Newton High School - Newtonian Yearbook (Newton, MA)

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THE NEWTON HIGH SCHOOL ANNUAL Class Hymn By ALICE GORDON Bovnaw OD preserve our Alma Mater, Guard and keep her we irnplore Help her glorious work to do In the years that are before her, As she has done in the pastg May her infiuence be about us, Guiding us while life shall last. . 'We who now go from these portals, Witnesses desire to be Of her strength and of her wisdom, Showing by our lives, that we In our hearts have kept her teachings, And by loyal service true, In the joy of helping others, Give unto her honor due. Alma Mater, we salute thee! Thanks and blessings we bestow, And tho' soon we're widely scattered, This our prayer where'er we go:- God preserve our Alma Mater, Newton High School, tried and true, Guard and keep her we implore Thee, Guide her all her journey through. Newton High School, tried and true: Thee

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10 THE NEWTON HIGH SCHOOL ANNUAL The F lame BY S. FOSTER DAMoN, 1910 Scene 1. CA wild tangled opening in the heart of an African jungle. Prostrate on the ground is a man, an African warrior, regardless of the burning sun which floods the forest. The foliage is that of lurid autumn.j QThe man remains still for a while, then he lifts his head.j The Man.--But still I remain alive, and so do they .... They are so weak, there, back in their villageg they could not endure a murderer, who merely asserted his rights. What though I did kill him, the sheep !-vdid he not dare to steal my meat, my gazelle that I myself had waylaid? He lives by theft! Oh, I could burn the whole ant-heap of them! . . . The very vines, reddened by this late, hot autumn, are as Sanguine as my thoughts. Nature herself seems to be urging my plans on to completion. As I left the mud huts, I warned them that my vengeance would be terrible. The women skulked more than usual, the young men laughed their scom even more boastfullyg they drove me still harder, and with difficulty did I escape them. They seek me no further, I know their infirmity of purpose. But I am not infirm! No, they shall suffer, all of them! . . . The spear kills one with many blows, while fire, the gift of Joba, eats all without effort. What though I perish in the flames myself, if so many die with me? The knowledge that they will scream in agony will cool me like a spring breeze as I offer myself as a first victim .... Joba, the sun, was I named after. He took me under his protection after I killed my first tiger fso said the old priest, if he is to be believedj. joba gave us fire, so I shall be dutiful in using his gift, as well as in destroyingg for is he not the great destroyer? I will burn the forest with its multitudes of beasts and snakes, the forest will burn the village, the plains, the deserts, even the great sea, until the entire world will blaze like a huge platter of palm-oil! Joba him- self will grow red with envy at his son's handiwork! CI-Ie tries to make a fire. His impatience is soon rewarded: a tiny smoke springs up. I t is fed with dead leaves,' it is blown upon,' soon it bursts into flame. He drags dry branches on it,' it grows higher and higher, until it is taller than he, always crackling and hissing spitefully. Then suddenly a woman's form is perceived in the fire, very faint and indistinct, but constantly growing plainer as the flames flash up. She is dancing wildly, flinging her arms and long, black hair over her head in purest ecstacy of new-born existence. She seems to be the genius of the jire. He sees her, awestruckj joba.-Who is that wonderful creature there in the fire? Whence can she have sprung? Will she do me a hurt? But no, she does not heed me, she sees nothing, she is thinking of nothing but her dancing. I never saw such dancing,