Maynard High School - Screech Owl Yearbook (Maynard, MA)

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10 THE SCREECH OWL The letter was very short and con- cise evidently the writer didn’t be- lieve in beating around the bush. My dear niece and nephew : I am sending you each an opportun- ity to realize your ambitions. You never get anything in this world for nothing and though I am sending you the prize first, it is going to take time and wits to earn it. Your uncle, Robert Whetherhill. T can see that you are puzzled,” Aunt Kate said with an amused smile, “but that is just like your Uncle Robert. Open the box, Don, while I give you an idea of him.” “Of course he is very wealthy and maybe you think he is eccentric after reading his message. But I have a hunch that he knows about your grandmother’s plan to take you away and because he dislikes her he doesn’t wish her to be successful, so he is sending you something which prob- ably will aid you so you will be inde- pendent. You see he had to live with her several years and he never forgot it.” “Aw, look,” Don said in disappoint- ment, taking out what appeared to be a vase. It was about two feet in height and a little more than one foot in circumference. It was made of clay and covered with a weird oriental de- sign. Two little iron rings hung on opposite sides of the neck. After examining them thoroughly and finding nothing of value either in- side or outside, Don muttered, “Op- portunities, ambitions — never get anything — etc.” “They’ll make pretty good orna- ments, but that’s about all,” Peggy said, “I don’t see any prizes concealed in them.” “Of course you won’t find the prize if you give up before you begin,” Aunt Kate said reproachfully, “you have three months to solve the mys- tery.” So with a great deal of enthusiasm for they loved mystery, the twins plunged into the task of solving the mystery of the vases. The future didn’t seem as dreary and dark as it had before. But it wasn’t as easy to solve the puzzle as it seemed. After two months when the twins were no nearer to the goal they began to feel discouraged. Aunt Kate helped as much as she could but though the three studied, thought, planned and worked no one could find the solution. One evening about two weeks be- fore the unhappy day of parting, the twins were sitting down together on the sofa discussing the vases. A neighbor came over to see Aunt Kate and ask her advice about decorating a booth. “I can’t think of another idea,” she declared, “and I’m getting tired of having my booth decorated the same every year except in different colors.” “Well, I have an idea,” Don said thoughtfully. “Bright boy, you may never have another so hurry up and tell us,” Peggy said patting him on the head. Don grinned, “Speak for yourself, smartie.” Then to the Mrs. Heeney who was waiting patiently. “Why don’t you decorate it in an oriental fashion.” “The very thing, oh thank you,” Mrs. Heeney beamed, “and I can have some incense burning and every- thing.” “Why you could take our vases,” Peggy chimed in, “they’re certainly designed in an oriental style.” Mrs. Heeney thanked them all and de- parted saying she would send her hus- band over for the vases the next morning. “Maybe you shouldn’t have offered the jars to Mrs. Heeney,” Aunt Kate said afterwards, “they might be broken.” Don said nothing but in his heart he fervently wished that the old vases would be lost or shattered in pieces. For it seemed hopeless now to think of solving the mystery.

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THE SCREECH OWL takes in the past, we hope to make the “Screech Owl” of tomorrow far better than the “Screech Owl” of yesterday or today. Edward C. Feams. Their Extraordinary Legacy There was a great commotion in the little white cottage. A large box had arrived for the twins with a letter accompanying it. “What do you suppose it is, Don ?” Peggy asked, running around excited- ly for a hammer. “Can’t find out until we open the box,” Don answered drily, neverthe- less feeling just as excited as his sister. “Well, let’s read the letter first,” Peggy said, “then we’ll know what is in the box.” But after reading the letter, the twins looked at each other dumbly. For a moment neither spoke. Then Peggy said in a small voice. “I guess we’d better wait until Aunt Kate comes home, to solve this queer message.” Aunt Kate completed the family of three who lived in the little, rose- vined cottage. The twins didn’t re- member their mother but there still lingered a vague memory of a tall, silent father with sad, brooding eyes who left them when they were eight years old. So, Aunt Kate their father’s maiden sister came to live in the little white cottage and take care of two children. Nine years had elapsed since that time and the twins were now in their late teens and were Seniors in the Mayfield High School. “Here’s Aunt Kate now,” cried Don, who had been looking out of the window. But it was not the Aunt Kate that they knew who met them at the door. The dear face that was usually so cheerful and ga y was pinched and drawn with sorrow. The gay greet- ings died on the twins’ lips as they piloted her to a chair. After a few moments Aunt Kate said in a shaky little voice, “I’m all right now.” She took a letter from her pocketbook. Don and Peggy looked at each other fearfully. What did the letter con- tain and if that was the cause of their aunt’s sudden grief. “I received a letter from your grandmother.” Gaining courage from the sound of her voice Aunt Kate continued, “She wants you to live with her.” Immediately Peggy and Don burst into violent protests. They didn’t want to go away and leave Aunt Kate. She tried to make them see what the change would mean, but all in vain. The twins knew their grandmother was wealthy. College and travel would not be a dream but a possibility. But they also knew that their grandmother was selfish and cruel. She didn’t want them seven- teen years ago. Then she certainly could get along without them now. “And furthermore,” Don said firm- ly, “we wouldn’t leave you for a thousand grandmothers.” However, the twins had to give in to their aunt’s will in the end. It was a very dejected and silent group who sat around the fireplace staring into the fire and avoiding each other’s eyes. Peggy was sobbing softly and declaring over and over again that she didn’t want to go. After listening for a few minutes Don decided to go into the kitchen and get a drink. Gosh what a lump could rise in a fellow’s throat, it seemed like a mountain when you tried to swallow. On his way out he stumbled against the box. Immediately Peggy stopped crying and screamed instead, “Oh, we forgot all about the box.” An excited ex- planation followed and in the end Aunt Kate was no wiser than she had been in the beginning. “Let me see the letter,’ she said after trying to listen to both of them at once.

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THE SCREECH OWL 11 Each day seemed to slip by more quickly than the one before and sud- denly came the sad day. It was a few hours before train time and the twins were packing a few last belongings. Peggy went about with red eyes and swollen nose, with armfuls of clothes dumping them in a trunk, and between intervals sat down to cry. Aunt Kate stayed in her room with the plea of a headache. Don went from trunk to closet with a face a mile long and gave the trunk a vicious kick now and then to relieve his feel- ings. The front door bell rang. Both tried to ignore it. “You go down, Don my nose is red,” Peggy said. He appeared a minute later with their vases. “I suppose we’ll have to take them with us,” Peggy said eyeing the vases gloomily. “Not if I have my way about it,” Don said under his breath, gazing thoughtfully at a pillow that was in his path. “Look out Don,” Peggy cried, but it was too late. Don lay on the floor looking stupidly at the shattered pieces. “Aw, Wreck of the Hesperus, I thought it was gone.” Then suddenly his eyes widened. For in the pile of broken clay, lay a gold vase. Don picked it up slowly wondering if he might be in a dream. “What happened?” asked Aunt Kate anxiously, hurrying into the room. “We’ve discovered the mystery of our extraordinary legacy,” Peggy cried. Then Don took the other one and threw it on the floor violently and a golden vase rolled out. About an hour later a very happy group were sitting around the fire- place discussing their extraordinary legacy, while a certain old lady was very much surprised to receive a tele- gram firmly refusing her kind offer of a few months ago and a certain old gentleman chuckled with delight over his message which read. Thanks. It takes time and wits. Don. Helen Dudzinski, ’29. A WORD TO THE FRESHMEN I Our Screech Owl is one year old, ’Tho many copies have not been sold. We wish the Freshmen weren’t so cold Then the number of sales would be untold. II Over the other’s shoulder they peer, As if they got a better view from the rear! Fifteen cents isn’t very much But the Freshmen seem to think it such. Ill Maybe this is a little sarcastic. But we hope it works like elastic And stretches and stretches, till it reaches each ear Then maybe the Freshmen will buy with fear! Jeannette C. Johnston, ’28. The Owl The Screech Owl is becoming rec- ognized more and more by the towns- people, who have manifested an inter- est in this activity, not only by sub- scribing and advertising, but also by a gift from a citizen of the town. At the student assembly, held or Wednesday, February 15, a mounted owl was unveiled, the gift of Mr. Wi] liam Reid. While Mr. Reid’s gift wa’ made primarily to the student body,