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Page 15 text:
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THE GOLDEN - ROD We kept up the stately ceremony for a week, without a let-down, till Sunday afternoon when I met Elizabeth in the reception hall, dressed for the street. “ Where are you going? ” I asked. “ For a walk, I guess.” “ Why don’t you drive? ” said I rather reprov- ingly. She regarded me with a curious expression and then said, “I can’t ride alone in that big carriage. I feel as though everybody were examining my last winter’s hat which I still wear. I much pre- fer to walk. You’d better walk with me.” “ No, I was coming down from the pool room this afternoon and got lost in the conservatory. I’m completely tired out.” After supper that evening we sal quietly in the library, a room tastefully arranged with leather hangings and massive furniture of black walnut, with rich oriental rugs in deep crimson laid over a highly polished floor. “ It’s a bit gloomy in here,” I said, “ let’s go into the drawing room.” “Oh, no! It’s so stiff and slippery in there,” replied Elizabeth. “ We’d better stay right here,” she continued quietly, and then with a burst of frankness, “ I’ve tried every room in the house, and I don’t seem to fit a single one. Don’t you wish we could find a little cosy room, where we might escape from this graudeur for a breathing spell, once in a while? ” We had had just eight weeks of it, when one night Elizabeth came in to dinner, her face full of joy. “ Oh, I know what you’ve been doing,” she cried, “ I saw you on the other side of the street as I was going into the flat.” “ Yes, I’ve been making arrangements to rent it,” I added with as much of an off-hand manner as I could assume. “ We’ve got to live somewhere when the St. Clairs come back, and I thought I might as well give in to you.” “ But isn’t this a bit early to be renting it? ” Elizabeth persisted. I glanced at her face as she spoke, and we both burst into shouts of rather shame-faced laughter, to the great horror of two rigid footmen who rightly regarded The Palace as a place sacred to gloom and grandeur. “ I can’t live in this tomb another week,” I con- fessed when we had got out of range of the foot- man’s ears. “ Can’t we arrange it some way?” “Let’s steal away tomorrow and leave the key under the mat,” giggled Elizabeth. “ IIow about the Sr. Clairs? ” I asked hesitating- ly, with some slight twinges of conscience. Elizabeth picked up a letter from the table and flourished it triumphantly. “ They have changed their plans,” she shrieked, and will be back Friday.” I think that when we thanked Mr. and Mrs. St. Clair for solving the “ house problem” for us, they didn’t fully understand what it meant. j Zhc StrenuosftE of School Xife It was about half-past three of a certain Monday afternoon in the middle of March. The janitor was peacefully reclining in his Morris Chair (?) in his sumptuous apartment in the basement, regaling himself with a piece of classic literature. Sud- denly sounds and outcries from the upper story reached his ears. After a moment’s serious con- templation, he arose from his bed of leisure, and stood listening. The sounds increased in volume and intensity, and our valiant kuight of the coal- hod no longer hesitated, but arming himself with a poker and a jack-knife he stealthily commenced to wend his way skyward. At the second floor he stopped to listen. Over his head the mysterious noises redoubled in power. Lightly and grace- fully our noble hero surmounted the last flight of stairs and breathed a sigh of relief as l c neared the scene of conflict. Now came his strong de- tective instincts; murderous cries, and the scuttle of many feet might have had a tendency to confuse a less able man, but without hesitation or fear our gallant swain betook himself straightway to the door of Room 12 the Chemical labratory. Seizing the knob of the door he gave a mighty pull. The frail barrier yielded to his persuasive powers, and he entered. What a scene of carnage and deso- lation met his eyes! Back he fell through the door in a faint overcome by his exertions. The scene presented to his eager eyes was this : four charming young senior girls of the cooking class playing hand-ball up against the black-board with cream of tartar biscuits. “ All the great men are dyiug and I don’t feel very well myself.” B—ltz—er, ’05.
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Page 14 text:
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THE GOLDEN - ROD “ Michael Mulloney, Crackers for short—I can make all the way from fifty cents to two dollars ” “And go to the theatres, and treat your chums to oyster stews when work is brisk? ” questioned Mr. Wales. “Perhaps I do, and perhaps I don’t,” said Crackers, advancing toward the door. “Good evening, sir.” “Wait a moment, my boy.,r Mr. Wales scratched away on a sheet of paper. “ Take this note to your mother.” He fumbled in his desk while he sealed it. Crackers gave the letter a shove down into the bottom of his pocket, and went out crying “ papers,” down the street. “ Here, Mother,” he said, “Fatty sent you a letter. I guess there’s fifty cents in it for my honesty.” Mrs. Mulloney opened it, and a hundred dollar note fell out. She gave a startled cry of delight, and gasped with surprise. Never in all her life had Mrs. Mulloney seen or had in her possession a one hundred dollar note. She could supply all her wants and put the remainder in the bank for her boy and send him to school the next week, and Mr. Wales would come around and see that she was all right. Crackers did not want to have Spider know it, but he found it out, as he was missed on his beat. He and his mother moved into light and airy rooms and a sewing machine took the place of wash-tubs. Crackers sat in the new home and studied his books. Crackers graduated from the High school; and after a four years’ course at college, he entered business. Some months ago he married the only daughter of Mr. Wales, and eventually he wil] share with his wife, the immense fortune of the old gentleman. - Crackers still clings to the motto: “Honesty is always the best policy.” j Did you ever have the feeling that you were a sort of wild animal on exhibition? No? Well then tell me how you feel when you come down stairs about one o’clock and see all the freshmen of the afternoon session lined up in the corridor watching you. The Palace By Marion E. Lewis. “ Then where shall we live this winter? ” cried Elizabeth as the curtain went down after the fourth act. “ You will not even consider a flat. Very well, I absolutely refuse to spend another week in that boarding house.” This was the end of a long controversy made possible by the intolerable dullness of the play,—a discussion in which the only point where we agreed was that it was a mistake to try to econo- mize by spending nine-tenths of our time in a most uninteresting and dismal boarding house, in order that we might show ourselves in good society with an occasional burst of extravagance. “ I’m sick and tired of being poor,” she said at last. “ I’d like to live in a great house full of servants, and soft lights, and velvet silence, with a large library and music room. I know that I would not be bored and restless, like those pale-faced crea- tures who usually live in such magnificence.” This outburst was cut short by the rising of the curtain. When leaving the theatre, we met Mrs. St. Clair, one of what I generally called Elizabeth’s “ high-life friends.” As she was about to step iuto her carriage she called back to my wife, “Come and see us tomorrow without fail. I have a suggestion to make.” “ Probably some old charity affair,” remarked Elizabeth as we dismally climbed to the Sixth Avenue Elevated. “ Perhaps she is going to give us her house in town,” I added imaginatively. “You were right,” Elizabeth fairly shouted when I returned the next evening to our forlorn little rooms. “ She wants us to have it, to go and live in her Fifth Avenue Palace for the winter, while she and her husband are in Venice ; servants and horses all at our disposal. Just imagine ! ” The dinner bell interrupted here, and we post- poned our debate over the situation until evening. Naturally enough it did not take us long to decide to accept the invitation. The next few days were spent in preparation and anticipation of our new pleasure, and at last we were really settled in Mrs. St. Clair’s home. Our first dinner was served amid much grand and stately stiffness, butlers stauding around like iron dogs, a footman breathing on the backs of our necks, and such hushed and reverent air that we scarcely dared talk aloud.
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Page 16 text:
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T1IE GOLDEN - ROD V. M. C A. BUILDING OPENS No one attraction in a given community is of greater interest to the average High School fellow than the Young Men’s Christian Association, even in a city where High Schools have gymnasiums as a part of their plant the association gets a goodly proportion of the live fellows for the Athletics and Basket Ball. The reason for this is easy to find but can not be given here for lack of space. The Quincy Y. M. C. A. will soon open their new and handsome plant on Washington street. Whatever may be said of the wooden building; when the interior is inspected it challenges criticism both from point of artistic effect and arrangement. Quincy at last has a place for its young men equal in equipment to any city of its size and sur- passing the average. The gymnasium is larger, and more perfectly lighted and arranged than that of Brockton or even Cambridge. In fact the plan permits of everything required in a fully equipped athletic department. A pair of handsome bowling alleys have for two months attracted much attention. Locker and bath are modern and good style in every way. A lot in the rear of the building is large enough for practice of field athletics. Indoor athletic meets will therefore be a feature in Spring and Fall. Special gymnasium classes and other work for students are scheduled and classes are already in operation. A track team is being talked of to compete with other associations; all this under the direction of a trained Physical Director. In addition to the Physical Department and its equipment is the main building handsomely ap- pointed ; including reading and game room, fire place and social rooms. The Club feature and the social atmosphere of the place are two features hard to describe but which every fellow will feel upon entering. The Special Student ticket is within the reach of every fellow. Be sure and call and look over the building at your earliest opportunity.
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