Plymouth High School - Pilgrim Yearbook (Plymouth, MA)

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16 ARRIGO TASSANARI When things don't go his way, He utters sounds most weird: If he would copy U. S. Grant, He could mutter in his beard. AUGUSTA TAVERNELLI Gussie made a handsome lad When she danced the minuet, But, no real masculine quality Have we found in her-yet. EDWARD TONG Ding! Dong! here comes Tong With an explanation: He tells us just what he be- lieves Without affectation. MARJORIE TRACY She's something of a paradox, If you know what we mean: She's not a shrinking violet, Yet at blushing she's su- preme. BEATRICE VINCENT Calm your fears, young lady, We don't deal in dirt: You know full well What we say here Isn't meant to hurt. ROY WEBBER Cue Ball isn't heard from much In his High School classes, Put in sports we're fairly sure With A's he always passes. MARY WEILD When in a quandry, Hamlet said, To be or'not to be , When tormented, Mary wailed, You can't hyperbole mel GEORGE WVHITE One may smile And be a villain - To prove Hamlet right George White is willin'. 'FRANCES WIRZBURGER Girls like Fran are rare, She's ladylike and sweety The girls of modern times With her cannot compete. ALICE WOOD We must propound a question, Because it baflies all- She looks demure and harm- less, but- Wat's she got on the ball? VINCENT YANNI Someone stole his heart away: What's the lady's name, you say? No mere mortal made a hit, 'Twas Parts of Speech that did the trick. ANITA ZACCHELLI We'll call you Zacchy, not Kelly, For it's easier to explain: That there's little Irish in you Is obvious from your name.

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15 PAUL SEARS That boy Sears is anything But an ignoramus: Add a Roebuck to his name, And then he will be famous. JUNE SEAVER She won't dance! Sfhe wonlt prance! She may be a Ginger Rogers, But she won't take a chance. ELLEN SHAW She's better looking Than Martha Raye: And her Wow! and Oh, Boy! Are just as gay. FRANCIS SHEA We know all about you, Shea, We've heard about your uBetng We know you see her every day And, when you don't, you fret. ETHEL SHWOM The play's the thing, says Ethel, My metier this will be- To tread the boards, to play the part- Oh, that's the life for me! SIDNEY SINK His willing heart And clever hands For making posters Await our commands. RITA SMITH Hcr Hair for facts and figures She willingly would sell For skill to Weild a curling iron, Rcbellious locks to quell. ELIZABETH SNOW From capabilities like yours, From Willing hands and such Are fine girls made. To list them Is asking much too much. HELEN SPURR You make no bid for the spot- light But go quietly on your way, Content to do what must be done Throughout each livelong day. VINCENT STEFANI Since Store Pond has not frozen, Your patience has been tried: You could not thrill the girls this year B giving them a ride. ALFRED SWIFT Alfred is that quiet lad Who has a friendly smile: From Sagamore he rides each day O'er many a ftiresome?J mile. ELVIRA TADDIA Our facile nen moves slowly, W'fr're wracked by indecision: So many fine things we could say We can't decide on which one. L Y -I

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THE PILGRIM 17 Class Prophecy EWG decades have passed since the memorable graduation day of the Class of '37, ventured John Ryan, the president of the Consolidated Can Com- pany, to three of his business associates as they sat enjoying a quiet evening at the Old Colony Club. By Jove, you're right, it is 1957! You make a rather opportune observa- tion, my dear Mr. Ryan, mused LeBaron Briggs, dean of Harvard, emerging from behind the Boston Herald Cnot Miss Brown'sJ. Then to show how his fine intellect had absorbed the news of the day, he continued, Have you seen the headlines this even- ing? Stanley Adfdyman has invented a new mechanism called the Futurescope. I suggest we run over and spend the re- mainder of the evening with him. What do you say to that, Mr. Brewer ? Mr. Brewer is now a financial wizard, rather closeflsted, but a shrewd business man. Good idea, Baron. Possibly I could transact a little business deal profitable to all of us. Does this idea appeal to you, Mr. Sampson ? Immensely, replied Sampson. Rob- ert, a retired midlshipman, fwho has never seen actual servicel is now acting as Harbor Master for the town of Plymouth. Realizing that we were persons of little soc-ial standing, for we consisted of one loquacious senator, one impoverished broker, and a Swing Band Orchestra leader, we had nothing to say. But cur- iosity prompted us to follow. Our desti- nation being at some diistance, we climbed into a Rudolph-Diesel-powered coupe and followed Ryan's Super- charged Fabri Deluxe Special. Shortly after starting, we observed a disheveled characted frantically rending his hair and exerting brute force upon a defense- less lamp pole. We stopped only to find Alan Hey, architect, on the verge of dis- traction. Barbara Armstrong, noted aviatrix, had given him definite orders to build a round house on a square foun- dation. Continuing on our mission, we were forced to slow down to allow a person to cross the road. It was Gordon Gorey, the famous phrenologist, who was slowly going mad trying to interpret a new bump which had appeared upon his craniulm. Further on, we passed the pre- tentious mansionof Harold Morelli, the surrealist. Our most opportune arrival permitted us to see Harold dodging ia vase of the Ming Dynasty, thrown by the pretty hands of Madeline Cavicchi, former Edgar Lee'.s Follies girl. Made- line had unleashed her violent Latin temper. We dashed drown a side street and passed the pawn shop owned and oper- ated by none other than Howard Ander- son. Our Rudlolph-Diesell-powered car now took us to an exclusive cafe, Gae- tano Brigida, Proprietor, where only the best of sea-flood was served. We stop- ped to sample the specialties of the house, prepared as only chef Roy Cleve- land Cwith the Voice you love to hearj could prepare them. Over in one corner there arose a commotioln. Voices grew louder, arms flew faster--and we recog- nized four of our old classmates. Sam Dickson, the head of the United Sewer Diggers, was arguing with Robert Emond, head of the Boston Symphony Orchestra, about the age-old problem of the best place to park chewing gum. Edmund Heath, liisping cowboy of High Street Creek, attempted mainly to put in a lisp edgewise with the aid of Ben Hall, the neurotic cigar manufacturer. The discussion became so heated that Guy was forced to call the riot squad, and soon those intrepid arms of the law, Captain Roger Fabri, Lieutenant Ray Mullaney, and Fl-atf7oot Fran Shea, entered to quell the disturbance. We were ofl again towards our desti- nation, and in our haste we nearly ran down Roy Webber, billiard champion, who was having hysterlics because the cue ball and the eight ball had jumped from the table and refused to be con- trolled. , But now our trip was ended, and we found ourselves outside the Addyman Laboratories. The doorman was a huge fellow, Fred Barbieri by name. The big brute refusedus adfmittance, but per- mitted those whom we followed to enter. Undaunted by this rough 'rebuke, we stealthily sped to the rear of the build- ing to climb the fire escape, barely es- caping deteotion by the night watchman, Francis Fabri. Traversing the roof, we were fortunate enough to ind a skylight directly over the main laboratory. There below us we could see Adldyman gesticu- lating wildly, as any true scientist should, and as he always had. ,He had just wel- comed his four visitors. It was impos- sible to overhear any of the conversa- tion, but the center of interest was a huge machine. We gathered that Addy