Pembroke High School - Mattakeesett Yearbook (Pembroke, MA)

Page 22 text:

THE WAMPUM 23 ing to the disbandment of the K. H. S. team. Batteries: Pembroke, Crowell and C. Johnson, Kingston, Henry and Howland. Struckout: Crowell, 133 Henry, 6. Base on Balls off Crowell, 2 5 off Henry, 4. Two Base Hits: Graham, Snow, Crowell and Raymond. P. H.. S. 2-P. A. 1 The second game with Partridge Academy proved to be a closely con- tested one. It developed into a pit- cher's battle between Crowell and Briggs, with the former a shade better than his rival. Pembroke secured its first run in the fourth, on a two bagger by Crowell, which sent Snow home. Partridge evened things up, however, in her half, when Crowell made a wild heave over second, which sent the little Duxbury catcher over the pan. Not until the ninth was P. H. S. able to put across the winning tally. With Snow on third, Fortesque tried to catch him napping and threw over the third baseman's head. Bill,' then romped home with the bacon. Summary: Two Base Hits, Crowell. Struckout, Briggs, 9 , Crowell, 15. Hit by pitcher, Burkett. Base on Balls, Crowell, 53 Briggs, 1. leisurely With the Partridge game ended Pembroke's schedule for the season. Seven games were played, all of which were won by Pembroke. This is a rec- ord of which the townspeople should be proud, and one for future teams to try to duplicate. Crowell was the unanimous choice for Captain and Burkett for Managerg but because the latter left school, Snow has been acting in that capacity. The baseball team for 1917 is much different from those that have repre- sented P. H. S. in the last two years. E. Johnson, Crossley and Graham were lost by graduation, and Burkett, our speedy shortstop, went to Rockland. We were, however, successful in hav- ing some very promising material from the incoming Freshman class, and Whitney, a Junior. The position of E. Johnson, last yearts heavy hitter and captain, has been taken by Whit- ney, who handles it like Jake Daubert. Snow has been shifted. to shortstop, where he is playing his accustomed good game. Markie is playing second, and Donnell again guards the hot corner,', a difficult place on account of the roughness of the ground. Our crack battery, Crowell and Johnson, were ready at the first call, the former twirled them over in fine style and his partner, Johnson, received them like a veteran. The number of candidates for the outfield was the largest in years, showing the interest each one has taken in the sport. Hill, West, and Torres are the first choice, with Roberts and Reed close seconds. We wish to thank Mr. Warner for his gift, and also Mr. Shepherd for the use of the Held. I The freshman stood on the burning deck, And so far as we can learn, He stood in perfect safety, For he was too green to burn. Ex. The young man led for a heart, The maid for a diamond played, The old man came down with a club. And the Sexton used the spade. Ex.,

Page 24 text:

24 THE WAMPUM . O, ENGLISH! DREAD ENGLISH O, English! dread English! my fear- ful test is doneg My brain has weathered every wrack, but has the mark been won? The end is near, the bell I hear, the scholars all exulting, While pencils scrape the last few lines on questions grim and scaring. But O test! test! test! 0 the cold drops of perspiration! While on the desk my paper lies, My iinal inspiration. A. F. C. '19, OUR TEAM The baseball team of Pembroke High Went up of a sudden into the sky. But Crowell, our captain of well-known fame, Hauled it down from that dangerous plane. Left by Johnson, Graham, and Burkett, dear, We thought we,d have a pretty tough year. But Whitney came from Everett far And rode to school in Bill .Howardis car. We,ve moved the players all around, And now theylre stepping on natural ground. So cheer for Pembroke H-igh once more, And welll be victorious as of yore. C. L. J. 317. A REVERIE If I had the wings of a bird I'd Hy Over the trees to Pembroke High, For the old home town my heart's a- yearning, Back in the place where I got my learn- mg. For in that town I know there's joy, 'Twas there I played When, a barefoot boy - I tucked my book-s underneath my arm And journeyed to school past the Pem- 'broke Farm! And when I reached the schoolhouse there, And saw the girls so pretty and fair, At their beauty I would ever thrill, That is the reason I never was ill. And as I think of my comrades still,- Crowell, Perham, Whitney, and Bill,- D'o they think, I wonder of, the fun we had, When each was a foolish, mischievous lad? If only the Lord would give to me, The little wings of the busy bee, O'er the towns I would quickly soar And land inside the High School door. A. H. D. ,18. THE LOST POEM I had a poem all eomposedg 'Twas jolly and sublime, Not only perfect in its style, But excellent in rhyme. I showed it to an aged aunt, One balmy summer morn, Now mind you, she ,was old and lame, With many an aching corn. She jumped and ran, then hung her head, And next she had a tit, And then she laughed, aye, loud and long, At last, I'd made a hit. She laughed so hard, her ears dropped off, But still she laughed away, She laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed, She laughed the whole long day.