Quincy High School - Goldenrod Yearbook (Quincy, MA)

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THE GOLDEN-ROD his cap and then he muttered: ‘Poor young thing, poor young thing, Just like the Lady Alice. Just like her. A shame, too bad!’ Now what did he mean? Does he mean that I am like my great-aunt-Alice? Lady Alice Thorpe? I don’t see any harm in that I am sure. Her picture upstairs in the gallery is very beautiful. What made Peter speak so? Please tell me. Did he mean my great-aunt Alice?” “Yes, dear, I think he did. She was very, very beautiful and you are growing more and more like her pictures. I do not remember her myself for she died when I was very young.” ‘‘Yes, I understand, but what did Peter mean about it being a shame that I resembled her? “Well. Alice, she died with her husband in the wreck of their vessel which was bound for America, That was their wedding journey and was to have lasted five years. The Lady Alice was mourned throughout the country for her goodness and charity. She was very kind to old Peter’s mother and I suppose that he remembers her. He probably mixes you up with the ship- wreck in his simple mind.” “Now I see. Poor thing. I am sorry too. What else do you know of her?” The old lady smiled with a little glint of mis- chief in her eyes. “Well, dear, there was a treasure of course.” “A treasure? Where? What was it? How did you know? Please explain.” “The Lady Alice, as oldest daughter of the Thorpes of that generation, had a good deal of fine old lace as her wedding portion. When she was starting for the new world, she said to her younger sister, Claire who was my mother and your grandmother T shall leave my wedding lace here at home. It is to valuable to be taken across the sea. I shall hide it here for fun and will disclose its hiding place to you when I return. ‘It is supposed that she did hide it, and as the poor girl never came back, the lace was never found. Plenty of people have hunted for it, dear so please don’t tear the roof down over my head in your frenzy,” for the girl was rushing about the room followed by both the dogs, looking in every corner. “But just think,” she cried, “a lot of lovely old lace. I shall keep up a search for it myself until cousin Harry comes and then he shall help me.” So, two or three months later Alice Thorpe, perched on a bookshelf in the library was scold- ing her cousin Harry for his inattention. “Listen Harry! Can’t you let that old clock alone a minute? I have something of grave im- portance to tell you,” and she went on with her story of the lace. Harry Thorpe was taking out the old works of a great grandfather’s clock, which stood in one corner of the library, and making ready to put in some modern ones. The young fellow was fond pf his mechanical hobby and preferred his present congenial task to that of treasure hunt- ing among the cold,dusty attics and cellars. “That is all very interesting. Alice, but can’ you get a broom or something and get the dust out of the lower part of this clock?” Alice found a duster and put her hand and arm down gingerly into the depths. “Oh how dusty! Why Harry there seems to be a metal handle down here. How strange! I’m going to pull it. Oh! Oh! i ook!” The girl had drawn up a box, an old black box studded with brass nails. Alice’s eyes were shin- ing as she let her cousin take the box from her and lay it on the soft rug. “Could it be, Harry? Oh do you suppose— you know—the laces?” she stammered. “Good girl! It might be. Here, let’s- call auntie first. Look, Aunt Cornelia what do you think of this? May I force the lock? It’s rusty There now Alice as you found it, open it.” The girl,breathless and trembling from excit- ment. sank on her knees and lifted the lid. while Miss Cornelia and Harry held their breath. Therein the satin lined box lay the wedding laces of Lady Alice Thorpe. There were veils, there were collars, cuffs and ruchings, and there were shawls: all yellow from age and musty of odor but still perfect examples of the lace makers art and a portion fit for a princess. The three people stood there in breathless astonishment and admiration. Then Alice looked at her aunt and laughed: “There Aunt Cornelia, I always told you that Harry’s mechanical hobby would be of some use”

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THE GOLDEN ROD her house several times before the game, know- ing nothing about Drake. She pretended great interest in the game and well.chum. I told her our signals, and more fool I. also showed her how every play was worked. So she could watch the games with more interest, she said. She doesn't know that I suspect her, Dick, and if it’s all the same to you, I would rather she wouldn’t for old time’s sake, will you let it drop?” “All right chum, and don’t let it bother you any more, for I shan’t. Hut one thing, don’t let a girl ever interfere with our friendship again.” As the crowd was preparing to leave at the end of the evening, five fellows, flushed and excited stood over in one corner, arms on each other’s shoulders and at a signal there rang out sharp and clear; filling the hail and floating out to the dressing rooms beyond Hullabaloo Hullabaloo Rockridge High School, White and blue, Ricker Ricker Ricker Old Laces Honorable Mention L. ELWLLL IT was a clear, frosty, October twilight and the brown English meadows with their neat hedgerous glistened with hoar frost. Great bare elm trees bordered the well kept lanes and in the background, close by the old garden stood hick fir and larch trees. The garden itself, held only the ancient sun-dial, the skeletons of the more hardy plants, and the forlorn looking flower beds now quite deserted. Nevertheless, Thorpe Park was a beautiful place as it lay there in the afterglow, and it made a charming setting for the old Manor House of the Thorpe family. The house was a great, rambling pile, entirely of grey stone, covered with still green English Ivy. It belonged to no special period of archi- tecture but seemed to be made up of different styles and enlarged at different times. It was an impressive looking dwelling and at the same time an inviting one. Within the Hall a fire was blazing in the huge fireplace at one end of the big entrance hall. Miss Cornelia Thorp, mistress of the house, had ordered tea there beside the fire, as the rest of the great house seemed chilly to the little lady. As she sat by the blaze, awaiting Alice, her niece who was out riding in the park, the old lady would have delighted an artist’s eye for she was the very picture of graceful Old Age. White curls framed the dainty shell-like face and they matched in cream-whiteness,the bit of old lace at the neck of her lavender gown. It was very quiet in the hall save for the crackling of the big logs which reflected their glow upon the rich woodwork and the old armor on the walls. Suddenly, the great front door opened and in rushed two great shaggy dogs followed by a tall, beautiful young gill in riding costume. She was a typical young English girl, fairhaired, blue-eyed and slender. The dogs kept jumping about her until she cried: “Down boys, down,” and used her riding whip with vigor. Then she crossed the room to her aunt. “Oh good! Tea so early! I am simply famished from riding in this frosty air. See my roses,” and she pointed to her flushed cheeks. “Yes, it is cold. Alice dear. Was Prince Charlie good to-day? When cousin Harry comes you will have to ride old Bess, I fear.” “Oh Prince Charlie was pretty good. He shied at a rabbit over in the south thicket, but never mind the horse. I’m interested in some- thing else. When I was coming back by the paddock bars, old Peter Hurd was there with a bundle of fagots and he opened the gate before I could get down. What do you suppose he said as I was riding through, Aunt Cornelia? It was very, very strange.” “Well dear, you must remember that Peter is very old now. Over a hundred years old you know. He is very likely to make queer remarks but you mustn’t be offended.” “I am not a bit offended. Auntie, really, but it was so strange. He looked at me and doffed

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QUINCY HIGH SCHOOL LIBRARY Quincy, Mass. THE GOLDEN-ROD Ilis name is Lacey, Pat for short, And whether lie’s in school or not, All he does is talk, talk, talk. From morn till night his tongue does swing, As though suspended on a string. “Mr. Gore, go home.” Mr. Gore, “If I go home, I’ll have to work.” A—“I hear that the senior class is going to have their reception in Music Hall.” B—“How did they do it?” A—“Just as (M) Howe said.” Leathers may have a license to run an auto but who gave him a license to run Room 28. Miss Blanche Morrison is very good at mak- ing Welsh Rabbit, but better still at making Welch dance. A pair of legs, a head, a suit of clothes, that’s all He wears a number thirteen shoe and measures seven feet tall. But as to weight the Hull thing’s mighty small. When one bright student of athletic trend, had signed his name for manual trainii g. he raised his hand and innocently asked. “When arc they going to get a Physical instructor?” MissG—You’re a straight Junior, aren't on Mr M-----?” Mr. M— d—n, (turning rather red), “I I- thought so.” Remember the eighth commandment, Mr. Treasurer. The last scene in the Dramatics showed a great deal of practice. Oh, Mabel? A—“N—s—h ‘09 has a new attraction.” B—“What?” A—“Not a Belgian Hare.” Farewell, Miss Farwcll, Favorite pastime of Curtis, P. G.—Tripp through Merry Mount Park. A—“Mr. H. C—s ‘07 has a new job when lie leaves school.” B—“What?” A—A Barker Miss Souther has changed the end of Poe’s poem “The Raven,” and now it reads, Mr. Gore—never more.” Miss B---to Miss D—wli-st ’09— “Would you like to be a butterfly?” Miss D—“I’d rather be a Miller.” Why does Lacey contrast with the New York National team? Because on the New York team Doyle plays second, and with Lacey Doyle plays first. •A—“I hear ‘Dune’ is fond of steak.” B—“That may be, but he likes Liver-more.”