Plymouth High School - Pilgrim Yearbook (Plymouth, MA)

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I l fr. 7. ,Y 74- W Ls .ML F THE PILGRIM 29 I f' 1 1 . C - r - xi .S . ii? BOY, PAGE MR. BOSTON Mugs Mullaney, six feet tall, half as wide, and as thick as a London fog, was boss of the McCutcheon lumber camps. For his tonnage of bone and muscle, he was as gentle as a ten-year- old tiger cub. Cln other words, mean and ornery.J As a bully, he had no equal. Compared with him, Nero and Rasputin were babes in arms, while Attila and Genghis Khan were sissies. Now to get on with the story. One brisk, frosty morning in late October a new arrival made his- ap- pearance in camp, a city feller to take the place of the recently deceased Chinese cook. It seemed that this new hash-sling- er, as he was called, had a very limited knowledge of the culinary art. In fact, his only accomplishment was baked beans. For the past few months the lumber- jacks had been fed nothing but rice fwithout raisinsj and, a filthy mess called chop suey. No one would even hazard a guess as to what it contained, but one of the fellows asserted that he was about to take a spoonful of the ob- noxious mess when a half-drowned snail emerged from the murky black- ness and feebly crawled upon a piece of half-peeled potato, rolling his eyes in such a mournful manner that the poor fellow had to leave the table. He felt a peculiar rumbling sensation in his stomach for the rest of the day and swore never to eat Chinese concoctions again. Ah! beans, there was a m0m's dish. A heaping plateful of golden-brown, mealy goodness, smeared with thick, sticky, black molasses. Sick of the Chinese slumgullion, the lumber men consumed huge quan- tities of beans, and became encouraged by the change in fare. Beans were served three times a day for the first week, second week, third week, and for weeks and weeks after- wards. Beans for breakfast, beans for dinner, and for supper, BEANS! BEANS! BEANS! BEANS! The situation became desperate. The men would have! gladly gone back to rice, chop suey, and spinach. Yes, even spinach would have been welcomed as a change from the ubiquitous bean! Mullaney, hearing the grumblings of revolt among his men, stopped in at the cook house for bean factoryb late one afternoon to see what he could do. As his massive bulk thundered through the door, his shoulders scraped on both sides. The cook was standing in front of the open oven stirring beans, the odor of which permeated the room. By this time, most of the men could not endure the sight of beans, and the odor nauseated even Mugs, the bull of the lumber camps. He flung himself into a chair which creaked submissively and nearly collapsed under his great weight. Whew ! he exclaimed, whipping out a big red handkerchief as large as a cat- boat sail and mopping his huge, pers- piring cranial frontage which stood out like the chalk cliffs of Dover, more beans ? Yes, meekly replied the cook with an air of utter dejectedness that would have wrung a salty tear from Momus, beans were the only supplies we re- ceived before the heavy snows, an' beans we'll eat 'til the spring thaw. Mugs Mullaney, summoning his last ounce of strength, staggered to his feet and threw up a window. He re- mained hanging out of the window with his tongue lolling from the corner of his mouth for the best part of an hour. When he had recovered suffici- ently, he pulled his head out of the win- dow, wiped his massive brow again, and lumbered off toward his cabin. Well, the bean diet lasted for five months and would probably have lasted for five more had not Mullaney chanced to meander past the cook house one eve- ning just as the tempting odor of steak and onions was being wafted into the crisp, night air. He halted, turned, directed his steps to the window of the cook house, and peered in. The sight that met his eyes must have enraged him, for he pulled -L

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28 THE PILGRIM The girls are now writing books for a new library. They are: How to Roast a Chicken, By Mary DeCost I EMMA Redhead, By E. Paul How Not to Grow, By Shirley Dutton It's Tufftsj to be Famous, By Jeannette Martin Me and My Shadow, By E. Wood and M. Minott The Fourth and Seventh Dance, By Onc-e Again The Illuminated Cemetery, By Special Request Tillie, The Queen of Hickville, By Wouldn't Cha Like Ta No Florence is getting her license. That's because she's going to buy a dog. Has something happened to Jean- nette? She does not seek the shelter of room 12 since Gilbert graduated. We feel lost without her cheery voice. Why did Charley CCarverJ have to step in, Janet? Did someone else dis- appoint you? If Fat should get a little more ser- ious, there might be a wedding on Oak Street. MISS Elizabeth Ryan has made a special request in asking us to mention that her name is NOT L-izzie. Thankful are they whose names are not mentioned in this column. Not that there is nothing to write about them, it may be that the incidents are too ob- vious. CARL MARK MY WORD CAST OF THE TRYSTING PLACEH Left to right tfirst rowlz Ruth. Murphy, Robert Martin, Elizabeth Wood, Warren Sampson, Csecond rowiz Gilbert Andrews, Dorothy Perkins, William MacPhail THE TRYSTING PLACE The senior class play, The Trysting Place by Booth Tarkington, given on Friday ev-ening, April 6, 1934, was en- thusiastically received by an exception- ally appreciative audience which filled to overflowing the upper hall in the Me- morial Building. The trysting place proved to be in the lounge of a country hotel-'l'the only quiet place in the hotel. The cast Cin the order of its appearancej was: Mrs. Curtis, a widow of 25 years- Ruth Murphy . Lancelot Briggs, a boy obviously un- der 20-Robert Martin Mrs. Briggs, his sister, a young girl of about 20-Elizabeth Wood. Rupert Smith, the young man-War- ren Sampson. Mr. Ingolsby-Gilbert Andrews and The Mysterious Voice-William Mac- Phail The general committee in charge of the Senior Project was Lawrence Bon- giovanni Cchairmanj, Katherine Ghent. Elizabeth Wood, Carlo Guidoboni, and Thomas Roncarati. The ticket-selling campaign was led by Marjorie Belcher and Eleanor Brad- ford. The properties were in charge of Miss Charlotte Brown, a member of the faculty, with assistants, Harry Young, Jeannette Martin, William Brewster, Joseph Sayre, and Josephine Continued on page 55

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30 THE PILGRIM off his cap, threw it to the ground, and trampled upon it. Then, after flexing his biceps so hard that the monstrous, knotted muscles split the sleeves of his leather jacket wide open, he clenched his mighty paws so that each knuckle stood out like a baseball, only twice as hardg and, rushing to the door, with one mighty heave wrenched it off its hinges and charged into the room. There, seated across the room, was the cook in all his splendor, with a spot- less, snow-white napkin tucked under his chin, spreading a freshly-cooked. big, juicy steak Cbarely discernible un- nerneath the lavish garnishing of onionb with a lump of butter about the size of a big brown egg. The facial expression, one of peace and extreme contentment, vanished, and one of horror,-of ghastly horror, took its place. Slowly he pushed back his chair and tugged at his napkiin, his eyes fixed up- on those of the crazed lumberjack, who sucked in his breath like an enraged go-- rilla and advanced, step by step, toward his victim. The tempting odor of delicious steak smothered in onions did not deter him. The hapless cook backed into the cor- ner by the stove, follow-ed by the fiend. Seizing on-e of the red hot stove covers by the holder, the hash slinger hurled it. Mullaney, the iron man, caught it, dashed it through the window, advanc- ing again, his massive hands opening and closing like the business end of steam shovel. The cook, as a last hope, snatched the huge kettel of beans from the oven and dumped it over the head of the infuri- ated wood cutter, fastening the handle down under his granite chin. Mugs Mullaney, man mountain of the lumber camps, passed out like school children after receiving their diplomas. When he came to, some days later, he was informed of the contents of a letter found in the belongings of the cook. who had escaped. The letter, addressed to the cook, read :- Received your shipment of beef and will send immediately Cif not soonerj 500 lbs. of beans. The men can work just as well on beans as on beef, and think of all the money you save! If you get another supply of be-ef intended for the lumber camp, I will gladly exchange it for beans and a rea- sonable cash bonus for your own pocket . . . There is a motley group of Maine lumbermen searching the world over for a scoundrel who fed human beings beans for breakfast, BEANS for dinner, and for supper,-BEANS! Week in, and week out,--beans! beans! beans! And still more beans! ! ! FRANCIS TRASK '34 PRECIOUS TREASURES Upon the steps of time an old man satg And in his skinny hands, he held His whole lifels treasure. For more than four score year and ten He had livedg and tho, his hair was snowy white, He still loved life. His wrinkled brow and trembling limbs Were tokens of his passing life- And old age held him fast. And what had he from all those years- A mighty store of hoarded gold? Nay-treasures more precious far! The memories of a 1ifetime's work, The prayers of many invalids saved, And, best of all, of duty well done! And so he sat-and was content. Tho' ever weaker grew his limbs, His heart was ever strong. H. SURREY '34 JUST THINGS An old pitcher Spilling bayberries from its mouth, Its fat body Tinted rose from the sun. Maple furniture- clean, shimmering In the light, A print or two, Roomy chairs and gaily hooked mats. An India hanging, Mellow blue, green, and yellow, With faint tracings of faded pink. Many colored backs of books, Little china dogs And curiously carved figures, All such dear, precious things I love so well. JEANNETTE MARTIN ,34 CONTRAST Through the darkness of night A torch gleams, Making a path of light Across the water. Ripples slowly creep To the shore From the foamy wake Of the tug. Upon the grimy decks Strong men, Handling the lines, Sweat and toil, Struggling in the dim light Of oil lamps. Everywhere are smoky fumes And filth. LUCY HOLMES '35