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

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OAK, LILY AND IVY VOL. XXVIII. MILFORD, MASS., FEBRUARY, 1912. NO. y Published Monthly During the School YTar by the Pupils of the Milford High School. BOARD OF EDITORS. Editors-in-Ctiief, Linns Jones, T2, Sara Haskard, T2. Business Manager, Clifton Webber, Y 2. Assistants Margaret Williams, ' 12. Ralph Luce, Y3. John Keane, Y2. Luigi Sanclementi, ’13. Julia McCarthy, ’13. Subscription Rates : For the year, 50 cents. Single Copies, 10 cents. Address all communications to Oak, Lily and Ivy, Milford, Mass. Entered at the Milford, Mass., Post Office, as second class matter. The Test. With a long-drawn sigh, which almost resembled a groan, Ferdinand Court¬ ney turned to his desk, in his lodging room, and took out some letters. The last that he read was the following: Dear Ferd : Only under my conditions otherwise, you know my decision. Y ours, Belle. He repeated these words to himself over and over again. It s too much to ask,” he sighed, as he passed one hand nervously over his face, grasping the arm of the chair with the other. There was a queer contraction around his mouth, and his hands trembled as he put the letters back and locked the drawer with the key, which he dropped in his pocket. Yes, Ill do it!” he stormed. “I will!” bringing down his fist hammer¬ like on the desk. “This night shall end it all!” and springing to his feet, he drove his hands deep into his pockets, and paced the floor. With sudden determination, he grasped his hat and coat, strode down town and entered a hardware store and went directly to the cutlery show-case and looked at the several weapons. He took one up and examined it and seemed to rejoice in its sharpness, and with a dark scowl he passed his hand over his face, took the neatly packed weapon and disappeared through the doorway. Back in his room, his hat and coat thrown off, he Hung himself down in front of his desk. He looked for the note he had read before he had gone out, but

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6 OAK, LILY AND IVY. Milford High School Directory. School Committee. George W. Stacy, Chairman. G. M. Billings. Waldo B. Whiting. John C. Lynch. John E. Swift. Dr. J. V. Gallagher. Superintendent, Almorin Orton Caswell. Alumni Association. President, Charles B. Godfrey, ’62. Secretary, Miss Elizabeth B. Barns, ’87. faculty. Principal, Geo. Hermann Derry, Ph. D., Greek, English , History , Civics , Elocution. Miss Inez L. Gay, Latin. Miss Helen J. Gilmore, Stenography , Typewriting, Bookkeeping , Commercial Law. Miss Mary B. Ford, Science and Mathematics. Miss Edith A. Nichols, English and History. Miss Adele Waldmeyer, French and German. Miss Marion A. Ryan, English, History , Science, Mathematics. Miss Genevieve Toohey, Drawing. Mi ss Elizabeth McNamara, Music. Dr. J. M. French. School Physicians. Dr. J. V. Gallagher, Athletic Association. President, Principal Geo. Hermann Derry. Secretary, Margaret Williams, ’12. Executive Committee, Ralph Newcomb, ’12, Linus Jones, ’12, Ray Howard, ’13. JBaseball tTeam. Manager, Lester Carey. Captain, Ralph Newcomb. football {Team. Manager, James Quirk. Captain, William McCue. Senior Class. President, Fred Goucher. Vice President, Lester Carey. Secretary, James Quirk. Treasurer, Helen Kiley. ©rchestra. Leader, John Keane, Violin. Violins, Bruce Warfield, Joseph Kane, Frank Thomas. Flutes, Paul Bragg, Ralph Luce. Cornet, Luigi De Cicco. Drums, Ralph Ward. Pianist, Lillian Moloney.

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s OAK, LILY AND IVY. his clumsy fingers could not find it. Gropingly, his fingers touched the weapon he had purchased and through his brain flashed that passage from Macbeth, which not very long before he had learned: “Is this a dagger I see before me, its handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee!” With these words came confidence in his purpose. “It is only right that I should send her some message,” lie murmured; and taking up a pen he wrote: Dear Belle:—So be it ; you will change your mind tomorrow. Yours always, Ferd. He laid this on the table and murmured, “The time has come!” Striding to the door, he locked it and turned hastily to the mirror. He seized the burnished steel, lifted it high, at the same time grasping the skin on his neck with the other hand. What was that sound? Was it a rap? Turning nervously towards the door he waited a few, long, silent seconds, but then he turned to resume his terrible task. Taking a firmer grip to steady his trembling hand, his teeth set, all nerves straining, he brought the weapon down across his cheek. “Ah, that’s much better!” he sighed, “and it wasn’t so bad after all. Jove! she is right; it does improve my appearance!” and the lather rolled neatly onto the newly-bought Gillette safety-razor. A. B., T 4 . Hinc Lacrimae Rerum. “When Mr. Robbins comes, show him into my office directly,” snapped Mr. Sturtevant, the white-haired, dignified president of the First National Bank. “Yes, sir,” mumbled the office boy, as he pulled down the coat of his uniform of which he was so proud, and hastily shifted his wad of gum into the other side of his mouth. A few moments later, Mr. Robbins was announced and greeted ner¬ vously by the president. “Have you heard about it? Will you take the case?” he asked the detective. “Yes, I read of the robbery this morning. The case appeals to me,” replied Mr. Robbins, his coolness and calm almost irritating. “But tell me the par¬ ticulars.” And awkwardly, he lowered his six feet of clumsiness into a chair and at once began the constant snapping of the knuckles of one hand with the other, which was his greatest peculiarity. “Sometime during the night, this bank was robbed of $ 30,000 and a few im¬ portant documents. The watchman made the discovery when he made his rounds at three o’clock. He immediately ’phoned me and I got down here at half after three, and found that the safe had been opened by someone who knew the working