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

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12 THE SCREECH OWL tered Bob. “If I tried to swim I’d most likely be disqualified before I reached the first turn for not being able to keep in my lane. I don’t want to join the team, have the school count on me, and then be a hopeless failure. Fd rather not swim at all.” Even though Bob refused to swim in competition with others, his love for the water was still in him. In spite of his insistence that he would never race again, he crept into the deserted gym one night to swim for his own enjoy- ment. As he cut the water in a clean, rip- pling dive and took his first long, power- ful strokes, he became conscious that he was not alone. “You seem to be a good swimmer,” he heard a voice say, “Let me see how fast you are.” Unable to see the speaker Bob re- turned and fumbled for his glasses. “Why, aren’t you Ralph Hardy, the captain of the swimming team?” “Yes, and you’re Bo b Rider. I recognized you from the pictures taken when you won the four hundred meter race at Amherst. Why haven’t you tried out for our team?” “You’ve just seen the reason,” re- turned Bob bitterly, “I couldn’t even see you without my glasses. How do you expect me to swim without them? I’ve had scarlet fever since I won at Amherst and I can’t see five feet in front of me without glasses.” “Tell me something. How often have you swum since you were ill?” “Why, I haven’t tried at all. I can’t even see.” “Forget cl at. The trouble with you is that yo Fre afraid to try, not that you cannot s m. I’ll get at the other side of the ol and you swim down this lane toward me. When I yell, begin to feel your way on the turn. You should be able to do it soon without using your- eyes at all. Ready? Start!” A slight ripple of the water and Bob was off, started on the swim that meant so much to him. Churning the water easily he heard the cry “Turn,” stabbed out with both hands, flipped over in a half arc, and was away on the return stretch. Inspired by the knowledge that he could really swim again, he increased his pace, taking the turns more easily every time until he reached the last stretch, where he sprinted. As he reached the finish he was hauled out by an exultant Ralph Hardy. “Only six seconds slower than your prep school record. The team is saved, and boy! will we trounce Tech!” Roy Lent ’35 Whoo-oooo-ooooo I’ve been here a-thinking, a-racking my brain A-trying to write, but it all seems in vain, What is a good subject? On what shall I write? Of school? Of the Spring? What will come of my plight! Then all of a sudden, right out of the night There came to me out of the darkness, the light! Of course! What subject could better be chosen Than the one at this moment that you have your nose in? And yet there’s so much to be said in its favor Thoughts of writing it down simply cause me to waver, For a real full-fledged poet a task would it be One could fill a large volume in “laude” of it. See! For a book of its age, not yet in its teens It’s the head of its class, I’d say, by all means. It hoots it own praise. You’ll agree it’s a howl! Come now, three cheers! Hurrah for the “Screech Owl ” Irene Lemoine, ’36.

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THE SCREECH OWL 11 sight of Hans gave way to pleas of “Save him ! Save him!” Hans was not a good swimmer, but a human life was at stake, and the fear that he would be too late gave him speed. Though in reality it did not take very long, to Hans and the terrified boys it seemed hours before he reached the now sinking form. Then Hans saw the lad’s face — it was Tommy Jones! For a moment the idea of getting his revenge excited Hans. How easy it would be to let the boy drown! He could say he had done his best; he was not a good swimmer anyway. But there arose before Hans’ eyes the picture of a grief-stricken mother, and, almost ex- hausted, he turned to bring in the boy. He had to fight every inch of the way. He became so weary that he would have willingly given up; but the encouraging cries of the boys urged him on. Finally, when it seemed that he could force him- self no further, his feet reached bottom, and many small hands relieved Hans of the burden of the unconscious boy. Hans went home, ate his supper, and was preparing for bed, when he heard the sound of voices growing louder and louder. Going to the door he saw a large crowd of townspeople approach- ing. When they saw Hans they cheered enthusiastically. The men carried Hans on their shoulders, and everyone wanted to shake his hand. Hans was a hero. From this day on the attitude of the people changed toward Hans. There were always friendly greetings for him, for it had been discovered how kind and unselfish he really was. The children grew to love him, and that pleased Hans more than anything else. Now it is nothing unusual for a group of small boys and girls to come to him, pleading, “Tell us a story, Hans.” Hans always sits down, children all around him, and tells in his quaint broken English a story of his own Sweden. Elmer Salenius, ’35. GLASSES AND SWIMMING MIX “My boy, I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but your eyes have been seriously strained by the scarlet fever, and you will be forced to wear thick- lensed blasses,” Dr. Johnson solemnly advised. “Glasses! Why that will mean the end of my swimming career! With glasses I won’t be able to see at all in the water,” maoned Bob Rider, the prep school four hundred meter swimming champion. “I know, Bob, but without the glasses you will soon be unable to see at all. I advise you to give up swimming entirely for the next few years.” This was a cruel blow to Bob’s plans, for he had hoped to become a member of the Harver College swimming team, and, with the needed competition thus obtained, to become a national figure in aquatic sports. This love of the water, however, had caused his downfall. In order to keep in practice he had in- advertently swum in polluted water and became ill with that scourge of all swimmers, scarlet fever. After many weeks in bed he was finally told the bad news. No v he would have to wear glasses and so be unable to achieve his greatest desire, to become a member of the Harver swim- ming team. With eyes too weak to see without glasses, and of course, unable to see with water-fogged lenses, he would have to give up his attempt to gain a birth on the swimming team, to which, as a prep school champion, he was expected to give all his efforts and so make the Harver team one of the great- est in many years. “I won’t give up going to college, though,” mused Bob, “and I won’t go around telling my troubles. If the students can’t make friends with me when I don’t try for the team, they needn’t make friends at all.” So Bob went to Harver College, re- fusing to tell of his illness, scorned by many of his classmates for not joining the swimming team and helping it to achieve a successful season. The team was strong and well balanced in all but the two and four hundred meter swims, and with Bob Rider to fill these gaps the team could not help but become the new conference champion. “I don’t care what they say,” mut-

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Helen Aho “When on life’s highway, always GO RIGHT.” Helen entered high school with one ambition and that was, to become a “stenog.” By the way she handles that dictaphone, she certainly will get along well. Helen is learning to drive her Ford, and as yet she has never hit a tree. Good luck, Helen. Josephine Alexander “By the firelight’s fitful gleaming I am dreaming, ever dreaming.” Glee Club (1), (2). Of course we are not present when Josephine dreams, but we suspect she dreams about flowers, birds, fairies, fauns, and see-saws. Josephine, like Rupert Brooke, has the rare gift of enjoying the simple things in life; thus she is sure to be happy. Veronica Arciszewski “Love your neighbors, they all love you.” Does Verony love to dance? We notice she is always very popular. For the past year she has seemed very quiet. When questioned about it, she frowns, then smiles, and finally sighs. Oh well, maybe a certain somebody from Waltham made her like that. Theodore Bachrach “Kind hearts are more than coronets.” Football team (4). “Backy” is rather serious and business-like in all he does — a good man to have around when there’s something to be done. He has his off moments, however, as is shown by his essay entitled “An Appreciation of Pigs,” and his Sophomoric leaning. Sophie Batulin “Attempt the end, and never doubt; Nothing’s so hard but searching will find it out.” Interclass Field Hockey; (1), (2), (3), (4), Basketball (1), (2), (3), (4). She came, she saw, she conquered. Sophie takes her work seriously, so not much is heard from her. Just look at her marks and you know she is present.