Plymouth High School - Pilgrim Yearbook (Plymouth, MA)

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THE PILGRIM 31 But there is at least one comforting thought, for we realize there is a greater variety of jobs than there was once, jobs that call for skill with hands as well as with brains. In fact, if we investigate, we are surprised how many new fields are today open to energetic youth. Civil service, farming, dairying, aviation, mechanics and engineering, social and health service offer a variety of oppor- tunities. And youth looks to a field that requires training because of this, and also because of good salaries which usually reward the workers. Even poor finances are not such a handicap. There are many approved trade schools that offer courses at a reasonable cost. Night courses are especially helpful to those who are obliged to work by day to gain an educa- tion. All this calls for work, and plenty of it, on the part of the student, but, as a rule, young people who are interested in a particular line are willing to work. They have a definite aim in life and look hopefully into the future. HARLEY MITCHELL '40 A TRUE SPORTSMAN IN one of the editions of The Saturday Evening Post we saw a very striking picture of a hunter paddling down a peaceful river in the heart of the Maine Woods. lt was sundown and he was returning to his camp from a day spent in the peaceful solitude of the woods. A man we know quite well, the owner of a grocery store, is a gunner in his spare time. He is a fairly stout man of about fifty years of age. This friend spends all his spare time in raising hunt- ing dogs and in enjoying his camp on the beach. He also raises many varieties of ducks for the camp. When the duck sea- son approaches, he takes his dogs, birds. guns, food supply, and other equipment to his camp on the beach and spends the whole season there. His interest in his camp has made it one of the most popular in this vicinity, for it offers all the things dear to a man who enjoys the out-of-doors. If we were to stroll past his camp in the evening, we should find him sitting in his old rocking chair in front of the stove, his dogs sleeping at his feet, and he would be reading the latest sporting magazine. Qr if we were to stroll past the camp in early morning, We should find him sit- ting behind his blind waiting for the approach of ducks on the wing. lf he didn't see one duck for four days, he would be satisfied with the simple ex- pectation of a better day tomorrow. He is never disgruntled at failure. The sun sets once more as he returns to the old rocking chair in his snug cabin, at peace with the world and with God. He is our idea of a really true sportsman. MARTIN MCAULEY '41 ACTIVE OR PASSIVE? WHO can truthfully say that clubs and activities are not an essential part of the school curriculum? We rather think that none of us could, provided we gave the question intelligent, careful thought, for without doubt our future social life depends a great deal upon the acquaint- ances and associations we make during our youth. This being the case, many of our school clubs should have much larger memberships, and more of us should be interested in extra-curricular activities. The fact is that some of us, too many of us, in fact, are inactive, passive, uninterested in fields outside the ordinary courses of study. Of course, the pupil who finds his ordinary work difficult and has no time for other interests may be an exception. lf he finds his work arduous, he should persevere until he masters it, avoiding too many activities which would divert his attention. The majority of pupils, however, have enough spare time but prefer not to spend it in an organized manner. These are the students who should join study groups. For those who enjoy nature and wood- craft there is the 4-H Club, for the scien- tifically or mechanically-minded, the Radio or Aviation Clubs, for the musi- cally inclined, glee clubs, orchestra, and band, for the physically active, football and basketball, and for all there are various periodic activities sponsored by the school itself. Although this extra-curricular work could have a slightly detrimental effect upon the marks of the pupil, its divi- dends in fun and experience far out- weigh the injuries it might inflict. Mem- bers of clubs have opportunities to show their skills, to meet and make new friends, to develop their natural abilities into useful and possibly profitable pas- times, and to gain self-confidence and poise when in public. WALTER CoRRow '41

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30 THE PILGRIM efforts as the flames began to leap through the doorway. Johnnie had begun to cry, not because of fear, nor because of the pain that throbbed in his leg, but because of his father's frailty. Tom's Dad could have pulled that door shut, Dick's father could have done it with one hand. Something the speaker was saying brought Johnnie back to the present. Today the proud citizenry of Lansing, Michigan, was dedicating the new fire- proof school building. The stage was crowded with fathers, school board offic- ials, and honored guests, including the mayor, Mr. Jones, who was now saying: The late Harold Thomas was a frail man, but he possessed a courage which is a far greater possession than physical strength. With all the power in him, he pulled and tugged to close that tire door, but his strength was not enough. Thirty of his pupils, including his own son, were doomed to a terrible death if he didnlt succeed. Well, those children are alive today, living evidence of how courageous, yes, how heroic a man Harold Thomas was. When he discov- ered he could not pull the door shut, he bravely stepped into the adjacent room, and, unmindful of the flames, got behind the door and pushed it shut. John and his mother, who were sitting among the honored guests on the stage, lowered their heads to hide their tears, tears of sorrow and loneliness, but of pride, too. Sweet was their memory of the beloved husband and father, whose name was engraved on the face of the new Harold Thomas School. JOHN NUTTERVILLE '42 IF I WERE KING Four and twenty blaclcbirds Baked in a pie - When the pie was opened, The birds began to sing, Wasn't that a dainty dish To set before a King? In nursery rhyme days this blackbird pie was evidently considered a dish which was fit for a King. Times have changed and, if I were King, I should not want my chef to serve me a blackbird pie. A good meat pie with a filling of beef, potatoes, and carrots, the whole covered with a thick, flaky crust baked until brown, would be much more to my taste. On state occasions, when I invited my ministers to dine, I should regale them with thick slices of ham, baked in Southern style, surrounded with candied sweet and white potatoes. For my very special friends I would order a Porter- house steak, French fried potatoes, asparagus, olives, and sweet gherkins. N o baked, steamed or boiled puddings either hot or cold, no gelatine or jello would ever be served in my palace. My guests would have a choice of lemon pie, with three-inch thick meringue, or hot apple pie topped with two scoops of vanilla ice cream. If my servants ate these meals, they would need exercise and would get plenty putting away my shoes since I usually have three or four pairs strewn over my fioor. Also the bending exer- cises they would get picking up the papers littering the floor within a rad- ius of two feet from my wastebasket where I have thrown-and missed, would be very beneficial. A royal jeweler would be kept busy taking care of my clocks and watches as I am continually breaking the clocks and losing the watches. Which birthday are you celebrating? This is a question my family asks each year. My birthday is in June, but when I was very small, it was decided to have my birthday celebrated on February 14th, as my brother's was February 9th, and my sister's February 18th. For years I have had two sets of birthday presents, but the system isn't working so well as it used to. Being king would have its advan- tages. Sinces the King can do no wrong, I could have my birthday celebrated in proper style-as often within the year as I saw Ht. RONALD SMITH '40 YOUTH AND THE FUTURE IN recent years there has been an in- creased desire for a higher education by many graduates of our secondary schools. Special training for their own special job is what youth is seeking. Not all, but most of them, have some- thing definite in mind, a goal that they have set for themselves. They face the future with an earnestness that is some- times amazing. We wonder at this. Surely the jobless who walk the streets are no inspiration. Then again we wonder where all the jobs are to come from if those looking for work are to get one.

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32 THE PILGRIM In The Ciroyvgs Nest THE moment the whole business started I thought I had better put it down just as it occurred although, at the mo- ment, I feel that these words will never be read by anyone who matters. I would first like to state that I am Ralph Harold Benton, aged seventeen, and that I am an apprentice aboard the cargo steamer Island Queen. If sometimes this account breaks off at unexpected places, it is because I have to keep a constant look-out for trouble below and for any vessel that might ap- pear on the horizon. However, at the moment everything seems quiet and I'm not uncomfort- a b l e i n t h e crow's nest. Nothing at all out of the ordi- nary has hap- pened for sev- eral weeks. We called at various ports, discharg- i n g c a r g o a t some and load- ing at others. The skipper, Captain William Haslett, proved to be a regular fellow and was very kind to me. The other offi- cers weren't par- ticularly pleas- ant, but I guess that was because they were worried. You see, the crew was pretty tough and needed careful handling, especially one giant of a man named Joe Jackson who looked like an ex-boxer. Anyway. I didn't do too badly, and it would have been a grand trip but for the fourth officer, Bronson. He was dead set against me. It must have been about twelve hours ago that Bronson ordered me to the crow's nest. I protested that Captain Haslett didn't want me in the nest, but it was useless, so up I had to go. It wasnlt bad at all and I was quite enjoying it, particularly as the sea was calm, when I happened to look down and very nearly swallowed the gum I was chewing. It was about three in the afternoon, and most of the crew were in their quar- ters. As I looked towards the fo'c'sle, I saw Joe Jackson and a huge man called Mad Harry dodge behind some water casks as they made their way towards the bridge. They both carried revolvers and I knew at once that it was a case of mu- tiny! My first impulse was to yell, but there was nothing to be gained by that, and it was just as well that I didn't. If I had hollered, I'm sure Joe would have shot me. As it was, he halted. bellowed some kind of an order, and instantly men appeared from nowhere. You'd better lie low. Ralph, my lad! I muttered to myself. Then I sighed with relief as I thought of that little Iver Johnson revol- ver I'd smuggled aboard at Pana- ma. With that in , my fist I felt quite capable of halting the mu- tiny myself. Hold on a mo- ment- lt's been an hour since I ask- ed you to hold on. and I've had a pretty lively time. However. I'll tell things in their proper se- quence. The mo- ment Joe barked that order, nine- tenths o f th e crew swarmed on deck. and I heard a shot that shattered the window of the bridge. The skipper was roaring like a bull, and the Hrst officer must have grabbed a revolver because I heard him give Joe three seconds to drop his weapon. The ex-boXer's answer was another shot. and I have an idea that Mr. Marks was hit. I expect it was the best organized mu- tiny at sea in the annals of history. The skipper and the other officers were quickly overpowered and must have been locked below somewhere because I haven't seen or heard of them since. During the night Joe Jackson remem- bered me, and in the light of the full moon I saw him standing forward and heard him bellowing to me to come down. Are you with us? he roared. If so. you can come down and turn in. Whats