Quincy High School - Goldenrod Yearbook (Quincy, MA)

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THE GOLDEN ROD. With his money he was charita- ble. He provided a hospital for his native village, which had become a small city. He was foremost in all educational projects. No society was complete without having him to hold some important office. Many young business men owe part of their success to him, as he was ever ready to help them. At his death he was mourned by all, regardless of class or creed, for he was kind and charitable to all, es- pecially to the working class. In his younger days he was in- dustrious. He observed every- thing and was quick to understand. In business matters he was keen, prompt and shrewd, yet trustwor- thy and honest, and we may say almost without doubt, that these qualities, aided by a tender, loving heart, helped him to secure the po- sition that he held for so long a time. —Mary E. Monahan, ’94. USES OF ELECTRICITY IN QUINCY. What would our great-great- grandfathers or President John Adams have said, had we told them that by stepping to the wall and speaking into what appeared to be a box, they could talk with friends in New York? They could not only do this, but could tell by the voice to whom they were talk- ing. This is done every hour of the day in Quincy, and we think it not at all strange. If it is very stormy we may not like to go out, but we may wish to talk to a friend, and if he has a telephone we can accomplish this without any difficulty. It is very useful in a store if one wants something from Boston and cannot leave the store to go to the city. All one has to do is to step to the tele- phone and order what is wanted. The arc light illuminates our city with a light whose brilliance is a little less than one-third that of the sun. The characteristic color of the light is a bluish white, but the effect is rather ghastly owing to the quantity of blue rays. There is no other light which has such a penetrating power. This light renders the ground around it as plainly visible as it is on a cloudy day. What may seem still more strange is that the lights all over the city can be lighted at the same time and almost instantaneously. This is very convenient and useful in a very heavy snow-storm, when perhaps the streets may be drifted so as to render it impossible to light the gas or oil lamps. It is also very useful in this city when the moon shines at the beginning of the evening, but suddenly disap- pears, leaving all the city envel- oped in darkness. Then all that is necessary to dispel this darkness is the starting of one machine at the electric light station. We have a very clear, bright light for lighting houses and the cars. These lights generate some heat. We may light all the house and even the piazza by pressing a button in the hall. What a saving of time this is compared with our great-grandmothers’ way, when they made the tallow and the wick, then put them in a candle mould, where they remained for a week or two to harden before they were ready for use! It seems very strange to see a car moving along the streets with- out any visible motive power. Cars are one of the greatest mod- ern conveniences of which electri- city forms a part. What would our great-mothers have said, if they could have enjoyed a ride in an electric car! The lights of the car, when needed, are also fur- nished by electricity. Even when electricity is not used for light, it is used to ignite other kinds of lights, notably gas. The gas is lighted in the house and on the piazza by pressing a button. One house in this city employs electricity in ' locking and unlock- ing its doors. A person goes to the door of this house and wishes to see Mrs. W., who lives in the third story. The person presses a button, which rings a bell in the

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THE GOLDEN ROD. The school year is now fairly under way. The number of boys in Latin ’96 is much larger than the number in Latin ’95. The principal characteristic of Saturn seems to be vanity, he possesses so many rings. Any one who has never seen a ‘Teal live lord” may gratify his curiosity by paying a visit to the High School. Apples hanging from boughs within a stone’s throw of the schoolyard are tempting, but we must bear in mind the old, old story of the apple. Teacher, questioning pupil---- Master----, what are the---? Pupil—Dunno. Teacher—What was my ques- tion ? Pupil—Dunno. At roll call. Teacher—Master Paradise. Some pupil—He’s left. Teacher—It seems to be a case of “Paradise Lost.” As yet Paradise has not been Regaified. On returning to school this year, we found some improvements, the interior of the building having been freshened by new paint. The fresh effect was increased by the new class, which numbers about one hundred pupils. When we came back to school, we found our picture of Whittier draped in black. Another of our great poets gone. Last year it was Lowell. May it be many years before we mourn for Holmes, the only surviving one of the celebra- ted eight. The interest our new principal takes in athletic sports has en- deared him to the heart of every boy in the Quincy High School. The excitement during a game of foot-ball extends to the feminine portion of the school, and it is only when the ball leaps a fence into a neighbor’s choice flower bed, that we are devoutly thankful our sex prohibits our joining in the rush. BIOGRAPHY OF A BUSINESS MAN. William Ray, born March 12, 18—, died December 2, 18—. Born in a small village near New York City, when small he was like the average boy; that is, when with boys he did as the best boys always do, but he always obeyed his parents. He went to the grammar school, from which he was graduated at the age of thirteen. William was considered by his teachers a studious boy. After being gradu- ated he borrowed books from the library to read, and when he went to work he bought them. These books were always on mercantile subjects. In after years when in the city, he went to a night school, and since he had studied at home he was placed in an advanced class. When he was fourteen he se- cured the position of office boy in the office of a commission mer- chant in New York City. In ful- filling his duties he was very clever, always careful to make the least noise possible. He met ev- erybody with a pleasant smile and when he made appointments he kept them to the minute. He was particularly neat, both in his dress and in his work. It is said that he was a great thinker, remembering everything; one seldom had to re- peat for him. The merchant observed these characteristics. After eleven years of hard work the young man was taken into the firm. Indeed, all the clerks thought him worthy of a more responsible position than that which he was holding, al- though he did not murmur, as he believed that his employers knew what he was worth and paid him for it. The trade of this house in- creased, and they established sev- eral branch houses during his term of management. In fact, the capi- tal invested was nearly doubled in ten years. He continued to work every day in the office for thirty years after this. Then he retired from active labor.

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THE GOLDEN ROD. third story and notifies Mrs. W. that someone is at the door. Mrs. W. goes to a speaking tube, which is also connected by electricity with the outer door of the house, and asks who is there. If she recog- nizes the voice she presses a but- ton and thus unlocks the door. Through the speaking tube she in- vites her visitor in and up to her rooms. —Alice Pope. A VIEW FROM “THE STONE HOUSEF A TLANTIC. The first time I mounted three flights of stairs in the “Old Stone House,” I was surprised at the ex- tensive view I had of the surround- ing country. Far to the north and northeast I could see the faint out- line of Boston. The dome of the capitol and the many church spires I could easily discern, but the sur- rounding buildings were obscured by a kind of haze due to the damp- ness of the atmosphere. In the foreground lay Neponset, with its houses huddled along the bank of the river like a flock of chickens on a cold day, and the big school- house overshadowing them not un- like a mother hen. Behind Neponset I saw the out- lines of Dorchester and Boston Highlands, with their hills and valleys clothed with the pale green of early spring. The river flowed calmly in the foreground despite the ncavy wind, and the small boats tossed gently up and down on the incoming tide. The lumber wharves were loaded with a recent supply of lumber which was wet by the rain of a few hours before. Altogether it was an attractive scene. But I was not impressed as deeply with its beauty as by the eastern view. Looking in this direction, I could see nearly all of Atlantic. I could not describe the settlement if I tried. The houses are set in every position possible. They look, in fact, as if they had been shaken from the clouds, and allowed to remain just where they had dropped. Fruit and shade trees are mingled with all. The former were then loaded with blossoms, which were snatched off by every gust of wind; and the latter were clothing their naked branches with fresh green' leaves. To the left lay New Squantum, which looked as low as the surface of the water, and as though any common sized wave might sweep over it. To the right, I saw the Quincy School, with its pennant fluttering in the wind and rain in a manner to grieve the heart of the principal. Behind all I saw the “mighty At- lantic” (or a part of it) breaking into white caps, which quickly melted away into the lead blue of the surrounding water. Looking towards the north I saw in the distance the gilded dome of the stone church, and some of the higher buildings of Quincy, and I caught a glimpse, through the boughs of the neighboring trees, of Wollaston and Norfolk Downs. The steam from an engine near the blackened remains of the old foundry was blown hither and thither by the increasing wind. Twilight was slowly coming on, and rain began to fall. This thick- ened the haze so much, that when I looked to the west Milton was but a green waste dotted with trees and church spires. Although it was a rainy day and the beauty of the scenery was nothing compared with that of a pleasant day, I thought how thankful we who live in the country should be that we have such a chance to enjoy the coming summer, when there are so many who never picked a wild flower, and never saw a plot of green grass except in the common or public garden. • £■. ’94- The Hermit of Amesbury, the Wood-thrush of Essex, the Martial Quaker, the Poet of Freedom, the Poet of the Moral Sentiment— such are some of the titles bestowed upon Whittier by his admirers. ON AN ECLIPSE OF THE MOON. Fair virgin of the evening skies, That erstwhile wore the veil of white. Across thy face a shadow lies; Thou tak'st the veil of black tonight. —Frederic Allison Tupper.