North Quincy High School - Manet Yearbook (North Quincy, MA)

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4 MANET howlin'. that slipknot of wat.-1-spout just strained tighter and tigl1ter and bust the boat to bits. Poor fellers. them that was in it. I be so moved to my very innards by the loss of them brave men. that I plum forgit to steer my own boat. And my men were all appalled like, still at their oars. So when all hands took a squint through the tlyin' spume all about there, we war blown way half up the side of a ugly tilted waterspout, wit.h the sea a-goin' away and the sky, so fur as we could jedge. a comin' nearer. As there was signs. then of a sudden, of the storm a-goin' to abate, there war but one thing to do. Them spouts when they die out split in the middle. And the splittin' war commencin' and our escape down the spout war cut oft. There warn 't but one thing to do. and that war to row to the top of the spout. And on reachin' near the top, all we cud do was ter throw out the anchor to keep us from a slidin' down. And now comes the incredible part. There we were anchored up there with the crew all prayin' for forgiveness and confessin' to me as their captain as how they'd drunk up all the ium. Then as they grew more hysterical-like in the tlyin' spray up there, for yer couldn't see nawthin' for the mess o' fiyin' seawater up the side o' that spout. the boat seemed to be kind o' gently settlin'. YVe war sort ol sinkin' down through the thinnin' waters of the, worn- out spout. And, just as we War all expectin' to suddenly drop miles down into the furious waters. there seemed to come a gentle scrapin' on the bottom of the boat and the sweetest smell like o' beautifuous flowers. And, would yer believe it, we found ourselves settin' right on mother earth. embowered in the sweet foliag'e of a tropical mountain paradise. That thar spout had stretched right over from the sea till it become connected and fastened like onto the summit of a mountain. So, when the cussed thing died away. we wafted gently down a few teet until the danged lifeboat was restin, on the handiest mountain peak I ever come 2lcl'oss, Q A Bag at the illnir I was one of the many fortunate people who spent a glorious holiday at the XVorld's Fair. Almost every industry believable was presented in some form of building there. If you should take the time to consider one-half of the num- erous types of businesses which we have today. you would maintain only a rough estimate of the vast collection and the time of planning and preparation which was involved in creating these wondrous marvels. It was indeed a ' C Century of Progress. The tall and short buildings were constructed of all sorts of geometric contrivances and shapes. One surpassed all feeling of dizziness in even attempting to gaze at the skyscrapers and towers. Besides height and structure. they displayed artful blends of color. The huge Hall of Science had the appearance of a bril- liantly illuminated metal and glass creation. soaring from colored terraces. Leading up to this predominating structure of magnificence, was the striking Avenue of Flags which lent an air of pomp and gaiety to the fair. Elec- tricity's wizardry was unfolded in a sickle- shaped group of buildings embellished with hanging gardens, steel cypress trees. and elec- tric cascades and fountains. The temperature registered by the great Texaco thermometer 1020. There had been a lack of rainfall which resulted in a drought and all the dilapidated corn tiields could be discerned for miles around the outskirts of the city. The intense heat made us very thirsty and we had to content ourselves by drinking tonic. as the scanty water supply was said to contain a form of poisoning. My greatest thrill was the sky ride. On this trip I reached a height of over a thousand feet into midair. I rode in a small cart which soared up, up into twin towers of a height greater than that of the Empire State Build- ing. I experienced a breath-taking sensation upon my rapid descent and witnessed another peculiar feeling when I reached good old Mother Earth once again. My condition might have been interpreted as an acute attack of both seasickness and dizziness. Despite all this nausea. however, I continued on my sight- seeing tour with much eagerness. Among the various villages represented was the Bowery of New York which portrayed the famous Brooklyn Bridge where that famed per- son, Steve Brody, accomplished his miracu- lous diving feat. The early Colonial and French periods were displayed in all their quaintness, and appeared very realistic. I con- sidered the Indian village the most interesting with its war dances and medicine chieftains. The Enchanted Island was a tive-acre won- derland for the children attending tl1e fair. They derived great pleasures from the magic moun- tain, tropical garden, children 's theater, and the miniature railroad. At dusk a glamorous dis- play of fireworks arrayed' all the heavens and

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MAN ET 3 aturv in the iKauu STEPHEN R. PUTNAM, I2-I Some three years ago I expectantly visited my old friend. Captain Jonathan Bilgewater. then ninety-three years old. Hllll busy carving out ship models at a great rate. The morning I came up to l1is cottage on tl1e Maine coast, it was blowing a gale from the southeast. The wind carried salt spray to the front doorstep. In response to my o11e ring on the bell a genial white-bearded face greeted me. The captain cocked his eyes toward the sea. There was a peculiar light in those grey eyes. I knew it of old. Then he bade me enter. As he drew two comfortable chairs up to the fireplace. he ap- peared quite anxious to see me. When we were both seated, he handed me a five- center, lighted his from an ember, puffed away while he stared ahead, and spat vigor- ously from the corner of his mouth into the fire. Finally, after he had stared awhile at. a ship model on the mantelpiece, he shot a quick direct look at me. I caught that peculiar glint of the eyes again. I knew he was bursting with a tale. Roger, he said to 1116 in a very solemn tone, I'm now pretty well along in years, my boy, and as I'm likely to slip my cable any minute, there 's been one thing that I've been wishing to tell yer. That's of my Hrst voyage as captain aboard the clipper 'Yataganf I've never told a soul this tale before because I've always been afraid that they'd think I was a lunatic, but I know I can trust you, Roger, so, listen well. I thanked him for the compliment. After blowing a few smoke rings. the while he seemed to be looking intently at some far off land, he began his amazing story. IVell, he says. it all began in 1851. XVe had just discharged our cargo in a small port in southern Franceg but, as we were unable to secure a cargo for Singapore, we were forced to take on ballast in the only available form. which was five hundred barrels of rum. As we started out with all that weight aboard, the vessel rode as steady as the Rock of Gibraltar. However, after sailing along fine for about three days, the ship connnenced to act queerly. As time wore on. light breezes seemed to keel her over more and more. Day by day she ap- peared to draw less water. Then, to make matters worse, the crew said they were be- coming affected by the off motion of the ship. Now, they kept below decks more than usual. When they did come on deck, the way that they staggered around was frightful. I even caught whatever was in the air m'self, and began to feel dizzy-like and to roll round like the men. A certain day things became so bad that one of our most reliable seamen slipped off a yardarm and fell into tl1e sea. However. when he be fished out, it war amazing how normal he acted. though be it only for a few hours. In the meantime the ship seemed to grow lighter and lighter, so light that even a tive knot breeze canted her well over. And to make matters worse, during the night the barometer fell so far that the needle made several revolutions before coming to rest. which meant we were in for a terrific htu'ricane or worse. I ordered all canvas off her. That done, we were all startled by tl1e cry, 'Land, Ho !' from the starboard watch. I whisked out my spy- glass and peered at the land. A moment later. how well I remember. I bust out with. 'Holy Jumpin' Jehosophat. it looks like we must be makin' on the land like greased lightnin'! Must be a bad current herel' No sooner had I said it than we were close enough to make out the trees. They looked like giant twisted oaks. iIVow!' cried the Cook. 'thats no forest, them 's a nest o'water- spoutsf XVhen the truth bust on us, there was bustle, I tell yer, men goin' round like a lot. o' bees. I got two boats away in a twinklin' with all the crew safe aboard them. The crew. though. seemed to kind of leave the old ship reluctant like. They had kind o' sad faces as they gazed at her as we rowed away. A slight breeze whipping ahead of the storm caught her broached-to. Over the old ship went on her beam ends and then she sank right out .of sight. Next came the storn1. It made a joke out of the days of Noah's Ark. The roar of the wind and sea was deafening. A big wave circling round the thousands of waterspouts eaine on us and filled both life- boats to the gunwales. Before tl1e boats could sink. came the 111ain blast, the hurricane itself, such a wind never man saw before, I vow. It just whipped half t.he water out of the boats. Seeing that. the men bent to their oars. I dodged my boat in and out around and among them waterspouts. The other boat. was not so lucky. And what do you suppose? IVell, here 's the wonderful part. One of them waterspouts be so flung down by the terrific blast that it just flew itself into a slipknot and tied itself, as it were. right around that other unlucky boat. And with that perfidious blast still a

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MANET 5 was very pleasing to the eye. There were throngs of people crowded at each side show and place of interest. lt was almost an impossible feat to cross the city thoroughfares because there are no subways. and long lilies of street cars progressed slowly on through the massive traffic, one after the other in single tile. Chicago also holds its marauding corner. il witnessed the section where John Dillinger, alleged gangster, met his death after he had stepped out of a cheap theater. Tl1e exact spot where the happening took place was pointed out to many sightseers with eager interest. The bleak and desolate alleys were typical of the inhabitants of the underworld. The atmos- phere was made all the more weird and allur- ing by the cans of blood-red paint whose con- tents were spread over every object in view by newspaper men busily involved in filming the horrible SCPIIPS. One could have enjoyed wondrously eventful days at the fair. and not have been able to see all that there was available. lf our feet had had the power to speak for themselves l am sure we wouldn't have seen one-half of what we had set out to view. The 'it'entury of Progress might be better described as 'fllt' Worlds Exposition since the idea of a fair brings to 1ny mind a small country festival, similar to the 'l'opstield Fair, where the women chatter busily and exchange what petty gossip or local scandal they have accumulated, and farmers discuss crop conditions and livestock. The eager Chicago spectators have traveled from many different parts of the country and lend a cosmopolitan atmosphere, while at the county fair everyone is right at home. XVonderful opportunities, both educational and entertaining, were afforded us by this Cen- tury of Progress and in my estimation our minds were enriched with that rare beauty and art which is oftentimes overlooked by us in this connnon everyday business world. Glruiar nf the Ivrumarhn 1 Cast off the mooring, Stan! Okey doke! Let 's go, Clitflt' The scene was aboard a forty-four foot yawl in XVollaston Bay. The yawl was the Tecum- seh, owned by Mr. G. A. Johnson of Quincy. She was a long, sleek yacht. with beautiful lines. Aboard the f'Tecumseh were three boys in their teens. Most prominent of the trio was Clifford Royce Johnson, son of the owner. a tall, husky fellow who appeared older than his sixteen years. He had broad shoulders and an altogether fine physique, with large, clear, sparkling blue eyes and light brown hair. His companion and partner in many incidents, happy and unhappy, was Stanley Bruce Adair. Stan was also of good physique, although lean and wiry, but strong as an ox. He had black. curly hair and laughing brown eyes. The third member of the group was John Tildale Taylor. a year younger than his clunns. He was the smallest of the three. -lackie, as lie was called, had brown hair and green eyes. The three friends were always seen together and were labelled The Three Musketeers by one ot their parents. but this title had since degen- erated to The Three Musty Beers. A moderate easterly breeze was blowing and the Tecumseh picked up speed as she sailed close hauled under mainsail, jigger, and jib. Hoist the jib staysail andthe jib topsail, you fellows! shouted Cliff from his post at the wheel. The boys jumped to carry out his orders and soon the Tecumseh was making better speed under the additional sail area. They headed out between Long and Rainsford Islands and came about off Nubble Channel. They proceeded up Nantasket Roads, in a series of short hitches, to Boston Light. Off Boston Light they were passed by a beautiful seventy-tive foot high speed commuter. She had rounded, stainless steel deckhouses har- monizing with the somewhat sheer lines of her hull. Such boats are built for fast commuting between a seaside home and the city in whigh thc ownei-'s place of business is located, for example. Here the Tecumseh set out on a long starboard tack seaward. 'tHold her at seventy, Cliff said to Stan who was now at the wheel. Cliff and Jackie, stripped to the waist, were stretched out. wherever they could find room, enjoying a sun- bake. As the Tecumseh7' proceeded she was cir- cled by a roaring speedboat. The passengers waved to the boys and straightening out she Slwfl HWHY- LHT91' 011 Stan sighted a sail. Gradually they overtook the other boat. She was the fforonia ll, a small cruiser of sloop Fifi- For a short. distance it was nip and tuck. but slowly the Tecumseh overtook and passed the other boat. XVith the Coronia ll not far astern, they were overtaken bv H10 Uf'l'mlt YH 3 lHl'5l'f' yawl, long and sleekf Her owner shouted, How about a race?