Quincy High School - Goldenrod Yearbook (Quincy, MA)

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THE GOLDEN-ROD. Mv Experiences at the Eire. One spring, several years ago, while I was visiting my friends in Merrimac I had some extremely interesting experiences at a fire, there. Merrimac is a small town in the north-eastern part of Massachusetts, near Haverhill, in the region which Whittier has described so often. It has an electric car line and a telegraph, yet it has many of the characteristics of country towns. About three o’clock, one morning, I was awakened bv the voices of men, hurrying by the house,'shouting, “Fire! ” Soon bells began to ring. I went to the window and looked out. All along the street, people were leaning out of windows and inquiring of those who were hurrying by what the trouble was. These were going toward the business part of the town, which was in a hollow, not very far from where I was. I could see the flames very distinctly for the night was dark. When my friends found that I was not accus- tomed to going to fires at home, they were much surprised ; but as they were going, I went also. The fire, I found, was in the principal block of the town. This block contained the post office, a market and several small stores. I was surprised not to see fire- engines and tire-men and asked about it. I was told to look toward the hill. There approaching, I saw a crowd of men, shout- ing and drawing a small hand engine at full speed. Water was obtained from a small pond, near by, and soon two thin streams of water were mingling with the flames. People were hurrying about, talking as if a fire were a very extraordinary thing. As all had hastened to the fire, their dress was far from complete ; but they did not seem to mind the deficiencies. As T could not see much of the fire, I watched the people. 1 saw some very strange costumes. One woman had on a dressing- gown and a large hat with long plumes and bows; another had no hat to cover her Hying hair; an old man appeared to be carrying his most precious possessions in a silk handkerchief. The expressions on their faces ranged from terror to delight. The children, fully awake, were running about in everyone’s way, laughing and playing. The sexton of a nearby church brought settees out into the yard. Women and a few men sat upon them gossiping while watching the fire. They speculated as to its duration, its cause, the damage and such things with evident enjoyment. It seemed like a picnic or some other great merry-making. The tire meanwhile had gained great headway, the whole block was ablaze. The flames shot up high into the air. They seemed alive; they crackled and snapped and roared, while they made the place about as light as day. They seized and devoured everything within reach and then seemed to scream for more. Sparks were falling in showers all around, so that it was rather hard work for the men to keep other buildings from taking fire. The water made with the flames a great hissing and sputtering; it also caused a great deal of smoke which choked and blinded us; but it had no other effect. It x was easy to see that the fire was beyond control. Finally they telegraphed to Haverhill for aid. After an hour or two, aid, in the shape of a more modern fire- engine, arrived ; but was not of very much use, for the fire was almost out. I had returned to the house before the call for aid and did not visit the scene of the tire again until about half past seven. The fire was still burning in little patches of flame among the blackened embers, sullenly expiring in one place only to ap- pear again in another. The settees in the church-yard were not entirely deserted as some people had not yet returned to their homes. Their appearance seemed more ridiculous by day-light than by firelight.

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Zbc (Solben TRob WILL UK PUBLISHED MONTHLY DURING TIIE SCHOOL YEAR IN THE INTEREST OF THE QUINGY HIQH SCHOOL,. SUBSCRIPTION RATES: jfor tbc l car, 50 Cents. (Single Copies. 10 Cents. For Sale at W. C. Hartwell’s, Quincy, and Shunk’s News Agency Wollaston. EDITORS: Annie Pinkiiam, 00; Lucy Luard, ’01. ASSISTANTS: Ruth Hayden. ’00: Franklin Nichols, 01, and Julia Roche, ’02. BUSINESS MANAGERS: John Ide, 00; Charles McGilvary, ’01 and Walter Whittemore, ’02. REPORTERS: John B. Keyes, ’00; Sadie Adams, ’01; Eleanor Nelson, ‘02; Mollis Brown, ’03. Entered at the Quincy (Mass.) Post- )ltice as Second Class Matter. EDITORIALS. Europe will offer two attractions to travellers this summer, the exposition at Paris, and the Passion Play at Ober- ammergau in Bavaria. The latter will probably attract the greater number of people since it is performed only once in ten years. The Passion play resembles very much the mediaeval miracle and morality plays, although it did not grow from them. It is the fulfilment of a vow made by the peasants during the plague of 1833, when they vowed to act out the passion of the Savior if they should be saved. Faithfully and regularly have they observed their vow. About seven hundred villagers take partin the play. It is deemed a great honor to tlie person who is chosen, since moral character rather than dramatic ability determines the selection. The performers are trained by the parish priest and the whole play is considered an act of religious worship. A beautiful effect is secured by the combination of the simplicity of the villagers with the artistic training they receive. March, with its cold, blustering winds which search out every joint of those who have passed even beyond the winter of life and which cause even those through whose veins Hows the bright, swift blood of youth to seek anew the warm wraps of winter, must soon yield its place to April. Who can refrain from giving this spring inspiring month a warm welcome? The pussy willows have already appeared while the snowdrops and crocuses are pushing their way forth into the sunlight. Yet, March, in spite of her rough exterior, has a kind heart, as some one has expressed in the following lines : “ Ah! March! wc know thou art Kind-hearted, spite of ugly looks and threats, And, out of sight, art nursing violets. ’

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THE GOLDEN-ROD. The fire which started in the post-office is supposed to have been set. It con- sumed the only business block of the town, resulting in great damage. For months afterwards it was the talk of the town, since so large a fire was very unusual and an exciting circumstance. All sorts of guesses have been made con- cerning the cause, but I know of nothing that has been brought forth to change these guesses into facts. jA jA Sam. In a little village which lies at the mouth of the P--------river, on the east- ern coast of Maine, lives one of the strangest characters that I ever met. He is a man who is known through- out the neighborhood and surrounding country by the prosaic name, Sam. lie does not live in the village proper, but on an island about four miles up the river. This island bears a strong resem- blance to that one which we have so graphically described as the landing place of Aeneas in Virgil. The two precipitous head-lands come out on either side of it, and we even have the back-ground of dark, bristling shade. Here Sam has lived for twenty or thirty years with only his dogs and other pets for company. To be sure, once in a while a yachting or fishing party will land to see him and his curious little house, and it was on such an occasion that I met him. Landing on a rude quay, you mount some steps, and are confronted by the back of Sam’s house. I never could understand why he placed it in this position, but suppose it is only one of the many evidences of his peculiarity. The house itself is a curiosity. It is situated on the highest part of the island, commanding a good view of the bay, and has a very pretty grove of trees nearby. It has two good-sized windows, and a big, brick chimney built upon the outside, making one think of the log houses our ancestors built when they first came to this country. The inside is fitted up more like a camp than a permanent home. It is furnished with the rudest of everything; a small cook stove, a table, two camp chairs,—minus backs, a china closet made of a dry goods box, and two bunks built against the wall constitute the whole contents, with the exception of some pictures from newspapers of prize fight- ers, race horses, dogs, etc. The day I visited the house, everything was scrupu- lously clean, ami a big pan of molasses gingerbread on the table, gave evidence of Sam’s skill as a cook. Near the house is a shed which served as a shelter for the numerous pets which Sam keeps. He has a dog, sheep, chick- ens and raccoons. At one time he had a tame seal, which he kept in a pen out in the water. Once in a while he would let it out and it would follow his boat anywhere. On a smaller island back of his own, there lives a family of foxes who know his voice and will come to him when he gives a peculiar call. He used to be unequalled anywhere about, for his skill as a boatman and hunter; but of late years he has not been as active, for, in some way he has con- tracted that dread disease, consumption. He has friends on shore who have tried in every way to make him come ashore and spend the winter months with them, but he obstinatelv refuses. He has a flag o which he hangs out every morning as a signal that “all’s well,” and I should not be surprised to hear at almost anytime, that the signal had not appeared and that, at last, Sam had gone to another home. x. w. Every time I tell the truth I add to my strength of character.—Emerson.