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

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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.

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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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14 THE SCREECH OWL Mr. Harding, an old bachelor who was also visiting with Sir Thomas, made the remark that the more he came to Boston and saw examples of the modern women, the better he en- joyed the company of his dogs up Maine. This brought laughter from the whole company including the sedate Mr. Woodcock who now offered his opinion on the subject. Mr. Woodcock is a lawyer of the city who is held very much in the esteem of his friends. He seldom spoke but when he did speak all lis- tened intently. Mr. Woodcock said that he considered that smoking among women distinctly showed the degeneracy of the female individual, and he classed it as nothing more than utter vulgarity. He added that although he himself smoked, he could see no sensible reason why the women should adopt the bad habits of the men. After further discussion all agreed with him, and Mr. Keith said that the best way in which to stop the practice was for men in general to make known their disapproval. We now saw our waitress appear- ing with our lobster and soon all were masticating it eagerly. As I was eating I could not help thinking of our future mothers telling their children to be refined and dignified, while they, with their next breath, blew out a cloud of tobacco smoke. I think that as soon as women discover that they are less respected and ad- mired on account of this practice, they will give it up. For it is one of women’s foremost desires to appear well before gentlemen. S. McCleary, ’32. LAMENT You stupid, you stubborn thing. Why don ' t you try to help me — if only to please — tho’ it be painful to you. You — you on whom I spent my hard-earned money to make you my own — and squandered my last prec- ious pennies to buy you gay ribbons. How often I brushed and cleaned you until my fingers were worn almost to the bone. Never will I forget the times I carried you about in my arms and then dropped, exhausted, with my whole body aching, into the first place of rest. I’ll ne’er forget the nights when I put on your night-cap, and with a sigh of happiness left you — to dream of the morrow when I would again be with you. How many times have you caused my heart to ache with your cruelty, and have wrung the tears from my dimming eyes. To think that from my temple I once plucked a hair of silver — put there by you. But alas and alack, howe’er sad, ’tis true — even your dearest ones go back on you — refuse to help you in the darkest moments of life. But soon I shall leave you. Out into the world I shall go to earn my liv- ing; and there perchance I will meet others of your kind. But, ah, I pray they will not be as unkind and as ob- stinate as you. But what more can I expect of a Remington No. 10 typewriter? Sirkka Lehtinen, ’31. WHAT I WOULD HAVE DONE AS ELAINE I Lancelot, knight of the Table Round, Was loved by Elaine the fair, And because her love was not re- turned, Elaine gave up in despair. II She went to her lonely tower, And for many a day she staid, Singing the song of Love and Death, Refusing comfort and aid. III And one bright golden morning Of a beautiful summer day, Elaine, the fair, the lily-maid, In silence passed away.