Quincy High School - Goldenrod Yearbook (Quincy, MA)

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THE GOLDEN-ROD which follow, upon having new quarters to occupy next fall, supplying that long felt need of room, and containing many improvements. And we wish to thank the citizens of Quincy for obtaining this addition which means so much to the future citizens of this city. J v J School spirit may be shown in many different ways. Many of us are extremely careless in the untidy condition of the basement, and some of the desks. Paper and miscellaneous articles are thrown at waste baskets in haste, instead of into them. This untidiness shows lack of thought on the pupil’s part, which should be overcome. We can show our school spirit in one direction by taking good care of the building, and of its interior. «3 «3 3 A good school library is something that would be greatly appreciated by the pupils and teachers of the school. With the new building comes the prospect of a much needed room, which may be devoted to reference books alone. In the pre- sent condition of our school, the pupils who wish to make use of encyclopaedias and general refer- ence books, are obliged to go to Room 3, where there is always a recitation. Of course, the con- stant flow of scholars, going and coming, some- what disturbs the class which is in progress, and those using the books cannot do so much as if the room was perfectly quiet. So cheer up, you studious ones, don’t lose courage, for the new school and library are coming! The teacher asked, “ What is space?” The trembling student said, I cannot think at present But I have it in my head.”—Ex. Query : What cause impels the diminutive schoolboy to hasten forward so rapidly, as if seeking some object before him? Answer : The bell of the school. Query : What cause impels the large High School boy to hasten forward so rapidly as if seeking some object before him? Answer : The belle of the school.— Ex. Rufe Anderson’s Thief. By Roy Given, ’07. Rufc Anderson was a young fisherman, tall, broad-shouldered and powerful. His red, weather- stained, but bright countenance beamed down alike on all with honesty, pure and simple, written on every feature. For this reason he had gradu- ally become disliked among the fiishermen of that vicinity, men who were less firm in their moral principles. Consequently he became the victim of many unkind tricks as he met them in his daily round of fishing, but these he bore bravely, more than ever determined not to give in. He lived in a solitary hut built against a cliff on the edge of a large green cove that extended majestically into the land and out again, as if once upon a time the angry waters had swept against the land in a rage, and had torn away the earth. Its graceful curve terminated in a long and sandy point about opposite Rufe’s shanty. Off this point upon a small ledge of rocks Ruf had set his lobster pots as a temptation for the fish that crawled slowly about the kelp-covered rocks. Ever)- morning bright and early, before the sun had barely risen above the trees on the island across the sound, Rufe rowed over to the ledge, hauled his pots and took out the unfortu- nate victims. For the past two weeks he had been getting fine hauls from his pots, which, with his other fishing and clamming, kept him busy from sun- rise to sunset besides increasing his income to an amount far above all previous records. Every- thing ran on smoothly and prosperously and Rufe went about his wrork in foul and pleasant wreather cheerfully and happily. One wet, foggy afternoon when he returned from his day's fishing, tired and wet, he found a fisherman w-aiting on the beach for his return. It w-as Peter West, a small middle-aged man, w-ho lived across, on the island. This seemed rather queer, for Peter had not been very cordial of late and very seldom came to the cove. Never- theless Rufe gave him a hearty welcome and in- vited him inside out of the wet. “ Rather nasty outside this aft’noon, Peter, for small craft.” “ Right ye be, sea’s runnin, pretty high when

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Che Golden-Rod. QUINCY, MASS., APRIL, 1906. CHARLES K. HOGAN, W. ) I-i I TAI1 C ( DOROTHY FAY, 06. EUGENE SANDERS, '06. j LUI I Ukj j OLIVE L. HUSTON, '06. Business Manager,—WILLIAM E. HOWE, '06. Ube Class of 1906 Each class that has left the Quincy High School has withdrawn with regret; in the same spirit docs the class of 1906 take its departure, and we are learning, that no class can ever fully appreciate all the advantages afforded, and the kindness shown, until the time for graduating comes. Even though we have been crowded for room and have lacked some advantages which other- wise might have been ours, still many who have prepared for college will successfully enter. There have been many courses of study from which we could choose and by means of them many pupils will enter business houses from this High School. Outside of the studies we have had excellent training in music, a course which many schools lack entirely. Hindered to some extent by having no gymna- sium, yet our class has furnished many members of both foot-ball and base-ball teams. Indeed, we may justly be proud of the records they have made. The girls’ athletics have been hindered even more than the boys, because of this lack. If we had had a gymnasium, basket-ball might have been continued throughout the winter and other healthful sports practised. As it was both boys and girls have lacked the benefit gained from physical training. Yet even if we have not had the pleasure we ought to have derived from athletics, we certainly have gained it from social gatherings. These have been many and delight- ful. Each year since we have been sophomores, we have enjoyed at least three receptions, and in our first year we were fortunate enough to have a reception tendered us by the graduating class of that year. Besides these occasions, every year the school has given a concert. The pro- ceeds of these concerts have been devoted to a fund for decorating the school, and now with this fund many decorations for the new building will be purchased. Ever since our class entered the school, we have cherished the hopes of occupying new quarters. But never until now have our hopes been realized and, as we fear, too late for our advantage. Yet, as we leave, although with re- luctance, wc wish to congratulate the classes

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THE GOLDEN- HOD I came in, ’specially across the reef. How'd they bite to-day ? ” “ First t’rate, got a good haul of small had- dock and a few large cod, considering the weather an’ all. Got a fine haul of lobsters this morning, best so fur this week. S’pose your still gettin’ good hauls! ” “ No, scarce, scarce as kin be and all small — by the way have you got any bait you kin spare ? I’m rather shy fer to-morrow mornin’, don’t want much.” “ Certain, your welcome to what’s left, I’m going to town to-morrow, so won’t haul till Thurs- day, better stay and have something to cat. Rather disagreeable out.” “ No, guess not, got to go home early. Much obliged. Good night.” When Rufe went to his traps Thursday morn- ing he found only two full grown lobsters in them. His good fortune of previous weeks had changed, but he lost no time in complaining. Instead, at low tide, he rowed cheerfully across the cove and dug clams enough to equal his loss of the morning’s haul. Continuous clam digging was fatiguing work even for Rufe,who was trained to it by years of hard experience. So he retired early and slept soundly through the long cloudy night. Again the next morning Rufe hauled only to meet with the same result; so he piled all the pots in a boat and dropped them on a smaller ledge about a quarter of a mile up the shore. As this change brought no better success he took them back to the old ledge, never discouraged, but rather puzzled by this sudden and complete change in his lobstering. One week passed, each day of which came and went with empty traps. Monday night the moon shone strong and bright from a clear blue sky, sending its silvery rays across the little cove. From the door of his hut Rufe could plainly see the ledge where his useless pots were lying. Here he sat till late into the night meditating upon his lobster problem. When Rufe rowed across to the ledge in the morning a happy sur- prise was in store for him. Nearly every trap had a good catch. Two more days came with almost the same success. This aroused his sus- picions. In the afternoon of the third day black clouds arose from the west, hiding the sun and making the evening dark and thick. After sup- per Rufe sauntered along the beach, around the cove and out to the extremity of the point. Here he found a hiding place behind some old rails of a long broken-down fence and waited. At half past eleven he was suddenly aroused from a half doze by a slight splashing and rippling of the water. Looking towards the reef he saw in an instant the answer to his lobster problem. The following night he was at his post on the point, this time clad in swimming apparel with a large ulster thrown over his shoulders for protec- tion against the evening dampness. When eleven o’clock came he was wide awake and watchful. At last, across the sound he perceived a black speck coming rapidly towards the point. Taking a log from the fence he plunged into the water, pushing it in advance as he gracefully swam towards the ledge. Near a lobster pot that was located on the edge of the ledge he stopped swimming, resting lightly on the log. The water was cool but Rufe did not notice this in his anxiety about the black speck that was rapidly approach- ing the pots. When this speck had reached the first pot he recognized the fisherman’s dory and its one lonely occupant. One by one the pots were hauled and emptied. Gradually and silently the dory approached the pot where Rufe was waiting. The critical moment was near. He must not be discovered. Two strokes under water brought him up under the protecting shadow of the overhanging stern of the dory, while the thief was hauling the last trap. This completed, the thief sat down to the oars for retreat. Before he could take a stroke Rufe plunged through the water, grabbed the blade of the port oar, threw his entire weight upon it, and with the gunwale as a fulcrum hurled it off into the darkness. A quick plunge under water brought Rufe up on the other side where he found the other oar floating on the water where the thief had dropped it in his bewilderment. The wind was now blowing quite hard and the bewildered thief was drifting helplessly toward Rufe’s hut. When the dory grounded on the smooth beach Rufe was there to receive its occupant. With knitted brows and lowered head, Peter West walked sullenly up the beach under the guiding influence of Rufe’s double barreled shot gun.