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

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OAK, LILY AND IVY. n Rose had gone into the house again, and left him alone, for the first time in his whole life. Anyhow, he guessed when a fellow’s big brother was coming, no one cared for little boys. So he decided that, to get even with them, for Bobbie was a little cross now, he would go to the village to see Santa Claus, and tell him not to forget Jack. Rose had said that Santa was coming to her house, and he knew he could find that, just as easy as anything, for hadn’t he been there with Rose two whole times? But now he had walked forever, he guessed, and all he had seen was snow, and he was cold, and tired, and hungry, and he thought he was going to cry, and he did want Daddy and mother so. So he sank down in a little pile of snow, and little by little his head drooped, and soon he was fast asleep. It was just at dusk, and from over the snow-covered fields, the sound of jingle- ing sleigh bells rang out. Nearer and nearer they came, until, speeding through the snow, a light sleigh drove around a turn in the woods. From it, the sound of a young man’s hearty laugh sounded, as if in answer to the conversation of his companion. But suddenly it ceased, and with a half-suppressed exclamation, he sprang out of the sleigh, and hurried toward a dark object, lying in the snow, it was little Bobbie, now unconscious with the cold. He was carried to the sleigh, and off they went, toward the big house where Bobbie lived. When he opened his eyes he was lying in his mother’s lap, and Daddy was on his knees before him, tenderly rubbing his hands, while on the other side stood a tall, young man. For a minute he tried to think who they were,then with a crv, he sat up. “Oh, mother, it’s Jack, it’s Jack, and Santa doesn’t know lie’s here.” And then he told them why he had run away. But after a while Bobbie pondered, then he rushed into the nursery to get his gun, that Daddy had given him just a while ago, so Jack wouldn’t be disappointed, but at the threshhold he stopped short, for just inside the door, laughing at his astonished face, stood Santa Claus, and be¬ hind him, was a Christmas tree, reaching clear to the ceiling in a blaze of lighted candles. H.M.E. ’13. The Oak, Lily and Ivy wishes everyone a sincere, though belated, Happy New Year. Unfortunately, it is impossible for happiness to come through mere wish¬ ing. Otherwise, by our wish the supremest happiness would be found here. It can be attained only by persistent striving on the part of each one. ()ur New Year wish for you, heartfelt though it is, can have little value to you, except as a token of our desire for your happiness, unless you will work for happiness for your¬ selves. You realize, all of you, the many possibilities in a new year; you know it to be the time when you hold up a mirror and look face to face with yoursell . ou

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IO OAK, LILY AND IVY. Suddenly summoning up courage he hurled himself at the unearthly object. A struggle followed in which the sergeant was victor. As he sat astride the van¬ quis hed, he yelled, “I’ve got him, hoys, I’ve, got the ghost.” “You have like fun,” grunted the form beneath him, “I’m the night linesman on this line. Get off me, you’ve got my raincoat all mud.” “If you’re a night linesman, explain why you sent in those calls,” said Hogan. “Me pull in the-” He got no further, for at that moment a loud buzz came from the box and yet not a person was within ten feet of it. The men looked at each other in amaze¬ ment ; surely the box was haunted. For a moment the linesman looked perplexed, then slappmg his knee, began to laugh so heartily that he could hardly stand. This was a second surprise for the men and they hardly knew whether to jump on him or whether the wierdness of the thing had unbalanced his mind. When the linesman had somewhat subsided his merriment, he gasped, “I know where the g host is.” “Where?” asked the startled group. Walking to a nearby man-hole lie turned and pointed to it. “This,” he an¬ nounced, “is the ghost of that box. Tonight as I came by, I was looking for a large leak in an electric cable. Perhaps as you know, a piece of steel charged with electricity becomes a powerful magnet. “Thus as the man-hole attracted the electricity it became magnetized.” “But how does that explain the ghost of this Box 13?” “As the man-hole became mag¬ netized, the steel lever in your box was attracted and pulled down; the cable being a night cable, hence the midnight calls, and thus the solution of the mystery of Box 13, gentlemen.” George Caldicott, T4. How Bobbie Found Santa Claus. Bobbie was tired, and he wished Daddy would come, and he just knew that Rose was looking for him. Early that morning he had rushed ahead of Rose, his pretty nurse-maid, and right into Daddy’s arms. And Daddy had held him tight, so tight that he had hurt, and then Bobbie thoughtfully rubbed his little side to see if there wasn’t at least one sore spot left, so he could show big brother, Jack, whom he had never seen; but he mournfully shook his head as he found none. He wondered what Jack was like, and if he would play horse with him. He had asked Rose if all the little boys would have a big brother come just the same as he was going to, and in the next hreath, he wondered what Jack had in his bundle for him. Daddy had said that Jack was on the sea, and he knew what that was ’cause he had seen it last summer. Suddenly he had thought that .Santa Claus would not know that Jack was coming, and he wouldn’t get any Christmas presents. He thought he would ask mother about it, ’cause he guessed she would know, for she- knew ’most anything. So Rose had taken him downstairs, but first she had called down and said that they were coming. He wondered why she had done that, for when they came downstairs, no one was about, until Daddy had come out of the nursery, with his coat off, and looking all mussed up. Bobhie had asked mother, but Daddy said she was busy, and that Bobbie could go out in the playhouse, Bobbie didn’t want to, but he let Rose bundle him up and then she carried him through the snow to the little house at the end of the lane. But everybody was acting queerly today, and now when he wanted somebody to play with most of all,

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OAK, LILY AND IVY. I 2 see your many faults, your mistakes, your failures reflected there but, too, you see the spirit of hope and endeavor and desire to mount above your old self, shining through the tragic look of discouragement, ' [ ' hat person must be lacking in all ambition, all ideals, who can let the new year pass without a solemn pledge to live up to the manhood in him more worthily than he has ever done. To the seniors, this New Year has a deeper significance than to the other mem¬ bers of the school. This year will mean actual assumption of manhood and woman¬ hood. The days of carefree, laughter-loving, mischief-making childhood will have gone forever, and the real seriousness of what life and its struggles mean will have succeeded. Some of the class will enter higher institutes of learning or perhaps will register in the vast school of life. And in the new fields of labor which this year will open before them, may they win success in its fullest meaning. However, the word “success” is frequently misunderstood. Success does not mean popularity, wealth or even honor; it means something far grander and nobler than that—it means the attaining of one’s own ideals. Because a man has gained the applause of his fellow mortals and fulfilled all their requirements it does not necessarily follow that he has succeeded. For if he has not fulfilled the requirements of his own heart as dictated by conscience he is not a success. Many a person has risen to the highest ranks of eminence of culture, refine¬ ment and accomplishments, but they have fallen short of their own ideals. Suc¬ cess, therefore, lies not in the world about, but down deep in one’s own soul. Emerson expressed it well when he said “Hitch your wagon to a star.” Seniors, are you going to live up to the goal set by yourselves, or are you going to fall far short of its attainment? Are you doing, as Seniors, what you expected to accomplish? Are you satisfied with yourselves and what you are doing? If so, success for you, both as the world counts it, and the small-world, the school, reckons it, will be lacking. Seniors, hitch your wagon to a star! Ideals—A l Freshman’s Conception, When first we started in school and began to study the complexities of the al¬ phabet, the third-graders seemed to us to be wonderful students, far advanced in education. When we reached the third grade, we yearned for the fifth, and High School seemed an Elysium ; and now, in the Freshman class of High, the Seniors seem to have reached the highest state of mortal perfection. I suppose that the admired Senior envies the college man, and so on, ad infinitum. I am sure that I have never known the time when I did not aspire to some position above me. In this way, we are all fulfilling the Law of the Ideal, and are keeping up to the pace set for us. As foolish as it may seem to us now, this worship of those above us gives us an additional incentive. We prepare algebra with more zeal, in expectation of geome¬ try; and our Latin is better prepared as we think of the coming joys ( ?) of French. All through the history course, we find the desire of those who later became famous was to copy the deeds of those who had already made their mark. Lincoln admired Washington, as he studied his life; the young Whittier strove to emulate the ac¬ complishments of Burns; and Wagner zealously studied Beethoven’s works. To be sure, many do not select the best model to be found, as for instance, the boyish hero-worship of the wonderful Jesse James leads to pernicious results unless coerced and guided into safe channels.