gallipeau and Priscilla Wheeler, who also have ambitions in that direction. Fritz Cipriani leaves his N. Y. A. job to Joe Texiera and counsels him not to work on the night shift if he is in love. Eddie Nielsen—and how he loves Jelly !—leaves a pamphlet entitled ““How ‘To Be Light and Nimble on Your Feet, and Not Too Hard on Your Partner’s.”’ Ruth Sanford leaves her love for tennis to Kay Reilly with the hope that it will do as much for Kay as it has done for her. Ermina Mason leaves the débutantes forever. James Ingram leaves Barbara Dean the responsibility of upholding the rank and dignity of the Senior High School. Margaret Moore, Claudine Scaldini, and Catherine Wondergem, three of our class athletes, leave Mansfield High School at a high rate of speed, guaranteed to win any hundred-yard dash. 21

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rophecy BY Epwarp NIELSEN When I applied for a position as reporter for the Associated Press, I never dreamed that I should be sent to Brazil. Some exotic island in the South Seas, where life is not too strenuous, would have been more to my taste. But here I was in Rio de Janeiro with plenty of work to do and the temperature steadily rising. Realizing that I could not change the weather, I leaned back into the path of the electric fan and started to sort the huge pile of news reports which had collected during the night. My mind was not on my task, however, because at any minute I expected to receive a cable notifying me of the date of my vacation. “Business before pleasure,’ I told myself firmly, as I started my work. After glancing through several reports, I noticed that the foreign bulletins contained names which sounded unusually familiar. “London, England, May 9, 1951: Lady Shirley Williamson, American-born peeress, is the third woman member of the British Parliament. ... New York, U.S.A., May 9, 1951: Patsy Flammia, noted artist, has just won the Wright Medal, donated by the retired Wall Street broker, C. D. Wright. Flammia’s canvas entitled “The Smoke House on South Main” was best in its field in the recent art contest held in New York. . . . Belgian Congo, May 9, 1951: Betty Cahill and Angelina Bernardo, the diminutive explorers, have just returned to civilization after three years in Darkest Africa, where they have been held captive by a tribe of pygmies. . . . Dover, England, May 9, 1951: Anna McKee, famous American swimmer, has just conquered the English Channel. . . . Los Angeles, U.S.A., May 9, 1951: Weldon Britton, who flew his plane, The Jute Box, upside down, from New York to California, completed the trip in fourteen hours. He told the reporters that he expected his feat would revolutionize air transportation. “Tt must be the heat,’ I murmured, as I dazedly mopped my brow. ‘How could I forget that all these famous people were once members of my own high school class!’ Then a sudden thought came to me. Why not spend my vacation searching for the other members of ’41? The buzzer on my desk rudely interrupted my day-dreaming. I snapped the switch and heard Helen Rathbun, my secretary, say that my long-awaited cablegram had arrived. In my hurry to get to my hotel and pack, I almost bowled over Ruth Nickerson, the receptionist, and Helen O'Donnell, operator of the teletype. Only after I had hastily packed my grip, did I realize that the Pan-American Clipper Ship would not leave for several hours. As the movie house was the only cool place in the city, I dropped in. Imagine my surprise when I saw in the Pathé News Don Hill, successor to Willie Hoppe, the billiard champion. Next, Alfred Cipriani appeared, racing his Red Runner on the salt flats of Utah in an attempt to make a new speed record. I applauded loudly when Eda Menga, my favorite lyric soprano, showed her attractive smile in the previews for the coming week. Then the first picture flashed on the screen. To my utter amazement, Herbert Rolls was playing the part of Carson Jones, the hard-riding hero, with Hope Sherman in the cowgirl’s role. The audience, composed mostly of South Americans, liked the picture immensely. The main feature showed Robert Brutcher as the bold, domineering hero trying to protect Helen Shea, a shy, quiet, little Irish colleen. And who was the villain? None other than Guido Leonelli, who eventually turned out to be a gentleman well disguised. “How typical of the pictures directed by Robert Chambers,’ I thought to myself. 23