Quincy High School - Goldenrod Yearbook (Quincy, MA)

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THE GOLDEN-ROD a little reluctantly was helped oft the field. On the side line Ramey, the Sumner coach, was shaking his head and muttering to himself, “Looks mighty queer, I have never seen that fellow leave the game while he was able to stand up.” Redding's opportunity had come. Stopping only to inquire of his friend’s injury, he was in his position in less time than it takes to relate it. Standing on his goal line the Hastings’ full- back prepared to punt. Redding had noticed throughout the game the opposing centre’s poor passing. He moved up from his position of defensive half-back to one directly behind his own left tackle. The moment the ball was passed he was through the Hastings’ line, having gotten in in some unexplained way, (a way which he could not explain himself after the game.) As luck would have it, the pass was poor, the opposing full-back being compelled to reach for it on the ground. Rqdding was upon him before he had straightened himself and by a fierce tackle threw him across his own goal line. For a moment there was a great silence all over the field. Then, the Sumner contingent broke out into wild cheering which did not cease until a few minutes later, when the game ended. Cushing had had sufficient time to escape the mob of wildly cheering youths, but not so with Redding and the remaining members of the vic- torious team. As rocking periously on the shoulders of two youths of his own age he gazed at the score board upon which the figures, Sum- ner 6—opponents 5. met his gaze, he proudly felt that lie had indeed won his “S.” From his comfortable position in the barge half lying on the sweaters and cushions. Cush- ing saw the red head of his chum triumphantly leading the procession. He felt that he had done the right thing by him and as a result felt happier than he had ever felt before. I'll have to put on a limp for a month or two so as not to spoil it.” he thought. For a month after the memorable game, “Babe” Cushing was an object of sympathy to all the students with his sometimes exaggerated limp. A. J. Jobin, ’09. The Coral Drops It was such a gloomy day without, that Marie begged her mother to allow her to take the treasured jewel box from the old cedar chest, so that she might amuse herself by looking over its contents. She was granted her request and huddled among the pillows in the large leather-cushioned arm chair before the open fire, she looked through the old gems one by one. Last of all she picked up a small dusty box and found in it a coral drop. She ex- amined it closely and seeing the dainty carv- ings upon it she asked. “Mother, what is this?” “Why, Marie, have I never told you about that dear old coral?” Her mother hesitated, then went on: “It was one of your great grandmother’s earrings which were given to her by one of the nobility of the English court. “When my dear grandmother died, she gave one of these drops to each of her daughters. She expressed tin desire that these jewels be carefully preserved and after three generations, one drop should be given to a son of one fam- ily and the second to a daughter of the other. My dear grandmother's wish will be faithfully carried out with regard to this drop which is now to be yours. I have no knowledge of what has become of the other coral as our family is so widely scattered. It may be that it has been lost or its story forgotten. Who knows ? “But. deary, think no more about it. it is merely a pretty tale, and only illustrates one of the many odd ways of the dear old lady.” Marie was allowed to wear the coral as a pendant and as time passed by many of her

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THE GOLDEN-ROD announced himself to Ramey as a candidate for the back field. Robert Carroll, for this was his name, had entered Sumner a week before this time. The new candidate proved his worth as a player from the very beginning and with his weight and all-round foot-ball ability was slowly but surely winning a place on the team. To his dismay Redding realized that if any one in the baekfield must make way for Carroll, it would be he himself, as Cushing and Hamil- ton. the captain, with Winslow, a veteran of two seasons, were playing the other positions. A week before the game with Hastings. Walter Ramey, the coach, with much regret, for he admired Redding’s pluck and determination, decided that it would be best for the team, to have Carroll in the baekfield. lie did not reach a decision until he learned that Hastings had an exceptionally heavy team that year. Cushing was at the opening of the story try- ing to console his rather discouraged roommate when his sympathizing words were rewarded in the manner described. Thanksgiving morning dawned clear, but un- usually cold. As the rival teams left the gym- nasium of Sumner Academy in the large barges for the field of battle, the sound of the cheering of the rival student bodies could be heard dis- tinctly. After a slight warming up practice and final instructions from their coaches, the teams lined up for the struggle. Sumner’s rather light team very soon dis- covered that the reports of Hastings’ having an unusually heavy eleven were wholly true. Her team was kept continually on the defensive in the first half and if it had not been for the wonderful punting of “Babe” Cushing, the re- sult would have been a large score in favor of Hastings at the end of the first period of play. As it was. Hastings, amid the exultant shouts of her adherents, scored a touch down toward the last of the half. Her over confident full-back missed an easy goal, for which he was extremely sorry after the game. The second half began with Hastings more confident than ever and Sumner determined to keep the score at least as it was. “Babe” Cush- ing had told Redding that he would surely get a chance to play part of the time, thereby getting the coveted “S.” Redding realized as he saw Sumner going down to defeat and Carroll play- ing a star game that his chances were very slim. These gloomy thoughts were quickly dispelled when in a second he was up on his feet yelling and waving a purple sweater. For Hamilton breaking through Hastings’ line had gained twenty yards and Carroll had followed with a run around Hastings’ left end for fifteen more. The Sumner side of the field was a mass of waving color. But the purple jerseys of the Sumner backs were unable to penetrate further through the heavy line of Hastings. After a consultation, Cushing was seen stand- ing ten yards from the centre. In a moment the ball came back to him and he sent it sailing over the enemy’s goal by a beautiful drop-kick from the forty yard line. The cheering had not yet subsided when the two teams again lined up for the kick-off. The score was now 5-4, in favor of Hastings, and Sumner still had a fighting chance. Sumner received the kick-off and by a series of forward passes and line plays worked the ball to the middle of the field. An on-side kick luckily recovered by Sumner’s left end brought the ball to Ilasting’s thirty-five yard line. Hamilton, seeing that this was the last chance to win. called on his team for a supreme effort. Aided by Carroll and Cushing, he began an ir- resistible advance through the heavy Hastings forwards. On the ten yard line the Hastings’ line would not give an inch. Cushing, in getting up after having tried an ineffectual plunge squarely into the huge Hastings’ guard, happened to see “Red” Redding jumping up and down on the sideline. Two more unsuccessful tries were made by the exhausted backs of Sumner Acad- emy and Cushing, lying on the ground, heard, with a sinking heart, the referee call out “Hast- ings’ ball, first down.” He thought of “Red” and then made apparent efforts to get up from the ground. In a moment Hamilton was at his side, “I guess it’s my left knee. Bill.” said Cushing. With much effort he stood up, and

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THE GOLDEN-ROD hours were spent in day dreams. “Would it be possible that she would ever meet the owner of the second gem? Was it lost? Was its story lost?” These were the questions she often asked herself. Two years later, on Marie’s twentieth birth- day she stood with her mother and father at the rail of a large ocean liner, waving to her friends on shore. She was going to Europe to pursue her studies in music. As she sat in her steamer chair she often lingered the beloved pendant which she always wore. “No one had ever recognized it-----. But perhaps—in Europe—oh no. it could not be.” were the thoughts that passed through her mind dreamily. While in Europe Marie met many of her relatives, near and distant. She became a chum of an orphan boy who lived with her aunt in England. The boy’s mother had been a dear friend and relative of Marie’s aunt, with whom Walter bad lived since his mother’s death. He was an interesting young man. a graduate of Oxford, and as his aunt (as he called her) was an invalid, he showed Marie and her par- ents the historical spots near his home. He also travelled much with them and as they furthered their acquaintance with him. the strength and beauty of his character deeply im- pressed them. Walter and Marie had many interests in common and so found great pleasure in each other’s companionship. One day she told him the tale of her coral. He was fascinated with the story and said he would like to have known the old grandmother. Marie sighed, for Walter, then, had never heard the story before. Her dreams were shattered and she wished that she had not told her story to him. Marie and her parents were to return to America the following week. She often thought how lonesome she would be without Walter, for she now realized she loved him. As Marie bade Walter goodbye, he said, “I feel that it may be only for a short time that I shall be away from you—a few weeks. Marie. —but that all depends upon you.” he smiled confidently. “Here is a little token I wish you to have, in memory of our first acquaint- ance. Open it on the steamer and let me know your answer. ’ ’ While the steamer sailed out of the South Hampton Harbor. Marie remained on the deck until she could see her friends no longer, then she went into her cabin, purposely to look at her small bundle. With trembling hands she raised the cover of a little vevet box. and there, smiling up at her was—the second coral. It seemed as if fate had joined hands with the dear old grandmother. Ninon Lacey. ’09.