Needham High School - Advocate Yearbook (Needham, MA)

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THE ADVOCATE L191 JANIE'S INSPIRATION Barbara Blake, '35 Janie Wilson ran a tanned hand through her mop of dark curls as she surveyed the contents of an article in one of the latest magazines, entitled uWhat Is Creative Genius?7' Janie was a most impulsive young lady, and the gleam in her dark eyes might well have been attributed to the growth of a sudden idea as she read the following lines: MA great composer of modern music says that most of his finest selections are the result of what he terms a 'sudden mental inspira- tion., He relates that one morning while he was at breakfast a tune suddenly came into his mind, he left the table, wrote out his composition, and sold it the following day for a fabulous pricef' Janie was the youngest daughter of a mu- sical family. Her mother was a fine pianist, her father had a well trained baritone voice, her sister was studying violin at the Conserv- atory, and even her brother, Kenneth, played the saxophone Qmuch to the distress of his motherj. Janie had no such talents. It is true she could strum the uuken, and tickle the ivoriesn a little. She had, however, one peculiar accomplishment. She always had some song at the tip of her tongue. f'The right song for the right occasion can work wondersf' was Janie's motto. For instance, last summer at the lake, countless evenings spent in watching the moon rise over old ulfllephantls Headl' with Jack, or Harry, or even Bill, had been converted into more than just the usual routine of watching the moon rise, by Janiels softly hummed strain, such as When the Moon Comes Over the Moun- tain. The night that she and Harry had paddled their canoe right up the silver path to the moon, she had unconsciously sung Mlsnat It Romantic?,' Evidently Harry thought it was for the next instant they had both been wildly clutching the sides of the canoe, while between fits of laughter Janie had sung out at the top of her lungs, MSingin' in the Bathtub. All of this goes to show that Janie was a most unusual and impulsive girl. Now as she heard the gong for dinner, she raised her lithe body from the chair, letting the magazine fall to the floor, and merrily whistling the popular song hit Please,'7 she dashed to the dining room. Janie always dashed every- where, and she whistled only because she intended to ask Dad for an increase in allowance. uDad,l' she said as she unfolded her nap- kin, how's chances of getting exactly two dollars and eighty-live cents extra this week?,' 'fAnd why the sudden need for two dollars and eighty-five cents? demanded her father. A dress, explained Janie. L'Nothing doingll' bellowed her father, and that was that. Had Janie been anywhere but at the table she would have burst out with Am l Bluef' but one simply cannot sing at the table, so she only glared furiously at Kenneth. Immediately after dinner she dashed up to Kennethis room. uluisten, Ken, live simply got to have that W dress. she declared breathlessly. uWhat7s it to me?'7 asked Ken heartlessly. Just this. l have an idea for getting the money and a little respect from my most musical family if you'll help mein Then she told him about the article about '4Creative Genius. Meanwhile Ken displayed pro-

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T181 THE ADVOCATE the scoring trophy, topping Flash by three points. He was given credit for the winning basket because he was the last one to touch it before it went through the hoop, even though it scored against his own team and he didn't shoot it. I don't think he got much satisfaction from that cup. Frothingham refused to present it to him publiclyf, Neff said the stranger, speaking for the first time since the story began. 'GI shouldn't think he would. The other man looked at his watch. Whe-w-w-W. Nine-thirty. My wife must be about ready to go home. I know I am, so I'll say good-night. Hope I havenft bored you. With a jaunty wave of his hand which belied his satisfaction of a story well told, he left the room. The big man stood silently for a moment, staring at the shiny cup. Then he looked at his hands. The middle finger of the right hand was bent and stiff, the result of a break many years before. A week later, Fred Burns, Attorney at Law, received at his office a well-wrapped package. Inside was a small, slightly tarnished silver cup. It was inscribed. HIGH SCORING TROPHY Awarded to FRED BURNS HIGHEST SCORER OF THE GREEN VALLEY BASKETBALL LEAGUE 1910 The name in the inscription had been re-engraved. ON ,IIG-SAW PUZZLES Eunice Whitaker, '33 MI really ought to go and finish those dishes.4Let me see, that piece will have a little doo-hickey on one side and a smooth curve on the end. Oh dear, it doesn't fit I- lVfy coat needs a button sewed on, and my skirt-Oh, thatfs the piece! Why, itfs a cat! Now wherefs his tail? There, that piece is the right color. Does it go there? No! Oh dear.-I'll have to draw hot dish-water, ittll be stone cold by now. Well, I'll just put one more piece in. Now, this piece ought to be easy to find. Square corners-long finger sticking out-where IS that piece?-I mustnft sit here any longer. With all my homework to do after I get the dishes-Hooray! Thatls it! Now a flat piece goes on here-- So on, ad infinitum. This is the sort of thing that is wrecking homes, ruining schol- astic records, sending book and magazine publishers into bankruptcy, and driving us out into the world buttonless. The inevit- able 'fevening of bridgew is now a thing of the past, and the 'fjig-saw puzzle partyw takes its place. Even over the radio, we are in- formed that if we send one label from a one- quart can of a certain paint, the 'fOld Paint- erf, will send us his attractive jig-saw puzzle in jig time. If conditions continue to go the way they are tending now, I have visions of Rem- brandts and Corots cut up into fascinating whirligigs and protruding toes, and even our beloved Senior pictures dissected and spread out upon card tables before distraught puzzle fiends. TO GUY LOMBARDO Clare Slurtevant, '33 A burst of chords of harmonizing tones- And Guy has started. Then, precise and clear Well-rounded notes of trumpets reach the ear, And soft, beneath the melody there moans The low and mellow croon of saxophones. In pauses at the ends of strains we hear The piano's tinkling trillsg and from the rear The low and lazy humming fiddle drones. The whole is such a perfect strain of notes I wonder how some people can refuse To hear, or hearing, do not comprehend The beauty of the tune which smoothly floats Out to the eager listening throng who lose Themselves, immersed in musicfs rhythmic blend.

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IZOJ THE ADVOCATE found indifference. Now you know that I have countless songs in my head, and why canit I have a sudden inspiration as well as that man in the article? If youill help me write my song-after I get an inspiration, I'll hint very subtly to Eleanor that you're crazy about her. Or we can halve the spoilsf, she finished generously. G'Sure, Illl help you write your song when fand if you get an inspiration, but you keep out of my affairs. We'll divide the spoilsf' The next morning at precisely ten minutes past five Kenneth raised himself sleepily up on his elbow at the sound of ,lanie's apologetic voice at his door. '4Are you asleep, Kenny? Iam terribly sorry but I have something important to tell youf' Kenneth, prepared for a fire or a sudden death, jumped quickly to the door. I've had my inspirationln Ja n i e announced. Between them they finally finished writing the tune down. Kenneth had a rather unholy twinkle in his eye, but Janie was too rapt up in her uinspirationw to notice. At eleven o'clock she dashed out of the house toward the Goldberg Music Company, humming merrily HHappy Days Are Here Again,'7 and carrying her precious Minspira- tionw under her arm. When she arrived at the music store she asked for an interview with Mr. Goldberg and sat down beside a radio to wait. The announcer was announc- ing that the next number was to be the newest song-hit, L'Maybe I Made a Mistakef' The orchestra played the opening bars of a haunting melody, and Janie suddenly sat erect, for her own song, that song she had thought to be an inspiration, came to her shocked ears. For a moment she felt as though she might cry as she saw both the lovely dress and her self-esteem float off into space. Then she rose abruptly and walked out of the store humming sadly, Maybe I Made a Mistake. ONE THING CERTAIN Albert W. Hopson, fr., 733 I surely am no poet And the fact that you all know it, Will enable you to see What a hx it is for me, When dear teacher says quite gayly, Yvrite some Milton or some Daly. Of a feeling we're to write, But my good life4'tis so tritefg Yields forth these humble letters To impress upon my betters, That no matter how they look. Theyill not see me a Rupert Brooke. .IOYS OF A FINGER WAVE Marjorie Lunsford, 733 A gala occasion exciting eager anticipa- tion, an overwhelming desire to look oneis very best upon said occasion, a ways and means consultation with onels weekly allow- ance to discover what drastic measures will be necessary under present circumstances, net result-an excursion to the nearest beauty parlor-Hwhere Sue got her permanent, you knowl' - for a general refurnishing of Womanls crowning glory. Oh, yes, a frenzied hunt through the telephone book, and our young heroine makes her appointment for Thursday afternoon, three-thirty sharp. Always punctual, she arrives at her Mecca on the dot, and is assured by a smiling hairdresser, Not more than two minutesfi Grabbing the nearest magazine, 'clfilm I7un,', she resignedly waits, critically observing the prograss of various embryo waves, as she scans the doings of the stars After the two minutes have graduated to eighteen or twenty, she is informed by the still-smiling hair-dresser that all is in readi- ness for the operation. A First she is led to a low chair where her neck is twisted out of shape and her head