Plymouth High School - Pilgrim Yearbook (Plymouth, MA)

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THE- PHJGRIM 29 THE EPOCH MAKER Good afternoon, gentlemeng I sup- pose you're reporters. Am I right? No? Well, at any rate, I know you want me to tell you about my great feat of engineering. Have a seat--pardon me-do you see my armchairs anywhere ?-Well, I guess the office boy took them home with him. Never mind, perhaps there's room for you on that bench. I've always believed it could be done. It was one of my boyhood dreams. Everyone, when I applied for financial assistance, said it was a crazy idea, but I've done it, gentlemen, I've done it! Three months ago America was con- nected to Asia only by steamships ply- ing back and forth, but now the two continents are closely linked together by a bridge one hundred and fifty miles long reaching from Cape Prince of Wales in to East Cape in Asia! It is a superhuman accomplishment, gentle- men, the product of a genius who-but please, please, gentlemen, spare me this embarrassment, for I still retain the modesty which was my most becoming characteristic in my childhood days. Other great engineers have made it a practice to start on the shore and build towards the center of the span, but I started at the center and worked to- wards the shore as well. The bridge is made of wood for a very good reason. Wood, as you may know, floats, so I built sections of the bridge on the shore, towed them out and weighted these sec- tions down with rocks. Of course the ballast clutters up the top of the bridge somewhat, but nothing is perfect. One of my worst setbacks was ex- perienced when we were putting the third section in. When we weighted it down, it sank into the mud until its sur- face was fifty feet below the level of the rest of the bridge. That difficulty was readily overcome by installing escalators at both ends of that section. Just before I left we had a cold spell and the bridge in contracting drew a- part in the middle. I had my men put a few planks across the gap, so that no one would be annoyed by it, and we have only to lift those planks up to allow boats to pass through the,Straits. What? You must be going? Well, come again when I can take the time to talk to you. Good-bye. Warden, can't I play Napoleon now? I'm tired of being an engineer, and be- sides, I've lost my Erector. I may? Oh, goody, goody! HOWARD SHERMAN, '33 WHAT A NIGHT! BUSINESS had been dull. Not many people were on the street. At the tenth stroke of the clock in Town Square, Katherine decided to close shop. Stretching out a lanquid hand, she pressed the two buttons which controlled the lights in the back of the store. She walked slowly to the cash register. One of her duties was to count the money and check the charges. Her thoughts wandered as she stood there. The novel she had just finished- a good story but the plot was impossible. Bearded Bandits was an inviting title-it suggested daring, romantic ad- ventures. Th-e only men she knew with beards were as old as the hills and as romantic as a Uriah Heep. Where, oh, where w-ere the Don Quixotes and Robin Hoods of her generation? She looked up suddenly. She knew someone was looking at her. Her hands tightened on the bills she held. Two huge men were gazing through the win- dow at her. N eatly trimmed, curly, brown beards ornamented the lower part of their faces. Dark felt hats pulled low over their faces did not con- ceal their enormous, glowing eyes. Surely, they were as large as half-dol- lars! After what seemed to be a hurried consultation, the men went away. She breathed a sigh of relief-too soon! One of them entered. He walked past towards the tables. Her heart stood still-then raced on madly. She gulped and gave the prescribed, Can I do something for you? Yes. I'd like coffee and sandwiches, please. Oh, horrors! She was the only one in the store. She was afraid to leave him alone there. Mr. Jones n-ext door had closed and was gone. Officer Riley wouldn't be back for a half-hour. Visions of a hold-up-maybe shc'd be shot-thos-e thieves in the book- I'm sorry, but- The sign says you serve until ten- thirty. It's only ten now. You see- What could she say? Not that she was alone! Desperately, she snatched a straw- We have no bread left. I' can give you coffee and pastries, though. The bell which summoned the man who worked downstairs caught her eye. When they forced her, trembling, de- fiant-to give them the money in the register, she would press the bell with her knee. She could see the headlines- that handsome, new reporter would in-

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55,4--mdk- ,-ivwgg A -- 0 THE PILGRIM agonized yell h-e took off into the great open spaces. Then, r-ealizing his mistake, he clutched frantically at the near-est object and hung on desperately. By this time the rivet had burned its way through his heavy overalls, a little beneath its point of entrance. Marty's first thought was that, if he lived through this, he would eat from the mantle and be courteous to ladies in subways for a long time. His next dis- covery was that he had grabbed the win- dow-sill of his secret idol and that he was hanging from the sill by the grace of God and the vice-like grip of his own two hands. The window above his head shot up. She was there. Breathlessly she gasped, Are you hurt-can you get up-shall I call tqhe fire department-oh! what shall I do. Marty beamed at her. I'm O. K., lady. Soon's I get me breath I'll be in to see ya. With a mighty heave he slid pain- fully across the window-sill. Turning, he gazed thoughtfully at the great, yawning abyss which he had just hurd- led, then down into Callahan's amazed face. He shut the window and turned to his still-fiust-ered hostess. Funny what a guy can do with the right inspiration, offered Marty. What do you mean ?f' she queried. Well, I been lookin' over here for quite a while and I didn't see you so I just dropped over. Why, what on earth, -the girl started in amazement. You were late, wasn't you? Marty grinned. Why, er-yes. My little boy was rather out of sorts and- What! you married? demanded Marty. Yes, of course. OW, groaned Marty sinking into a chair, and Wow! as he realized his error. Oh, you are hurt, aren't you? she asked. Well, I got an awful burn on-yeah, I sure got an awful burn, Marty re- plied as he ambled to the window. Lean- ing out he yelled, Hey! Callahan! Yeah ? Am I fired ? CKNaW-77 He balanced for a moment on the win- dow ledge. The girl shrilled at him, Don't, for heaven's sake! With all the precision of a cricket, al- though he more closely resembled a bula moose, Marty sprang, alighted, wavered, gained his precarious perch, and shuf- fled over to his work. Leaning over, he glared down at his helper.- Rivets hot? Sure, boss. Push 'em up. GILBERT HARLOW, '33 THE HANDS OF TIME She stood before the clock And thought: The hands of Time! These are the hands That tell off The years and eternitiesg The numbered moments Of Man's life- His sorrows, joys, Loves and hates- His victories and defeats! In the next year, or the next hour, The next minute-yes, Even the next second- O Hands of Time, Who knows what you Will bring to me ? CHARLOTTE BURGEss, '33 EMBARKATION B53.God's will we've reached the shore- me Of the great expanse beyond, And our bark will be all ready 'Fore another day has dawned. Hark! tempestuous waves are crashing On the hidden rocks below. ' Can we steer our precious vessel Through them, safely-? Who can know? Now we start, ship strewn with gar- lands, Cheers the crowd,-our anchor's free- Will our courage-then-be steadfast Lone and rocked on darkened sea? f When we're tossed by cruel billows, When we're plunged in deep abyss, When our trusted friends forsake us, Can our ship combat with this? God, we hope our ship is sturdy, For we've tried to build it so, And with Your kind blessing on us Fully armored shall we go. k M. E. WHITING, '33 The novice at trout fishing had hooked a very small trout. Excitedly he played it, reel- ing it in after a moment or two until it was rammed tight against the end of the rod. Glowing with the warmth of conquest, he turned to his instructor. I've got him! I've got him! he cried. Now what do I do? Climb up the pole and stab him to death, replied the disgusted instructor.

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30 THE W W ,A A HHQILGRIM V terview her-4h-er picture would be on the front page of the paper- Daring Herion-e Aids in Capture of Interna- tional Criminals -but no one was downstairs! H-e'd left at five! Well, I'll have a cup of coffee, any- Way.:r He stood at the counter, sippingiit slowly. Would he never finish it? Whence had his companion disap- peared? Ten minutes past ten. You'll be open ten or twenty minutes longer, wont you? Yes. Good Night. Good Night. With a last, searching look at the shop, he turned and left. She made a frantic dive for the door :nd locked it behind him. A quick change of costume and she was ready to leave. An anxious survey of the street re- fssured h-er. THEY were nowhere. in sight! Her fears had been fool1sh! The man had been hungry and his com- panion, not. That was the solution. 'Murder mysteries and glaring- tabloids dld queer things to the imagination. The tall, street light cast gruesome shadows. Still no people on the streets. Head down, hands in her pocket, she dashed across the street. Suddenly she stopped short. In a Ford parked op- posite the store were the two, bearded st1'ang-rs. 'I'hey stared fixedly at 1t. A tremor of fear passed over her. There was one thing left to do-and she did it! She hadn't been on the track team in vain. As she ran along, her pulses pounding furiously, she thought it ov-er. Would they break into the store? W-er-e they thieves? Why had they stopped there? She said nothing to anyon-e, for she realized how absurd her story would sound. Still, for many weeks, despite the fact that nothing had happened, she wondered about the men. Who were they? What had they been doing in Blankville? LORETTA SMITH, '33 Jimmy's father found him in the barn. He was shaking his pet rabbit and saying: Five and five! How much is five and five? Jimmy, Jimmy, what does this mean? his father demanded. Why, said Jimmy, teacher told us rabbits multiply rapidly, but this dumbbell can't even add! The following four stanzas are an original translation taken fromu- Le Lac, a poem by Lamartine, Well-known French poet of the nineteenth century. ' THE LAKE I CVerses 6, 7, 8, 97 6. O hours divine, and fleeting time, ' Pray, cease your rapid flight! Allow us, pray, on our happiest days To dream in your sublime delight! I 7. Enough of sorrow, all implore you, Grant their simple quest, Days of care, for them pray spare A quiet, peaceful rest. 8. f, In vain I plead a few short momentg' 1-Save, :firm But time escapes in flight, , .I , I ask this eve, Your time .retrieve:?,f-' But dawn dispels the night. ' 9. . . Then love, then love divine, We nowpen- tWl1'16 ' ' g qggggiif, Sweet joy, as one short hour flees outa-f.. Man has no trend, time hathno end,i It glides away as we pass' on. .. - .- MARJORIE CASSIDY, ' '33 r ON CAPE COD if li., ww, ' Stillness of night, , 671,113 Gleam of a star, Beam of a lighthouse, Glimpsed from afar, Glory of dawn, Sun on the sands, Windmills turning Their gigantic hands, Blue of the ocean, Cranberries red, Gulls soaring upward, White clouds o'erhead, Placid and peaceful, Thank thee, O Lord, For this quaint land Known as Cape Cod. JEANNETTE MARTIN, '34 First passenger on Atlantic liner: You know I am a literary person. I have contrib- uted 'to the Atlantic'Month1y. Second ditto: You have nothing on me. On this trip I have contributed to the Atlantic daily. A private was standing in the company street, outside his tent, shaving. ' E ,, Do you always shave outside? askedftlie sergeant. - ZW. Of course, answered theprivate. What do you 'think I am-fur-lined?