Needham High School - Advocate Yearbook (Needham, MA)

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THE ADVOCATE f13l LOST MANUSCRIPT Elinor Bowker, '35 The well-known novelist, Varney, climbed the long Hight of stairs to his attic room with a broad smile on his red face. The froth of an early mug of beer hung on his drooping mustache. He pounded himself briskly on the chest when he thought of his fifteenth novel lying completed on his desk. Best ever, he muttered, alluding to his novel. c'Couldn't be a better hero in a book than Dickey, sheik though he is. Ladies like him pretty wellf, Varney climbed on, chuckling as he went. He sprang heavily up the stairs to his door, and, pushing the sacred portal open, he peeped inside. He liked to see his beloved manuscript lying neatly on the desk lid. Suddenly Varney leaped into his room with an angry shout, for there-there were the pages of his precious manuscript scat- tered over the desk and fioor. Crimly Varney picked up the papers and arranged them. At a slight sneeze behind him Varney wheeled about, astonished. There on the old couch, barely discernible in the gray light of the dying day, Varney saw-Dickey, the sheik. HK - k - k - ker -- choo li' sneezed Dickey. MClimbed out of the old book. Whoever heard of a hero with a cold? Oh-h-bl My head aches, by nose tickles, my throat's sore, and my eyes water. I'm burning all over but my feet are cold. Bring me another blanket quicklv Wildly Varney obeyed and he brought other things toofa hot water bag, broth, pil- lows, and medicine. He replaced the silk handkerchief with two substantial cotton squares, and he removed from Dickey's but- tonhole the ever-fresh Carnation, which seemed to make Dickey sneeze the more. All night through Varney sat by the couch and soothed the miserable man. Between his fitful dozings Dickey upbraided himself for having such an unromantic sickness as a cold. He coughed, sneezed, sniffied, and groaned, but disturbed not Varney, who was as patient with Dickey as a mother with an erring child. After a long noisy sleep, at dawn Dickey woke and hailed Varney with a weak smile on his pale face. 'Think I'll get well?,' Dickey inquired with such hope in his high-pitched voice that Varney took the child of his brain to his heart. 4'Surc, you will get well. We'll carry you through it, he replied in his gruff voice. He went to the other side of the room to hide his face for he knew that Dickey had pneu- monia. Varney lifted l1is head and prayed to Cod that he would get well. For a week Varney slaved for Dickey, who only grew paler and thinner every hour. Sometimes he was delirious, and he always raved of the same thingfthe absurdity of a magnificent hero having a common yet ter- rible cold like this. One foggy morning Varney sat beside Dickey and watched his only child die. Dickey clung to his hand to the end and tried to tell himself that he was not dying, that a hero could not die, that a hero lives forever. Varney watched him with tear-filled eyes, and when Dickey's eyes had closed, and the carnation had wilted, 'Varney slumped in his chair and went to sleep with tears trickling down his nose. At midnight Varney gathered the crumpled form of Dickey up in his arms and carried him far out into the country. There, beside an apple tree, he buried him and erected this marker over the grave. Here Lies Dickey Hero of My Fifteenth Novel Varney Varney went home and burned his novel. He said as he watched the leaves curl up

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V L l :- IIZJ THE ADVOCATE a stern glance as the sneezes continued. Jane leaned over Aunt Hannah and solemnly offered the sufferer a handkerchief. Judy nodded gratefully and the sneezes subsided. Ten minutes later, during the morning prayer, Jane began to hic-cough with a rhythmic gulp which seemed to Aunt Hannahis imagination to extend in all directions. MHold your breath and count to seven,', she whispered guiltily. Imagine Aunt Han- nah whispering in church! Judy looked shocked. So did Aunt Hannah! The hic-coughs continued and then poor Judy felt another spell coming on. Glancing quickly at Aunt Hannah, she raised Jane's handkerchief to her nose and began to sneeze. The minister talked on, Jane coughed on, and Judy continued to sneeze convulsively. In an effort to stop, she dropped her hymn book with a clatter, and Aunt Hannalfs cheeks became redder and redder, although the at- mosphere in the church was becoming frigid. Finally, the benediction was pronounced and Aunt Hannah propelled the choking girls home without even bowing to the minister. Judy collapsed on the sofa, as Aunt Hannah went upstairs, and giggled hysteri- cally. u0h! Judy,', shrieked Jane, '4didn't that pepper in our handkcrchiefs work marvel- ously?'7 'Sweet Revenge! sighed Judy, wiping her streamin' eyes. A. funny expression crossed her face as her nose twitched convulsively. '4Oh-Oh-Oh! Jane, the pep-pep-pep-perl Katchoolw SN OWFALL Phyllis Brown, '33 The earth needs a new dress. Her last week's white one is tattered and torn, Splashed with mud and trampled. Tomorrow morning she will awake Clothed anew in glittering white. RAIN Virginia Sanborn, '35 W'hat is rain? lVIr. Webster would have us believe that it is water in drops dis- charged from the clouds. Wfell, I donit blame the clouds for discharging it! Of all the miserable, disgusting, useless elements, I consider rain to be the worst! And it always comes just when you don't want it to. When you are all ready for a picnic, or some other outing, some observing individual is certain to inform you that clouds are gathering in the west, and that he just felt a drop of rain. Mother thinks you had better stay home, al- though father says it will be all right to take a chance. So you stay home. There are some people, however, who actu- ally enjoy rain. I happened to meet one of these lunatics the other day. HDO you knowfi he said, HI get thc biggest thrill out of walking in the rain?'7 Well, if anyone finds anything thrilling about getting all bundled up in a raincoat, hat, galoshes, and umbrella, only to be soaked to the bone, heas welcome to it. But personally, I think such people should be consigned to an institution 'for the feeble- minded. Then, there are those who will say that rain is a necessity, they are right, it prob- ably is. But as soon as the depression is over, and I'm rich again, I'm going to buy a huge mansion in the Sahara Desert, and for- get there ever was such a thing as rain. JIGSAW PUZZLES Hilda Lane, '35 Lunatics, madmen Set loose from a pen. The world has come to A pretty state, when They cut up pictures In small pieces, then They try to put them Together again.

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IMI THE ADVOCATE in the leaping hre, L'I'll do it because my hero has died, but he is my only hero who has ever lived. fl: Pk :lf Years later a wandering man found a marker with the immortal Varney's name written upon it. With the help of friends he dug far into the earth, but all they found was a hardened carnation, its white petals gray with the work of the ages. TO BE READ WHEN YOU ARE STUCK IN THE SNOW Richard Warren, '33 Donft start swearing, pal, or you will never get out. I know the road is slippery, your tires are smooth, your gas is low, you haven't any chains, and you want to go places in a hurry. I've been in your shoes many times and I didn't have time to wait for the snow to melt around the car. It is a very delicate and complicated system, this getting out of drifts or what have youg but if you follow directions carefully you may get out. Usually when you start driving in a snow- storm, you donit think of bringing along a shovel in case you do get stuck. But if, by chance, Providence hath lain a shovel in the rear of the family car, you are in luck. All you have to do is shovel the drift away, and then try to keep from sliding into another. You are fortunate if you happen to be stuck on a hill. If your car is fairly light, like my Chevvy, it won't be so hard. Try putting the car into first or reverse and see where you get-probably farther into the drift. Then try pushing, downhill of course. If this doesnat work, leave the engine run- ning, put it into reverse and push, but make sure you leave the door open so that, when it does start going out of the drift, you can hop in and guide the car to the bottom of the hill. Then begin your ascent anew. You'll probably get stuck again, but keep trying until you succeed. You couldn't think of turning around and taking another road. If you are stuck on the level without a shovel, you are in for a tough time. Ask the man who knows. You may be able to push it if you are big enough, or think you are. You may be able to kick the drift away with feet and arms used windmill fashion. But I think it would be best for you to sit inside, cool your heels, and wait until somebody with chains comes along and pushes you out. This last method may make you think you are a parasite on society, but not at all, most people like to help fellow men in distress. I consider it the best way, too. It saves you a strained back the next morning. fHave I ever had those?I It saves gas and tires, which is much more appealing to the pater when you arrive at the old homestead. fDon,t I know itll I So, if you are behind on sleep, sleep while waiting for a kind fellow adventurer of the broad highway-but you're probably on a byway. Look at the scenery, glance over your road map, do anything you like, and see if I care. Good luck, pall MBUDDYH Anna Curtin, 733 Like a ray of brightest sunshine His cheery smile flashed, Bringing gladness to the hearts Of those he passed. His eyes were ever twinkling With the fun he loved so well, And his voice was full of laughter As it gaily rose and fell. A kindly spirit of helpfulness, A willingness to do- These made me love and honor him His whole life through. And when at last I have fulfilled The final act of Fate, I know that NBuddy will be there, At Heaven,s golden gate.