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

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26 THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. ROMANCE. Grace sank into her seat with a sigh. She liked this study room, for the absent minded teacher paid almost no attention to the students in her charge. Some days Grace would study, or if she had nothing else to do, she would talk. This day was different. She was all a-tingle with excitement. She took The Letter from her purse, and hiding it behind her history book, re-read it the fifth time. Emery did write such wonderful letters! “I have just finished writing a book, and since I need a vacation, I shall motor down to see you on June fifteenth. Then, my dear, I shall prove to myself whether you are as sweet and charming as your letters reveal you to be.” She thrilled with anticipation. Today was June fifteenth! This period, and the next two were spent in imagining how Emery would look, for Grace had never seen him, although they had been cor¬ responding for two years. They had agreed to send each other neither pic¬ tures nor descripions of themselves, in order to make their correspondence more interesting. Grace did not learn much in school that day, and was glad when the bell for dismissal rang. She almost ran the short distance to her home. Her small brother was playing on the porch. “Has—I mean, is—has anyone come?” she asked. “I don’t know. I’m busy,” he replied, without turning ' around, and continued to prod a bug with a small stick. She entered the house and found that her guest had not yet come. Snatching something to eat, she dashed upstairs, and ten minutes later, she was seated with a book in the cool living room, dressed in a dainty green chiffon dress which made her creamy skin look whiter, and which set off the red gold of her hair. Sitting still became tiresome work after half an hour. Grace fidgeted. “I do wish he’d hurry,” she thought. “My first real beau! Of course, those children who carry my books and take me to Proms don’t count. Emery’s a man!” She knew from his letters that this was his first year out of college and that he intended to write books which would make the world fall at his feet. She spent another half hour thinking and dreaming, and suddenly she jumped. “What on earth is that noise?” she protested. “Rattlely-bang-chug-chug; rattlely-bang-chug-chug.” Rushing to the window, Grace saw a dilapidated Ford stop in front of the house. It looked as if it had gone through floods, and earthquakes and several wars, since it lacked everything it could possibly do without. The doorbell rang. Upon opening it, Grace saw a very dusty young man wearing smudgy glasses. “Is this-er-thirty-four Fairview Avenue?” a rather high pitched voice asked. “Yes,” Grace said. “Well, er, I presume you are Grace Franklin. I am Emery Titherington. Er, may I wash up a bit? The roads are somewhat dusty, don’t you know.” Then squinting at her through his dusty glasses, “Yes, you are very lovely, my dear,” he informed her. “Why, come right in,” and Grace led the way to the large guest room with the adjoining bath-room.

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THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. 25 the buckles of his snowshoes. He was only six or eight feet up the pole when the leader of the pack leaped after him, the big wolf’s snapping fangs miss¬ ing Fred’s foot by inches. Paying no attention to the howling clamor below, he soon cleared the trouble. He then rang and reported the trouble being cleared, and asked to be connected with Perkins. “What’s up? What’s that noise?” came the voice of Fred’s friend. “I’m up, and that noise is wolves.” “Wolves?” “Wolves! Seven big ones—sitting around the bottom of the pole sing¬ ing for their supper. I’m the supper.” “How are you going to get home?” “Well, I have my automatic.” As Fred fired, the slide came back and caught in a wire, jerking the pistol from his hand. Adding insult to injury, the wolf he had aimed at was uninjured. Fred rang back to Perkins, and after he had told him what had happened, Perkins replied that it would be impossible to get a man there before morn¬ ing. “By that time I’ll be frozen; or I’ll fall off the pole, and just about two minutes after that. I’ll be a lot of nice, juicy hamburg.” “We’ll have to do something!” Perkins cried desperately. “I’ve got an idea; it may work. You’ve got some copper wire with you. Uncoil it and get some of it to the ground.” Fred uncoiled the wire, and connected it to the wires on the poles. The wolves immediately got all tangled up in it. A short piece remained in his hand but long enough to come within six or seven feet of the ground. He put one of his gloves on the end of it and lowered it. A big wolf made a mighty leap and almost seized it in his teeth. He hastily pulled the glove out of the wolf’s reach. “Try that a little later, big boy!” he chuckled. His test buzzer sounded. “Are you ready?” said Perkins. “When they’re all tangled up in it, holler ‘Shoot’ and I’ll turn on the juice here.” “Shoot!” Fred yelled in a few seconds. A flash of fire, a wisp of pungent smoke, and a howl from below. Two wolves jumped clear. The others were dead. The uninjured wolves sped down the mountain. “Turn it off!” Fred shouted. “It’s off! Did it work?” “Did it work? Oh, boy, got all but two of them and they’re in the next county by now.” “Say, Perk!” Fred’s voice trembled with elation. “I get the break! Five hides at fifty bucks apiece, and twenty-five bucks bounty from the sheepmen’s association—three hundred and seventy-five smackers! Besides getting out of a pickle.” “And you’re all right?” Perkins asked. “Never felt better,” shouted Fred. “And say! You hunt up another trouble shooter. I’m quitting next week and going back to school to finish my training. When I’m in the Major league, be sure to come down and I’ll give you free passes to the games.” Annette Rivard, ’32.

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THE OAK, LILY AN D IVY. 27 Oh dear! Was this her Prince Charming, this young man of medium height, whose nearsighted eyes were covered with glasses? “Perhaps he has a great mind,” she thought. “Appearances don’t count. But I do wish he were tall, and strong, and handsome.” When the supper bell rang, Emery was a bit more presentable and he had quite a scholarly appearance. It was a pleasant meal. Emery was very attentive to Grace’s parents, and seemed to love her little brother, Jackie. His conversation concerned books (mostly his) and literary clubs, and Grace was proud of him. In the evening they took a walk through the lovely streets of Elmville. “Er y’know, Grace, I think you’re beautiful,” he murmured. “Your eyes are like -er deep green pools in a cool forest, and you’re so slender and dainty and sweet. You remind me of some one in-er, Macbeth, or is it Idylls of the King? ' ' he amended hastily. Grace smiled. “I think you’re a dear,” she said. Upon their return Mrs. Franklin easily persuaded Emery to stay for a few days, at least for the week-end, and the family retired each to his re¬ spective room. Grace did not fall asleep as quickly as usual. She was making plans for the next day. “We must do something that a man would enjoy. He does look romantic after all—like a poet, I mean. Oh! I’m so happy!” and she hugged herself. “I do believe I am in love with him!” and she sat up at this new thought. Emery, too, had not fallen asleep. He had been rather nervous about how Grace would look, but he had regained his usual self-assurance by this time, and was sure that he had made a good impression in spite of the bat¬ tered appearance of his car (“At least it was a car once,” he amended to himself), and in spite of his dustiness, for as he had often remarked to his bored friends, “The Titheringtons were always favorites with women.” Then he felt hungry, so he went downstairs quietly, and helped himself to some cold chicken and several generous pieces of peach shortcake. The next morning, Grace suggested a fishing trip and a picnic. After some hesitation, Emery agreed that that was just the thing. “I am frightfully fond of boats,” he said. “The Titheringtons were always good sailors.” “I wanna go fishin’! I wanna go fishin’!” wailed Jackie. “Make them take me. Mother. I’ll be naughty and bother you all day if I don’t go,” he threatened. “Take him with you, Gracie,” said Mrs. Franklin. “I really don’t think he should go, but my bridge club meets here today, and I know I shan’t have a minute’s peace if you don’t take him.” “But, Mother,” Grace protested, seeing the romance snatched away from the trip. “I ... ” “I know who stole cake from the ice-box,” Jackie said threateningly. “Jack!” said Grace. “Let him come along, Grace,” said Emery nonchalantly. “He’s such a nice little chap, and I know he won’t be any trouble. Do take him with us.” “That’s dear of you, Emery,” Grace said. Emery was so unselfish, and self-sacrificing. The fishing trip started beautifully. They hired a motor boat and a man to drive it. Emery held a fishing pole in his hands, somewhat awkwardly, but altogether confident of his success as a fisherman. Grace looked across the sparkling blue water and dreamed. Jackie played with some ropes in a