Needham High School - Advocate Yearbook (Needham, MA)

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f10l THE ADVOCATE heard a fanfare of trumpets and the muffled drumming of many feet. Uniform followed uniform in seeming infinite procession, then crash and shock and tumultuous din, agonized cries and hot oaths sworn against the God who would allow such carnage. The stench was overpowering and he nearly reeled, but as suddenly as it began it ceased, and the music became cold and emotionless. A maiden clad in purest white armor moved gravely across the battle field. The violins were carrying the melody again, and Paluchi felt something of the awe and moving great- ness of that white hgure of Death. Tenderly she touched a body lying on the battle field and the soldier rose and followed her. The sorrow of ages was upon her brow as shc passed, and Paluchi felt a magnetic im- pulse and tried to follow her. Meanwhile the violins soared higher with a coldness of tone that transcended the finite and took on some- thing of the infinite. Then-a burst of music as the programme ended, and he was follow- ing her along with many others. It was thought strange by some in the audience that one violinist moved not at all, nor rose to bow with the orchestra. RADIOS Fred Shaker, 734 Buzz! Crackle! Snap! I am alone in the house and listening to my favorite program on the radio. The radio begins its daily protest to the usage it receives. I wouldn't mind it so much if it would happen while someone else is listening to it, but it always takes to these spasms when I am sitting beside it. At the beginning of the usual procedure I grimly resolve, with the integrity of ,my ancestors at Bunker Hill, either to stop that infernal noise or the radio. So, with fire in my eye, I search for the hammer, screw- driver, and monkey-wrench. After a very aggravating search for the hidden weapons, I finally discover them in an obscure corner. My ardor somewhat daunted by the search, I return to the radio. On hearing again its angry growl, my dampened ardor soars to the unattained heights. I peer into the bowels of my patient and begin operations on the tubes. After removing them, I place them at a little distance from the cause of my indignation. I then take out the screws and nuts. Some of the nuts show fight and, not being able to move them with the wrench, I take to the hammer. As my arm rises for the third blow, the traitorous head takes leave of the handle and makes a forced landing smashing the complete set of tubes. Nevertheless I continue to remove the nuts and screws until I have a miscellaneous col- lection. Not finding any apparent ailment in my harsh-toned patient, I proceed in my attempt to replace its vitals. After many grunts and the wasting of much needed energy by my somewhat strained vocal chords, I succeed in getting a fraction of them back again, but much to 1ny dismay I have more parts than places to put them. just then in bursts the rest of the family. After my paying for eight new tubes and a Grst class electrician, my enterprises are very much stunted for the next few weeks. Now I turn on the radio and listen contentedly to the pent up explosions of '4Crackle! snap! buzzli' saved for my special entertainment by the diabolical mechanism. THE WAY TO LIVE Mayola Wall, '34 To be today the best I can, And see each duty through, To fail no friend, or anyone, But simply be true blue. To leave the cares of yesterday Wrapped up in clouds of hope, And make tomorrow's brilliant dawn Contain a wider scope.

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THE ADVOCATE L9j XX X C4 'x iv I T X M xxx fx r 'N , N L. f , I - THE HAPPINESS THAT WAS PALUCHPS Royal Abbott, T33 Timidly Paluchi shifted his weight from foot to foot and sought to conceal l1is eagerness. ul never had the chance to study under a lllllSl0l',7, he pleaded, Ubut, ah Cod! He who has seen the sun setting over the towers of St. Elmo in Napoli would play the violin even without teachingf' The color that had been rising to his wizened checks began to recede and he continued more calmly, G'lVfy teachers were--just teachers. l know lim not equal to the more difficult tech- nique, but still-- and his voice trailed away into Wistfulness. The Director considered. Paluchi was getting pretty old. Already he seemed to totter slightly, or perhaps that was just imagination. Wxielllw the Director somewhat briskly ejaculated, H1711 let you play your precious fiddle at the next concertfi Then, not wishing to dampen the little manis joy by appearing harsh, he added more cheer- fully, lt won't require any skill you havenit got. The numbers on the programme are, l imagine, quite familiar to you. The little Italian rushed excitedly away after profusc thanks that threatened to become embarrassing to the Director. The evening that Paluchi had awaited for a life-time arrived. He precipitated himself into the orchestra pit and shortly afterwards the conductor's baton started the music that raced Paluchi's mind through all the fantasies of creation. The music was light, rapid, and soon Paluchi saw himself as the little boy running again in the streets of lXapoli, playing naked around the fountain in the market-place. For an instant the notes of his score looked like the drops of water that he had splashed so gleefully at the young girls, who carrie ostensibly to till their pitchers, but really to gossip in the warm sun and shake their black hair with laughter. Then the score once more took on its formal black and white correct- ness, and Paluchi, looking at the conductor, felt the warm soul of his violin leap and quiver at every beckon of the leader. Then the music became softer, was sus- tained mainly' by the violins, and its slow sensuality' quickened the poundings of blood at his temples. The color mounted to his cheeks with the increasing fire of the music, and before his eyes young men and supple black-eyed girls were dancing in a courtyard to the low song of violins. He remembered those nights, so warm, yet quickened by the cool wind, the soft laughter and voices, the gaiety, the love-making, and high above all the ancient ltalian moon. Nowhere in the World was the moon so passionately beautiful as in his Napoli. The figures suddenly vanished and Paluchi t 1

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THE ADVOCATE flll SWEET REVENGE Betty Griffin, 735 Judy Brown led her 'ggangv into all kinds of mischief, and was the impertinent spoiled darling of her doting father's heart. Then Aunt Hannah Brown arrived, bag and bag- gage, and Judy became the object of her persecutions. Aunt Hannah was Mr. Brown's only sister, a typical New England spinster with a very stern conscience. Why, the child was going from bad to worse since her mother died, and since Aunt Hannah was the only near relative she considered it her duty to take charge. A few mornings later Judy was cozily curled up in bed, for she considered vacation the time to be lazy. A sharp knock sounded on her door at about nine oiclock and, not receiving an answer Aunt Hannah stalked in with her usual firm tread. Judy frowned in annoyance, but quickly smoothed her fore- head and remained sweetly sleeping. MJudith, wake up. I say-wake upiw commanded Aunt Hannah, enunciating each word crisply and decisively. A mild snore came from the bed, then a dead silence. '6Judith, I will count to ten before I act. Make up your mind quickly. One, twof, fanother snorel, three, four, fivefi fa groan as the figure on the bed turned over,J Hsix, seven, eight, nine,', fa louder snorej uten. Well?', Aunt Hannah silently walked from the room, her back ram-rod straight and bristling with indignation. Judy stretched like a sleepy kitten, winked wickedly at a spot of sunlight dancing on the ceiling and prepared to snooze until noon. Aunt Hannah returned almost immediately and grimly gazed at the innocent, apparently sleeping face on the pillow. uJudith Brown, every morning for five days I have called you for breakfast and you have continued to sleep. Will you or will you not get up?,, As the only reply was a pathetic snore, Aunt Hannah deliberately doused the icy contents of a tumbler of water into her niece's face. The result was quite effective. Judy started up with a yell and peered angrily through the little streams of water dripping from her tousled hair. Then in sullen silence she arose and sailed from the room with her head held high. That afternoon Judy snuggled in the porch hammock and busily wrote for a few minutes on a large piece of paper with 4'Bevenge', in bold letters at the top. Finally, she ceased writing and stamped around the porch, gesticulating wildly, and mumbling fiercely to herself. MAhal Miss Hannah Brown, you would treat your loving niece so wickedly, would you! I, Sir Rowland, the fair ladyis suitor and obedient servant, do challenge you-li' uWell for pity sakes! Whatis the matterfw cried a young girl's surprised voice. Er-Oh! Hello, Jane, come on up. I've been thinking. Don't strain yourselfli' flippantly cried Jane Walsh, Judyis best friend and 'gpartner in crimefa MNOW listen, Janef' said Judy, Myou've got to help me get revenge on Hannah. This is my plan. Jane listened delightedly to Judy's scheme, for Aunt Hannah had interrupted many choice bits of mischief. Finally, she said, What fun! I just canlt wait until Sunday! She is so strict about our behavior in Church. Letis call up now and see if I can spend the week-end with you. On Sunday morning two carefully subdued girls prepared to go to church with Aunt Hannah. When the church bell rang Aunt Hannah, with the sedate two girls, seated herself in the Brown pew. In the hush of the silent congregation, Judy suddenly began to sneeze violently. Aunt Hannah gave her