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

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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,

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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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12 THE SCREECH OWL it was intended by him to be a s 3 anbol of the Screech Owl. By a unanimous vote of the student body, it was de- cided that a letter of thanks be sent to the donor. The Screech Owl staff wish to take this opportunity to thank Mr. Reid for his gift. The owl is now placed in the library, a fitting place for the syrnbol of wisdom. May it instill in the minds of the students of M. H. S. the value of sagacity and repose. Edward C. Feams, ' 28. Our Vacation It happened in the glorious month of July, on a most wonderful summer day. I set forth with the antiquated liivver, our family relic, and the fam- ily, dog included, to spend a much anticipated vacation by the sea. We were to camp out on the beach, so the car was loaded down with camp apparatus. The family was so anxious to get started, that we went a day ahead of schedule. Amid the shout- ing of farewells and the barking of the dog, we majestically rode away. Oh, weren ' t our neighbors jealous of our coming vacation at the seaside! One long stretch of roads, a breath of salt air, and we were there. We selected one of the most en- chanting spots on the Atlantic coast, and here we pitched our tent beneath a group of sheltering trees. We were a quarter of a mile away from the surf but we could plainly hear the water pounding up the beach. Tlie first day was one of explora- tion. The whole family turned out, and we hiked up and down the beach seeking pearl-producing clam shells. We managed to locate only a few tiny land snails and then learned to our great disappointment that pearls were very scarce here. In the late afternoon we gathered driftwood for an evening camp fire. Seated about the blazing logs we would tell all the tales we had ever heard or read. The pounding surf made mysterious noises and enthusiasm waxed high. Despite inconveniences my family became so attached to this gypsy life that when it was time to depart I found it hard to persuade them to re- turn to the hot city. Finally we de- cided to break camp the next day. We were congratulating each other for the wonderful weather we had been having, for it had not rained but once the whole two weeks we were down there. Even then it was only a slight drizzle. We went to bed that night at an early hour so that we might be fully rested for the home going journey the next day. About one o ' clock in the morning I heard a terrible crash. I started up. The door of my tent was wide open and some terrific force threw me back in bed again. I was thoroughly frightened now. I made another try and was successful. The terrible force that hurled me back in bed again was — the wind. Just as I got to the entrance of my tent the wind gave a tremendous blow and the tent fell down on me. When I had man- aged to wriggle out of the mess, I staggered toward the rest of the tents. They were down too. After I had rescued my family from under the numerous tents, the hurricane had almost subsided. Was my family ready to go home ? I’ll give you three guesses. C. C., ' 31. Pals What is there in life more precious than the deep friendship that almost always exists between two young peo- ple during their school career. It is so seldom that one finds a person who can honestly say, ‘‘There has never been a sacred friendship in my life. I