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

Text from Pages 1 - 96 of the 1931 volume:

THROUGH MOTOR COACH SERVICE BETWEEN MILFORD AND, PARK SQUARE, BOSTON FARE, 95 CENTS - 12 Round Trips Daily Fast—Dependable—Convenient JOHNSON BUS LINES, INC. Compliments of. EAST END GARAGE 48 MEDWAY ST. GENERAL AUTO REPAIRING P. BERTORELLI, Prop. Tel. 94S-W Residence 94S-R Interstate Commercial School MILFORD ADVERTISING SECTION. 1 - Compliments of. JERRY’S MR. JOHN A. McKENZIE French Dry Cleaners and Dyers 125 Main Street, Tel. 750 MILFORD, MASS. Work called for and delivered Compliments of. Compliments of. LARKIN BROTHERS WILUAM J. MOORE, Esq. Phone 1135 Compliments of. Hannaford Auto Service Clark Shaughnesy, Props. Company Coal and Wood ELMER C. NELSON, Mgr. SS Yard, Depot Sq., Milford, Mass. Tel. 900 59 MAIN STREET, MILFORD, MASS. 45 Pearl Street, Tel. 504-M Compliments of. 6 LARGE and 6 SMALL PIECES Miss Alma E. Sweet WASHED and IRONED for 54 cents Teacher of Pianoforte SHERMAN’S LAUNDRY 32 Exchange Street, Milford, Mass. 59 School Street, Milford, Mass. Tel. 252 2 ADVERTISING SECTION. Compliments of. USE OUR NEW Sam Goldberg’s Dept. Store TEN PAYMENT PLAN TO 37 Central Street, Milford, Mass. BUY YOUR CLOTHING $10 Down, Small Payments Each Week Compliments of. NELLIGAN SQUARE FILLING STATION 176 East Main Street Milford, Mass. C. BALBONI, Prop. THE LIVE STORE OUTFIT CLOTHING CO. 199 MAIN ST., MILFORD, MASS. THE EUTE Compliments of. MILLINERY Ladies and Children’s THE HOME LAUNDRY WEARING APPAREL SPECIALTY SHOP. MILFORD, MASS. 120 MAIN STREET MILFORD, MASSACHUSETTS Telephone 66 “Good Washing Wins Goodwill” Compliments of. Compliments of. WEST STREET GARAGE Alfred B. Cenedella, Esq. GENERAL MOTORS RADIO A Good Place to Trade KNOWLES CHEVROLET, Inc. STONE FURNITURE CO., School and Spruce Streets Inc. Milford, Mass. - Tel. 596-R THE STORE OF LOW PRICES 80 Main Street gomplimente of 2) , ADVERTISING SECTION. 3 SCOTTS FLOWER SHOPPE MRS. BERTHA SCOTT, Prop. Flowers for All Occasions Funeral Work a Specialty. We Deliver 117 Main Street, Milford, Mass. Telephone 15 “Service With a Smile” NICHOLAS COSTRINO RUBBER HEEL KING Shoe Repairing Endicott Johnson Shoes and Rubbers Shoe Shine 12 Exchange Street Milford SMILING COBBLER Compliments of. WYZAN BROS. Women’s Specialty Shop Milford Compliments of. South End Confectionery Frank J. Kavanaugh Compliments of J. P. Brown SEAVER’S EXPRESS Milford to Worcester Milford to Providence Milford to Boston Telephone Connection Compliments of Madame Lebbossiere Roche Beauty Shoppe Compliments of BEN LANCISI SON B Compliments of MILFORD GAZETTE MILFORD, MASS. 4 ADVERTISING SECTION. Ifancie Carnations for all ©ccasions at Howard’s Greenhouses 150 South Main Street Haines and Foster Incorporated Something for Every one HELEN’S E PLAGE Good Things to Eat Home Cooking 224 Main Street, Milford, Mass. Helen F. Lebbossiere Authorized Sales and Service 46 Main Street, Milford, Mass. Telephone 1800 S. Mazzarelli Sons MACARONI MANUFACTURERS and BAKERS Telephone Connection 1 7 Genoa Ave., Milford, Mass. Milford Gas and Ellectric Light Co. MANNING’S SHOES a WEAR WELL 181 MAIN STREET, MILFORD LADIES’ and MEN’S Compliments of. Holeproof Hose a Dr, C. E. Whitney RING WELCH CLOTHIERS MILFORD, MASSACHUSETTS ADVERTISING SECTION. 5 State Pharmacy LELAND CROSBY MORIN’S STUDIO Special Price on Graduation Photographs 154 MAIN STREET ALHAMBRA RUBBER CO. a Manufacturers of WATER PROOF CLOTHING IN ALL THE LATEST FABRICS AT FACTORY PRICES a 125 Central Street, Milford MILFORD, MASS. F. G. Kerr Monument Co. Successors to A. C. Kinney South Bow Street, Milford, Mass. ALL KINDS OF CEMETERY WORK GRANITE and MARBLE MONUMENTS Tablets and Headstones Tel. 521-W Lettering a Specialty Peachy’s School of Music 244 Main Street Compliments of. ... Rufus E. Taft Mendon, Mass. 6 ADVERTISING SECTION. Compliments of. J. H. Perkins Compliment of. CAHILL’S NEWS AGENCY Washington Block 206 Main Street, Milford, Mass. Compliments of. Compliments of. WERBER ROSE JOHN F. DAMON INCORPORATED • 8OT SERVING THE BUSINESS NEEDS OF FRAMINGHAM AND SURROUNDING TOWNS AND CITIES FOR 30 YEARS FRAMINGHAM BUSINESS COLLEGE R. J. BRYANT, Principal Teaching of Gregg Shorthand and all Commercial Subjects DAY AND EVENING SESSIONS SUMMER SCHOOL: June, July, August. The Purpose of Our Summer School is to enable you to increase your EFFICIENCY by utilizing a few hours each week-day during June, July, and August. FALL TERM starts September 1. Any person desiring to take our REGULAR GRADUATE COURSES may begin any Monday during the Summer instead of waiting until September 1. Write for Catalog, or if possible, visit the School. Office: Room 5, Concord Building, Framingham, Tel. 432-M Entrance, 100 CONCORD STREET We have a Free Employment Bureau for the benefit of all our Graduate and ' Student . Write for our Special Offer during June, July and Augu t. ADVERTISING SECTION. 7 FREDERICK A. GOULD FOR Suits, Corsets, Coats, Summer Hardware, Plumbing and Gowns, Waists and Heating Supplies Sport Goods Go to 16-20 Exchange Street M. F. Green’s Cloak Store Milford, - Mass. 200 Main Street, Milford, Mass. SHEA BROS. ARTHUR P. CLARRIDGE Meats and Provisions General Contractor 280 Purchase Street 1 2 7 Main Street, Milford, Mass. MILFORD, MASSACHUSETTS William P. Clarke Compliments of. BROCKTON SHOE STORE B BOB General Commercial Printing Wedding Invitations, etc. Roll Tickets MILFORD DAILY NEWS B Elstablished 1887 Removed to 11 Fayette St., Milford The only Daily Paper in Milford and the only Advertising Medium for all this section of the State. Telephone Connection Sworn Circulation 4750 8 ADVERTISING SECTION. ADVERTISING SECTION. 9 Compliments of. ARCHER RUBBER CO. SOEi Milford, - Mass. Compliments of.. HEITIN BROS. Tailors and Cleaners Milford, - Mass. Tel. 668 Compliments of. GORDON’S FLORAL SHOPPE NIRO NIRO ELECTRIC HEATING AND UGHTING CONTRACTORS Hardware, Wallpaper, Window Glass Home of Kyanize and Certain-teed Paint 67 MAIN STREET, MILFORD TRASK BROTHERS Dealers in High Class CYCLES and SUNDRIES Agents for EDISON PHONOGRAPHS and RADIOS 138 Main Street, Milford, Mass. Compliments of. CROWELL DeWITT Provisions and Fancy Groceries 1 1 3 Main Street Tel. Conn. UMBERTO TOSTI CARPENTER and CONTRACTOR All Kinds of Estimates Free 18 Mechanic Street, Milford, Mass. Compliments of. MRS. SALLY SAFSTROM MILFORD, MASS. Compliments of. DR. F. H. LALLY R. MARINO Attendance Supervisor B Milford, - Mass. 10 ADVERTISING SECTION. Compliments of. John F. Rooney Company General Contractors Milford, Massachusetts Compliments of. Compliments of. JOHN W. BICKFORD H. E. SCOTT EASY WASHER 55 Grove Street, Milford, Mass. S Compliments of. 214 Main Street, - Milford, Mass. JOHN H. EGAN to THE CLASS OF 1931 Compliments of. Compliments of. Berkeley Textile Company DILLON BROS. 209 MAIN ST., Telephone 178«M Milford, - Mass. Tel. 544-M Office Hours 8-12—1-5 PAUL WILUAMS Dr. H. Ellsworth Morse Optical Specialist Insurance Broker . Suite 5, Thayer Building 219 Main Street, Milford, Mass. 4 Poplar Street Palace Barber Shop Experts in Ladies ' and Children ' s Tel. 192-W Milford, Mass. Hair Cuts Michael DeLuca Henry Pillarella ADVERTISING SECTION. 11 AVERY WOODBURY COMPANY 212 to 214 Main Street, Milford, Mass. INTERIOR DECORATORS, HOUSE FURNISHERS, CUT GLASS SILVERWARE H. S. Chadbourne Company HARDWARE MERCHANTS 228-230 Main Street We Have the Largest Assortment of HARDWARE and PAINTS BETWEEN WORCESTER and BOSTON PLUMBING and TINSMITHING John L. McTiernan PACKARD and BUICK MOTOR CARS Sales and Service Milford, Massachusetts Milford Savings Bank 236 Mam street, Muford, Mass Open every business day from 9 A. M. to 3 P. M., except Saturday. Saturdays, 9 A. M. to 1 P. M. Deposits commence to draw interest on the TENTH DAY of Each Month. Dividends are payable on and after the Third Saturday April and October. Compliments of. Trainor’s Diner Lincoln Square 12 ADVERTISING SECTION. Compliments of. SMILEY BRADBURY Watches, Glass Rings, etc. 226 Main Street, Milford, Mass. 27 Main Street, Keene, N. H, Compliments of JOHN E. SWIFT, Esq. Compliments of DR. EARL G. CROCKETT Dentist Milford, - Mass. Compliments of CROWN CONFECTIONERY CO. INSURANCE THAT REALLY INSURES WALKER INSURANCE AGENCY AUSTIN J. PHILBIN, Prop. Compliments of...... JOHN C. LYNCH, Esq. Milford, - Mass. LUIGI A. RECCHIUTO Manufacturer of AUTOMOBILE and WAGON BODIES 132 Central Street, Milford, Mass. Office Tel. 1054 Residence Tel. 1562 PERMANENT WAVING DE LUXE BEAUTY PARLOR Compliments of. LOUIS PRATT 149 Main Street Milford, Mass. ADVERTISING SECTION. 13 H. O. RITZ South Main Street, Tel. 755 Moving, Trucking and Rigging THE STRAND 6 South Main Street, Tel. 755 Clean, Comfortable Rooms Compliments of. MARCOVITCH BROS. CENTRAL SUPER-SERVICE STATION Milford Uxbridge 860 5-3 Washing, Polishing, Simonizing Compliments of. W. L. X F. POWER CO. Plumbing, Heating, Hardware CENTURY and SILENT GLOW OIL BURNERS Estimates Free 8 Plumbers of Service and Satisfaction Telephone 1 32 Compliments of. A. ROSENFELD Milford, Mass. Compliments of.... WENDELL WILLIAMS CHESTER F. WILUAMS Miss Mary E. DiAntonio Teacher of PIANOFORTE PIANO ACCORDIAN Studio, 189 Miain St., Phone 833-W Res., 20 Dominic St., Phone 665-M De LUXE CONFECTIONERY The home of famous Lemon and Lime and Delicious Ice Cream 808 BUCKLE’S 122 Main Street, Milford, Mass. Ill Main Street Milford 14 ADVERTISING SECTION Canb aiib Iflowers ANNIE LAWLESS STORE Flowers Tel. 372 Telegraphed Anywhere CRYSTAL SPA 133 Main Street ROASTED FRANKFORTS A SPECIALTY Try our New Fountain Drinks WILLIAM J. DILLON Groceries, Fruit, Ice Cream Confectionery 45 Depot Street Milford 5 Purchase Street, Milford, Mass. MUSIC FOR EVERY OCCASION Kidd Boots and the Rhythm Ramblers Peter Filosa, Manager, Tel. 1811 M Anthony Gareri, Director, Tel. 1138-J REYNOLDS’ MUSIC STORE Distributors of Atwater Kent, Philco and Victor Radios Gulbransen Pianos and Popular Sheet Music 196 MAIN ST., MILFORD, MASS. HELFAND’S DRY GOODS STORE 95 Main Street, Milford £3 WOONSOCKET MILL STORE 140 Main Street, Milford Established 1877 Incorporated 1911 A. H. SWEET CO., Inc. Drugs, Medicines and Chemicals No. 213 MAIN STREET P. J. LAWLESS, President GEO. H. SWEET, Treasurer Prescriptions Carefully Compounded DR. HERBERT W. SHAW Dentist MILFORD, - MASS. Compliments of. Thomas’ Hairdressing Room SHARKEY’S TAXIES Tel. 89-W MILFORD, MASS. Corner of State Theatre ADVERTISING SECTION. 16 Miscoe Ginger Ale A Beverage of the Best Quality Manufactured Directly from Nature’s Pure Mineral Spring Water Try a bottle or a case. It is invigorating and refreshing. Note its snappy, pleasing taste. You will find it different from all others, be¬ cause of the fact of the high quality of the water and the ingredients used in its manufacture. ORDER A CASE FROM YOUR GROCER. MISCOE SPRING WATER COMPANY When you want a real drink, ask for Miscoe. MENDON, MASSACHUSETTS - Telephone 756-J Compliments of Compliments of WILLIAM A. MURRAY, Esq M. H. S. 1907 CENEDELLA COMPANY a Compliments of. DR. R. E. ELLSWORTH Dentist Milford, Mass. Milford, Mass. 16 ADVERTISING SECTION. To 4ie outgoing class of iitlfori litglj i rIi[onl we extend Our sincere N isKes for a successful and prosperous future CiOR some, school days are over, The {hree R’s are of die past But here’s hoping whedier here or diere Our friendship, it will last. Ma}) your futures be as a serial, each chapter adding lustre to your Alma Mater and to yourselSJes until vi hen finally brought to a climax you may remember with pride 4ie letters you love M isKt? H «oic S eroic ✓uccessful Wifh a desire to alwa;9s play our small part in anything of a communit? spirit we beg to remain Interstate Theatres Joe B. Hurl, Manager Op era House State Theatre Arthur Mahe;?, House Manager Geo. Meade, House Manager P RT n:.: ; •.■M ' H s.-;;ife :.jm ■ . ' iP “ SENIORS, 1931 THE OAK, ElliY AHD ivy VOL. XLVI. MILFORD, MASS., JUNE, 1931. No. 1. Published by the Pupils of the Milford High School. Under the Supervision of Miss Marion A. Ryan of the English Department. BOARD OF EDITORS. Editor-in-Chief—Pauline E. Smith, ’31. Business Managers— Marco A. Balzarini, ’31, George L. Murray, ’31. ASSOCIATE EDITORS. Sabina T. Burns, ’31. Maurice E. Day, ’31. Richard L. McGinnis, ’31. Henry L. Iacovelli, ’31. Louise F. Cenedella, ’31. ASSOCIATE BUSINESS MANAGERS. Genevieve M. Broderick, ’31. Allan S. King, ’31. Lillian F. King, ’31. Lavelle M. Macuen, ’31. Business Management of this Magazine under the Supervision of Miss Lillian L. Egan of the Commercial Department. Single Copies, 15 cents. Address all communications to Oak, Lily and Ivy, Milford, Mass. EDITORIAL. PROGRESS. As we look about us, we see many proofs of the growth of the world’s civilization in the comforts and safety we enjoy to-day. Locomotives, auto¬ mobiles, airplanes go speeding by us. At home we listen to the radio or read by the light of electric bulbs. Yet in spite of the numerous evidences of progress, few of us realize fully what a remarkable age is ours in com¬ parison with past epochs. If we think of prehistori c man, we smile at his crude mode of living; yet with him began the development of the world. He made the first strides in invention. The necessity of protecting himself against wild beasts led him to devise crude yet helpful stone weapons. Later he substituted metals for stone. As his mind developed, he realized that by uniting with other families into groups, protection could be more easily secured. As crude as this union was, it was the first step toward organized government. Since that time progress has been made in all lines of endeavor and to¬ day we are in a highly developed state of civilization. People are organized into communities and take part in governmental affairs. Systems of educa¬ tion enable everyone to develop his mental powers. 18 THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. But progress has not always been made through the efforts of men united for one purpose. Individuals, alone in their ambitions, actuated by an undying faith in themselves, have brought about the advance of civiliza¬ tion. Kipling in his poem If wrote the following lines to show his attitude toward self-reliance: “If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you; i|: 5|c 5jc Yours is the earth and everything that’s in it. And—what is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!’’ Self-confidence, according to Kipling, is the making of a man. Without it, world progress would have ceased. For example, anti-slavery leaders did away with a harmful institution because they had confidence in themselves even when others ridiculed them. Nearly all men of genius were scorned, but belief in themselves held them to their tasks. Columbus was believed to be mad when he advanced the theory of the sphericity of the world, but now he is revered as the discoverer of America. Pasteur, one of the greatest men in the field of medicine, did remark¬ able work for mankind by his research in bacteriology. Even though his efforts were ridiculed, he continued experimenting, and thousands have bene¬ fited by his remarkable contributions to the medical world. If Robert Fulton had not trusted in his own ability, he would not have given to the world the steamboat, which has done so much in bringing the continents closer together. Most of us remember that when Lindbergh started out on his memor¬ able flight, he was called “the flying fool.” In spite of this attitude toward him, his flight was successful and aviation advan ced through his efforts. Hundreds of other men could be mentioned who withstood the ridicule of the fickle majority only to win great acclaim by some remarkable feat. To-day we are benefiting by the ingenuity of past ages and by the achievements of outstanding men who have sacrificed time and effort for woild progress. Therefore we should not stand back and gain advantage from other people s toil but should strive to reach the heights so nobly set forth in Carl Sandburg’s poem Prayers of Steel :— “Lay me on an anvil, 0 God. Beat me and hammer me into a crowbar. Let me pry loose old walls. Let me lift and loosen old foundations. Lay me on an anvil, 0 God. Beat me and hammer me into a steel spike. Drive me into the girders that hold a skyscraper together. Take red-hot rivets and fasten me into the central girders. Let me be the great nail holding a skyscraper through blue nights into white stars.” Pauline Smith, ’ 31 . THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. 19 SALUTATORY. In behalf of the class of nineteen thirty-one I extend a most cordial welcome to you all. We wish to thank our parents and teachers for their co-operation during the past four years and we desire to express our hap¬ piness at their presence here to-night. THE PHILOSOPHY OF SHAKESPEARE. The title of the foremost writer of English literature of all time is possessed by a man who lived more than three hundred years ago. The fame of that writer, William Shakespeare, has spread through every civilized country and to every generation. The plays of this remarkable dramatist are still read because of their dramatic power, their poetic beauty, and their philosophy, for Shakespeare was a philosopher as well as a dramatist. As a philosopher Shakespeare showed a profound understanding of human nature. He has filled his plays with everlasting truths. He wrote about human ideals and ambitions which are always the same in all ages. The tragedy Julius Caesar is, perhaps, not so popular as others, but, nevertheless, it contains some of the great man’s moral truths. The real hero, Brutus, had worthy ideals which influenced him to murder his friend Caesar. These ideals are now embodied in modern governments. Brutus wanted a democracy and in his own words we read, “I slew my best lover for the good of Rome.” Hence, even though the people of a democracy can¬ not sympathize with the brutal murder of Caesar, they do sympathize with the motives of the noble Brutus. Brutus was loved deeply by his wife Portia. She was a fine type of woman who was at all times loyal to her husband. To give proof of her devotion she said: “I have made strong proof of my constancy. Giving myself a voluntary wound Here, in the thigh: can I bear that with patience. And not my husband’s secrets?” There has been no nobler example of friendship than that between Antonio and Bassanio in Shakespeare’s popular comedy. The Merchant of Venice, Antonio was entirely unselfish, and he even exposed himself to the utmost danger to lend Bassanio money with which to journey to Belmont to woo Portia. Bassanio, in turn, tried his best to save Antonio from Shy- lock’s scheme of revenge. Antonio attempts to console Bassanio with his cheerful farewell words: ' ‘Give me your hand, Bassanio; fare you well! Grieve not that I am fallen to this for you.” The folly of racial prejudice is forcefully exposed in another scene wherein Shylock points out the similarity of Jews and Christians. Fired with indignation over the abuse heaped upon him by the Christians merely because he is of a different religion, Shylock exclaims: 20 THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. “I am a Jew. Hath not a Jew eyes? hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions? fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer, as a Christian is?” These words always bring forth a feeling of sympathy from readers or audiences. No doubt they always will because of their appeal to the heart of every free man who believes in democracy. Portia’s mercy speech is another well known passage of The Merchant of Venice, and one to be remembered because of its grace and everlasting truth. Portia tried to persuade Shylock to accept money instead of human flesh for his bond, as she reminded him: “The quality of mercy is not strained. It falleth as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest. It blesseth him that gives and him that takes.” At the end of her speech she begged Shylock to be merciful and spare Antonio. Her womanly loveliness and virtues will ever be remembered. One of Shakespeare’s greatest tragedies is Hamlet. This play deals mainly with the misfortunes of Prince Hamlet of Denmark, whose father had been murdered by his uncle. The characteristics of the unfortunate Hamlet are true to life. By turns he is joyful and depressed. He has only one friend, Horatio, in whom he can conflde. All the others are false and artificial. Even his mother fails him. Hamlet’s sweetheart, Ophelia, is so obedient to her father that she disregards Hamlet’s love for her. Her brother, Laertes, is also influenced by his lather. To Laertes, who is about to set out on a journey, Polonius gives a group of maxims: “Give thy thoughts no tongue Nor any unproportion’d thought his act. Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice Take each man’s censure, but reserve thy judgment To thine own self. To thine own self be true, And it must follow as the night the day Thou canst not then be false to any man.” Whom we, to gam our peace, have sent to peace Than on the torture of the mind to lie In restless ecstasy.” “Better be with the dead. peace THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. 21 The characteristics of Macbeth and Lady Macbeth seem to be reversed. Macbeth was a gallant soldier but was selfish and possessed his full share of moral cowardice. However, he was influenced by his wife, who had ad¬ mirable control of herself and a good supply of moral courage, although she, as a woman, lacked the physical strength of Macbeth. To Macbeth’s expressions of fear she replied: “But screw your courage to the sticking place. And we’ll not fail.’’ Unfortunately, Macbeth became convinced that Duncan’s murder could be accomplished, and he said, “I am settled, and bend up Each corporal agent to this terrible feat.” The murder of Duncan was Macbeth’s first crime but not his last. Each crime made him more cruel and tyrannical, and little by little his moral cowardice disappeared. However, Lady Macbeth, the compelling force in the first of the drama, weakened at the end. She babbled all her secrets for curious listeners to hear. In the night walking scene, the guilty queen cries in remorse: “Here’s the smell of the blood still; all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand.’’ Macbeth’s realization of the futility of crime comes to him a short time before his death. When in a thoughtful mood, he said: “I have lived long enough; my way of life Is fallen into the sear, the yellow leaf; And that which should accompany old age As honor, love, obedience, troops of friends, I must not look to have; but, in their stead, Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honor, breath, Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not.’’ Ben Jonson aptly said, “Shakespeare wrote not for an age but for all time.” In our homes, our libraries, and our schools are volumes of Shakespeare’s works. No other author, ancient or modern, can take his place in our hearts. His ideals are our ideals, and his immortal words are the delight of modern scholars. Leigh Hunt rightly spoke of Shakespeare as “Humanity’s divinest son, that sprightliest, gravest, wisest, kindest one . . . .” Dorothy Phillips, ’31. 22 THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. THE DISAPPEARANCE OF lOHN K. WADE. ( A Short Story.) Nature with all its forces has played strange tricks on mere men. Men have gone down to sea in ships and never returned; airplanes have crashed to the earth, forced down by freaks of nature; men have disap¬ peared forever from the sight of their friends; tornadoes have ruined whole towns. But what trick of nature could make a man disappear from his own home in broad daylight? Mrs. Wade related the facts of her husband’s disappearance to a group orf weary policemen. “I left my husband in the parlor for about five minutes, and when I returned, he had gone. I looked through the whole house, but I couldn’t find him. The yard is very muddy and footprints could easily be seen on it, but there were no prints. He has not left the house, and he’ is not in the house. It has baffled me. I hope you can find him. He has never left me in this manner before.” What were you and your husband discussing before his disappearance?” a policeman asked. ‘T was telling him a few errands which he might do tomorrow,” she answered. ‘‘Did you quarrel about the errands?” the policeman then inquired. “No, indeed! We never quarreled about errands,” she said. The inquiry proceeded uselessly for more than an hour After the policemen went away, Mrs. Wade put everything in perfect order and swept the mud from the rugs. She sighed as she looked at the only chair in which she had allowed John to sit because of his greasy clothes. She pic- tured him as he had sat there reading the daily paper. Often when she had scolded him, he would smile at her with his brown eyes and push back his curly black hair as he thought of a suitable answer. He had not grown old as quickly as she had. Her blue eyes had already lost the glow of youth, and her brown hair was turning gray even though she was only thirty-five. She thought, “How could John have hidden in the house? I have searched it and the policemen have gone through it thoroughly. He didn’t leave the house because—but what’s the use of thinking about how he dis¬ appeared? I must find him.” THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. 23 She heard a slight rustling sound and she jumped from the chair. She searched the cellar and the attic without result. Returning to the parlor, she noticed a huge dead limb which brushed against the window. ‘‘Oh, that old thing is always bothering me; I think I’ll have it cut off,” she said to herself. During John’s absence, which had already lasted twelve days, Mrs. Wade did very little work. She sat by the window and thought of the work she had made John do. She wondered if he had really minded it. She chanced to look at the window. It was covered with black marks as if a man’s finger or animal’s paw had rested there. On the floor beneath it there was a track of black marks which led to the kitchen. In the kitchen several doughnuts were missing and the plate was covered with dirt. Under the table, looking dejected and forlorn, was her Chow dog, Ming Toy. She refrained from scolding him because she realized that he had been neglected. A month of sorrowful days was endured by Mrs. Wade. The errands which she had assigned to John had never been done; the rugs had not been beaten; the cellar had not been cleaned; a pile of rubbish remained ready to burn; a dozen windows needed a washing; and a certain desk was full of unpaid bills. The dead limb still brushed against the window from which the black marks had been removed. When Mrs. Wade was drowsing on her thirtieth sleepless night, a ter¬ rific crash broke the stillness of the June air. She sat up suddenly, and then she jumped from the bed. She looked out of the open window. The worth¬ less dead limb had finally fallen. But then she saw something which made her stand still with horror. Quickly she put a wrapper about her and hurried from the house. Two months later at the same window from which Mrs. Wade had looked on that eventful night in June, a figure sat in an armchair. When Mrs. Wade entered the room, the figure spoke. “My leg has improved so well under your care, Mary, that it is diffi¬ cult to realize it is broken.” “I’m glad I can help you, John. It’s time I did something besides scold you. Now you’re better, please tell me everything that has happened,” Said the wife of John K. Wade. John sighed and said, “It’s too long to tell at one time, but I’ll tell the main facts. When you put two mats in the hall for me to use, it was too much for any man to stand. So I opened the window, climbed out on the old limb, jumped to the street, hired a taxi, and then went to my brother’s cottage in the country where I evaded the police for the whole month. I came home once. You know about that from the missing doughnuts and black marks. I didn’t mean to stay home when I came in the other night, but that limb fell when I stepped on it.” John held a pipe in his hand during his narration. A limb rustled against the window. Startled. John made a quick movement, and the ashes of his pipe fell to the floor. He looked at his wife as if expecting a scold¬ ing. She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it quickly and put her hand in his. Dorothy Phillips, ’31. 24 THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. THE HAND OF A FATHER. (A Short Story.) Philip Vernon rose from the green plush pullman chair, stretched his six feet two in an undignified manner for a Harvard alumnus of three days’ standing, and walked to the platform of the Grenville station. “Philip, dear!” his mother cried in sheer joy. He embraced her warmly and then shook hands with his father in a more reserved way. As the three rounded the corner of the station, Philip stopped in amazement. “Why, father, you’ve bought a new span of horses and carriage.” “Yes, Philip,” his father answered. “We bought them for you.” “Now that you’re home for good, Philip dear, we want you to have everything and be just as happy as any boy in this town,” said his mother. Philip shrank within himself. How could he tell them of the offer to go to India with the United Coffee Company? But he must do it before the night was over or he would never be able to tell them. “We’ve invited a few of your old friends in to-night,” Mrs. Vernon told her son as they arose from the dinner table. “And Mary Randolph will be with them,” his father added with a sly smile, but before you meet them, I want to see you alone in the library.” After Mr. Vernon had settled back in his chair behind the beautiful antique mahogany desk in his library, the bomb-shell came—as Philip felt that it would—although he had no idea of what it would be. “Philip,” his father began in a very serious and determined voice. “I am pi cud of you. You have proved yourself to be the boy that I’ve always wanted you to be.” He paused. “And for that reason I am going to take you into the business. We will form a partnership.” Philip stared. For a full minute the room was deadly silent. Then he began. “But, Father—.” “Now, no ‘but father’ about it.” “I knew you’d take it this way. Don’t tell me that you don’t deserve it and all that sort of bosh. It’s settled. You are now a member of the firm and you will soon learn the business. Even X A, j. n . l noAv you do. Say no more about now but tell your friends to-night, and tomorrow we will go to Lawyer Parker’s office and have the papers drawn up.” With this he walked from the room. How long Philip sat there he did not know. Life itself seemed to slip from him. The things that he had dreamed of were never to be fulfilled he thought with bitterness, and he could see nothing but a drab existence in Grenville for the rest of his life. He rose and went to his room. He took some stationerv from his drawer. He sat down at his desk and wrote: Grenville, Tenn. Mr. J. H. Mason United Coffee Co. New York City Dear Sir: June 19, 1900. I am very sorry to inform you that I shall be unable to accept the you offered me. An unforeseen happening makes it position in India that utterly impossible for me to accept. Very truly yours, Philip Vernon. THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. 26 Philip Vernon, Jr. rose from the g’reen plush pullman chair and stretched his six feet two in a manner ungentlemanly for a three-day alumnus of Harvard. He walked out on to the Grenville platform and engaged the only taxi that was on hand. When he arrived home, he found that only his mother and grandfather were there to greet him. His father would be back in time for dinner. Philip visualized the arguing that he would have to do in order to accept that position, but he would do it if it were his last act on earth. How could anyone be content to bury himself in a town like this for the rest of his life! Mr. Vernon came in and greeted his son warmly. “Junior,” his mother began at the dinner table, “it’s so nice to know that you are home for good. I’ve missed you so much. But now I’m very glad that you will be with us all the time,” she finished with a contented smile. Yes, it certainly is nice to have you home,” his grandfather put in, “and now that I’m getting old, you’ll be taking my place in the business.” “Oh, it is coming,” Philip thought. I’ll be hanged before I’ll spend the rest of my life here.” His flow of thoughts v ere cut short by his father’s voice. “I’d like to see you in the library. Junior.” Well, Junior, ’ he began after he had settled back in his chair in the libraiy. It ouve done good work in college but not once have you men¬ tioned what you intended to do. Haven’t you anything in mind?’’ Philip’s mind became a whirlwind. Here was the time to tell him! Don’t give him a chance to object! But he failed—all that he could say was. Well, Dad, I have a position in mind with the United Cigar Company, but I’d have to go to Havana.” He waited for the objections, but instead his father smiled. “Well, I’m no mind reader. Junior, but I thought that a smart boy like you must have something in mind. I think that will be great. Just leave your mother and grandfather to me.” Philip jumped from his chair and grasped his father’s hands. “Oh Dad, I never thought you’d understand. You living here all your life and never going anywhere. I thought it was understood that I was going into the business.” Mr. Vernon made no reply but merely gave his son a smile that puzzled him. Louise Cenedella, ’31. THE SCOOP. (A Short Story.) In a room on the third story of an apartment house in foggy London, Cyrus Braggdon, highly esteemed radio lecturer on capital punishment, lay on the floor with a dagger through his heart. He left the studio at 9.45 that fatal Monday evening. Fifteen minutes later he was dead. I managed to slip in to his rooms by means of my card from the Daily Tribune. Detective Sergeant Rice looked at me coldly. “Well?” he grunted. “Reporter, sir,” I answered, offering my card. 26 THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. I learned that a man from Number 14 had put in a call for help at the downstairs switchboard. The operator put the call through to Scotland Yard, and shortly after, the room was filled with its representatives. They found no clues. Nothing. The coroner ex amined the body. When he finished he said to Sergeant Rice, “The body is ' in an unnatural position. The leg, horribly twisted, has been broken. I perceive no signs of any struggle. He’s stabbed three inches through the heart. The dagger was evidently used as an envelope opener, for there is a tiny scrap of paper stuck to the hilt.” “Then,” put in Rice, “why wouldn’t it go through the opposite side of the envelope? The dagger is fully five inches long; an ordinary envelope is only four at the most.” “You misunderstand me,” he said coolly. “I didn’t mention the num¬ ber of times it was used; I merely said it had been used.” He handed the Sergeant the large square envelope he had picked up off the table. “Here, Sergeant. Five inches, approximately.” Rice was about to open it when the Inspector entered. Rice submitted the envelope to him. The coroner explained the situation, when he finished, Richard King, the fingerprint expert, announced that he had found no fing¬ erprints other than Braggdon’s. “How do you know they’re Braggdon’s?” said Inspector Darney. “Because I have already compared them with the prints of the de¬ ceased.” “You knew him?” “Yes.” “Hm!” mused the Inspector. “Anything else?” “Well, there’s a deep scratch on the leg of the table.” “Perhaps Mr. Braggdon tripped over it and broke his leg,” I remarked. “Sorry,” King eyed me with amusement. “Mr. Braggdon never wore leather heels and this scratch couldn’t possibly have been made by rubber ones.” I relapsed into silence. “There are no fingerprints on the dagger, or anywhere else. I have examined everything quite thoroughly,” King went on. “As for enemies—” “Yes, of course,” said Darney. “His vehement speeches against the criminals have made many.” The inspector opened the envelope. “Queer,” muttered Darney. “It’s dated ‘April fifth.’ This is the twenty-ninth. Why should he just be opening it now? Otherwise, it’s only a fan letter.” He evidently judged it unimportant for he threw it on the table. I made a copy of it. It read as follows: “April 5, 1930. “My dear Mr. Braggdon, “I appreciate your speeches but warn myself quite sternly, as you re¬ ceive many, many letters, not to expect an answer to this humble one. “You speak very, very well. On Monday I enjoyed your speech. I am sure you will do your utmost to kill criminology in the underworld. If it’s in your power you will, I am sure, do so. “Respectfully, “J. G.” I was about to throw it down again when it occurred to me that it was strange that he should bring this letter home when doubtless he received THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. 27 hundreds at the studio every day. The date, “April 5,” seemed to contain some significance. I vaguely recalled a story I had read once in which the figure “five” was outstanding. I tried vainly to remember its significance. In a few moments I was walking up a foggy London street, reluctant to go home as I felt that I could think better out in the open. As I crossed Grosvenor Square, I was arrested by the shrill voice of a woman calling to a young boy. “Aaron!” she shouted. “Aaron!” I echoed. The dawn of light! Aaron Burr! The letter his sweetheart, Peggy, had written to her father! A secret message,—every fifth word! I had solved it! When I returned I learned that pieces of cracked putty had been dis¬ covered on the window sill. Someone had evidently slammed the window. It was apparent that “J. G.” (I was sure it was he) had entered the room previous to Braggdon and secured the dagger, to mislead the police. Braggdon’s desk was full of “fan mail”; so that expelled the theory that he was puzzled about that letter. When Braggdon arrived, he unsuspiciously moved toward his desk. A sound outside the window arrested his attention and, turning, he gazed with terror upon the face of his murderer, who hurled the dagger at him. In falling, his leg twisted beneath him, so he was killed before he broke his leg. The murderer removed all fingerprints, slammed the window, but failed to notice the clue he left! The fiery speech found in the victim’s desk condemning the underworld confirmed my deduction that the murderer was a member of a notorious gang bent upon punishing Braggdon for disturbing the “peace” of the underworld. When I presented the solution at Headquarters, I was flattered at Darney’s dumbfounded expression. He read: “ ‘April 5, 1930. ‘I warn you not to speak Monday. I will kill if you do. ‘J. G.’ ” and Mr. Braggdon had spoken! I looked triumphantly at Richard King. I had convinced him of the capability of women reporters. “ ‘Long John Gorman’!” gasped the Inspector. The next morning the Daily Tribune blazed forth with the news, the only paper with the complete mystery solved. It was my first “scoop.” I was happy! Anna Rannahan, ’31. HUMORESQUE. (A Short Story.) The dinner had been excellent. So were the cigars, judging from the laughter and good-humored conversation which drifted in through the open window. “Let’s join the men,” said the beautiful, vivacious Lady Timothy, who was our hostess at their famous plantation in Cuba. We assented and strolled onto the verandah. The night was warm and flooded with moonlight. The stars twinkled brightly, and the moon cast a 28 THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. lingering silvery caress on the ocean. The scent of flowers mingled pleas¬ antly with the low-toned, pleasant conversation, and in the distance came the tinkling of a guitar. The conversation was general, but soon drifted into personal experiences. It centered as usual on Major Flansworth, writer, artist, and soldier of fortune. “Surely, Major Flansworth, with all your strange and varied experi¬ ences,” said Lady Timothy, playing her part as hostess perfectly, “you must have encountered many odd and interesting people.” “Yes, indeed! But I shall never forget one incident which happened years ago in Paris. It changed me from a boy to a man,” he said quietly, and a look of deep sorrow passed quickly over his face. “Tell us about it, Major,” urged Sir Timothy, and we eagerly joined in this plea. “Well,” began the Major, “after I had graduated from Oxford, I de¬ cided to take up art and accordingly went to Paris. There I became ac¬ quainted with the usual Bohemian crowd and acquired the dress and habits of Bohemian life. And then I became acquainted with Phillipe.” Here again the look of sorrow overspread his face. “Phillipe was a real Bohemian in the exact sense of the word. His clothes were the most bizarre, most untidy of all. His age anywhere between forty and sixty. He was the gayest, most irresponsible, most lovable man I had ever met. “I had known him for about a week when he took me into his confi¬ dence. I had called at his studio, and he had drawn me aside and said: ‘Charles, -I will show you something. It is a great secret, and you must promise to keep it thus. You will promise?’ “ ‘Yes’ ” I said, “ ‘what is it?’ ” “He crossed the room, skillfully avoiding chairs, tables, and other arti¬ cles of furniture which would have filled a two-room apartment. Pulling aside a curtain, he revealed a canvas. “ ‘This,’ he said to me in a hushed, awed tone, ‘is my masterpiece. The Praying Mother I call it. I have been working on it for twenty years. No one knows of it. They think I am nothing but an idler, but when it is finished, my name and picture will live on through immortality’ and a shining happy light illuminated his face. “I saw an elderly woman, kneeling in a great cathedral, beautifully colored lights streaming over her tired, worn face, with a calm, beautiful look in her eyes. “ ‘Phillipe,’ I said to him earnestly, ‘it is surely a masterpiece!’ “Several years passed. I still lingered in Paris on the pretext of study¬ ing art, and I had become deeply attached to Phillipe. He still worked and dreamed over his masterpiece. “ ‘The light in the woman’s eyes,’ he would say to me; ‘it eludes me. There is something lacking. I cannot find it,’ and in a frenzy of anger one day he crashed his hand down on the table, spilling his wine, breaking the glass, and cutting his right hand severely. “I offered him my sympathy, but warned him. ‘Take care of your hand, Phillipe, it looks rather nasty.’ ” “ ‘It is nothing,’ he assured me. ‘But the light in the woman’s eyes— I must find it. That picture must be completed before I die. I am getting old, Charles, my friend.’ ” “Two weeks later, they amputated Phillipe’s right hand up to the elbow. I visited him in the hospital. My sympathy was wordless—I was far too sorry. Phillipe was silent, but at parting he whispered to me, sadly: 29 THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. Charles, my friend, I have found the light in the woman’s eyes, but my masterpiece will never be completed.’ ‘T rushed from the room. A great desire for tears came, but I fought it off, and as I walked along the street, Goethe’s words clamored in my ears, ‘God is a greater humorist than I.’ That was the last day of my boy¬ hood.” The low clear voice ceased, a deep silence fell on the gay company, and a chilling wind swept up from the ocean. Lillian Chafetz, ’31. HIGH TENSION. (A Short Story.) It was half past eight by the clock over the fireplace in the home of Jack Nolan, head linesman of his community. Jack, dressed in warm cloth¬ ing, attached to his belt, wire, a pair of pliers, a rope and in fact everything which a linesman would need for emergency. His wife, in the meantime, had prepared his lunch. “Take care of Junior while I’m gone.” “Take care of yourself. Jack,” answered his wife. Jack stepped from his warm home out into the cold biting air. Bill Dowley, his assistant, met him. “All have left, sir.” “Fine. Take care. Bill.” Knowing all his men had left. Jack started off on his route. After walk¬ ing about a half mile or so(, he approached the first pole. He ascended the pole to test the wir es, connected the transmitter, and telephoned to his home. “Hello, wifey! Everything’s fine.” “Junior’s fine. Jack. Take care,” was the reply. In a minute he was on his way for the second pole. Plodding along, he noticed the sun’s reflection on the snow; the snow covered tree tops with the gilded edges was a beautiful sight. Below him in a little valley was a stream of cold, sparkling spring water bordered with birch trees. After leaving these beautiful sights, he arrived at his second pole. He then descended and was soon on his way to the last pole. This last journey was tiresome. Jack was hungry; his tools began to feel heavy, making the walking difficult. Finally he arrived at his last pole; he tele¬ phoned his wife. “This is Jack. Everything’s fine.” He suddenly paused, a frightened look came over his face, for two wolves were approaching. “What’s the matter. Jack? Are you in danger? Are those wolves I hear?” “No, it’s just your imagination,” he quickly replied, and then discon¬ nected the telephone. Trapped and with no one to help him! What could he do? He re¬ mained in his position, thinking of a way to get rid of them. “I must get rid of them before they attract the others ” he said to himself. In his mind ran the horrible thoughts of the hungry man-eating wolves tearing his body to pieces; his men finding the remains; the horror and 30 THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. fright with which the news would bring to his wife. The thoughts of his last farewell to wife and child which he might never see again stayed in his mind. He must get out of this horrible danger. He must risk any¬ thing to get back. He looked down at his belt. There were his tools and dinner box. Couldn’t he do something with these? He opened his dinner box and found a large piece of steak which was to be his dinner. He had an idea; whether it would work or not was to be found out. He took the rope and wire which were about his belt and tied them together. To the other end of the wire he attached the pliers to which he had tied the piece of meat. Holding on to the rope, he threw the other end of the wire over the high tension wires. The dangling piece of meat attracted the attention of the wolves. One of the wolves grabbed the meat in his jaws and was quickly thrown to the ground. The other wolf, not knowing that death was waiting for him, did the self-same thing. He, too, lay on the snow. Jack relaxed his hold on the rope and the great man killer dropped into the snow. He descended the pole very cautiously, adjusted his snowshoes, and was quickly on his way home. He did not notice the beautiful scenery which he had previously admired. Bill Dowley, who had arrived early, was waiting for Jack. Suddenly he saw the well-built, square-shouldered form of Jack approach from the distance. Bill having given his report. Jack proceeded homeward. He was met by his wife, who was out in the freezing air. “What’s the matter? Anything the matter with Junior?” he asked. “I thought of the wolves ever since that last call, and I have been frightened.” “I was all right. Don’t let your foolish fancies trouble you so. I told you that it was only your imagination.” Donald Consoletti, ’31. IN LEE OF TROUVILLE. (A Short Story.) It was a dull and soundless day. The dark clouds hung low in the heavens, and already a light mist, typically autumnal , was arising, chilling my frame, for I was but lightly vested. My bicycle was quite wet when I reached Trouville, and as I rode through the deserted street, a peculiar sense—a sense of some sorrowful impression pervaded my spirit. Two or three church spires warned me of the larger village beyond. I now felt miserably damp and the biting winds numbed my very form. At length I found myself within view of a single desolate cottage bad¬ ly battered by the bleak winds of approaching winter. A tarn, black and dismal, lay beyond the dwelling, and as I gazed upon it, I shuddered. I dismounted my bicycle and walked up the almost lost path to the front door, which I found locked. I peered through the shutters. I saw nothing queer nothing but an old iron bed, a few chairs, and a table on top of which lay a cup and plate. That was all. Nothing in the rear of the cottage except great clumps of withered field grass and stones. The tarn, so black and gloomy, revealed no sign. THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. 31 Fast approaching darkness forced me to be off in order to put up at the next farmhouse. It was a friendly sort of peasant who greeted me at the door with candle in hand; over his shoulder his frail little wife smiled a welcome also. I entered. “Rather cold,” I said. “Oui, tees tres cold,” said the old woman. “I fear we’re going to have the winter early.” Then after a short pause she added, “You must be completely wet. Come, let me make your coat dry at the fire. Armadas, take m’sieur to the chambre while I bring some hot wine for him.” “Tell me,” I said to the old man, “who used to live in that old house up the road?” “Oh, m’sieur,” he said, “please do not speak of it.” The manner by which the old gentleman’s face became pallid suggested that something mysterious and ghastly were connected with the house. When I went to rest, the rain had ceased, and the bloody new moon, al¬ though partly hidden by clouds, cast a hideous light through my lattice. While I stood there, pondering over the events of the closed day, I imagined I saw an old woman with silvered hair blowing wildly with the mad winds, waving her hands convulsively as if grappling for hidden fancies. She held what appeared to be a cross, a cross illuminated by a peculiar light. She seemed utterly to lose control of her exhausted body, emitting ter¬ rible shrieks—shrieks as one utters when he is falling down a deep abyss into which he has been hurled. Then she drew back and knelt down. Then immediately scrambling to her feet, she disappeared! The branches of the great elms seemed to swoop down with the winds and enshroud her in their blackened silhouettes. In my nervous state I retained enough presence of mind to avoid ex¬ citing myself, but as I returned to my rest, I wondered at such a phantasm, and soon dropped off to a troubled sleep. The next morning broke, a threatening day. When I went into the kitchen, I was greeted by my host and his wife. I sat down with them and partook of the frugal meal. “Last night,” I said, “when I was about to retire, I saw an old woman with an odd cross in her hand—” “Oh,” screamed my hostess and fell back in her chair. “Oui,” said the old man. Then pointing the stem of his pipe he whispered, “ ‘La Folle’—the one who lived in the old house up the road.” I could not persuade him to say more; so after bidding them adieu and saying that I would return later, I started off on my bicycle toward the old house. “Ah,” I said to myself, “here come some peasants. I’ll ask them. Pos¬ sibly they will tell me. These old people are so superstitious.” “Good day,” I said. “Could you tell me who lived in that house, la?” They looked at me queerly, and struggled to say, “La Folle, la Folle,” and ran away. Soon the angel us tolled, and I returned to the p easant’s home. Not wishing to dampen my good welcome, I said no more of “La Folle.” “I must be going along,” I said to them finally, “but before I go, please tell me of ‘La Folle.’ ” They hesitated, but then the peasant spoke. 32 THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. “You see,” he said, “ ‘La Folle’ as we named her, was once a Madame Bauclaire. Her husband died many years ago and her only son—” I urged him on. “Eh bien,” he said, “he was killed. The French Embassy sent her a croix de guerre; that is what you saw in her hand. For a year no one has seen her. We think she has killed herself; that is why we fear to talk of her, even go by her house.” After thanking them for their good welcome, I took off. My course necessitated me to return again by the old house. “Just to satisfy myself,” I mumbled as I mounted the stone steps. “Surely nothing is here,” I said to myself. Then I walked toward the tarn. I looked down into its gruesome depths—a shining substance. The war cross! “Her bones must lie there,” I said to myself with a bit of hysteria. “Yes, yes, now I perceive the bones!” The poor woman in her agony had wandered too far, fell off, and was no more heard of. Absent-mindedly I threw a stone into the devouring water. It rippled; then the sound died away. A sinking and sickening of heart shadowed my fancies, and I left the black waters of the tarn holding the secret of “La Folle” forever and ever. James Kenney, ’31. THE PERFECT CRIME OF RONALD O. TOUCHSTONE. (A Short Story.) Impatiently and with a cruel, hard look on his withered face, Ronald Q. Touchstone paced the softly carpeted floor of his study. Painstakingly he reviewed the plans of the murder in his aged, warped brain. Every detail was perfect; there would be no flaw, no clue. For Touchstone was going to commit the perfect crime; the day had come and he was p repared. From some hidden corner of the room there sounded a light, musical chime,—four o’clock. Five hours longer, five hours filled with suspense, an¬ ticipation. Touchstone, however, was unafraid. He was not a man to rush blindly into the trap of murder. He had no reason to commit crime; it was merely an experiment, for Touchstone had been for many years a student of criminology. Often had he read lurid accounts of murderers supposedly safe from the hands of the police, who, because of some iniperfection in their plans, had become enmeshed in the toils of the law. Touchstone laughed, a harsh cackling laugh which shook his aged frame with humor¬ less mirth. He had no pity for these unfortunate men; he scorned, despised them for their stupidity. His crime would be different. He sat down, sinking into the luxurious depths of a great chair. His appearance changed, his eyes softened, his mouth had the semblance of a smile as he meditated fondly on his experiment of which he had dreamed for years. He felt satisfied with himself when he thought of his unsus¬ pecting young victim, one Wilfred Black, a mere acquaintance. Tonight at nine Wilfred Black would meet his bitterest enemy, Cantwell, in a de¬ serted section of the city on a certain street corner to settle personal dif¬ ferences. This Touchstone had learned at Black’s club, where the enmitv ' between Black and Cantwell was often a topic of discussion. Who could “THE LOST ELEVATOR.” . . . ' ' 9H - v. I ‘ ' . .1. ' ?. ' . .i-— ' . ' ' ' . j: V %S . 3 .hVZ w- ' ' f V-. ' ' V ■ !� ■ 3 t, ' . ; ’i34:5, X. ■• • ' ■■� ,-’ -K; .,K1J la. ' ■ , ' ,� ■ t’ S « «k ■■ ■ A 3 ' ,’ ' ' ■■ ' • , ... ' A_ ' .r . • ‘V-. ' .t A.: - 3t T ■■ ' ■■ :H.’ ' ' ' ■■ f. - w ' rt. • ' ’3r, ' � 4 , ' A ' . ••,;■ v ' • ..; K r 9 •■. � ■ ' ' ' “ ■:l t 4 f; ♦. ir . ■ ' ' N ' -’% ' F- I ?.iii ' “ ' «- !(ft ' l ? ., ' ■•■■■ ' ua: ' ' Vj ' ' . i v%.w- • •■ V - V i: X •- L ' i i 1 ' . ' ■4 ' ' A . it. « ff • Pfe .’t.: ■iS ' ja I ■■ laL • V 1 vijjl %K: ' J 4 : i Sii«l ' - ■ ' . ' ■. ..•J THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. 33 possibly guess that Touchstone would be lurking in a nearby alley? Who could conjecture that after a quarrel, inevitable between enemies, that it was an unknown man who shot Black, while Cantwell, frightened by the shock, fled, thinking he may become involved? Who could help but suspect Cantwell of the crime, since an automatic with Cantwell’s initials would be found close by? What more plausible than that Cantwell, after a quarrel had drawn a pistol, shot Black, and frightened, dropped his gun and fled? There would be no fingerprints, for it was November and Cantwell would wear gloves. Moreover, Ronald Q. Touchstone would remain at home all evening, for would not his neighbors see him seated near the window, reading until 9.30? His servants would be wholly unaware of his whereabouts, for it was their weekly holiday. No visitors would come to frustrate his plans; Touchstone had no friends in his old age. So engrossed had Tonchstone become in his meditation that he was surprised to hear a chime, seven o’clock. The servants had gone; he was alone. Now to arrange the final details. Ascending to the garret, which he unlocked with a key drawn from his pocket, he entered and carried down to his study a mummy. This is what his neighbors would see, sitting at the window, behind a drawn curtain. They would think it was Touchstone. From a table drawer in his room he extracted a pistol, engraved with the initials P. C., Cantwell’s initials, also the initials of the man, long dead, who had once given Touchstone the gun. He wiped it carefully with a handkerchief and slipped it into his pocket. When the time came to leave he stepped to the study, snapped on the light, and closed the door. Un¬ hesitatingly he left the house by means of the servants’ entrance, disap¬ pearing noiselessly into the moonless darkness. An hour later. Touchstone entered as he had left. He had performed his experiment, successfully. The following day he read of the murder in the newspapers; Cantwell was being held. A cackling chuckle sounded in Touchstone’s throat. At this point he heard the whirr of a high powered motor before his house. It was the police auto! It was stopping! Alarmed, at first vaguely, he glanced quickly about the room, as if for a means of escape. Fear, an un¬ controllable, overwhelming fear gripped him, as with a hunted look in his eyes he stared at the auto. In this moment of agonized suspense he pic¬ tured walls, grey prison walls,—a noose constricting about his throat. For the moment he was an animal trapped in its lair, his mind groping franti¬ cally for a plan of escape. Dully he realized there was none; he was caught. The sun streamed brightly through the window causing the black bars to cast sinister shadows on the floor of the cell. On a cot huddled the broken figure of a man, his head in his hands. Bitterly he cursed the entire world as he recalled the day—was it only yesterday?—that he had been caught. He remembered vividly the sneering laugh of Inspector Downes, when Touchstone denied his guilt,—the scrap of brown tweed that had caught on a nail as he fled after the murder. This fragment was the evi¬ dence of the police, for Cantwell had worn not brown, but grey. Touch¬ stone had been observed in the vicinity of the crime, and the fragment of tweed matched his topcoat precisely. Touchstone shook with uncontrollable emotion; springing to his feet, he shrieked in agony. His utter despair drove him into a frenzy as he paced the floor with quick, irregular steps. Suddenly he stopped, and with the appearance of a madman he glanced about him. No one was near. THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. 54 Quickly from the depths of some hidden pocket of his coat, he withdrew a knife, a long blade of steel which glistened in the sunlight. Only for a moment he hesitated, then slumped to the floor, while a pool of red grew ever larger on the prison floor. Taimi C. Helin, ’31. THE SPY. (A Short Story.) It was a dark, still night. The red moon was just coming over the hill, and it seemed to leer at the world below. A few stars were in the heavens, but they did not twinkle and dance, and they had a dull, lifeless look. A few lead-gray storm clouds hung low, and seemed to touch the tree tops. All of a sudden the stillness was broken by a crackling of twigs, and again all was still. The distant, melancholy croak of a frog was heard. A dark figure crawled silently along the ground, and then lay beneath a bush, very still. Then a second figure came into view, and the faintly luminous light of the moon showed it to be a man wearing a quaint uniform. He kicked a few bushes, and the slim, dark figure lying under the brambles held its breath. Then the soldier lifted a bottle to his lips, took a deep draught, and stumbled away. The moon, which had risen rapidly, was now covered by a cloud, and the stars had disappeared. A few snowflakes filled the air, and fell gently to the ground. The figure came from beneath the bushes and stood there, hesitant, not knowing which direction to take. It was a farmer lad. Pull¬ ing his thin jacket closer about him, he started through the woods. The snow fell quickly, and soon the ground was covered. The lad stumbled, fell, quickly rose, and went on again. At last he reached the Delaware River. He stood on the bank and glanced fearfully about him. He gazed over to the opposite shore, and then ran along the beach. At last he came to the place he was seeking, and pulled a great boat out of its hiding place. In the bottom of it were many pairs of oars. With a great effort, the lad pushed the boat into the icy waters. He picked up the heavy oars and pulled with all his might, that he might not be taken down the river. Great blocks of ice bumped his boat, and a few times he got caught between great cakes of it. He could hear the drunken revelry of the Hessian troops celebrating Christmas. His strength was nearly spent when he reached the opposite bank, and he strug¬ gled and pulled with all his feeble strength to get the boat on the shore. At last he succeeded, gasping and panting, when he heard some one com¬ ing through the trees toward him. He turned and ran stumblingly, blindly, hearing only the heavy footfalls of his pursuer. Nearer, nearer they came. Just then he was seized very roughly by the collar, and he found himself looking into the face of an American soldier. “Ha, a spy!” the soldier said. “Well, we’ll soon see about you. Come along.” He pulled the frightened lad along through woods, and then between groups of soldiers, huddled over small fires. At last they reached a tent, and the boy tried to draw away, but he was pushed insi de. Standing in the tent were three officers, one among them seeming to be of great au¬ thority. THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. 35 “What have we here, Mac?” he asked the soldier, who was standing at attention. “A spy, sir,” replied Mac, pushing the cowering lad forward. “My boy, what is your name, and what do you want?” inquired the officer. “General Washington, sir, I found him sneaking up to the camp,” interrupted Mac, and then to the boy he hissed, “Take off your hat in the presence of your superiors.” But the boy did not obey, and the soldier reached over and pulled it off. Then he stepped back in amazement, and the three officers gazed in sur¬ prise. They saw now that the “boy” was a girl, for her golden hair came tumbling down over her shoulders when her hat was pulled off. “Oh, sir, my name is Sally Atkins, and I’ve come with a message,” she cried. “The Hessians are drunk and not expecting an attack. My father sent me to tell you, for none of the men can be spared.” Then she blushed as she remembered she had on boy’s garb. But Mac did not seem to mind as he watched her admiringly, with a light in his eyes. So it was on this night, December 25, 1776, that General George Washington made his surprise attack on the unsuspecting Hessians; and it was through the help of little Sally Atkins that it was accomplished. Marion Lipman, ’31. SPECKLES: DETECTIVE. (A Short Story.) With a sigh of relief Riley shut the door of the police station behind him. “Phew! it surely is wet outside!” he exclaimed. He shrugged off his glistening black raincoat and dropped into a chair. His fellow guardian of the law. Sergeant O’Toole, lifted a pair of bored eyes to the new comer, yawned luxuriously, and asked, “Seen Speckles any¬ where?” “No, why?” “Oh, just wondering. Y’ see, the kid said he felt like doin’ a little detecting.” Riley snorted, “Humph! When doesn’t the lad feel like it?” Then he added rather seriously, “I hope he don’t stray down by the docks. I notice he’s been asking plenty of questions about the Duke’s mob lately.” O’Toole looked amused and laughingly remarked, “Dear, dear, and wouldn’t Duke be frightened if he knew Speckles was on his trail!” They both laughed uproariously but sobered abruptly as they heard a scurry of feet approaching them. The door flew open and deposited a youngster of about fifteen years of age on the threshold. “Hi, there, Sarge and Riley! Boy, ain’t it a swell night to stay in!” The two policemen warmly greeted the boy who had a big place in both their hearts. He was the owner of a pair of guileless blue eyes, a cowlick of yellow hair which he constantly tossed off his forehead, and a nose al¬ most cinnamon colored, due to its thick covering of freckles. A newsie by day, and a bosom friend of the “cops” at night, the boy had an inexhaustible store of crime news tucked away in his tow head. And he had a complex to be a detective with a really truly detective badge. Speckles sat down in 3G THE OAK, LILY AND IVY a chair beside his two friends, looked solemn, and finally piped, “Hey, Sarge, if I could ketch Duke smuggling in that dope, d’you think that maybe they’d let me be a detective?” Trying hard not to look amused, O’Toole said, “Speckles, anybody who can get the goods on that snake can have anything in the world that he wants. Maybe he would even get a bokay of flowers from the commissioner.” A light leapt into Speckles’ eyes; with an effort he controlled his ex¬ citement. Then, with an exaggerated air of indifference, he slowly put on his cap and strolled to the door. He paused with his hand on the knob and sleepily said, “Well, I guess I’ll go to bed early tonight. G’bye.” He shut the door and then O’Toole and Riley heard a fervent “Gee!” and the quick running of feet. H: In the old warehouse at the docks a man was swearing and cursing everything in sight. He was a dark, sinister figure. His small, neat mous¬ tache had earned him the name “Duke.” A squat, repellant man was flattened out against the wall, peering out into the harbor. “Any signs of it yet. Bat?” Duke growled. “No, Duke, but it ought to be here any minute now,” the man whined. Duke nervously lit another cigarette and paced up and down the room. Suddenly the man at the peep hole tensed, turned, and showed a mouthful of black stubby teeth in an evil smile. “There’s the green light,” he said. “I can just make it out coming through the fog!” Striding over, his beady eyes alight, Duke pushed the man aside and peering out into the night, growled his satisfaction. Whipping a flash-light from his pocket he flashed a signal—two long flashes and a short one. It was answered from the harbor. “Bat, take a look around outside and see if the coast is clear. See if that kid who’s been snooping around has gone out yet.” Bat departed quickly and returned in a few moments saying, “No one in sight. I guess that brat has gone home where he belongs.” Duke felt relieved, for he knew that no one was too young or old to spoil the best laid plans. He again peered out of the hole and saw that the speed boat was almost on land. “Quick, Bat, lend a hand to that boat and get the truck loaded!” The two men ran out and quickly began to transfer packages from the boat to the truck. They had succeeded in getting only a few when the look¬ out came breathlessly running toward them. “Hey, Duke! A carload of bulls are coming! The kid’s with ’em!” “The dirty—! Men, get into the warehouse.” The police car came to a grinding stop near the abandoned truck and discharged its burden of grim, purposeful men. With guns ready the police stormed the door. Using a post for a ram, they soon knocked down the aged door and rushed in. A terrific struggle ensued. Speckles, sitting pale but brave in the car, could hear the thud of fists on flesh, curses, grunts and the vicious barks of the automatics. Soon he heard Riley shout, “O’Toole, I’ve got Duke! Help me tie him up!” Leaderless, the gang surrendered, and were immediately taken to the station. As soon as the excitement had died down somewhat, Riley felt a tug on his sleeve and, looking down, saw Speckles hopefully staring up at him. “Well, my lad, what can I do for you?” THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. 37 “Do you think maybe now I can be a detective, Riley?” With tear filled eyes Riley awkwardly took off his badge and pinned it on the quickly rising and falling chest of Speckles. Gathering the slight form in his arms he said, “There now, Detective Speckles, I think it’s high time you went to bed.” Speckles gave a look at his shining badge, smiled a joyful smile, heaved a quivering sigh, and fell fast asleep. Bertha Siipola, ’31. THE MORGUE. (A Short Story.) Nightly silence had once more settled upon the old hospital of St. Mark’s. Snow-white uniforms of trained nurses going off duty gleamed in the deep¬ ening twilight. The slight form of a young student nurse could be seen darting hur¬ riedly in and out among her superiors, her blue-grey uniform standing out conspiciously against the background of moving white. Her destina¬ tion was the Superintendent’s office, where she would receive her first as¬ signment on night duty. Strange that she could not suppress this fore¬ boding which all day had continued to dampen her already depressed spirits. Reaching the office, she entered, almost colliding with Dr. Weiss, a recent addition to the hospital staff. “I beg your pardon,” he said, a sardonic smile hovering over his gray features. She shivered slightly. She could not overcome the distaste she felt for this foreign-looking man with his silky voice. Only last night she had over¬ heard two senior nurses telling of his animal experiments. A cold, crisp voice interrupted her thoughts. “Report to Room 11,” said the Superintendent. “Patient seriously ill; not expected to survive the night.” That was all. Almost in a daze she reached her charge. A penetrating silence, ghostly and chilling, had settled on the slightly darkened room—that usual formidable silence which re mains after death had paid his visit. That nightly caller was not unexpected, however, for the young student nurse had been waiting—waiting—waiting for six long hours for him to come and go, having performed his grim mission. Her horrible task, however, remained before her —to bring the body to the morgue. Oh, God, why had she come here? Those lonely brick corridors where one scarcely met a soul; those disgusting autopsies; that fiendish- looking drug addict on Ward D, whose sullen eyes, looking from a crazed brain, seemed never to leave her. How much longer could she stand it? And now—. Having performed the customary procedure, she started. Her foot¬ steps echoed hollowly along the brick corridor and yet reached her somewhat numbed senses as from a distance. No other sound did she hear, not even from the sufferers of a nearby ward. Even those would have been prefer¬ able, yes, welcome to this awful silence. Past the X-Ray room and the Apothecary, a turn to the right, and before her down a sharp incline she saw the forbidding iron door of her ghastly destination—the morgue. 38 THP] OAK, LILY AND IVY. Grasping the handle, she took a deep breath, bit her lip to keep her teeth from chattering, and pushing her gruesome burden ahead of her, she entered. A cold gust of wind met her and at that moment all sense of feeling seemed to leave her body. Dared she go any farther? One thought only consoled her and gave her courage: if she ever got out of this situation, never again would she enter the morgue or even the hospital. Back home again would be heaven and she could look back on this as a dream—a hellish nightmare. Her momentary musings were interrupted at this point. Footsteps were approaching. Nearer they came and nearer. Her heart almost stopped beating. “Why, Dr. Weiss—?” she began as she distinguished the short thickly set form and bearded face of the German physician. She stopped suddenly. Surely he must see her—he was looking directly at her. And was he laugh¬ ing? A chill ran down her spine and putting her hand quickly to her mouth to suppress a scream, she stepped aside to let him pass. To deposit the corpse and flee this cellar before the depression and gloom of the place drove her mad! The very suggestiveness of those drawers and the morbid shadows cast by them ' on the stone floor awoke in her a wild desire to scream. But she must not. She reached the drawer and was hasti¬ ly relieving herself of her burden when she heard the click of the latch. She turned terrified and saw the door closed. Running blindly, she threw’ herself against it—but too late. It did not budge. Was that a sound that reached her from the dark recesses or was her imagination playing havoc with her already shattered nerves? No, she re¬ assured herself. One does not have to fear the dead. And yet—? Yes, there it was again—distinctly this time—a low moan rising into a piercing shriek. The young student nurse heard no more. The tension had broken; her overwrought nerve system could hold no more; she slipped unconscious to the floor. Six hours later Dr. Weiss hurriedly walked along the same corridor traversed by the young nurse on the previous night. The ape, his latest experiment, must be taken from the morgue before it was discovered. It amused him to think of the surprise Dr. Thorpe would experience when he revealed to him his latest work. He reached the door and was obliged to lean heavily against it in order to free it of a piece of wood caught between it and the floor. Opening the door quickly, he stumbled over the lifeless form of a young girl. Lillian King, 31 . THE SERVANT. (A Short Story.) As the Chinese servant of Mr. Charles Graham silently pulled back the lace curtains, the bright morning sun streamed through the windows of the patio and fell upon the bed of his master. Charlie stood quietly at the head of the bed as if determining how to awaken Mr. Graham without caus¬ ing offense. He smiled pensively, his firm white teeth showing brightly against his brown skin, and then coughed gently, stepping back respectfully. Mr. Graham sighed, groaned, ran his hands over his determined-looking face and through his black hair that was now turning white from worry and THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. 39 work, and then with effort opened his eyes. He blinked, blinded by the sun, and then looked at Charlie. “Good-morning, Charlie,” he yawned, his square jaw stretching until his face was pulled into an almost triangular shape, “is it 7.15 yet?” “Good-morning, Mr. Charles,” replied Charlie, with another of those bright smiles which stretched from ear to ear. “Breakfast will be ready in fifteen minutes.” His very slight accent barely distinguished his speech from that of his master. Every morning for twelve years had these two, master and servant, greeted each other. Charlie had been in Mr. Graham’s apartment since the day he had saved Mr. Graham from drowning after he had fallen from a canoe at an amusement park. In the rescue Charlie received a terrific gash on his left wrist. Charlie had been working there, tending to the boats. Since Charlie would accept no payment, he hired him as a servant, for which position Charlie could never thank him enough. At 7.30 Mr. Graham entered his dining room and sat down to his care¬ fully prepared breakfast that Charlie had been keeping warm for him. It was ten minutes to eight when he arose and strode to the hall where Charlie stood waiting with hat, coat, and cane. He slipped into his street attire and descended the steps with the dignity of one of his fifty-eight years. As he stepped into the waiting taxi, he turned and bade adieu to Charlie. The back of the cab disappeared in the bustling traffic. The wealthy lawyer did not return until 6.30. As he climbed the stairs weari ly, the door opened, and his faithful valet stood awaiting his arrival. Charlie helped him with his garments and then announced dinner. During the meal the servant silently attended his master’s wants,—always having ready that which his master desired—working in perfect harmony with the master. That evening, as in many other evenings, Mr. Graham attended the opera. It was late when he returned, but at the door stood Charlie as he left his taxi. Thus these two men lived together, day after day, week after week, month after month, year after year. Some days they spoke but a couple of sentences; yet they understood each other perfectly and relished each other’s company. In rainy weather Charlie stood at the door with umbrella, cloak, and rubbers. Always were his master’s things in order. Always he awaited his master’s return. Although he received no verbal thanks, he knew that his efforts were realized and appreciated. His entire time was devoted to serving the man he loved. But one day Mr. Graham perceived a change in Charlie’s manner as he returned for supper. There was no difference outwardly but there was some¬ thing in Charlie’s manner that worried him. That evening Charlie was very attentive to his master and would not leave his master’s side until he had helped Mr. Graham to disrobe and had seen him safely to bed. Mr. Graham fancied that he saw tears in Charlie’s eyes as he said good-night before closing the door. In the morning there was no Charlie to awaken Mr. Graham. There was no one to serve breakfast and bid him good-day at the door. Charlie’s belongings were gone, and there was no message. Now there is a new servant at Mr. Charles Graham’s apartment. He also is Chinese and he also attends silently to Mr. Graham’s desires. But many times Mr. Graham can be seen staring into space over his newspaper. And one day last week he read of a Chinese fellow who had lived in America and who went back to China to give his life in place of that of his brother 40 THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. who had been a thief. Such was the custom in China that any member of a family might take the place of the offender. This man’s name was Charlie. Mr. Graham let his head rest against the back of his chair and was very still. His cigar went out and tears could be seen in his eyes. The newspaper stated that a terrible scar was found on the man’s left wrist. Leonard Mead, ’31. THE RING. (A Short Story.) The warm spring sun shone down on the little clearing in the Kentucky Mountains. An old, old woman, absorbing the fresh warmth of spring, reclined in a rustic wooden chair near the door of the low log house. At her feet, a child played contentedly, retained there by a rope around its waist. At inter¬ vals the mother appeared in the doorway to see if all was well with Granny Brown and the child. From time to time the other children stopped to drop early flowers, moss, and pretty pebbles in the lap of the child. Granny Brown sighed softly, or was it just the gentle breeze that swayed the pine tops and blew the whisp of snow white hair across her fine old cheek? Granny’s thoughts were in the past. She thought of her youth and up¬ bringing in the lowlands. She compared the refinements of her homo with her present surroundings, her husband’s home. How sharply they con¬ trasted, yet this home was not without refinement. They had the Bible and many of the classics. The whole family both enjoyed and made music. They were .not rude and backward as were the other mountaineers. Her mind dwelt upon that handsome youth, her husband. How fine he had looked in the gray uniform of the South on the night of his departure on a secret and dangerous mission for General Jackson! It was then that she had given him the seal ring bearing the family crest, the ring that always came back when the bearer died. All these years she had waited for his return, trusting the legend of the ring. Now she was old and tired and wanted to die, but always there came the thought of his possible return to find her gone. That is why this frail old woman had sighed as she clung so tenaciously to life. As she mused over the past she looked down at the infant playing at her feet. The child held its chubby hand towards her. There on the palm of the tiny hand lay a stone and a gilded button. The button though tarn¬ ished with age was unmistakably a button from a Confederate uniform. Granny Brown took the proffered articles in awe. As she relived that part¬ ing of so long ago, the landscape blurred and she knew no more A short while later the mother of the child found the old grandmother and had her carried into the house. The doctor was hailed the next day as he passed along the road. bedroom door softly behind him. fast, he said. “She won’t last many days longer.” this time,” answered the young woman as she bent over the hot fire, She s waiting for the ring, you know.” IHE OAK, LILY AND IVY. 41 The doctor sensed a story and sat down to listen. The mother told the tale of the ring. She told how it had come back before and of their con¬ viction that it would come back now. The doctor smiled skeptically as his mind reverted to his case. “Was there anything that would have caused this shock that Granny received?” “No, I reckon not,” she replied. “Except perhaps those things she was holding in her hand. There was a stone and an old button held tight in her hand when I found her. I kept them so you could see them.” The doctor frowned as he looked at the objects in his hand. “The button is off a Confederate uniform and this stone happens to be the first finger joint of a human being. Where did they come from?” The woman peered over his shoulder at them. “I wonder where she got them. I’ll ask the boys.” The boys told of the cave where they had found the articles to give to the child. At the mention of the cave, an idea came to the doctor’s head. He dis¬ missed it with a shrug but his interest was aroused. He realized the pos¬ sibilities of the cave in the mountains. Begging a spade and a lantern, he followed the boys to the cave. He began to dig around in the damp depths of the cave. Towards evening he came upon what he had been looking for under a heap of gravel evidently piled there by a cave-in of long ago. The discovery consisted of the skeleton of a human hand, some tattered rags, and a button to match the one al¬ ready found. Then the doctor discovered what he had hoped for. He had based his hope on a mere uniform button but his surmise had been correct. There still encircling a naked bone lay a tarnished gold ring bearing a coat of arms. He made his way hurriedly toward the cabin fearing that he would be too late. On the way he removed the tarnish as best he could. When he entered the bedroom softly, the woman was leaning over the bed to catch Grainny’s faint breathing. Then he was not too late to set her mind at ease. As he watched, her eyes opened, and he held the ring towards her. With a vSmile she took it and pressed it to her cheek. Then she closed her eyes to eternal peace. WiNNiFRED Granger, ’31. DISCARDED. (A Short Story.) “Not fit for active service,” said the lieutenant. “I guess you’re right, sir,” answered the gray-headed sergeant. “I t’s a shame he has to go.” “Can’t be helped,” said the lieutenant. “He’s worthless.” “Well, you’re the boss,” replied the sergeant as he took the halter of the object of the discussion, an old black horse. “Come, old boy,” he said. “It’s a h— of a way to pay off an old friend,” he muttered. The horse seemed to understand the situation; he was going into the discard. He was to be pensioned off to a rest farm to spend the rest of his days. An easy time for some but hard for him, for he came from ancestors 42 THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. who had perished in battle, not dying in their beds. It was disgrace which had befallen him. Memories of years of active service, of long rides, hard fought battles, and of great hardships he had undergone in the patrolling of the Mexican border and elsewhere came back to him. He thought of France and of the Great Drive. He remembered how sweet the hay had tasted after a tire¬ some day and how quickly his lowered spirits revived after the sergeant had rubbed him down. At times he had wished it was all over and he had nothing to do. To be relieved from his strenuous duties would have been a joy but now that the time had arrived, he felt hurt. If he had a chance, he’d show them! He was indignant for the moment; then his head drooped in discouragement. It was all over for him. The sergeant saddled him for the last time and rode him to Johnson’s Ranch near the border. Easy days had come to him, days spent in the green meadows doing nothing. Luxurious days, yet the thrill of life seemed gone. He was well treated by everyone, but he missed the long rides with his friend the sergeant. He missed the sergeant’s caresses and those daily conferences which were so dear to him. The sergeant, it seemed, had forgotten him completely. All connections with the old life had gone, but with its passing, the craving for it came on. Rumors had frequently startled the border ranches, and now they were at it again. The border was in a ferment over the raids of Torribio Lopez, a Mexican bandit. Stories of his daring and cruelty were repeated up and down the border. The rumors turned to grim reality at Johnson’s Ranch one morning just before dawn, when the inhabitants of the ranch were startled by the sound of rushing hoofs and shots. The men of the ranch rushed out of the buildings to meet the invaders, and they were cut down quickly by Lopez’ men. One cowhand, however, managed to escape to the stables. He seized the first horse at hand. It was Old Ben, the army horse. Ben had been startled from his dreams by the shots. His ears pricked up at that inter¬ esting, but not unusual sound. He was young again; new life flowed through his veins. The cowhand leaped on to his back and Ben with a lunge went through the open barn door. He bowled over a rider who attempted to stop him. Shots whistled by his ears but he plunged on. He was in active service once more. It was the life he loved and the thrills that he craved. He thundered down the trail with the bandits in pursuit. His rider urged him on and he gave his best. The bandits were soon left far behind. Mile after mile he galloped until his very heart seemed stone, but he kept on. He was going home to the sergeant. He was returning from the dis¬ card! It was noon before he reached the patrol station and by that time he was about done. His sides were lathered with foam and his knees were caving in, yet there was a light of happiness in his eyes. His rider was also weary. Men rushed from the station to meet him. The sergeant grasped his head. The others seized the rider. Old Ben fell to the ground, eased by the sergeant, with head extended. His breath came in sobs, then slowly ceased. Andrew Palm, ’31. THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. 43 RUSSIA. A question which at this time is interesting countless people in all corners of he world is, “What will become of Russia?” Indeed, this question is by no means to be dealt with lightly, for Russia seems to be on the road to becoming an important nation, if not one of the w orld powers. We per¬ haps hesitate to believe that that vast country will ever take its place among the important nations of the world, but it is not at all improbable. Russia’s resources are extensive and varied, and include all those which contribute toward the wealth of any nation. Her vast forests produce huge quantities of timber and wood-pulp; her mines yield gold, platinum, silver, coal, and iron; her soil is rich in petroleum; and her fields produce great crops of wheat. The Russian government is carrying into effect an am¬ bitious plan whereby, in five years, it hopes to have gained for Russia eco¬ nomic and industrial stability. Factories are being built, railroads extended, modern facilities such as electricity and telegraph are being introduced into all parts of that huge country, and foreign commerce is being established. At present her government has hardly emerged from its experimental stage, for it has undergone such a radical change since the overthrow of aristo¬ cratic powxr that a long period of time will doubtless elapse before it is established on a firm footing. Russia could be great, and it may be great in the future. Now, however, the progress of the country is just beginning, and since its territory is so great and its industries so varied, the country must fight against disorganization, and eliminate it entirely in order to progress. Disorganization is the greatest fault of the Russian people. They do not work for a common cause, and they do not strive for a mutual goal. Always, there has been a great number of people w ' ho do not sympathize with the government. There are agitators who go about attempting to gain the support of the peasantry for some cause, and they often succeed because of the uneducated state of the Russian peasants. Therefore it seems evident that the first step which the Soviet govern¬ ment should take is the wider education of the peasantry. These people should be taught not only cultural studies, but also the aims and purposes of their government. They must be taught to think intelligently, and to analyze the problems of their country. In this way, and in this way only, can the Soviet government hope to win the confidence and sympathy of its people, and gain their support in its experiment. Slowly, Russia is es¬ tablishing schools, but it is not giving the students the freedom of their thoughts and opinions. It seems that these people are forbidden to think in anything but Soviet terms, or to discuss any form of government but their own. This is not freedom, and in order to succeed the people of a nation must have liberty, for is not liberty man’s most cherished right? Their standard of living must be raised and their working conditions improved, for they are in an almost wretched state of civilization. They are practically savages, for they have no knowledge of culture, no religion, and no true home life. The Soviet believes in atheism and the Russian govern¬ ment has abolished the Church in its attempt to do away with religion. Atheism has never contributed toward the success of an individual, and without religion it seems impossible that a nation should succeed. Even the home life of the individual has been wiped out in this country of new ideas, and families have often been entirely separated. By doing this, Russia has ruined the very foundations of her existence and the basis for a happy, contented people. The opinion of many is that Russia must restore the 44 THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. Church and the home, the true shrines of a prosperous nation, for without them Russia will remain as it is, a country with a low state of civilization, an unsound government, and a disorganized people. This country, which has made itself the cynosure of doubtful eyes throughout the world as a result of its mode of living and the aims of its government, is a land where there is no opportunity. There is no chance for advancement from the low position in life for the Russian citizen. Un¬ like practically all other nations, particularly the United States, a person can have no more ambition in life than to eke out a living from his labors, no matter how great his ability may be. Russia will remain forever a minor nation if the cultural education of her people is neglected. Although it may gain industrial and political sta¬ bility, it will never be enabled to gain social stability, which is such an im¬ portant asset to a nation, unless she restores the basic foundations of a cultural life, the Church and the home. For these are the institutions with¬ out which no country has yet procured prominence, and without which, in this modern age of understanding and knowledge, no country will advance beyond mediocrity. Taimi C. Helin, ’31. TEMPTATION. To be a slave to temptation is much easier than to be the master of your will. On all sides lie the messengers of that crafty beast. Temptation. The traps are so carefully constructed that no one, not even those who are caught in its meshes, realizes their depth and power of destruction. These same pitfalls have been laid for the youth of every generation. Some claim that there are greater temptations to-day than ever before, but they are partially wrong. Of course, there are the temptations to break the eighteenth amendment, to spend nights on wild parties, and to steal and murder in defiance of the laws of God and man. However, did not our ancestors have to face and overcome temptations like these? Is not each generation a repetition of the preceding one in regard to the sin and vices which it has? Does not each passing generation believe that the younger generation is the most wicked that ever lived? Were our grandmothers and grandfathers different from us because they wore different clothes? Even though all these things are true, still the youth of this and suc¬ ceeding generations must be wary of the pitfalls or serious misfortune will overtake them. For Temptation like Scylla and Charybdis, those monsters of ancient fables, will crush its unsuspecting victim without mercy, and pass on to another wayward youth. Dorothy Phillips, ’31. TALKING PICTURES. Pictures have always been a favorite recreation for all classes of people. They have been enjoyed by the young and old of both sexes. The advent of the talking pictures has increased interest of the public in seeing films for amusement. Synchronization has revolutionized the picture business to THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. 45 such a great extent that it is now one of the leading industries in the United States. Talking pictures in themselves are a wonderful achievement of science, but they are not without serious limitations. Thousands of deaf people have been deprived of a beneficial recreation since the development of syn¬ chronized films. Talking pictures are a bore to the deaf, who do not enjoy looking at a film the plot of which is mainly lost to them. Those who have not been blessed with the sense of hearing will have to seek other forms of amusement for their recreation. Another group who have not been benefited by the talking pictures is that composed of thousands of musicians in this country and in other parts of the world. Many of them have lost their positions. Theatres that formerly engaged orchestras to furnish the musical accompaniment to their features have discarded their bands for canned music. Again, many of the old pantomime stars have been cast aside for newer talent in the “talkies.’ The stories of many of the new pictures have been criticized adversely, a large percentage of them being gangster films with law-breakers for heroes. This kind of story makes a lasting impres sion on the mind of the child. These films therefore have a tendency to demoralize the child and to lead him to believe that a gangster’s life would be thrilling and a suitable career for him. They will aid in making him an undesirable citizen of the country in which he resides. Unless these defects can be remedied, synchronized pictures cannot be regarded as a satisfying contribution to American life, John Fontecchio, ’31. OPPORTUNITY. Do you know how to become successful? No? You say there is no chance? “No chance” has always been the excuse of those who fail. They are the ones who tell you they have never had an opportunity like others and that they have had no luck in life. People of the right sort do not make excuses; they do not go about complaining that all the good places and occupations are taken. We find that in most cases it is not men favored with wealth but the poor lads who do great things. These poor boys do not whine but keep pushing ahead; they do not wait for opportunity to come to them, but make it themselves. It is said that Alexander the Great, on being asked if he had a chance to take a famous city, replied, “Opportunity! Why, I make opportunity.” Lincoln is a favorite example of a man who rose from poverty to a posi¬ tion of influence and honor through his own efforts. He found himself in a log cabin in the backwoods with no comforts, merely the necessities of life. He looked for no one’s aid; he helped himself. What if the complaining youth of to-day should have to surmount the obstacles that confronted “Honest Abe”? Yet it is upon such adversity that is built the finest type of manhood. How inspiring it is to study the history of the successful men of the different ages! We learn of their struggles, the burdens to be borne, then the final triumph. These people had will and energy. They did not wait for opportunity. They were workers and were alert for chances. They saw them. 46 THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. The trouble with most people is that they believe that opportunity is something great and unusual, and they look to far off for their chances. We forget that the simplest things are in the end the greatest. No opportunity? In a land where success awaits anyone who has the grit and backbone to fight his way in life? Always remember that your achievements depend wholly upon yourself. You must make your oppor¬ tunities. No opportunity? My dear friends, forget this excuse of th e weak. Work and hope. Work and success will be yours! Astred Larson, S1. NATURE. The solemnity and grandeur of nature in its primitive state is awe-in¬ spiring. In vain do expeditions in the tropics try to bring back to the civilized world a concept of the untrammeled beauties they have perceived. In these moist, humid lands, Nature can indulge all her whims and run riot, producing a dazzling, bewildering result—the jungle. One cannot imagine the majestic trees with their interlacing boughs, the thick grasping vines, and the beautiful nameless flowers. They must be seen. We can only ruminate and sigh over these beauties for the desire to feast one’s eyes on them and to drink in the heavenly perfumes of the flowers can never be a reality. We must content ourselves with nature in a more sedate mood. We have, however, our parks, mountains and spots of interest plus the convenient modes of travel so sadly lacking in the jungle. It is very helpful to go to some quiet retreat reserved from the rush of humanity to rest the mind from petty cares and to whet one’s apprecia¬ tion of beauty. Nature also has a soothing effect on rasped nerves and puts new hope into discouraged spirits by this brief spiritual contact with the Creator. The magnitude of Nature’s works also acts as a measuring stick to man which shows him properly his infinitesimal part in the scheme of things. If all people were keen observers of nature, they would be far happier. The natural growth of all things, their blossoming into full beauty, and the gradual waning into death, is a revelation to all and teaches the priceless lesson of the futility of all small, mean characteristics for we, too, must some day pass away to our day of reckon ing. Bertha Siipola, ’31. SMILES. There is one gesture of human beings which has aroused a deep in¬ terest in me. It is their smiles. Has it ever occurred to you that these vary in themselves? Each individual carries, for me, a different smile. They differ in their cause. First of all, we think of Baby who smiles very often. He possesses the smile of innocence; his pleasure is derived from his true little heart. Take a lad of about ten and he will always have what may be called the toothpaste smile.” His thoughts are mainly devoted to outdoor sports. THE OAK, LILY AND IVY 47 We see the young maiden, who is passing from girlhood to young-ladyhood. She will present you with a sort of a cunning smile. Life is still a rose for her without the thorns of later years. But if we desire reality, let us turn to the older generation. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred, folks will smile against their will. There is the sneering smile from one who hates you, yet is too proud to make it known. The individual who will force a smile upon his lips, as you tell him your story, but who rather wishes to be left alone. The enemy’s smile, which carries a deadly sting behind it, is very seldom recognized. The stranger’s smile, whom we meet upon the street, which reveals a trait of kindness in his soul. The tired smile of Mother after a weary day of labor, as she listens to your adventures. Your older sister’s anxious and hearty smile as you ask her for advice. The gossip’s smile as she watches from her window as you are passing by. Father’s smile as he looks at Baby. The smile of the sick as you stand by their bedside and offer them your sympathy. But the greatest smile of all is that of old age, a smile illuminated by truth. If they could only tell you what life really is and know that you would believe them! Martha Molinari, ’31. A GLIMPSE OF PARADISE. In this world there are many lovely things, but the most beautiful, in my estimation, is music. When I speak of music, I refer to real music, and not this “canned noise” over which many go mad. I think of selections composed by the master geniuses such as Beethoven, Mozart, Bach, Chopin, and many others who have immortalized music. However, though one may master the technique of music, if it has not expression, the feeling within, it lacks the most important quality for ex¬ pression is what mak es music so delightful. The fine musician is able to express his thoughts, his very soul in music. Now he is joyous, now sad; he carries you away on a sea of emotion. The poignancy of it all seems to tear at your heart. It is a feeling that is in¬ describable. Sometimes, while listening to the strains of a violin, the beautiful tones of an organ, or the melodious chords of a piano, the thought comes to me that music is too beautiful for this earth, that it must be just a little glimpse of paradise. Mary Ianzito, ’31. THE STUDY OF HISTORY. Every student is compelled to study history in his High school career. The law provides that at least one year must be devoted to this important subject. During the World War it became evident that the soldiers had only a vague idea of the history of their country. They did not connect Washington with the Revolutionary War and his term as President, but as the hero of 48 THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. the cherry tree episode. Lincoln was only a vague, even if admirable figure in their minds. The other great statesmen had not left any impression upon them at all. They realized that unusual events and men shaped the destiny of our nation, but they had no knowledge of what the events were and who were the unusual men. The soldiers not only had a hazy recollection of the history of their government, but they doubtless did not have a very good idea of how their government is run in the present day. Many of them did not waste their time voting when they could spend their time more entertainingly. Con¬ sequently, interest in America and what it stands for was lost. These facts became more and more evident. America realized her danger and at her first opportunity she passed laws compelling High school students to take history as one of their required studies. This plan has proved successful. It has inspired patriotism and loyalty in the hearts of American boys and girls and has fostered in them a love and understand¬ ing of their native land. Jennie Kosciak, ’31. THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. For years and years, large numbers of people have picked up the Oak, Lily and Ivy to delight in the amusing and interesting articles con¬ tained therein. Very few readers, however, have ever paused to consider the true significance of this beautiful title. The oak—with what great pleasure we observe its nobility in all its ruggedness! For many years this mighty tree has stood as a great example of strength. Enduring strong winds and rains, it remains firm and unmoved. To the overpowering axe of the hunter alone, this mighty tree yields when it is time to render its services to mankind. Be he on land or on sea, man owes to the oak a great debt. The sweet, white, waxen lily against a background of dark green leaves is admired by all. Although its services to man do not equal those of the oak, we love it all the more. In all its sweet loveliness the lily veritably symbolizes purity. Observe the shining, green leaves of the ivy creeping along the side of a building. What thoughts enter your mind? Try to pull olf one of its sprouts and see how futile your efforts are against the tenacity of the ivy. Now compare the oak, the lily, and the ivy to some of your intimate associates. There are some that resemble the mighty oak—sthong and self- reliant. These make good leaders and are most likely to succeed in life. Then there are the White lilies—generally women. With all the purity of lilies these shine until their call is answered. Theirs are the faithful deeds on earth. Besides, there is the tenacious type. These people have the cor¬ rect ideal of righteousness and hold fast to it. An attempt to sway them into the evils of life is futile. They achieve success and fame. Evelyn Pinardi, ’31. Teacher:—“James why didn’t you learn your history lesson to-day?” James:—“ ’Cause you said yesterday that ‘history repeats itself’ and I thought the same lesson would do again.”—Ex. M. H. S. ORCHESTRA, 1930—1931. M. H. S. BASEBALL TEAM, 1931 Jfi ' ;T ■ V V ., - v .-o Vl. V ■: -■- :-. ■; v- ' ; Vv ' ’ -‘. . . ' V iiKrW. - :- , . - •V .: , • ' ■ 4 ,, ' , ‘S ' - • ' ' ' ' -rimi ' - .. ,. 1iv, ' ' - .V • ' ■ w-. 1 ' 4 r • ’ , f ' � - • V, ' ' - t • ; .- ‘v rv; ..- •. . ' j ' ?.►.•• ' ' . ' - . I THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. 49 EVENTIDE. When each long day is dying, And twilight shadows fall. My study light is gleaming Across the table small. Although the house is silent. Without are eerie cries; And I harken to the night calls, As I close my weary eyes. I hear the robins chirping A last farewell to Day, And my tired heart grows lighter As I listen to their lay. And when slumber overtakes me. All my dreams are free from care, ■ As with all of God’s dear creatures. Sleep, the balm of life, I share. Pauline E. Smith, ’31. THE DANCE. The orchestra is playing now A tender throbbing song; A look bespeaking happiness Comes o’er the dancing throng. A quiv’ring sigh escapes the lips Of those whose love proved false. But most thoughts are of joy and bliss In this alluring waltz. All faces lose their weary look; Life is a heav’nly trance. This momentary hour of peace May be why we love to dance! Bertha Siipola, ’31. LIFE. The flowers bloom so fair, so fair. Perfumed breezes fill the air; Our youth is blooming like a flower Sweeter, lovelier every hour. 50 THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. The flowers fade so soon, so soon, The chill wind blows o’er hill and dune; Without a warning youth has flown. And left us facing life alone. The flowers die, alas, alas! Snow falls o’er the fields of grass. We, too, must die just like t he flower. When death grips us with austere power. Olive Watson, ' ’31. I WONDER WHY? I wonder why the flowers must die and birds that sing take to the wing when winter’s nigh? I wonder why the leaves must fall and Mother Nature must recall creations which so pleased the eye when winter’s nigh? I wonder why we cannot send a plea to God that He may end the warmth of the blue summer sky when winter’s nigh? Bruna Pagnini, ’31. THE OPTIMIST. Who greets the world with a sunny smile. Who makes you laugh by force. Who makes life seem so worthwhile? It’s the optimist, of course! Who meets you ’mid a rocky path. Who drives your cares away. Who makes you see the aftermath? It’s the optimist, alway! Whose comfort makes the bitter sweet. For whose friendship you insist. Whose words you always gaily greet? You know, it’s the optimist! Eva Piccinotti, ’31. THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. 51 MOTHER. Your Jove is like a window A-shining in the night, That leads the way to Home, Sweet Home And sets the heart aright. Your heart is like a beacon, A haven from all care; Though all the world be dark and gray, Love waits and watches there. Emerson Robinson, ’31. VIEWS. The people are tilting back their heads; All eyes watch the plane on high. The sun glints bright on shiny wings; The plane is the master of the sky! The pilot looks down with a scornful eye: What fools men are not to fly! His earthly cares are left behind; He who lives well shouldn’t fear to die. He banks his plane in a swooping curve; He dips it sharply, then up again. What care he if his watchers squirm? The sky is his and there he’ll remain! The people watch the receding speck; They shake their heads and sadly say, “That fool will surely break his neck; The ground is where I intend to stay.” The people plod on with eyes downcast; They see only the gloom and the murk. The pilot smiles as he flits through the clouds. For him life has a humorous quirk. Bertha Siipola, ’31. TO MUSIC. How sad would life be without music. How empty the world without song! And what would Youth do without music For what is Youth’s life but a song? 52 THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. For Youth loves its rhythmical throbbing Its beating, mad, pulsating sway. Life of its sorrows they’re robbing By dancing the long hours away. And the lover who woos a fair maiden Sings a song to tell of his love; When his heart is so heavily laden. He cannot in words speak his love. To old age it brings mem’ries of childhood Recalling some long-ago day. When sorrow was unknown to childhood. When grandmother was Queen of the May. But Youth best enjoys the sweet sadness Or the joyful, glad note of a song; For what would Youth do without music? What is Youth’s life but a song? Taimi Helin, ’31. THE WHITE BIRCH TREES. Rondeau The white birch trees now stately grow And marshal forces in a row. We watch them as they hurry by, Their green tops tossed against the sky. They nod and bow, bend to and fro. They seem like folk of long ago, A-talking and a-whispering so. I love them as they dream and sigh The white birch trees. They seem so still when falls the snow; ’Neath crystal ice they all bow low And seem to pray to God on high To help them reach up to the sky. That’s why I love them all, you know. The white birch trees! WiNNiFRED P. Granger ’31. THE CURFEW BELL. Day with all its glamor darkens into night; Hills become strange shadows in the fading light; Sunset’s gorgeous colors change to deeper hue; Luna mounts her lofty throne in the twinkling blue. THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. 53 From the ruined Church tower peals the curfew bell, Mournfully and slowly, tolling out day’s knell; Herdboys lead their cattle, straggling o’er the lea; From their fields the toilers come home wearily. Hushed the songster’s warbling by his leafy nest. As the solemn curfew rings the hour of rest; From the dark’ning marshes cries the whippoorwill; Darkness—sleep—and quiet—the curfew bell is still. Jane Streeter, ’31. SHIP OF DREAMS. I sail upon my ship of dreams O’er wide spread emerald seas. It seems That sorrow has been left behind As I set out with hope to find A harbor filled with sweet content. The things for which we all were meant. I sail at sunset o’er the sea; The gold of hope reflects on me. The crimson lights my sail and fades And leaves my heart in utter shade. My soul had hoped too soon to find The isle of rest and peace of mind. 4 I watch till light fades from the sky For some cloud castle tossed on high. I watch the full moon slowly rise And stars that gaze at me like eyes. The wind is whispering through the sail That in a search alone I’ll fail. My ship of dreams has come to rest; My heart and soul have met the test. Alone we cannot hope to find Both happiness and peace of mind. It is through helping folks, you see. Our happiness complete will be. WiNNiFRED Granger, ’31. Milford High has lads untold With cars that traffic hold. They bump up the road Like any old toad “To Nipmuc or bust,” is their code! M. L. lANZITO. 54 THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. Ttigbt The following are imitations of various “airy trifles” by Stephen Leacock and others read in class. IN DEFENSE OF MEN! No “Oak, Lily and Ivy” would be complete without some mention made of men. From pure observation I feel that I want to expatiate on the un¬ bearable male. In previous years the unmerciful accusations of my sex against these superior creatures have been beyond my comprehension. At last a female has found something worthy of comment in them. Their generosity and cleverness alone would inspire a poet. Have not you women ever attended a dance alone? No? Then you are missing a rare treat. Toward the end of the evening, provided it isn’t raining and the walk to your home isn’t too far, a generous male will approach and ask if you don’t care to go home with him. The girl, generally hungry, says, “Yes,” and thus you proceed to appease your appetite. Orangeade is generally the one and only course, but if you are particularly lucky, peanuts accompany the drinks. This is what is termed “the end of a perfect day.” If you own a car, an obliging male will show you the country, provided the gas tank is well filled. As in evervthing, there are variant types of this species, but as a whole the men are clever. Conversation is never lacking in a man. He has what is termed “a line,” which improves remarkably with time and practice until it sounds rather convincing. To me the most delightful trait in men is their lack of conceit. It is true they take twenty minutes to select a tie and twenty more to adjust it to the correct angle. Then they labor hard for another half hour to get every hair in place, and then begins a round of all the mirrors in the domicile to be sure they look charming. In a woman we would call this sort of thing conceit, but for a man such a term would be preposterous. It is an accepted fact that men are the essence of truthfulness. Proof of this statement is found in the following example. A group of females gath¬ ered together to discuss political situations, etc., happen to mention Jack. Helen tells all he said to her the previous night, and ninety-nine out of a hundred times it is the exact words he has told the rest of the girls. Why, truthful—of course! My dear sisters, we do not appreciate these magnificent men. Let us make, this day, a resolution to pay homage to these superior creatures who may some day chance to look with favor upon us poor unfortunates. Lavelle M. Macuen, ’31. ON GRADUATION ATTIRE. Graduation being a function that comes but once in a life time, I am of the opinion that we should make a great impression on our audience on this occasion. We leave the age of childhood and school and enter into the age of maturity; we should depart from this stage of life in a very dignified manner. THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. 55 The thought of having blue serge suits for habiliment upon the occasion I discard entirely from my consideration. I proscribe them as being too vulgar for the occasion. They have been worn for many generations by our predecessors. We should shatter traditions and customs, and wear some¬ thing modern and ritzy. A suit that would be most fitting for this brilliant function would be a blue serge jacket and white flannel trousers. To com¬ plete our appearance we should also wear a small Barrymore moustache. Think, boys, what a hit you would make with the female audience! Why, with proper advertising the house would be sold out to the fairer sex. If you do not favor this outfit, I will submit another for your examina¬ tion. Another outfit that would gratify the audience would be a tuxedo. To complete the outfit I suggest that we wear a Van Dyke beard. For those who have not yet been honored with the gift of the beard I suggest that they wear monocles. The girls should wear evening gowns with trains. These costumes would make a very beautiful appearance and would also be a complete novelty. I certainly hope that my suggestions will be adopted. John L. Fontecchio, ' 31. CLASS MEETINGS. ‘‘NOTICE! Senior class meeting to-day in Room One!” There it is again. I never saw that notice to fail on a pleasant day, but the staying in isn’t so bad. It’s missing out on the doughnuts at the school store. By the time the seniors get out, they are all gone, and are we hungry? I stand in the window and watch the fellows from the underclasses take them all, and then they stand under the windows and stow them away. Some times I think they’re trying to tease us into going out and taking them away from them. But let’s get back to the meeting. The following is about the usual oc¬ currence every recess during the last month of school. Mr. Quirk: “Quiet, please! This meeting was called to settle the diffi¬ culties on the kind of flowers the girls are to wear to commencement. Pro¬ ceed, Mr. President.” Mr. President: “Has anybody anything to say on the subject?” Student: “I move that, since the girls must wear the flowers and also pay for them, the girls alone be let vote for them.” About ten girls: “I second the motion.” Mr. President: “All those in favor.’Tis a vote.” Restlessness among the boys. The doughnuts are going fast! Mr. Quirk: “We shall now have the report of the flower committee.” Mr. President: “Will the flower committee report now?” The flower committee reports. Student: “I move we accept sweet peas in a bouquet. Violets shrivel up too quickly, roses don’t go very well with my new dress and anyway I think sweet peas are quite appropriate.” Girl friends: “I second the motion.” (In chorus.) Mr. President: “Those in favor.’Tis a vote.” Mr. Quirk: “If that’s all, we’ll adjourn, Mr. President.” 56 THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. Mr. President: “If that’s all, some one make a motion to adjourn.” Student: “I move we adjourn.” Girls: “I second it.” Mad rush for the door ensues and as I expected, the doughnuts are gone—also the recess! Robert A. Craddock, ’31. POCKETBOOKS. Temples of the universally worshipped god, Money, tightly clasped pos¬ session of poor laborer and rich idler—the pocketbook! Did you ever stop to think in what high esteem is held this most precious container? The mere fact that it is so closely associated with the world’s most desired gift is enough to place it among the earth’s valuable possessions. There is hardly anyone who does not own a pocketbook, no matter to what degree the owner is able to fill it. Although pocketbooks differ in size, shape, color, or design, the only characteristic which seems to concern the owner is the fatness—or the flatness of his own pocketbook. Yet what a secret the pocketbook keeps from the outside world! Who can tell, by look¬ ing at a closed pocketbook whether it contains some precious bills or just a few unimportant coins? Some ostentatiously dressed person’s pocketbook may contain just a few coins whose joyous jingle when shaken will deceive some people, while the pocketbook of some plainly dressed man or woman may contain a number of valuable greenbacks which do not always proclaim their worth in bulkiness or sound. So let us pay tribute to this gay deceiver who can, though empty, provide us with a bold front! Bruna Pagnini, ’31. GRATITUDE. Having nothing to do one day but several chapters in history, two acts of Macbeth for English, and ten pages of stenography, I suddenly conceived the idea of performing a very noble and generous act—tidying my brother’s desk. Now, dear readers, please do not misconstrue my intentions, for I assure you they were of the best. M ' y sole reason for desiring to I ' earrange his desk was because of its untidiness, and not, as I was afterwards so basely ac¬ cused, because of curiosity. What chaos met my eyes when I opened that desk! But resolutely and with a never-say-die spirit, I plunged into work, willing to sacrifice a whole afternoon to accomplish my purpose. I found everything from tacks to a silk handkerchief. The former did not interest me quite as much as the latter, for the handkerchief was unmis¬ takably a feminine handkerchief. It wasn’t mine. Of that, I was positive; and furthermore, just why would he keep my handkerchief in his desk? It was the prettiest shade of blue and so dainty! Cherchez la femme! and search, in my mind, I did for the name of the owner, but to no avail. I completed my task and surveyed it with pleasure. Such orderliness! I felt fully repaid for my efforts except for one thing. To whom did that THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. 57 handkerchief belong? Not that I was inquisitive, but I felt that it might be¬ long to a designing female, and, of course, it was my duty to protect him. I was just brushing an imaginary flake of dust from the desk when I heard someone bellow, “What’s the idea of upsetting my desk?” If, dear reader, that lack of appreciation didn’t furnish a just motive for murder, what would? To think after hours of toil that I had spent with no compensation whatever, and then to be shouted at and told that I was upsetting his sacred desk! Deciding to play my trump card (which, by the way, I am always play¬ ing at the wrong moment) I answered, holding aloft the blue silk handker¬ chief, “To whom does this belong?” I expected to see his countenance fill with terror and guilt as they do in the “movie thrillers.” Instead, he snatched the handkerchief and shaking his finger at me said, “Aha, so this is why you clean my desk, to pry into my private affairs!” They say that women always have the last word, but I must be an ex¬ ception. In order to save my hearing, perhaps my life, I vanished. For days and even weeks afterwards, I was persecuted with, “Where’s this paper? Where in the world did you put the green book?” This is what you term “gratitude” and to think that he wouldn’t even tell me where or from whom he received this handkerchief! I have bribed, even pleaded, but it is of no use. He refuses to tell me; and the only reason for wanting to know is to do him another good turn. However, I fear that it shall always remain one of those unsolvable mysteries—for me. Mary L. Ianzito, ’31. ON LAUGHS. Consider the laugh. On studying it in detail, we first note that the person about to laugh goes through several processes. First a light appears in the eyes, then a slight quivering is perceived at the extreme corners of the mouth while the torso begins to quake silently. Finally comes the laugh—a succession of staccato noises which increase and diminish in vol¬ ume. This is the usual process of laughter, but there is a variety of other kinds. For instance, there is the laugh that begins explosively, continues for a brief period, dimishes, and finally ends with a weak “tee, hee.” Then there is the laugh which is nerve-racking—the giggle. This is generally produced when two sweet young things are put together with noth¬ ing but boys, parties, and clothes in their feather brains. This so-called giggle is incessant and an admonition generally acts as an incentive to further giggling. The matter now becomes rather serious as the two girls rock from side to side, holding their sides and emitting shrieks which are a choky mix¬ ture of tears and laughter, while the eyes of both are perilously near to over¬ flowing. A sad case of hiccups and crying is to be coped with unless the two are separated or soundly berated. There are too many varieties of laughs to discuss in detail; the tender, catchy laugh of lovers, the whole-hearted laugh at a joke, the cackle of the aged, and the sneering laugh, commonly known as the horse-laugh. Laughing is one thing almost every human can do, and who can resist a teasing, “Aw, come on and smile!” Bertha A. Siipola, ’31. 58 THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. A FRIENDSHIP BROKEN. It does not seem possible that a friendship of three years could be so easily broken. For three years we have been together attending dances and very often came to school together on stormy days. She is very kind, always carrying my books and often she takes my coat also. She is very well known by some of the boys and girls who have accompan ied us on various excursions to places of amusement. In spite of this, she is often snubbed when her superiors are present. I admit she is rather old and her paint ' s not so good, but when the others aren’t around, she answers well enough. Practically any student will accom¬ pany her in a, pinch even though she makes a great deal of noise and balks at being hurried as well as groans at being stopped. She is an expensive companion and because of her I have spent a great deal of money on gasoline but I am not objecting to the expense of keeping her, for we have our good times. But soon we must part, for model T Fords are out of date. Alva Elliott, ’ 81 . DONKEYS. Often you have heard the expression “Oh what a donkey!” Maybe you have used it yourself to express your disgust at somebody’s stupidity, or perhaps some one has said it to you; so you know how very effective it is. But how very unjust we humans are in using the word “donkey” as a term of insult or derision. For, indeed, a donkey, when analyzed, is far from being what the name, as we use it, implies. He really is a philosopher. Watch a donkey standing in the shade of some tree. You notice that he waves his ears and gazes straight ahead with a pensive air. Who knows but he may be ruminating things of deep and serious import. The donkey has a characteristic which many humans lack, especially the men. That worthy characteristic is patience, particularly of enduring pain. When a donkey is being annoyed by some insect or the like, instead of kick¬ ing up his hind legs and whining he merely blinks his eyes and waves his ears. People who don’t understand donkeys say they are stubborn. They are not. They are merely being honest with themselves. When he stops, or more commonly known as balks, he stops merely because he is tired and must rest before he can go on. The chances are that if left alone, he will go on after he has rested, and although this may require a great deal of patience, it is a better method than goading him on. After one has analyzed the donkey thus, he ceases to be the implication of stupidity and stubbornness and becomes the model of patience, honesty and thoughtfulness. Eva Trotta, ’ 31 . THE PROBLEM OF RECESS. Ladies and Gentlemen: Fqr a great length of time the following sub¬ ject has troubled me, and of late, yes even haunted my very dreams—the disadvantages, the consequences and evils of our long recess period. THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. 59 And here the question arises: In how many advantageous ways, more beneficial to the students than idleness, could this precious time be spent? On the interpretation of a line of Milton; the declension of some Latin noun; the conjugation of an irregular French verb; or even, an interesting corollary in geometry. The saving in time is trifling, it is true, when re¬ cesses are considered individually, but the combined results would doubtless prove amazing at the end of a school year. Too, numerous evils not recognized as such perhaps, but evils neverthe¬ less, could be averted. Is it possible that these are not recognized? Who knows what deep and mysterious plot is being outlined in one of those seem¬ ingly innocent-looking groups on the first floor? An attractive girl passes down the corridor followed by dark and sinister glances and glares. The group is at it again! Why, five years ago the school itself was the dividing line between the sexes; whereas now the two are slowly but steadily creeping up on one an¬ other by way of the hall; in fact, a mere few feet. The future, indeed, looks black if this practice continues. What will become of the school? What will become of the inmates or rather—scholars? Doomed to destruc¬ tion! Now, I have merely sketched the dangers resultant from too long recesses, and I am sure you realize that this matter is serious—a question for deep study and thought. So may the years that are to come find some solution or remedy for this pressing problem resulting from the evils of our very long—far too long—recess. Lillian Kinq, ’31. SMALL PACKAGES. “Good things come in small packages.’’ Millions of times have I heard this very expression, and verily it is true. Take, for instance, the mosquito. These invariably come in small packages. Some are, of course, a trifle bigger than others, but even the smallest one has a most effective bite. And for companions—well, they simply can’t be beat! You may be very comfortably swinging in a hammock, enjoying your solitude, when friend mosquito discovers you. Taking pity on you, he de¬ cides to come over and keep you company. He finds a cozy place to alight, and just when you are becoming acquainted with him, he decides you are not grateful for his company. Being very kind, however, he leaves you a souvenir which reminds you of his presence long after he is gone. It must be admitted that the mosquito is most generous in giving his souvenirs. But a mosquito would rather be among a group than with a single per¬ son. Indeed, it is much more fun to be among a crowd. If he notices a group laughing and chatting, he decides he’d like to know what s going on. Acting upon his decision, he goes from one to the other, really causing much enjoyment—to himself—and leaving them a souvenir. Yes, the mosquito is indeed a erudite creature. Does he not come in con¬ stant contact with all sorts of learned people? No one can dispute the fact that his generous disposition causes him to disregard the color, race, or po¬ sition of a person. The mosquito is a well-known friend, and we always look forward with great pleasure to his arrival. But then this merely proves the statement that “good things come in little packages.’’ Linda De Palma, ’31. 60 THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. VALEDICTORY. SHAKESPEARE’S ENGLAND. As one of the three great factors which help to shape literature, the influence of a country is very conspicious in the works of its writers. The influence exerted by England upon William Shakespeare is especially force¬ ful, for throughout his works we find continual allusions to his native land with its beautiful landmarks and quaint customs. The ruling monarch of Shakespeare’s day was Queen Elizabeth whose reign was characterized by unsurpassed splendor. Elizabeth loved luxury and spared no expense to satisfy her desires. These “spacious times” were brightened by ceremonial banquets which were numerous and elaborate. At such feasts only the choicest of foods and drinks were served while lively music was furnished by minstrels. Often hired actors presented pageants or masques, types of amusement especially favored in Shakespeare’s time. The banquet was never complete without the jester who heightened the spirits of the Court with his witty remarks. To the jester his work was serious business, and Shakespeare, in his plays, presents him as a man of common sense rather than a fool. Elizabeth often left her palace and visited the country estate of some favored nobleman. It was a great honor to receive the Queen but great responsibilities were entailed also. Elaborate preparations had to be made not only for the Queen but for the numerous attendants who would accom¬ pany her. One impoverished nobleman, warned that the Queen was plan¬ ning to visit his estato; burned it rather than bear the debt which would inevitably result. The country squires of Shakespeare’s time were the aristocratic mid¬ dle class. The squire was the most outstanding figure in community life. He exhibited a truly English hospitality, always leaving his house open to friend or stranger. The country estates with the surrounding villages pre¬ sented the most interesting type of English life. It was in one of these communities that Shakespeare was born, and here he became familiar with the real English scenes and customs. The life of the poor in the center of London contrasted rudely with the pomp and ceremony of the Court and the peaceful life of the country squire. Many of the commoners lived near the Old London Bridge. They were crowded together in squalid streets darkened by the projecting upper stories of the houses. The streets were muddy and made it necessary for the wealthy to ride in sedan chairs. In fact, walking through London streets was such a rare event, even in the eighteenth century, that Samuel Pepys, famous diarist, noted in his diary whenever he did walk. Since such were conditions, it is not to be wondered at that the plague was so prevalent in the slum districts of London. In spite of the poverty of the city commoners, their life was not en¬ tirely dull. They, together with the Court and the country folk, joined in e amusements and sports of their period, many of which still exist. Sir rancis Drake, Elizabeth’s most daring sea-fighter, was especially fond of bowling. Tennis and fencing were popular sports. There was a tendency toward amusements now considered cruel, such as bull-fighting, bear-baiting and cock-fighting. Even Elizabeth is known to have been fond of these sports. Football, however, was frowned upon, and was considered a “bloody and murdering practice.” THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. 61 XT religious holidays were celebrated with great cheer while New Year s Day was one of the most important festivities of the year. Those who were able kept open house. Quarrels were forgotten, and no debts were paid for a week. The revelry, starting on Christmas Day, lasted for twelve days the last marking the height of the festivities. Shakespeare’s comedv Twelfth Night deals with that happy time. It is interesting to recall that the people of Shakespeare’s time were of a very superstitious nature. Whether or not Shakespeare himself was super¬ stitious is not known, but throughout his works we find references to sooth¬ sayers, witches, and superstitious beliefs. It was a common belief that old women, believed to be witches, could bring misfortune upon their enemies or cause a person’s death. The witches did an enormous business selling spells and poisons, for even the most learned people of the age believed in their mystic powers. Charms were worn to counteract spells. Precious stones were considered especially valu¬ able for this purpose. Omens were of great significance. Comets foretold the death of kings. The mournful wail of an owl was also a warning of death. In Macbeth, the heroine, hearing the cry of an owl, understood it to be a prophecy of Banquo ' s death. Even royalty had a part in the universal superstition. English monarchs were supposed to have the power of curing diseases by merely touching the patient. In spite of the fact that superstition was common, a genuine enthusiasm for learning prevailed. Elizabeth’s reign marked the height of the intellectual revival commonly known as the Renaissance. Civilization was gradually being revived after a dark period of dissen¬ sion. English students pored over Greek and Latin manuscripts and traveled through European countries studying languages. Discoveries were made in science, and trade and commerce developed. The Elizabethan era marked great achievements in literature also. Shakespeare, living in this favorable age, rose to prominence and under his master hand, dramatic poetry sprang into full being. It was an age the intellectual and commercial activity of which has never been surpassed. An object of interest which played a great part in Shakespeare’s life was the Globe Theatre, situated south of the Thames River. It was a very large structure without a roof. There were seats only in the gallery where the refined classes sat, the pit being set apart for the commoners. The choicest seats were on the sides of the stage and were occupied by the London dandies who wished to show off their brilliant finery. The main stage, projecting into the pit, had no curtains whatever. At the back of the stage was an alcove where special scenes were enacted. Over the alcove was a balcony which often represented the upper story of a house, a hill, or any elevated position. There was little scenery. A tree, trunk or two would indicate that the scene took place in a forest. An altar would designate a Church. Often only printed placards would disclose the setting. Whatever scenery was lacking, was readily supplied by the vivid imagination of the audience. Correct costuming was deemed unnecessary. Elaborateness and bril¬ liancy were all that any audience required. Often Caesar would appear wear¬ ing the costume of an Elizabethan duke instead of a Roman toga. The play was preceded by a prologue and the drama immediately fol¬ lowed. The audience on the whole took great interest in the play. Fascinat¬ ed, they watched the actor stride across the stage and enact his part, and 62 THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. the lack of scenery and the fact that women ' s roles were assumed by boys mattered little. After the drama was enacted, the audience departed unless a tragedy had been presented. If so, a clown came forward and dispelled with song and dance the gloom of the pleasure-seekers, and they departed, happy once more. Shakespeare wrote his dramas solely for the stage, but his ability could not be hidden from the literary world. Queen Elizabeth recognized his talent and became his patroness. To-day, Shakespeare still ranks first in -English literature. His works are still read with veneration and delight, and Eng¬ land, his native land, the beauties of which so often graced his works, will be forever glorified by his genius. ■it j}i Classmates of 1931: To-night marks the culmination of our High school career. As this may be our last meeting as a class, let us take this opportunity to show our ap¬ preciation for the generous sacrifices of our parents, and the tireless efforts of our instructors in our behalf. As we venture out on unknown paths, let us resolve to remain loyal to our Alma Mater. Let us also remember and cherish the motto which has been an inspiration to us during our High school days—“Above all— honor.” Teachers, undergraduates, and friends of the Class of 1931, we bid you all a fond farewell. Pauline E. Smith, ' 31. SPELLING PENALTIES. (With apologies to Shakespeare’s “mercy speech”) The penalty of spelling is not strained; It droppeth as a gentle rain from Room One Upon the Senior Class; it is graciously taken: It is taken from him who cares and him who doesn’t. ’Tis mightiest in the mightiest: It becomes The throned monarch better than his crown; Its penalty shows the force of temporal agony. The attribute to ire and labor. Wherein doth sit the dread and fears of others; But mercy may be above this penalty. It is enthroned in the heart of the teacher; It is an attribute to Miss Ryan herself; And Miss Ryan’s power doth then show lik’st God’s When mercy seasons penalties. Therefore, class. Though spelling be thy plea, consider this: That, in the course of penalties none of us See salvation: we do pray for mercy; And that same prayer doth teach us to render The deeds of mercy. I have spoken thus much To mitigate the penalties of thy plea; Which if thou follow, this strict court of Room One Must needs give penalties ’gainst the pupils there. Donald J. Consoletti, ’31. THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. 63 THE DRAMATIC CLUB REPORT. THg Dftvid Gsrrick DraiTi tic Club of tho Milford High School organized early in November with a membership of sixty-seven Juniors and Seniors. The following officers were elected; President . Richard L. McGinnis Vice-President . Evelyn Pinardi Secretary . Eva Trotta Treasurer . Bernard Marcus The members of the club met about once each month, during which time the technique of the stage was studied. Each member was given an opportu¬ nity to appear in tableaux presented before the club. These tableaux re¬ vealed each individual’s ability to portray a character. In the early part of the school year the members of the club made their annual trip to Boston, where they saw The Merchant of Venice. On June 12, 1931, the club gave their public performance which included three plays: The Lost Elevator, a play by Percival Wilde, presented by Bernard Marcus, Robert Kurlansky, Ray Blackler, Donald Consoletti, Ronald Brown, Elias Heitin, Rita O’Sullivan, Burnetta Allen, Edith French, Lillian Chafetz, and Anna Ranahan. The Far Away Princess, by Sudermann, presented by Lillian King, Rose Marcus, Leona Paietta, Pia Pomponio, Sabina Burns, Mabel Trautwein, Edith Carlson, Leonard Mead, and Donald Wilson. The Rising of the Moon, a play by Lady Gregory, presented by Edmund Sullivan, Joseph Naughton, William Bellantonio, nd Marco Balzarini. The plays were well given and proved a success. Much credit is due Miss Sadie O’Connell, our indefatigable faculty ad¬ viser, who, as in other years, has expended much time and effort to make our club a success. Richard L. McGinnis, ’31. 64 THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. LE CERCLE DE lEANNE D ARC. Le Cercle de Jeanne D’Arc, founded by the Class of 1930, organized early in the year. The club is under the direction of Miss Margaret Pianca, French instructor, and membership is restricted to Senior French students. The following officers were elected:— President . Bruna F. Pagnini Vice-President . Taimi C. Helin Secretary . Evelyn Pinardi Treasurer . Pauline Smith Once a week the fourteen members of the club have met with the aim of gaining a broader knowledge of the French language, and to become better acquainted with the customs and culture of the French people. The field of work in class room study is widened and made more inter¬ esting by the singing o f French songs and the reading of “Le Francais et Sa Patrie,” a French text. The weekly reading of the periodical “Le Petit Journal” gives the class an interesting knowledge of France and its people. The members in celebration of la fete de Jeanne D’Arc will conclude the activities of the club by a picnic which will be held through the kindness of Miss Pianca. The members of the club feel that much credit is due Miss Pianca, whose indefatigable efforts have made possible the success of Le Cercle de Jeanne D’Arc. Bruna F. Pagnini, ’31. FRESHMAN DEBATING CLUB. The Freshman Debating Club was formed at the beginning of the school year with a membership of twenty-five. During the year each member had an opportunity to participate in one debate. The debates were held in the presence of the freshman teachers, students, and their parents. The subjects debated were as follows; Resolved: That installment buying hinders prosperity. That chain stores are beneficial to business conditions. That the adoption of the 18th Amendment has been justified. That a change to the thirteen month calendar should be approved. The debates were very interesting, instructive, and educational due to the fact that the subjects were present day questions of interest to all. The officers were: President . William O’Donnell Secretary . Dorothy Lawson The success of the club was due to the suggestions and help given by our efficient instructor. Miss Inez E. SanClemente. William G. O’Donnell, ’34. Ui t « . . 1. X if ■ ..r i ■ v 4 ' V. f i I |i 3 ; i � ‘r’. ' ■. ' .• J -.f ■. I ' • V ' - •K.t ■ ; •■• . l.v;y£ J ' v-• ' ■? - ;— ■ ■.‘••r T - ' •■?! k is - .J f t I • •. I . ‘ y ■ • ' T .Civ ' r-k. ' ■ V Jw ■ Jk. .■• ' Vrf vw , I T. ' -. - ' ■ 5s ♦� %i. ■; ’w r THE OAK, LILY AND IVY 65 THE MILFORD HIGH SCHOOL SCIENCE CLUB. The Milford High School Science Club was formed October 27, 1930, with thirty-five members. The following officers were elected: President . Charles SanClemente Vice-President . Burnetta Allen Secretary . Edmund Sullivan Treasurer . Reno DeLuzio The main aim of the club is to promote interest in the field of science. Members were required to collect articles and illustrations of any particular scientific topic in a notebook which was examined at the end of the year. The admirable notebooks received undoubtedly prove that the purpose of the club was fulfilled. At the meetings, which were held once every three weeks, demonstra¬ tions with lectures were given by the members, and these were followed by a general discussion. Films, which were loaned to the club by various firms, completed the programs. The members wish for the future success of the club, and are deeply grateful to the ceaseless efforts of our director, Mr. Fred A. Metcalf. Charles SanClemente, ' 32. THE SENIOR—lUNIOR DEBATING CLUB REPORT. The Senior—Junior Debating Club of the Milford High School was or¬ ganized for the first time in 1930 with a membership of thirty-one, composed of Juniors and Seniors. The following officers were elected: President . Richard L. McGinnis, ’31 . Vice-President . Doris Moore, ’32 Secretary . Genevieve Broderick, ’31 Treasurer . Charles SanClemente, ’32 The purpose of the club is to instruct each individual in the technique of debating and public speaking. The club averaged about one meeting a month, conducted according to Parliamentary Law. The club gave three debates, to which every pupil in the school was cordially invited. The subjects debated upon were: That loans are preferable to scholarships as aids to college students. That the country boy has a better chance to succeed than the city boy. That the present football rules should not be changed. The members of the club wish to thank Mr. Quirk, whose untiring efforts have made this organization possible, and they sincerely hope for its success in years to come. Richard L. McGinnis, ’31. IN A FRESHMAN’S EYES. A Senior stood on a railroad track; The train was coming fast. The train got off the railroad track. And let the Senior pass. 66 THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. THE CHEMISTRY CLUB. The Chemistry Club was organized in the latter part of November with a membership of forty. The following club officials were elected: President . Daniel Imbruno, ’31 Vice-President . Genevieve Broderick, ’31 Secretary . Lillian King, ’31 The following committee was elected to aid in formulating plans for the club: Henry lacovelli, ’31, Emerson Robinson, ’31, Winnifred Granger, ’31, Patrice Carroll, ’31, Ollie Bertorelli, ’30, Frank Brenna, ’30. During the year four successful meetings were held, the number of meet¬ ings being so small because of the late organization of the club. These meet¬ ings took up sulphur compound, rubber, inert gases, and short various topics pertaining to chemistry. The members of the club are grateful to Miss Mary B. Ford, our chem¬ istry instructor, whose untiring eiforts have made the success of our club possible, and the founders of the club sincerely hope for its success in future years. Daniel Imbruno, President. Wouldn’t the shock be fatal if:— Miss H. lanzito forgot her shorthand? Miss Consoletti yelled? Miss Kosciak ceased to argue? Miss Siipola forgot to smile? Mead disliked music? Miss Smith said “Unprepared”? Miss Smith got below an average of 95 % ? Miss Anderson and Miss Ferguson were separated? All the typewriters broke on one day? All the seniors got 100% in spelling? lacovelli didn’t crack his knuckles? Balzarini forgot how to play football? We had no afternoon sessions? Miss DePalma didn’t read shorthand fast? Miss Consoletti hurried? Miss Streeter didn’t come in at the last minute? Miss Siipola knew where she hung her coat? Miss Cenedella wasn’t the life of the party? Everyone paid his athletic dues on time? Miss Smith became lazy? Miss Burns didn’t look worried? All the seniors could write poetry? Miss Ryan forgot to dictate “Shakespeare” in spelling? Miss Egan didn’t give a 5 minute speed test every day? Miss Macuen became excited? The seniors took a trip to Washington? Mr. Quirk didn’t visit classes? Balzarini wasn’t an athlete? THE OAK, LILY AND IVY 67 FOOTBALL. With the opening of school in the fall of 1930, one of the largest squads of football candidates in the history of the school reported to Coach Riopel. Another banner year was expected because of the return of many veterans and the number of promising recruits. The team lived up to expectation by winning the Midland League Championship for the second consecutive year. The football season was inaugurated by a smarting defeat for the High school when ' ' Dame” Grayson’s eleven from Attleboro managed to squeeze out a 7 to 6 victory over the locals. The following Saturday Milford journeyed to Hopkinton to batter out a 27 to 0 victory. On October 13 Milford won its first Midland League game by defeating Marlboro 14 to 6 before a large gathering. Milford suffered an unexpected defeat from the hands of a fighting Frank¬ lin High team, 7 to 6. Milford took a firm hold on the Midland League Championship when it defeated Maynard High 13 to 9 on a field that was covered with mud. Milford High then journeyed to Natick to be taken into camp by a very powerful Natick team, 19 to 0. On the next Saturday, November 8, the crippled Riopelians held the strong Framingham High to a 7 to 6 score. This was the third game Milford High lost by failure to kick the extra point. On November 15 Milford High won a hard earned victory over a pow¬ erful Hudson High team, 7 to 0. This brought the Football Championship of the Midland League to nest in Milford for the second consecutive year. On November 22, Milford High School journeyed to Westboro to pin a 26 to 6 licking on to Westboro High at Civics Field. On Thanksgiving Day, Milford High closed its football season for 1930 by holding a heavy Walpole eleven to a scoreless tie at Bird’s Park. 68 THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. The members of the squad were: Captain Balzarini, Murray, Palm, McGinnis, Fitzgerald, Marcus, Bellantonio, Rice, DiGaetano, Brucato, Tomaso, Chludenski, Ritz, Chappell, Shamanian, Petrini, Fitzpatrick, Beccia, Longo, R. Blackler, Burford, Gordon, lacovelli, S. Blackler, Moresco, Bruno, Ragonese, DeFrancesco, Ceruti, Minichello, and Richards. Too much credit cannot be given to Coach Riopel, for without his cap¬ able services our cause would be lost. Much credit is due Mr. Thomas J. Quirk, our principal, through whose efforts athletics have been kept on a sound basis. Milford High school is fortunate to have such an able guardian of its athletic affairs. To Manager William Murray I extend my wishes for a successful sea¬ son. Manager Kenneth Noone, ' 31. BASEBALL. Early in April, Coach Riopel sounded his bugle for baseball candidates for the 1931 baseball team. About fifty candidates responded to this clarion call. Graduation last year claimed many of the 1930 stars such as “Pep’ ' Mor- cone, the hard hitting catcher; “Ned” Porter, the cool headed pitcher; “Ant” Parente, the versatile first sacker; “Bill” O’Brien, the extraordinary short stop, and “Red” O’Donnell, the fleet footed outfielder. These vacancies were filled by Comolli behind the bat, Rae and DiGaetano covering the first sack, Charles Brucato and “Sam” Tomaso covering second base and short stop, respectively. Milford inaugurated its 1931 baseball season by losing a very close de¬ cision to Dedham, 3 to 2. The next game we defeated “Dame” Grayson’s Attleboro High’s team, 11 to 10. Milford took a close contest from Norwood, a new team on our schedule, 7 to 4. Next, Walpole trampled over Milford, 13 to 1. In our fifth game we pounded Natick to win by a score of 15 to 4. Milford again beat Attleboro in the following game, 8 to 2 in Attleboro. In the next game Milford bowed to her old Midland League rival, Marl¬ boro, 6 to 2, in Marlboro. Following the Marlboro game, we defeated Framingham High, 15 to 4. Milford gained a victory by the superb pitching of “Sooey”, who de¬ feated Walpole in Walpole, 5 to 4. (Revenge is sweet.) Franklin gained a surprise victory over the Milfordians, 5 to 3 in Franklin. Milford High School took Clinton into camp in a hard fought, ten inning battle, the first extra inning game to be played this year, 8 to 3. St. Mary’s Academy gained a 9 to 5 victory over the High School team in the first game of a series for the silver cup to be given by the Milford Daily News. At this writing your correspondent finds Milford with a few games to be played—St. Mary’s, Framingham, Marlboro, and Clinton. Our battery was Comolli, catching, and “Sooey” DiGaetano and “Rube” Kurlansky, pitching; DiGaetano and Rae alternating at first, and Charlie Brucato and “Sammie” Tomaso playing second and short stop, respectively. THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. 69 Tooch” Noone, our captain, covered the third sack. In left field we had “Dannie” Consoletti, “Bernie” Marcus playing in center field. For sub¬ stitutes we had “Freddie” Crandall, “Slugger” Bruno, “Shrimp” Ceruti, Bodio, Dalrymple, Blackler, and Shamanian. Up to June second Milford has won seven games and lost five, thus hav¬ ing an average of .581. Much credit is due to our Coach whose mental and physical culture has made it possible for our boys to keep in a fighting spirit whether it be in victory or in defeat. We are also greatly indebted to our principal, Thomas J. Quirk, for his hard work in arranging new teams on our list. I believe that in my four years of High School I have never seen a group of boys who were better sports than these boys, whether it was in victory or in defeat, and I wish them a very successful and smooth sailing finish to this great year. Henry N. Iacovelli, ' 31. BURKE’S SPEECH. Each class before they graduate Must read a little book, Which all so much appreciate At just a glance or look. The marks go down when this they reach. Although the book is small; It’s Burke’s Conciliation Speech That makes so many fall. Please do not let these words daunt you To whom we leave this book. For it may bring success to you — This little English book! D. Bunting. SPELLING BY EAR. The young French stenographer, whose progress in English had not kept pace with her proficiency in shorthand, was puzzling over some notes she had taken of a recitation at a public entertainment. As she transcribed them the recitation began like this; “La fanthi worlaf swiaheu Oui panju oui pelone!” “That’s easy,” said the expert to whom she submitted the notes. It is part of a poem that begins: ' Laugh, and the world laughs with you. Weep and you weep alone.’ ”—Ex. PROPHETS. “When Columbus discovered America, how did he know it was America?” “Because the look-out man said: T see dry land, sir.’ ” 70 THE OAK LILY AND IVY. THumor (lolumn If you don’t like these little jokes And their dryness makes you groan, Just come around occasionally With some good ones of your own. TRUE EMOTION. Himbuck:—“What have you been doing, Henry? Your hands are black as coal.” Henry Peck:—“I was at the station to see my mother-in-law off after her visit.” Himbuck:—“But your hands?” Henry Peck:—“I know. I patted the engine.”—Ex. A MILFORD HIGH SCHOOL TRAGEDY. It was two weeks before graduation. The students in Room One sat quietly writing .... writing .... writing .... At intervals a student arose . . . walked to the desk and placed a paper there. The teaclier took the paper, looked at it, put something in a large black book and tore the paper up. Occasionally the silence of the room was broken by her voice calling the name of a student, handing back his or her paper that seemed so sacred, and again the room was silent. The students wrote steadily on. The recess bell rang. There was a general stirring throughout the building. But the Seniors in Room One seemed not to hear. They worked doggedly on and on. 1: 5K It was six-thirty on the night of graduation. The Class of ’31 was as¬ sembled in the lower hall of the Town House. The students looked fresh and alive in their white dresses and blue suits. But their faces were worn and drawn. The hall was quiet. The students sat on the low benches arranged along the wall. Each had a little green book and a pad of yellow paper. All were intent upon their own work. A teacher walked up and down the hall; she carried a large black book. Occasionally as she passed a student, a piece of yellow paper was torn from the pad and handed to her. She examined it closely, made a mark in her book, or handed it sadly back to the student. An underclassman stood in one corner of the hall. He guarded a large pail of water. Frequently he administered water to the forehead of a student who became weak. As the hour passed, students arose, handed a paper to the teacher with a look of triumph on their drawn faces, and remained silent merely out of pity and sympathy for their classmates. At seven-thirty but one student remained writing. He wrote steadily on, unaware of his surroundings. Word went around that it was time to assemble and form the lines. But the boy continued to write. Someone went over to him and placed a flower in his button-hole. He heeded nothing—saw nothing—nothing but the little green book and the yellow pad of paper before him. THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. 71 Finally he arose, handed the yellow paper to the teacher, standing close by. He was tense. The teacher examined it closely. She tore it up and put a mark in her large black book. “It is done. I have won my diploma. The last spelling penalty is in and accepted. I die happy.’ ' He gasped, sank down, and died! The clock struck eight. The long lines moved slowly towards the upper hall. Louise Cenedella, ’31. A FLOWER SONG. A young man named Sweet William Went to call on Marguerite; And when he entered, she blushed a rosy Pink. And when he Aster to be his. She sat down to sigh and think. Now when he asked her Poppy dear. He said the marriage would disgrace him. Sweet William frowned with Bleeding Heart. But Poppy said unless he left at Four-o’clock, The Dogwood surely chase him. Burnetta R. Allen. CUTTING REMARKS. First Convict:—“Say, what are you in here for?” Second Convict:—“Oh, I sliced an apple.” First Convict:—“What of it? Man, they can’t hold you for that!” Second Convict:—“Yeah, but this was an Adam’s apple.” Mother:—“Sonny, do you want a piece of Washington Pie?” Sonny:—“No, I wouldn’t eat a piece so old!” EPITAPHS. Here lies the body of Maurice Day; While up in his airplane the motor gave way. Alas for poor Lavelle Macuen; Her new Chevrolet brought her to ruin. For Leonard Mead we surely must moan; He passed away playing his saxophone. Dad:—“Son, I’m spanking you because I love you.” Son:—“Dad, I’d like to be big enough to return your love.”—Ex. Teacher:—“Who can name one important thing we have now that we did not have one hundred years ago?” Tommy:—“Me.”—Ex. 72 THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. GIRLS AND GOSSIP. (With apologies to Joyce Kilmer) I think that I shall never know A girl in whom there isn’t bound to grow—some gossip. A girl whose hungry ear is prest To hear the gossip of the rest; A girl who waits day after day To gossip in a catty way; A girl who may in sore dismay Hear no new gossip for half a day. Upon her ear no hair shall stay That she may better hear the news of the day. Gossip is made by girls like me, And there’s plenty to which the men agree! Marion Lipman, ’ 31 . An Englishman, Scotchman and Irishman were walking along the street. The Englishman had a horse, the Scotchman a cow, and the Irishman had a wagon. A policeman became suspicious, and stopped them and questioned them. The Englishman said he had had the horse since it was a colt. The Scotchman said he had had the cow since it was a calf. The Irishman replied, “And sure I’ve had this wagon since it was a wheelbarrow.” A charming young singer named Anna Got on a float at Montana As she floated away Her sister, they say. Accompanied her on the piano. A man entered a restaurant and asked for an order of beef. After fin¬ ishing his luncheon the waiter approached him and asked, “How did vou find your beef, sir?” “By lifting up a potato,” replied the man. THE RETORT COURTEOUS. Angry Motoiist: Some of you pedestrians walk along just as if you owned the streets.” Irate Pedestrian: “Yes, and some of you motorists drive around iust as if you owned the car.” PRACTICE MAKES PERFECT. Tommie. (Irandma, if I was invited out to dinner some place, should I eat pie with a fork?” Grandma:—“Yes, indeed, Tommie.” Tommie:—“You haven’t got a pie around the house that I could practice on, have you. Grandma?”—Ex. ADVERTISING SECTION. 73 BRYANT STRAHON COMMERCIAL SCHOOL BOSTON presents many advantages to MILFORD HIGH SCHOOL GRADUATES 1. A Student’s Ticket from Milford to Boston costs only $7.00 per month. 2. Superior Building and Equipment, conveniently located within easy walking distance from Huntington Avenue Station. 3. Unexcelled Courses, with capable and experienced Instructors who show per¬ sonal interest in training students for Secretarial and Executive positions. 4. Exceptionally high-grade Student Body —practically 100% high school or academy graduates, a large percentage of whom are college graduates. 5. Admission without exiamination with the privilege of Individual Advance4 ment, which enables the capable student to complete the course in the shortest possible time. 6. Wide range of Employment Opportunities offered by our Placement Bureau, which for nearly fifty years has assisted graduates in securing desirable positions. 7. No Solicitors or Agents to annoy you. Prospectus sent upon request. Summer Session Opens June 29—Fall Session, September 8. 334 Boylston Street Telephone L. O. WHITE Boston, Mass. KENmore 6789 Principal Compliments of. PRISCILLA SHOPPE 46 MAIN STREET BUTTER-KIST POP CORN TOMASO SONS, Props. MILFORD SIGN STUDIO ANTHONY SCIULLO, Prop. SIGNS FOR EVERY PURPOSE 167 Main Street • - Tel. 1552-M MACCHI GROCERY 142 East Main Street Milford, Mass. Compliments of Compliments of.... DR. THOMAS J. NUGENT Dentist B A FRIEND MILFORD, MASS. 74 ADVERTISING SECTION. South Middlesex Secretarial School ANNE P. HOURIN, Principal Lawyer and Court Reporter NOISY vs. NOISELESS TYPEWRITERS Tests by Colgate University at Carnegie Institute of Tech¬ nology demonstrate that it takes only a four ounce blow to strike a key on the Noiseless, whereas the ordinary typewriter takes a pound and a half blow. With the opening of our Fall Term on TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 8, we shall be completely outfitted with Noiseless typewriters, giving us a Model Typewriting Room and an equip¬ ment second to none. Very Special: Students registering for our Fall Classes (either day or evening) BEFORE JUNE 26 receive all text¬ books free! Step in, the next time you are in Framingham, for a free copy of our charming Graduate’s Record Book. Fitts Building, 116 Concord Street, Framingham Tel. Framingham 2330-W Burdett College FOR YOUNG MEN Burdett College offers Business Ad¬ ministration and Accounting Courses as preparation for sales, credit, financial and accounting positions. niiusite FOR YOUNG WOMEN: Executive Secretarial, Steno- aphic-Secretarial, and Fin¬ ishing Courses as preparation for promising secretarial posi¬ tions. FOR BOTH young men and young women: Office Manage- ment and Bookkeeping Courses as preparation for varying types of office posi¬ tions. A PROFESSIONAL ! BUSINESS SCHOOL I OF COLLEGE GRADE J Repeats Its Recomntenda tion that young people con¬ templating a business ca¬ reer finish first their high TChool course, later enter¬ ing college or business school as their fitness or need may require. Now Burdett GoQege Baikih« Distinctive features of Bur¬ dett CoHege are: personal attention—able faculty—ex- o ional preparatimi— indi¬ vidual advancement—desir¬ able student associates — fdacen t service. Students attending crane from univer¬ sities, colleges, high schools, and academies. Hacement calls fra graduates numbraed 3149 the past year. BURDETT COLLEGE is interested in high school g raduates farsighted enough to that a high school edu¬ ction supplemented by addi- nal, mra e highly special¬ ized, training is the best prep- ttration for a useful business career. Far nhutrmutd aatolosua-aent F. H. BURDETT, Prmmdmmt Pretittu Comm cial Training not Required for Entrance 156 STUART STREET, BOSTON, MASS. HANCOCK 6300 ADVERTISING SECTION 75 NORTHEASTER UNIVERSITY DAY DIVISION THE SCHOOL OF ENGINEERING In co-operation with engineering firms, offers curriculums leading to the Bachelor of Science de¬ gree in the following branches of engineering: Civil Engineering Mechanical Engineering Electrical Engineering Chemical Engineering Industrial Engineering THE SCHOOL OF BUSINESS ADMINISTRATION Co-operating with business firms, offers courses leading to the de¬ gree of Bachelor of Science in the following fields of business: Accounting Banking and Finance Business Management The Co-operative Plan of training enables the student to com¬ bine theory with two years of practice and makes it possible for him to earn his tuition and a part of his other school expenses. For catalog or any further information write to: NORTHEASTERN UNIVERSITY MILTON J. SCHLAGENHAUF, Director of Admissions Boston, Ma.ssachusetts 76 ADVERTISING SECTION. df of 9rl|oola ililfdrii lildBBdrifttBBttB Compliments of Compliments of M., F. U. COACH CO. A FRIEND Two-year, College-grade Courses Accounting—Finance Business Administr tdoa Secretarial Science Normal Commercial Standard [Short] Business Courses Graduates Assisted to Preferred Positions Part-time employment when needed. Supervised homes at reasonable rates. Athletic direaor and coaches. Send for Catalog BAY PATH INSTITUTE 100 Chestnut Street Springfield, Massachusetts Brenth Sehoolst Keene N. H,f BrnttUbora Carroll, Hixon, Jones Company Manufacturers and Importers of Straw and Body HATS aOH Milford, Mass. ADVERTISING SECTION. 77 RENSSELAER POLYTECHNIC INSTITUTE TROY, NEW YORK A School of Engineering and Science T he Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute was established at Troy, New York, in 1824, and is the oldest school of engineering and science in the United States. Students have come to it from all of the states and territories of the Union and from thirty-nine foreign countries. At the present time, there are over 1700 students enrolled at the school. Four year courses leading to degrees are offered, in Civil, Mechanical, Electrical and Chemical Engineering, in Architecture, and in Business Administration, Physics, Chemistry, and Biology. Graduates of the engineering courses are prepared to take up work in any branch of engineering. Graduates of the course in Architecture are prepared to practice their profession in any of its branches. Graduates of the course in Business Administration are prepared for careers in business or for the study of law. Graduates of the courses in Physics and Chemistry are fitted for research and teaching in these fields, as well as for practice in many branches of applied science. The course in Biology prepares for research and teaching, for work in sanitary engineering and public health, and for the study of medicine and dentistry. Graduates of any of the above courses may continue their work in the Graduate School of the Institute. The Master ' s Degree is conferred up on the satisfactory completion of one year’s work and the Doctor ' s Degree for three years’ work. The method of instruction is unique and very thorough, and in all departments the laboratory equipment is unusually complete. Interesting illustrated pam phlets giving information regard¬ ing the courses of study and the methods of instruction and containing views of the campus, buildings, and laboratories, the student activities, and the work of graduates, may be had by applying to the Registrar, Room 008, Pittsburg Building. 78 ADVERTISING SECTION. Lehigh and Free-Burning COALS J. F. HICKEY Insurance and Real Estate 224 Main Street High in Heat, Low in A h NEW ENGLAND COKE Milford, - Mass. Dependable Service BO« R. KAMPERSAL QUALITY DAIRY “Better Milk—More Protection ’ 1099-M Milford B. VITAUNI COAL and COKE ’Phone 500 Compliments of. FRANK J. HYNES T. E. MORSE CO. Wood, Kindling and Trucking 5 South Bow Street Painting and Decorating Paints and Wall Paper for Sale Telephone 41-R RISEBERG’S THE LEADING CREDIT HOUSE Compliments of. 171 MAIN STREET, MILFORD LOUISA LAKE ICE CO, rilLMORE’S (F ormerly Mac er’s) Good Things Compliments of. To Eat, Drink, Smoke, Read LOUIS FASHION SHOP 256 Main St., Milford, Mast. 187 Main Street, Milford ADVERTISING SECTION. 79 MORTGAGES, BONDS, NOTARY PUBLIC, SECURITIES, BROKER P. EUGENE CASEY—Real Estate REAL ESTATE and INSURANCE Service and Safety F. T. DeROCHE, Cashier Rooms 2 and 4 Exchange Building, Tel. Conn. 1500, 197 Main St., Milford, Mass. Compliments of. Dr. William J. Clancy MILFORD, MASS. THE WITHINGTON Edward R. O ' Connor, Prop. GROCERIES, MEATS and PROVISIONS Telephone 483 10 Exchange St. E. H. NEISTEIN Junk Dealer 76 Depot Street, Milford, Mass. Call 11-M Compliments of. NOLAN BROTHERS MILFORD DYE HOUSE CLEANSERS, DYERS and Tailors M. T. HAYES, Proprietor Phone 811-J 98 Main Street, Milford Colbert, the Florist Flowers for fill Occasions Q •m 5-7 Pine Street, MUford, Mass. Store 411-W LEO DeFIUPPIS, CUSTOM TAILOR OVER A. P. GROCERY STORE 118 MAIN STREET, MILFORD, MASS. 80 ADVERTISING SECTION. H. M. CURTISS COAL AND LUMBER CO. aoea Shingles aid Lomber of all Kinds Flooring, Windows and Doors ea 48 Pond Street, Milford Compliment of. W. C. WATERS Builder a 25 SPRUCE STREET MASTROIANNI BROS. First Class Shoe Repairing by Machinery Also Shining Parlor 83 I ' 2 East Main Street Milford, - Mass MONTI ROSSI Monumentsil Work Milford, - Mass. GRANITE AND MARBLE Statuary and Carving a Specialty Building and Monumental Work 58 EAST MAIN STREET, Tel. 845-W Residence, 8 Hayward St., Tel. 362-M Residence Tel. 94-R ARTHUR J. HEROUX Undertaker, Embalmer and Funeral Director Taxies for all occasions Milford, Mass. Night Calls, 8 Prentice Ave. Compliments of see J. F. CATUSI, Esq. Insurance Agency of JOSEPH MORCONE MILFORD, MASSACHUSETTS Milford, 23 Main Street Tel. Conn. Mass. ADVERTISING SECTION. 81 Established 1869 DEPENDABLE SERVICE Incorporated 1919 GOOD VALUES Attractive prices for the thrifty housekeeper in wash dresses, hosiery and underwear, linen and cotton goods, overalls for kiddies, boys and men, a full line of everything useful for the home. HENRY PATRICK GO. CHARLES E. COONEY DRY GOODS Compliments of BEN LANCISI, Jr. 222 Main Street, Milford S. A. Eastman Co. Paper and Corrugated Boxes a Compliments of. Milford Grain Company a MILFORD, MASS. 82 ADVERTISING SECTION. EMMA’S BEAUTY SHOPPE AT GRADUATION TIME All Branches of Beauty Culture Your friends expect your photograph Satisfaction Always—All Ways LINCOLN SQUARE BLDG., Main St. Special prices to graduates Phone 1567 MILFORD FURNITURE CO. ' ' We make a home W. A. Flannery Out of a house. ' Photographer Milford, Mass. 224 Main Street, Milford, Mass. JOSEPH F. EDWARDS FUNERAL DIRECTOR Compliments of. Tel. Office 225-W House 225-R FULLER WILSON BOSTON AND MILFORD EXPRESS FRANK 1. WARD, Prop. X. Xucblnt Son Compliments of. Compliments of. JOSEPH H. DOYLE, E«q. ALFRED J. OLIVER, D.M.D. Compliments of. Blexanber Dt(Btannantonio flntl(or , fDass. ADVERTISING SECTION. 83 Compliments of. BARNEY COAL CO. For the Best in Anthracite Coal New Ensrland Coke Welch Coal Wood Charcoal Call Milford, Tel. 940 NEW YORK BARGAIN STORE DRY GOODS Ladies and Children’s Apparel C. CHAFETZ, Prop. 63 Main Street, - Milford, Mass. ’’Read Many Books for the Price of One” TILDEN’S LENDING UBRARY 148 Main Street Compliments of. JOHN E. HIGGISTON Plumbing and Heating 26 Spruce Street Milford, Mass. Training for Business One and two year courses designed to prepare for superior positions. Business Administration Finance—Accounting Executive Secretarial Teacher Training and shorter Stenographic, Bookkeeping, Civil Service and Finishing Courses Co-Educational Refined Atmosphere Active Placement Bureau for Graduates Send for Catalogue BECKER COLLEGE sf Bofiaest Adndnistration and Secretarial Science Founded in 1887 WORCESTER. MASSACHUSETTS 84 ADVERTISING SECTION. Compliments of. The Home National Bank 221 Main Street, - Milford, Mass. “ Tr ie Bank with the Chime Clock” Now is the time for you to start a good banking connection. We will be glad to serve you. Compliments of...... HENRY VOLK CENTRAL SHOE Soloist and Instructor of REBUILDING the Violin J. FERRUCCl, ,Prop. Milford, Mass. JAMES L. ULLEY Auto and Sign Painter Compliments of. Automobile Spraying a Specialty . 43 FOREST STREET CLIFFORD A. COOK Compliments of. HENRY lACOVELU - EUDREDGE SON H. L. SCHULTZ WaU Paper Ellectric Company Duco a and DuPont Paints 244 Main Street, Milford, Mass. 42 Elxchange Street - Milford Get it at BRIDGES PHARMACY Hood’s Old Fashioned Ice Cream • “The Flavor is There I Kodak Supplies, Candy Prescriptions accurately compounded J. H. O’GRADY, Prop. 193 Main Street Milford, Mass. Telephone 1306-W MANGUSO’S GARAGE Automobile Repairing of All Kinds We Specialize in Starting and Lighting Systems 105 East Main Street, Milford, Mass. For your health eat good fruit The Tampa Fruit Company 176 Main Street Milford, Mass. HARRY B. TOROSIAN SONS At the Corner by the State STATE CONFECTIONERY We are the ones who can help you select your Standard Brands of Fancy Boxes of Chocolates Surprise your friends with a FANCY BOX of CHOCOLATES We deliver Ice Cream and Candy for your party. We solicit your patronage. I. L. FERMAN, Prop. Phone 8659 Every Day of .the Year You Can ‘‘Save With Safety” E- at Your Rexall Store NEILAN’S DRUG STORE 201 Miain Street, Milford ci EXCHANGE STREET BAKERY JOSEPH F. MAININI, Prop. Specialty of Doughnuts, Wedding and Birthday Cakes and All Kinds of Pastry Telephone 1304-J Milford, Mass. _ ■ _ • ' - r i; ? - - • . ] . •, • Compliments of MOTOR EQUIPMENT CQ., Inc. Everything for the. the ' Automobile 106 Main Street Milford ---—- ‘FT I — ■■ v Compliments of • ••• ROCCO lOCOVELLl MAIN LINE GARAGE 107 East Main Street INDIAN MOTOR CYCLE Sales and Service A. FRANCESCONI Milford, Mass.