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

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18 THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. themselves once. I started in the direction of the sign only to find the place boarded up and an additional sign: “Moved to Pine Street.” Directly in front of the building a troupe of street musicians were preparing to play. An Italian with flowing dark hair announced the name of the selection: Burke’s Speech in Harmony.” A peculiar subject it was and a terrible tune without a doubt. Fingers were placed in ears and the shuffling of feet signified the universal displeasure which was offered by this apparently new form of harmony. When the last note of the selection blended with the hum of business, I approached the leader and I asked him the idea of the peculiar title and tune. He replied that he was endeavoring to show r the citizens of Milford the ab¬ surdity of teaching Burke’s Speech in High School. He said to me, “I can re¬ member how the class of 1920 despised that piece of literature.” “The Class of 1920,” I gasped. “Pray who are you?” “My name is Introini and here are my partners in crime—Signor Calabrese, on my left and Mademoiselle Bourcier at the extreme right,” and he bowed low with pardonable pride. So great had been my surprise that a nearby telephone pole offered my only means of support, and when power was once more returned to me, I extended a trembling hand and introduced myself. During the animated conversation which followed, they informed me that Anna Provost and Henry Volk were in Grand Opera, the latter as director of the orchestra of the Chicago Opera Co.; and I also learned that Hattie Lundgren was on the stage. We had often prophesied an excellent future for Hattie; she had such a charming speaking voice, and all the qualities of a successful actress were hers. Then after wishing them good fortune I was once more on my way, keeping step with the rhythm of their next selection. It was not long before I was half-way up Bear Hill. Suddenly I espied a form rushing from the top of the hill and waving his arms ' frantically about in the air. As he came nearer I heard his excited shouts: “I’ve got it, Ah, at last I’ve got it!” His eyes were red rimmed from anxious study and the bones protruded sharply out above the hollow of his cheeks. He grasped me by the arm and pulled me farther up the steep slope. “Mars!” he bellowed, “Mars!” “What do I care about your mother?” I panted, but gradually it dawned upon me that he might have established communication with the planet Mars. A large observatory loomed up before me with huge instruments seeming to pierce the Heavens and I began to believe that my surmise was a correct one. As he dragged me through the open door, I saw the name—“Hartwell Observatory,” but there was no time to think, and no time to be either surprised or pleased, for he thrust me into a chair and bade me place my eye at the end of a gigantic tele¬ scope. “Look!” he exclaimed. My eye glanced anxiously up the length of the instrument and rested on a large but dim sphere. Mars, sure enough! Suddenly a large white area! ap¬ peared on the darker surface of the planet and dark objects smaller than an ant in size moved restlessly about seeming to describe queer figures on the lighter surface. “It looks like Chinese script,” I said. But his only answer was an excited, “Record them!” '

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THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. 17 S u Sg est i° n after suggestion has been offered to solve the Irish problem but all in vain. Absolute freedom is the only settlement to which the Irish people, out¬ raged by the dillydallying of the English, will listen. Irish appeals in America have not gone unanswered, for the resolution recently suggested in the House to recognize Irish independence most clearly shows a disposition to acknowledge the justice of the Irish claims. The United States went to war in 1898 to free Cuba from Spanish oppression. Therefore it is but fitting that if it is a question of choosing between England and Ireland, it is to Ireland to whom America would give her unstinted support. She owes this) to her Irish-Americans and to those ideals for which she entered this war in 1917. Survey American History and you will find that to the weaker has America given her aid; to the weaker has she lent her torch to light the path to democracy. In the question of Ireland there can be no hesitation if American ideals are what they should be. It is our fervent hope that before many months have passed there shall be a new flag beside the many varied ones of this universe,—the Irish flag, proudly representing a race so deserving of its long wished for freedom. In all these decisions the United States has played her part but not so great a one as was expected. The prejudices and habits of years are hard to break and, although, America, at a time when the entire world was threatened, forgot her policy of aloofness, in peace she has remembered and sought to settle back again in her isolation. But the world will not permit her to sever all European ties. Let us hope that the future student of history, looking back upon the vista of years, can ex¬ claim : “As in War, so in Peace, has America made the world safe for Democracy.” Mary Santosuosso, ’20. THE FUTURE OF THE CLASS OF 1920. “Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and others have greatness thrust upon them,” but in the year 1930 it was my great misfortune to be living quite humbly in an abode which had no atmosphere of wealth or loveliness and whose doors had never trembled with the knock of golden opportunity. For five successive years my life had been devoted to miracles, mysteries, and occult powers, with no special reward from Fame. And so it was that on one bright midsummer’s day in 1930 I directed my course toward the woodlands sur¬ rounding Milford where I would be apart from the rest of the busy world and free to think upon my favorite subject—Utopia. Central street was dim in the shade of the ten-story buildings which lined its diverging course, and it was with difficulty that I picked my way among the pedestrians who thronged the street. I was endeavoring to distinguish the nu¬ merous signs of business which were posted over every doorway, for most of my research had been carried on in my own little studio, and it was a long time since I had breathed the dusty air of the business world in the city of Milford. Finally my eye rested on some gilded names which seemed strikingly familiar: “Metcalf and Kurlansky Pie-Alley Bakery Best of food served to skippers And then I remembered two of my former classmates who used to furnish bakery fodder to the students of the Old High School. They were good skippers

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THE, OAK, LILY AND IVY. 19 I copied the signs on the back of a set of calling cards which I had in my pocket, passing them on to him as each message took its form. I must have sat there for fully three hours when all signs of animation van¬ ished, but it was a thrilling three hours, a three hours that had a charm for me, for I knew that I was one of the first to communicate with that planet which had been the despair of scientists for nearly a decade. My companion by this time had succeeded in translating all the messages by the code which he had brought to light after years of discouraging research, and he read them to me from the very cards which I have retained as a souvenir of this memorable evening. In the same way I shall now read to you at this time the messages I received. I am a Martian Spiritualist. For ages the wish of scientists on your planet to talk to my people has haunted me. I feel I shall satisfy at least one soul in in¬ forming him of the fortunes of his former classmates in the Milford High School. “Of many lines Hester Carter has had her Pick, But the postmistress job she holds pretty slick. For she’s extremely accurate and never fails; I’ll say she knows how to handle the mails. “Bennie Kurlansky is still just the same, And he’s developed a wonderful musical fame, Nobody thought that our classmate would do so, But you never can tell, for he rivals Caruso. “Francis Thomas is boss of a fine cabaret; The “Garden of Eden’’ is the name, they say. Each feature is charming and before one would leave, . One would honestly say ’twas a place fit for “Eve.” “The music is cleverly played, you can bet, And it’s done by the great “Bolshevik Quintet.” There’s Visconti and Nelligan and even Paul Lynch, Who with long flowing whiskers make work a real cinch. The laughing duet is a feature, they say, And of course it’s accomplished by Shea and Paquet. “There’s many an audience put in a trance When Ida Gould and Bill Fairbanks start in to dance. “But applause is plenty and critics are rare, When Katie and Abe Kurlansky are there. “The explanation of Bessie McCrae’s happy look Has now come to light—She’s become a real Cook. “The firm of Santosuosso and Jackson In the business world is an essential faction. Mary, as hairdresser, is clever and wise, While Chris labors on making cosmetics and dyes. “Isadore Casey has gone in for sports; Now she’s playing star tennis on the world’s greatest courts. When interviewed by a newsman on the subject above She said, “I know little of playing, but a lot about ‘Love’!”