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

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28 THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. corner. The boatman whistled softly. Several hours went by thus. Every¬ thing was so peaceful, so calm, so beautiful, so romantic. Emery put down his fishing pole. “I don’t seem to be having much luck,” said he to Grace. “Anyway I’d rather talk to you.” Now Grace was not altogether pleased to have her dreams thus inter¬ rupted. She had been on the point of deciding whether white satin or white lace would be nicer for a wedding gown. But she smiled and murmured, “What shall we talk about?” Emery began to talk of his life, his ambitions, his hopes when suddenly an odd look Came on his face. “I-er excuse me, I think I see a school of fish,” and dashing to the other side of the boat, he leaned far over the side. Grace was going to follow him to see what interested him so, when she remembered Jackie who was unusually quiet. Jackie was also leaning over the rail in that peculiar manner. The boatman winked to no one in particular. Running to Jackie, Grace pulled him back to keep him from falling. She was surprised to see that he was very pale and tears were streaming down his cheeks. Suddenly she understood. Jackie was very seasick! That brute Emery who had insisted on dragging him along! Why he ought to be— suddenly another thought struck her. Had seasickness caused Emery to leave her so suddenly? Tears came to her eyes in her sympathy for her little brother’s suffering. Jackie sobbed, “I want to go home! I want my mother! I wanna go home!” Grace glanced at Emery. He was still very much interested in the school of fish. “Serves him right, the brute!” she thought. “So the Titheringtons were good sailors, were they? This is a fine specimen of manhood,” and her thoughts went back to Dickie Leonard who carried her books and who although eighteen (a year older than Grace) was a head and a half taller than Emery, and much handsomer. ' It was a very tired and disappointed Grace who entered the house a few hours later, leading a sick looking, crying little boy by the hand and followed by a pale young man, whose knees did not seem quite steady. “May I stay in my room and work on my new book. Miss Franklin?” asked Emery in a formal manner. “Yes, of course,” answered Grace, as kindly as she could manage. Put¬ ting Jackie into the charge of her sympathetic mother, she ran upstairs, and threw herself on her bed. “My Heart is broken,” she sobbed. “I shall n-never love anyone a-again. Oh!” and she shook with sobs. Then she dried her eyes and went to the window. She saw Dickie Leonard crossing the street and coming toward her house. She tapped on the window and he looked up. A wide grin spread over his tanned young face, and he called in his deep low voice, “Wanna go for a walk?” “I’ll be ready in five minutes, Dickie, dear,” she answered, and she im¬ mediately forgot her troubles. Incidentally, Emery remembered some important business, and left early the next morning. Martha Rapaport, ’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

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THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. 29 THE LETTER. The low murmuring of the detectives in the large room suddenly stopped. Garrity, the huge, robust and hard-faced Chief of Detectives had ordered the line-up of criminals for the day to commence. One by one they came before the spotlight—bootleggers, gangster’s molls, pickpockets and petty thieves—answered the questions that were fired at them by the bristling Garrity, and then were taken to the Tombs. Most of them were confident that they would be squeezed out of the jail, because of the dickerings be¬ tween the reigning gangsters and the high officials that ruled the city. As Chief Garrity, after retiring to his office, was seated, with his feet on his desk, reading the morning paper about the raids that had been con¬ ducted the night before, a detective came into the office to give his report. He had been sent out the previous evening to look for “Shine” Regals, a notorious racketeer, who was wanted for murder. The Chief could tell by the look on the detective’s face that his mission had been a failure. “Well,” said the Chief, “did you find your man?” “Naw,” answered the detective. “I searched high and low for him, visited all the dives that a guy like that would go to, and I didn’t get one glimpse of him. But say, boss, I rounded up ‘Cokey’ Grogan in the Grand Central Depot where I saw him picking some hick’s pocket. Shall I bring him in?” “Yes, bring him in,” roared the Chief. Because of the failure to get ‘Shine’ Regals, he was ready to unleash all his pent-up fury on ‘Cokey’ Gro¬ gan. The door to the office opened and a small, weasel-faced person furtively entered the office in a manner clearly showing that he had been there before. “Up to your little tricks again, ‘Cokey’. And you were released only three days ago from the Big House after serving three years. Well, you better talk fast and give us yoUr story, or you’re going back for a nice long vacation.” “Oh, I didn’t do nuthin’ and you ain’t got anythin’ on me, either,” piped the little gangster. “I haven’t, eh? Well, I’ll see about that. Empty out everything you have in your pockets and make it pretty fast, too.” The weasel-faced crook hastily extracted from his pockets a few bills, some change, three cigarettes, and a sealed letter. He placed thes6 on the Chief’s desk and muttered something to himself. The Chief quickly opened the letter, and angrily turned to ‘Cokey’. “Where did you get this letter?” he asked. “Oh, some guy in the prison gave it to me to mail for him.” “He’s lying,” said the detective. “I saw him hock it from that kid back in the depot.” “Well, make it snappy,” roared the Chief. “Tell me what you were going to do with this train ticket and this letter of introduction to one of the biggest and most powerful racketeers in San Francisco.” The little crook looked stealthily about him for some avenue of escape, but not finding any, he turned to the irate Chief. “Well, about three days ago, I got out of stir. I got what little stuff I had and hopped a train to the big city. I spent the first night here in a little hotel on the East Side, an’ while I was there, I heard the voice of ‘Shine’ Regals talkin’ over the phone in the next room. He said that some frame-up was okay. Well, he double-crossed me three years ago, and I thought I might figure some way to fix him. I trailed him to a little Greek