Quincy High School - Goldenrod Yearbook (Quincy, MA)

Page 12 text:

THE COIjDKN- ROD was quiet. Pat had written as an ending. “An if ye ever are in danger, sure an I’d rather die meself saving ye , than be the greatest man in the land.” “Dear Pat,” he murmured, as he went into the house. Two days later, as Pat was in the village post-office busily sorting his mail to be carried about, he heard the clatter! clatter! of crutches coming up the wooden steps and soon little lame Harry appeared; But how happy he looked! His fact was one beam of joy. and his lovely eyes gleamed brightly. “Mama’s coming.” he shouted, as soon as he caught sight of Pat. “The station boy jus brought this. waving a telegram excitedly, “and I’m going to the station now to meet her. Won’t you come too? I want you to see my beautiful Mama. Please say you will.” and he tugged at his coat impatiently. “Well. thin, if ye in- tind ter make me coat fit th’ wrong way by tlr pullin’ ye’re afther givin to it. I guess I better go with ye. ter kape yer quiet, and then make th' rounds with th’ letters afterwards.” “Come on then! hurry up!” Harry cried, as he plied his crutches vigorously down the steps, “and we can just reach the station in time for her train, .lust see how fast 1 can go!” And he hurried on. The two friends had almost reached the station when they heard a distant train-whistle. “There she is!” Harry cried and hurried ahead of Pat across the street to the station. In his excitement he did not see the wagon coming, the heavy express cart, with the big snorting horse, until it was almost upon him. But Pat did. Turning quickly he noticed there was but one chance in a thousand to save little Harry. With one bound the Irishman was out in the street and in another moment, had grasped the aston- ished boy in his strong arms and lifted him from the danger of the horse, but not from all danger! The runaway was upon him! Pat thought only of his burden and did not see the stone, the large rock half hidden in the dust, until too late! He stumbled and fell. He was only con- scious of a rumbling noise above him. a quick pain, the shouts of men and women: and then all was black! About two hours later he awoke. At first he was so dazed that he saw nothing, but could feel that he was in a beautiful room with many flowers and people. A terrible pain seemed to pierce like a knife through his right leg. He moaned. Some one bent over him. “Harry, me boy!” he breathed. “You have saved him from a terrible death,” a woman’s voice gently answered, “and I thank you with all my heart and soul.” Pat opened his eyes; a very beautiful wo- man was bending over him. “Where?” he asked, and the lady went to a group of three at the further corner of the room. A little boy left the others and came with the lady to his bedside.” “Dear Pat.” he murmured, “you gave me back to my Mama.” Then he threw himself upon the bed and sobbed, “and you almost died. too. Pat. just as you said in the letter you would and I couldn’t bear that. But the doc- tor made you better and you are coming back to live with me and Mama in New York. And you needn’t do any work, and we will be happy together, just think!” The beautiful lady came nearer and bent over the two forms on the bed. “You will let me thank you this way. Pat. won’t you?” she asked. “Yes. ma’am for the sake of me swateheart boy.” he answered, smiling as only an Irish- man can. jt jfc jfc The Four Classes. The freshman class of Quincy High Is that of nineteen ten, And though we look down on them now We hope to praise them then. The sophomore class above them stands. The class of nineteen nine; And as they are a year advanced. They ought to toe the line. The junior class is next in rank, And they must not forget That though they are a splendid class, They are not seniors yet. And now the worthy seniors come. Hut not for long to stay; For they must start their books to pack, And journey on their way. Roy C. Givbn, '07.

Page 11 text:

THE GOLDEN- ROD is, that every spring we make a journey up into the mountains, and there we work for many days touching the trees, flowers and streams to bring them all back to life again. It is the best fun of the whole year. Perhaps you would care to come with us sometime and watch us at our work.” But before Dick could reply, the Queen bade them return to their flowers, for they had spent too much time already, talking to their new acquaintance. So, quickly as they had come they were gone, and when he had watched the last silvery wing vanish, he was startled by a voice calling his name. He sat up. and rubbing his eyes, saw the landlady standing in the doorway. She beck- oned to him and lie slipped down oft the bench and started slowly up the narrow garden path that led to the door of the Inn. lie looked closely at the flowers but they said never a word. Instead, their eyes were closed tightly. When he reached the door, the good lady said. “My child, your father is waiting for you in the dining room. Your supper has been ready for you for half an hour, but you looked so happy sleeping, that I did not like to waken you.” Dick went in. through the narrow hall and on to the dining room. When he entered, his father looked up from the paper he was read- ing and said, “Well. son. did you have your sleep out? I saw you curled up in the garden and thought you had better sleep. But now sit down and eat your supper, for it is late.” Dick was unusually quiet during the meal and only once did he speak. Then he said. “Father, are there fairies out in the garden?” His father looked up, surprised at this question, and said, “Why. I am sure I don’t know. Are there?” With this as an encouragement, Dick re- lated the experience he had had and his father «ave his closest attention. When he had fin- ished he said gravely. “Well Dick, perhaps you are right. There may be fairies out there but the idea had not occurred to me before. We will look tomorrow, however, and see if we can see them. But now that your supper is finished, you had better go to bed.” The Postman’s friendship. By Ella F. Packard. The postman of the little village of X— whistled merrily as he went up the path to a small white cottage with a green, well-kept iawn. He never used to whistle, but now a little boy was there, who always hobbled out on his crutches to get the letters. “Sure an there he is!” suddenly cried the mail-carrier, as lie caught sight of the little figure swinging down the path as quickly as if he were not lame at all. As the boy came near, the man called out jestingly. “Arrah, now, and do ye think ye’ll be afther geetn’ a letter from me this day whin ye took yer lave from th’ house so quick without a hat?” “Oh, yes, Pat. answered the little one saucily, “be- cause you would write one yourself if Mama didn’t send me one.” “Arrah. and ve’ve got the impident tongue on yez ter answer yer swate-heart like tliot, Harry me boy. An’ how does ye know that I writ yez a bit of a letter, at all. at all?” “Why, you write like you talk!” exclaimed the little boy. looking up at the tall Irishman quickly. “An’ it’s a mighty poor way, to be sure.” the latter answered rather shamefaced- ly. “but as ver mither is too busy in th social aft airs of th’ world ter care for yez. I t’ought ye wudn’t mind if I tried ter cheer yez up a bit. whilst ye was getting well here. P’raps ye wudn’t be afther wantin’ the letter I writ in th’ office this mornin’. thin?” “Oh. Pat! of course I want the new letter. You make such funny pictures and say such funny things in them.” So Pat took from his pocket a large en- velope and gave it to the little boy. “Oh! what a nice big one! “Harry cried, “can I read it right now?” “Sure, but I'll have ter be laving yez. An’ here’s the Boston paper for th’ old man an’ his wife. Ye’ll be givin’ it to tliim whin ye go in. Goodbye.” He .turned and went quickly down the street. Then the little lame boy was left alone. He opened his letter smilingly and read, laugh- ing at the queer characters. But suddenly he

Page 13 text:

THE GOLDEN’-ROD PranR Bussell’s Advance. By Carleton W. Cummings. In the town of M— on a branch of the M. C. R. R. lived a widow. Mrs. Russell, with her two children, Frank, aged eighteen, and Mar- garet. aged sixteen. Frank was a tall, dark-complexioned, sturdy looking fellow. He had finished his High School course and had hoped for at least two years at some college when his father's sudden death threw the support of the family upon his mother and himself. Ilis sister was delicate and his mother had .never been very strong, therefore Frank felt keenly the weight of responsibility which now rested upon him. Soon after the lad’s twelfth birthday lie had become immensely interested in electricity and working with a friend, had fixed up a telegraph so that now when he was eighteen he could send and receive messages at a good speed. Con- sequently when it was announced that the little town of M— was to have telegraphic instru- ments installed in its station and would, there- fore. need a new station agent. Frank’s hopes arose at once, and lie consulted his mother about applying for the position. The plan was looked upon favorably and soon he received the appointment of station master. The traffic on this branch was small and the pay correspond- ingly so since there were only four trains a day. the last one being at seven in the evening. As Frank was expected to stay at the station only for the half hour before the arrival of each train, there was plenty of time for odd jobs and errands around the village, and being naturally bright and active he made these odd jobs count. Five miles to the north of M— was the small manufacturing city of L— and two miles to the south, the railroad crossed an old bridge ever Deep River. A new bridge was to be put up the following summer, but as few trains passed over it, there was little thought about its safety. This branch left the main line about twelve miles north of M— and joined it again about six miles south of M Frank had heard that on Monday night the General Superintendent of the road was to pass by on the main line with a party of friends in a special train. Therefore, when on Sunday a heavy rain had settled down on that part of the country, and by Monday morn- ing had washed out a place on the main line between the points where the branch joined it. Frank, fearful-lest some accident might occur, had planned to watch the Special when it should go by at eleven-thirty I'. M. But as luck would have it. at a little before ten on Monday night, a friend came in and asked him if he would go to the next town, two miles southeast of M—. and get the doctor for his mother who was very ill. Of course, Frank was willing to go and set out immediately. He reached the doctor’s at quarter of eleven, de- livered his message, and was about to start homeward when it occurred to him to go up to the Deep River bridge and return by way of the track. By this route he could, after all. see the Special. By the roadside he paused, amazed at tin sight of a lake where usually there was a broad meadow. Although the river bed was only about fifty feet from the road he could see nothing but an occasional tree stump or fence rail which, in spite of the short distance, looked like a black spot with no shape whatever. When he reached the railroad embankment, it was with difficulty that he clambered up the steep incline. Having reached the top. he was hor- rified to see that the bridge had been washed away and that only the telegraph j oles re- mained. His mind worked quickly and his first impulse was to try to reach his station, two miles away and Hag the train, for there were no houses where he could obtain a lantern nearer than the village from which he had just come. But on second thought he remembered the telegraph and rushing to a place where the wires were only about four and a half feet above the earth, he took out his knife and tried to cut one. It seemed as if he could never cut it. Final- ly it parted and he seized the two ends and put them to his mouth to see if the circuit was still complete. lie drew a sigh of relief as he caught the salty taste from the electric cur- rent and then bringing the two ends of the wire together by touching and separating them he spelled the call for L—. Then putting the