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

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THE SCREECH OWL 13 be: “What shall I make of myself?” Every one of the young people enter- ing the higher schools has a desire to follow some particular business or art for his life work; therefore he must, in order to accomplish his purpose, learn everything that is in some way connected with that work. This, how- ever, is a problem which remains un- solved in the minds of the majority of high school students. Even on the night of graduation, many seniors are undecided as to their plans for the future. Some are waiting for some fortunate opportunity to present it- self; others go into any work at all, hoping to learn and become efficient in that work, the thing that they should have done before; and still others sit aside and watch the world go ' round, without realizing that their many years of school life have gone for naught. Therefore, to those who are begin- ning their high school careers, let this be said: “In order to succeed despite the many obstacles, set a goal for yourself and try to answer suc- cessfully that question vital to suc- cess, ' What shall I make of myself ” ? W. Frigard, ' 30. JOHN It was the day before the New Year ' s Social, and a teacher in the front of the room could see many different expressions on the faces of the students. In one aisle, in the back seat, sat John Wimple. His face had a look of conceit and satisfaction. Upon looking into his mind, we would find that he had his attention on the girl five seats ahead of him. He was sure she would go to the social with her. Three seats ahead sat John Andrews whose face had a rather perplexed expression, for he was trying to puzzle out a way of asking the very same girl, Jane Stewart by name, to the social. His bashfulness was almost overcoming his desire. Jane Stewart, the center of interest to the two boys, was also wondering who would ask her to the party. She preferred John Andrews, but he was so shy that she might just as well have wanted the moon. There were five more minutes of school, when John Andrews felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around and John Wimple was handing him a note. “Would you give this to Jane for me? I have to stay after school.” John said he would, and after school he hastily handed Jane the note. His shyness made him take quick leave of her. She watched him disappear and heaved a sigh. Then she read the note, and her face beamed with joy. It would seem ages till recess of the next day. Finally that time arrived, and John Wimple and John Andrews were standing in the school yard. The former had been telling the other that he was taking Jane to the social. In a few minutes Jane came run- ning up to them. She faced John Andrews and said, “Oh, I ' m so glad you wanted me to go with you to- night. Of course I will.” He did not know what to say or do. He had not asked her to go, but if she was asking him that was all right ; so he said, “I ' ll come around for you at eight.” John Wimple could not understand this. Hadn ' t he asked her to go. But on rereading his note he would have found he had only put down the sig- nature “John”. Harold R. Wilcox, ' 30. A SKETCH— INDEPENDENCE They were brothers — bachelors. They had lived together many years. But one day a change came, a start- ling change. One renounced his celi- bacy. He married a good cook. The other was left alone; alone to live in the room they had shared to- gether; alone to spend his declining years.

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12 THE SCREECH OWL “What! thou woulds’t overlook thy studies for athletics? True, that is a crime I can never pardon. I will re- port thy misbehavior to our beloved principal !” Indignantly he strode towards the head master’s office and rapped severely on the door. When, after many frantic knocks, he received no answer, he rushed frantically around the building tearing his hair. Ten, twenty, thirty minutes, but no prin- cipal. Meanwhile the honorable students were raising the roof in the class- room, and great delight was ex- pressed when the passing moments brought no professor. As a last re- sort, the aforesaid pedant retreated to the gymnasium, where a rapid succession of knocks had attracted his attention. Much to our dear pro- fessor’s amazement, he found the head master clad in orange and black attire, shooting baskets from all four corners of the gymnasium. Our weak-kneed professor could but drag himself back to the class- room where he was forced to over- look the pupils’ neglect. G. Garland, ’30. AMBITIONS We all have our ambitions Mother, Susie, Pa, and Ted, And suffer inhibitions And are dizzy in the head. Mother’s sole and only reason For living till this day Is to beat old Mrs. Gleason In chasing pounds away. Susie prinks and curls and fusses And is always on the go, She fumes and raves and rushes To win her friend’s best beau. The aim that father treasures Is easy ’nuff to guess, The chief of all imaginal pleasures, To beat Si Parks at chess. You don’t get to aspiration Until you come to Ted. He longs for admiration For standing on his head. My wish I soon can mention ; It’s easy in the main. It’s to chuck old darn convention And walk bare headed in the rain. Ma says, “Why child, you’re nutty ! Can that talk and listen here. The rain will soak you into putty And pour into your ear.” Though all are rather busy In one thing they agree That one of us is crazy, And that one must be me. Everywhere there’s compensation And I have found it true; So you may think of others What others think of you. WHAT SHALL I MAKE OF MYSELF? Ambition — defined by Webster as “a consuming desire to achieve some object or purpose” — is a quality which every student of any high school should possess. If anyone has that characteristic, he will set a goal for which to strive; then he will do all in his power to attain that goal and reach the pinnacle of success. Despite this fact, ambition doesn’t necessarily mean that one must have a desire to achieve only one purpose and let all other things go. In these modern times when there is such great competition for all positions in every trade or work, a person must be able to do many things fairly well. In other words, one must be a “jack-of- all-trades.” A new-comer in any busi- ness or art finds it difficult to be a success because of the fact that there are so many trying for a small num- ber of desirable positions. The first question, and the most vital question which should be in the mind of a person beginning to prepare himself for the work of life, should

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14 THE SCREECH OWL Yet his heart was gay. He had something the other had not. He sent his brother a handsome parrot swing- ing in a gilded cage. Not free to wander was that parrot, but hamp- ered, checked, restrained on every side. The irony of marriage! Wieno Sneck, ’30. WAITING AT THE CHURCH The Carson household was in a tumult. In fact, this precise family had never before been so disrupted. They moved about with despair on their faces. And all because Nora, the cook, was going to marry Patrol- man Casey and leave the Carson household. This in itself might have been a minor detail to some but to the Carson household it was an acute tragedy. Nora was “E Pluribus Unum.” Never had there been a cook like Nora. And her apple pies — m-m- m — . “We simply must do something about this drastic situation,” mur- mured Mr. Carson. “We’ll raise her pay,” suggested Johnny Carson. “We’ve already tried that,” sighed his sister. “We’ve got to do something,” snapped Mrs. Carson. “We’ll each adjourn to a separate room and think for half an hour,” de- cided Mr. Carson, “then we’ll come back here and discuss our plans.” Thirty minutes later found them again in the library. “I can’t think of a thing,” sighed Johnny. “Neither can I,” said his sister. “I’m as bad as the children,” said Mrs. Carson. “It would seem,” said Mr. Carson with asperity, “that, as usual, I must do all the thinking for this family. Well, I’ve thought of a plan and if I do say so I think it is a wonder; in fact, it cannot fail. Owing to my ability as a plan maker, we will still have a cook. Now listen. We’ll let everything go until the wedding, to- morrow. At the moment that Patrol- man Casey arrives, I’ll have Johnny run in with a note, supposedly from the chief, saying that a murder had been committed and for Casey to come right over. His sense of duty is so strong that he’ll put the wedding ahead for an hour and leave for head- quarters. Nora will arrive and I’ll tell her that Casey had to go to the sta- tion to answer a hurry call from the chief. Knowing Nora as I do, I feel assured that she’ll be so mad at be- ing kept waiting at the church that she’ll naturally give Casey the go-by. Now, how’s that for a plan?” “I think it’s terrible,” exclaimed his wife, “but we must keep Nora.” The next day found Mrs. Carson at the church standing beside Patrolman Casey, once the pride of the force, but now a very much shaken and worried man. Mr. Carson and the family were also present. Johnny Carson was seen running toward them with a very ex- cited expression on his face. He had a note in his hand, but, instead of handing it to Casey, he gave it to his father. “I believe this is for Patrolman Casey, isn’t it?” asked his father quickly. “No, for you, — ” this with a sem- blance of suppressed mirth. Mr. Carson adjusted his glasses, opened the note, and proceeded to read. Then his jaw slowly dropped, he reddened and coughed his embar- assment. “Well, I’ll be — ” he was heard to mutter. “What does it say?” anxiously in- quired his wife. Mr. Carson looked at the crowd, swallowed hard, and read: “I have eloped with the janitor. Nora.” John Horan, ’30.