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

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THE SCREECH OWL 13 FISHING A streak, a splash, The song of the reel. He’s away like a flash. What a glorious feel! What does every fisherman love ? A mild blue day ’neath the skies above. By a foam-capped hook in some shady nook. With a rod, a line, a fly, or a hook. A mellow pipe which he smokes serene. As he waits his luck on the bank so green. He does not always his basket fill. But what of that? He goes for the thrill. Fishing is really a royal game. And, take it from me, it’s not so tame. So if you want to keep your youth. Take up fishing, and that is the truth. And when a man is old and gray. He still has something to keep him gay. Though football glories are ever sung. Fishing’s the sport that will keep us young. — Albert W. Koch, ’39. ♦ ♦ BACK TO NATURE I’d rather lie on a fresh green bed Where the sun flits among the willow Sweet-scented grass beneath my head. And my cherished books for a pillow. On the green grass let me lie Amid the country’s peace To see the bigness of the sky. The land that Nature has for lease. I’d rather lie on my fresh green bed Than the softest bed of all And know that heaven has safely led And kept me from any evil that might befall. — Helen Smith, ’39. THE WEARY TRAVELER The day was hot and sultry as a lone figure trudged wearily down the lane. He was a tramp, no doubt, for his clothes were threadbare and worn. In his hand he car- ried a leather case which was badly battered. On and on he walked until he came to a sharp path to the left of the lane. Here he paused, turned, looked around, and then darted along the path to a large group of pine trees. A small brook danced merrily over its bed of small pebbles, often gleaming when some small ray of sunlight passed through the trees. Yes, peace was the word for it. Peace and quiet away from the hum of noisy streets and selfish people. Slowly, very slowly, the man leaned for- ward and drank the fresh pure water of the brook. He paused for breath and again he drank. Like some magic potion it revived him, — made him feel alive and rested. Opening his case, he took from it a violin which he placed carefully under his chin. Slowly he drew the bow across the strings, and soon music was floating over the bub- bling brook, over the tall pines, until it seemed that heaven was smiling down upon this secluded spot. Then the tempo changed, — sad and mourn- ful like some weary soul crying for help and consolation. Perhaps he was thinking of the past — reaching out to remember the lost dreams and hopes. Perhaps the memory of a beautiful wife and child, the exact image of her mother, lying still and quiet, never to speak or laugh again. On and on he played, unmindful of the passing time. The music stopped abruptly, and very carefully he placed the violin in the case. For a short moment he sat in deep thought. Then quietly he rose, picked up his case and hurried away, head high and eyes bright. A few more days, months, years — what did it matter? — For soon he would be with his loved ones. He would be home, never to be lonely or sad again. — Edward Donahue.

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12 THE SCREECH OWL discovered his unconscious partner and then pounced on him from out of the shack. In several minutes there was a great deal of noise as the two men scuffled in the dark- ness bumping into crates and boxes and sending them flying all over the place. Shitless was slowly losing way. He was too old for such rough handling. Just as he was on the verge of collapse, a light shown on them from the distance and Flannigan’s shrill whistle rang through the stillness. Shitless took to his feet and dashed around the crates. He heard someone follow, a shot, then a groan. His antagonist didn’t get away. Later, from a hiding place, for he knew every nook and crevice, he saw the police wagon arrive, and the two hoodlums were taken away. Shitless sighed in relief and curled up ready to retire for the night, for he dared not return to his shack, lest the police make further investigations and finjd him and lock him up for taking part in the brawl. Thus everything quieted down, and Shitless fell asleep on the once-more quiet dock. Several months elapsed, and Shitless had already forgotten the episode. He mentioned nothing to his friends, whom he saw but occasionally. He chuckled to himself when he thought of the incident, or by it he had gained a box of candles left by the hood- lums. Now, every night. Shitless looked at the pictures in the newspapers that he found on the dock and around the harbor. One night as he was looking at a new batch of newspapers, he picked one up and exclaimed, “Gosh darn, if that ain’t the man I un- hitched here in ma shack.” He drew nearer to the candle and stared at the picture of a man on the front page beneath which read in large print — MILLIONAIRE SEEKS TRAMP WHO SAVED HIM. Then in smaller print — J. J. STANLEY WILL GIVE $1000 AS REWARD TO THE MAN WHO RESCUED HIM FROM KIDNAP- PERS. MAN URGED TO IDENTIFY SELF. After gazing at it for several minutes, he said to himself, “I wonda why they’s got his pitcha in the paper.” Then interrupting his own thoughts, “Dang thet wind, it’s blown the paper outa the blasted crack.” Crumpling up the paper he was looking at, he pushed it into the crack, then went to bed. — Helen Smith, ’39. A FAREWELL TO SCHOOL LIFE They will never quite leave us, the friends we have passed A thousand sweet memories are holding them fast. The work which we leave and the books that we’ve read The songs that we’ve sung — dear words that we’ve said All these thoughts are forever encased In the haunting chords of memory chaste. In years to come we cannot speak with later friends Of those old times in school to which love lends Such clinging thoughts and mystic haze of soft regret Which we would not, if we could, forget The sweet enchanted sighs of bygone hours at Maynard High. — Helen Smith, ’39 THE EMOTIONLESS LOVER Early each morning by the old west gate she waited patiently for a passing glimpse of him. He was never there at the appointed time; so she went in search of him. As usual, in rain or shine she found him at his work. She stood gazing at him for a long, long time. How handsome he was! He was tall and straight; indeed he was a model if there ever was one. Very daintily she made her way over the fresh planted ground until she reached his side. She hoped she was beautiful, for this was the most important day in her life. She looked at him and gave a deep sigh — she always felt like this when she met him after a long day away from him. Very slowly she leaned forward and kissed him gently on the cheek. He never even turned his head or lifted his derby hat. She rested her head on his manly chest and then parted her lips, sending forth another heavy sigh. Suddenly she heard someone shout, “Betsy, get out of that field!” She looked around and there was farmer Brown standing over her and looking very angry. Could it be that he was jealous of her new-found love ? Oh, but she could never love anyone but him. Farmer Brown was very angry, so much so that he slapped her and spoke harshly to her. And real gentlemen never did or said such things to a lady. She expected her brave hero to come to her defence, but he stood there staring straight ahead. This was too much. She turned away broken-hearted and disillusioned, but never a w’ord of protest passed her lips, for she was just an old Guernsey cow and her lover an old scarecrow. — Edward Donahue, ’39.

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14 THE SCREECH OWL WHAT OUR TOWNSPEOPLE HAVE TO SAY TO US A Series of Interviews and Articles Obtained and Edited by Aaron Glickman. HOW TO OBTAIN A POSITION By Oswald C. Drechsler First, you must be qualified for the kind of a position you are seeking. Second, you must have several very good friends w ' ho are willing to introduce you to such persons who are employers of different firms or industries that employ help of vari- ous kinds. You should also contact such employment agencies that make business of placing men and women in jobs to which they are best adapted. Third, your record of the past must be of the best. You must be willing to work with the sun and not by the clock, be trustworthy at all times, as truth is above all things. Also, you must be neat and alert when mak- ing your appearance to your prospective employer. By giving him the impression that you are the young man that he should have in his firm, and that you are going to be an asset instead of a liability, you should have no difficulty in finding a position. To the Class of 1939 of Maynard High School: It gives me great pleasure to have the opportunity to say a word to you. While it must be conceded that the chance of immediate employment is not as good as in the years before the depression, it re- mains for you to find some method to fill in the time until you can be gainfully employed. Do not hesitate to accept any honest work that will tide you over until you find that for which you feel that you are fitted. Cultivate a hobby — it need not be expensive. Go to your Library and ask for books that will aid you in your endeavor, and we shall gladly obtain them for you. In no other country in the world could you have the advantages that you have right here. Our State and Nation are doing every- thing possible for the young people, in order that they may have every opportunity. You are masters of your own destiny. If you meet your problems with heads up, I am sure that you will be the victors. Keep God at your mast-head and the Stars and Stripes close by, and you will succeed. Sincerely yours, Mary E. Moynihan, Head Librarian, Maynard Library. THE LITERARY CAREER By Beatrice Parsons, Maynard News Despite romantic stories of young girl reporters, there is little chance of a girl, equipped with nothing more than the desire to write, making progress in the literary world unless she is properly trained. A course in journalism, or contact with news- paper requirements by way of an office posi- tion on a daily paper, will help her on her w ' ay. University Extension courses are eco- nomical and practical. Ability to use a type- writer is an important requirement. While there are many rules for the prepa- ration of manuscripts, there is only one for acquiring proficiency and ease of expression in writing — to write and write and write! Form the daily habit of sitting at your type- writer and expressing yourself on paper, even though you write but one paragraph. Feature stories, short articles and “spot ’ news, written for the newspapers, are ex- cellent practice for a more ambitious career. All material must be well written in a style acceptable to the editor. The “pulp” maga- zines are kind to the new writer, and many authors have started by submitting stories to them. The “slick” magazines, however, are almost impossible to “crash” without a literary agent. A literary career is a long, hard, often discouraging climb, and while many start, comparatively few persevere and reach the top. If you write with facility, and would rather write than eat, then, by all means, write! It is at once as simple and as difficult as that. ADVICE TO GRADUATES By the Reverend Matthew A. Vance First of all . . . this is not advice. . . . This is observation of experience. You have a perfect right to disagree with it if your observation is better and more complete. I give you my observations simply and direct. Examine yourself at graduation. Are you educated in the real sense or are you re- ceiving a diploma? Can you think through problems, and come to honest conclusions ? Have you developed mental habits that lead into further study, appreciation, and cul-