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

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12 THE SCREECH OWL Pursue them dear teacher, have pity on me. I can’t pass my lessons on only a “D”. Edith France, ’31. THE NOBLE RESOLVE Uncle was a chronic grouch. There was no doubt about it. Uncle was a grouch. Even his nephew, upon whose defenseless head was falling the brunt of Uncle’s wrath, conceded this. “No”. Uncle’s decisive bark cut the silence of the room. “I can’t let you have any more money. This foolish talk of setting up a radio shop, rub- bish!” “Very well, uncle,” answered his nephew in a hopeless voice, “I’ll go to the law school, but I’m telling you now, that I won’t be the success you want me to be because my interests are in the radio and electrical works, and that’s — ” “That’ll do.” Uncle frowned. “You’ll get a good education, be ad- mitted to the bar, and I’ll set up a practice for you in town here. That’s the future I’ve set my heart on for my brother’s boy!” “Well, if you change your mind, you can find me at the University. I leave tonight. Good-bye, Uncle,” and James Lowell, nephew of old Judge Lowell, strolled out of the office. It was three o’clock in the morning, but the Judge had not danced the whole night long, on the contrary, he had played poker. The Judge was feeling in as good humor as a chronic grouch who was $5,000 to the good could be. It was then, in this most amiable frame of mind, that he en- tered his domain. All was quiet. Everyone had gone to bed, but just as he was about to place in his desk, all the night’s hard earned winnings, an uneasy thought struck him. The Judge wanted to use that money; in fact he planned on going to another poker game where the stakes were bound to be high, so he decided to look for a place in which to hide it so that his wife Martha could not find it. With this in mind, he instantly dis- carded the desk as a hiding place, for Martha was always looking for re- cipes, old bills, etc., in the desk. The Judge put in a few minutes serious concentration, then his face lighted up. Selecting an envelope, he wrote his nephew’s name on it. Then he put it in his coat pocket. “Guess Martha won’t bother to look in my old coat pocket for money,” he chuckled, “and if she does, she won’t be likely to open a letter that is going to James!” Thus, well pleased with this brilliant piece of work, he re- tired. Jane Ann walked down the street. On her face was a thoughtful look, in her soul THE NOBLE RESOLVE. To the ordinary individual, she looked like an average red-headed, freckle- faced, serious eyed girl of ten years, but to those who knew her, she showed signs of inner perturbation. As a matter of fact, something was preying on her mind. She had just heard a lecture at the school, and it had impressed her mightily. The lec- turer had exhorted his listeners to do a good deed, and so spread sunshine. This Jane Ann decided, was good pol- icy, and she determined to try it. “Uncle will like me to help,” she decided. “I guess I’ll help him and Aunt Martha all I can. I’ll help Jimmie too,” she declared in a burst of enthusiasm. “I’ll clean out the clothes closet.” Upon arriving home, she found the house deserted. Aunt Martha was out, probably on the trail of new gossip, so there was none to discourage her. With all the zest of new-found en- thusiasm, she tackled the old clothes closet. As she took down old dresses of her aunt, she put them aside ; they would serve as gowns to be worn when she and her friends played “house”. When she came to her uncle’s garments, she carefully ex- plored them so that she could gather up all the booty, consisting of cop-

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THE SCREECH OWL 11 “Barney,” cried the man. “Boy, I haven’t seen you for years. How are you, old man ?” He was on the running board pumping Barney’s hand. “Bud!” was all that Barney could say — possibly the surprise forced it out. Bud could and did talk steadily for a time — told Barney that he had risen in the world, that he was leader of a popular band which played nightly at the Colonial Grill. “Why don’t you come to my apart- ment now, Barney? Then you’ll come to the Grill tonight and hear the boys play. Oh, come on.” So Barney left the truck and followed his friend to the taxi. That night found him at the Grill in a borrowed dress-suit, watch- ing Bud lead his band. It came time to broadcast; everything was made ready and finally they were on the air. Their soloist, a tenor, hadn’t ar- rived. Bud became more and more nervous — the proprietor began to tear his hair. Poor Bud racked his brain; suddenly he remembered that Barney used to sing. He implored him to take the tenor’s place — he in- sisted, and finally ordered Barney to stand up before the mike and sing. Barney stood up, and finally he sang. Then, the song finished, he sat down. That wasn’t the end of it; telephone calls and telegrams kept coming in from the studio and direct to the Grill. Bud was overjoyed — Barney didn’t understand it all. But at the end of the year Barney Fallon had crooned his way into the hearts of both his country-women and his country-men — his name was known all over the nation, and yet no one knew anything of his life. Neverthe- less, Barney Fallon was receiving only two hundred dollars a week as salary. Early in April, Maud Allan was sent by her editor to get some sort of an interview with Barney. Maud was thrilled at the prospect. She knew many others had tried and failed, so she was prepared for a long, hard struggle. Next evening found her at the studio waiting for the idol of the nation to finish broadcasting. Barney used a different exit. Maud waited at the studio night after night, but Barney always escaped. She de- cided that it was getting her no- where and so the next evening when Barney entered his apartment Miss Allan was there. Barney went down the fire escape ; Maud called to him to come back, but in vain. Next day when Bud came in to see his friend, Barney was mournfully re- garding an official letter from the studio. “What’s the matter this fair morn- ing,” asked Bud jovially. “Look,” said Barney, for brevity was still the keynote of his speech. “I can’t do it.” Bud looked — then spoke. “Why of course you can do it. All you have to do is meet Miss Allan at the studio and take her out to dinner. It’ll be easy — you won’t have to do anything except answer questions. Oh, you’ll get through it all right.” Barney took Miss Allan out to dinner. Now Maud Allan was very wise ; she was breathless at the honor — very obviously so — and under her admiration, Barney became loqua- cious. He found himself thinking what a wonderful girl Maud was ; he asked her out to dinner again. Barney saw more and more of her and began to feel more and more important. A few months later Maud and he were married. And now Barney Fallon’s salary runs to four figures. He has his pet announcer and his tempera- ment. But he still makes one word do for three or four. Edith Priest, ’32. REPORT CARDS ’Twas the day for reports cards, and down on my knees, I hunted in vain for the “A’s” and the “B’s”; Not a good rank was on it, not even a “C” ; The marks were off duty. Oh ! Where did they flee ?

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THE SCREECH OWL 13 pers, two or three nickels, and per- haps a dime which the Judge had placed in his pockets and then for- gotten. In due time she had gathered about eighteen cents in change, two or three old bills, a letter or two, and one letter which bore her brother’s name on it. There seemed to be no stamp, so she took two cents of loot and put them aside. After she had cleaned the closet out, she turned her steps toward the post-office. A few weeks later, the Judge re- ceived an invitation to a poker game to be held in the house of a friend. He accepted with pleasure, and left the office early that evening in order to be on time. As soon as he arrived in the house, he hunted up his old coat. He searched every pocket and hole but no sign of a letter could he find. The Judge decided this was getting serious. Accordingly, as a man will do, he yelled for his wife. “Hey Martha, did you see an envel- ope addressed to James?” he inquired. “No,” his wife answered, “Where did you put it ?” “In my old coat,” answered the Judge. A sudden stir arose from the living room. “I mailed it,” said the young cheer- spreader coming to the rescue from an arithmetic problem in the living room’s best chair. “What!!” The Judge presented a picture of outraged dignity. “Well I’ll be doggoned ! Confound these women ! !” With a muttered curse, the Judge vanished from sight, his coat- tails streaming in the breeze. Safe in the sheltered haven of his office, he opened a telegram. MANY THANKS HAVE SUC- CEEDED IN RADIO VENTURE PAYING WELL. JAMES LOWELL. With a morose expression on his face, the grouch threw up his hands. Doggone the poker game, his expres- sion seemed to say as he permitted a wry grin to twist his features, when one has a nephew who is bound to suc- ceed, well, it’s an ill wind that doesn’t blow somebody good ! Annie L. White, ’81. DINNER WITH SIR THOMAS The other day, while visiting with Sir Thomas in Boston, he invited me out to dinner along with a few of his business associates. We had finished our first course and we were patiently waiting for our waitress to bring us some lobster. I meanwhile was chat- ting with Sir Thomas and his friends. These gentlemen were very interest- ing company and during our conver- sation we gave our opinions on the various subjects of the day. During this time I had also ob- served many of the people about me. I noticed a waiter seating some ladies a couple of tables away, and as the young ladies looked over their menu the gentlemen closely observed their features and winked at one another. After the ladies had ordered their food they both lit up cigarettes. Not being a frequent visitor to the city restaurants, I found it hard to refrain from staring at the two as they non- chalantly exhaled smoke from their nostrils. To keep my mind occupied at the table I asked Sir Thomas what he thought of women’s smoking. This started the ball rolling, and we soon had an interesting discussion on the subject. I have discovered in the past that no subject interests men more than those pertaining to our modern women. Sir Thomas said that the only thing that the women hadn ' t tried to do was to raise a beard, and he added that he expected anytime to see his daughter invent a way of cultivating one. Mr. Keith, a theatre manager, now began a lively talk. He stated that so long as the men indulged in smoking, it was hardly fair to expect the women folk to refrain from it. In concluding he said that personally he saw no harm in their smoking if they received any pleasure from it.