Milford High School - Oak Lily and Ivy Yearbook (Milford, MA)

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OAK, LILY AND IVY. 11 volunteered a word until, finally,the stout gentleman remarked with some asperity, as he gazed at the back of the chauffeur’s head, sunk deep in his coat collar: “Well, why doesn’t somebody suggest something?” His question received no immediate answer—only a weary and tearful sigh from his wife, and a half-suppressed giggle from his daughter. Again silence prevailed, broken, at last, by the boy, with a solemnity befitting the occasion, but with a roguish twinkle lurking in the depths of his laughing brown eyes : “The cookies won’t last more than a week, will they, mother? Say, dad, I bet this water’s great for rheumatism !” “He thinks he’s so witty and amusing!” remarked his sister, sarcastically. “Mother, will you make him behave? He’ll surely fall off.” For the boy, by this time, had left his place by the driver and had crawled out onto the hood and, fiat on his stomach, was gazing into the stream, “to see if there were any fish he could catch for dinner.” Just then everyone in the car was startled by an uproarious burst of laughter. There on the bank, facing them, stood three of the blackest and raggedest negroes imaginable. They were doubled over with spasms of uncontrollable mirth at the amusing spectacle afforded them of an automobile helpless in the middle of the river. To the loud and appealing calls for help sent over the water to them they gave no heed and in consequence, the stout gentleman grew more and more vexed; his wife more and more amused; and the chauffeur more and more glum. But the boy, irrespressible as usual, came to the rescue. He called to those “darkies” on the shore : “Say, you fellows, the show’s over. Now, hustle ! Get your mules and tow us ashore.” Strangely enough, the peremptory command issued by a small boy was obeyed. The mules were brought, hitched to a quickly improvised raft, and sent out to the car. But when they reached it they snorted and plunged and backed, splashing the waiting passengers with water. The driver, at length, quieted them ; the raft was brought alongside the machine, and very cautiously and laboriously the stout gentleman clambered over the side of the car and deposited himself on one corner of the raft, which dipped so alarmingly that he hastened to crawl over toward the center. One by one the other members of the party carefully got aboard the uncertain craft aud, clutching one another desperately, managed to keep their balance while they were towed ashore. Then, back went the mules to the rescue of the automobile, which, with a final mighty heave, rolled majestical¬ ly to the bank. After receiving slight medical aid, it was able to resume its interrupted duties and, amid the cheers of the negroes gathered to watch the proceedings, each of whom clutched a silver dollar in his dirty black hand, it started once more on its journey south with its occupants, disgusted with life in general and with automobiling under such conditions in particular,—all except the small boy. Turning to his mother, he begged, “Mother, give me a cooky, please, I’m near¬ ly starved after all that. You ought to feed the hero of the day, for you’d have been there yet if it hadn’t been for me.” ’i i.

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IO OAK, LILY AND IVY. gone as it had come, to the sound of music. No longer can I see the turrets of King Arthur’s palace, gleaming in the sunshine; no longer, the group of happy, young knights, fighting in mock battle; no longer the mystic gate, sustained on the outstretched arms of the Lady of the Lake. Before me, dotted here and there with fleecy sheep and crossed by a little stream dancing in the sunshine, lie the plains outside my own home town—above my head floats a feathery white cloud in whose depths I seem once more to see the enchanted city of Cam- elot, built by the magic hand of Merlin—mystic, wonderful. Slowly I leave the scene of my day-dream, and as I go I hear, ringing in my ears, the words of Arthur to his last-left knight, Sir Bedivere : “The old order changeth, yielding place to new, And God fulfills himself in many ways, Lest one good custom should corrupt the world.” John Dalton, ’ii. A RIDE ON A RAFT. In many ways a southern trip in an automobile is delightful, but unfortunate¬ ly, its disadvantages are equally great. Perhaps the greatest of them are the streams and small rivers which must be forded. Seldom can a bridge be found at the opportune moment for crossing. Often these streams are so deep that horses must swim across and wagons be left behind on the shore. It was to such a stream that a party of five weary travellers came one sunny afternoon. They had been journeying since early morning over very rough roads and now, tired out, were endeavoring to reach some inn where they could spend the night. The nearest bridge was fifteen miles away, and although the water looked cold and uninviting, time was precious. As the only alternative to ford¬ ing the stream here was to travel many more unnecessary miles, the car, with its occupants, plunged gallantly into the water. Slowly and painfully it struggled into the middle of the stream ; the water splashed and foamed around it, occasion - ally wetting the people huddled in the tonneau. Then, with an apologetic cough and a snort of disgust, the machine stopped, leaving the travellers alarmed and bewildered as to what Fate would do next. Investigation showed that the car¬ burettor was responsible for the trouble. The party consisted of a stout gentleman no longer young, with a decided taste for the comforts of home; his wife, to whom water as a means of transport¬ ation was extremely distasteful; a young girl, his daughter, who declared most emphatically that “fording streams becomes monotonous after one has crossed a few hundred;” a small boy, with a small boy’s usual delight in anything that promises adventure; and, lastly, that most necessary and long-suffering mortal— the chauffeur. Now here they all sat gazing helplessly at one another, but no one

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OAK, LILY AND IVY. School Iftotes. Rhetoricals. On Dec. 14th, Miss Walclmeyer’s division rendered the following selections: “The Constitutional Convention of 1787,” John Moore; “The Reign of Na¬ poleon,” Luigi DePasquale; “Good Nature,” Francis Nealon; “Hiawatha’s Sailing,” Olive Whittemore; “The Birth of the New South,” John Mahoney; “What is Liberty,” Albert Sweet; “Washington to His Soldiers,” Francis Quinlan; “The Roll Call,” Frank Ranahan; “Farewell to the Old Senate Chamber,” Clifton Smith; “The Pilot’s Story,” Blanche McCarthy. Dec. 21, Principal Clarke’s division. “The Wounded Soldier,” Ruth Miett; “How Girls Study,” Violet Warley; “The Unbolted Door,” Alice Spencer; “The Invisible Heroes,” Beatrice Turner; “True and False Glory,” Fred Goucher; “Trick vs. Trick,” Isabel Sherman; “The Runaway Boy,” Jessie Whitney; “The Shipwreck,” Hilda Williams; “Grandfather’s Barn,” Adelaide Withered; “Cheerfulness,” Francis Welch. By the time this number reaches our readers will have taken place. Those chosen were : Bernard Manion ’10 Thom as Quirk ’10 Luigi DePasquale ’10 Fred Harrington ’n Francis Welch ’12 our first prize speaking contest Helen Hutton ’10 Ruth Miett ’11 Alice Spencer T1 Violet Warley ’12 Sara Haskard ’12 Great interest has been shown in this contest both by the pupils of the school and by outsiders and each contestant has striven hard to secure the covet¬ ed gold medal which goes to the winner. On February 8th, the Senior class will present the farce, “Her Busy Day,” in the Assembly Hall. Their first attempt at dramatics was a success in every way, and we are con¬ fident that their second endeavor will bring forth a large gathering to greet them in their respective roles. “Her Busy Day” is much more humorous than “A Cyclone for a Cent,” and requires twice as many characters. As this is a school production we feel that we can call upon the school for a full share of support. Those included in the cast are: Mabel Jackman, Josephine YVestphal, Agnes O’Keefe, Laura Bigwood, Helen Hutton, Frank Comba, Bernard Manion, James Luchini, Luigi DePasquale, Stephen Archer, Raymond Dunphy and William Rosen.