Quincy High School - Goldenrod Yearbook (Quincy, MA)

Text from Pages 1 - 33 of the 1911 volume:

Vol. XX QUINCY, MASS., JANUARY, 1911 No. 1 The Golden-Rod DOROTHY DARLING, Editor-in-Chicf SIDNEY CRANE, Literary Editor DORIS STRAW, Alumni and Exchange Editor PHILIP RICE, Local and Joke Editor MILLARD CHAPMAN, Athletic Editor (SUunc IbtQb School CLARA BUSHNELL, Artiet PAUL BLACKMUR, Business Manager 0161 WV31 IHVOJLOOd HOIH ADNIflO v. The Golden-Rod QUINCY, MASS., JANUARY, 1911 EDITORIALS At last the Quincy High is supplied with a much-needed lunch counter. Now it is possible for each one to have his choice of soups, sand- wiches, home made cake and pie, cocoa (with whipped cream and two graham crackers) or some special dish, all for the trifling sum of five cents each. Here’s to the lunch counter! May it live long and prosper! The matter of choosing a class motto has been lately brought to our minds. A class motto is, theoretically, a sentiment which should be the guiding star of each pupil’s existence. Accord- ing to the custom of the past, it has been chosen during the latter part of the senior year, when each one is so occupied with his own affairs that he has hardly time to become acquainted with the chosen words, to say nothing of living up to them. In this way, the motto is of absolutely no use, except to fill up space on the graduation pro- gram. It lies with you, undergraduates, either to remedy this absurd custom by choosing your mot- to now, or to do away with it altogether. We wish to extend a hearty welcome to Miss Nute, Miss Kirmaver, Miss Whitaker. Miss Whit- comb, Mr. Robinson, Mr. Smith, Mr. Fenner, Mr. Schoonmaker and Mr. Ray. Miss Perkins, our new instructor in music, has entered upon her work with such enthusiasm that we may expect a most excellent High School con- cert. One of our budding poets has written the words for a new school song, in response to Miss Perkin’s offer to adapt such words to music. This makes two school songs for a school of 700. More! More! All contributions, in the shape of stories, poems, essays and the like will be most gratefully received by the “Golden Rod.” These may be passed to Miss Nute or to your English teacher. We need your support. Show your school spirit by helping us to put out the best school pa- per possible! Pay your class dues! Can’t you—won’t you realize how much we need the money ? Also buy the “Golden Rod.” Buy two copies, and if you can’t use them yourself, send them to your rela- tives and friends. Here is another case where we need the money. Keep off the grass! The lawn shouldn’t be trampled upon any more, now that it is frozen, than when we came back to school in September, and were charged by Mr. Ilowlett to keep away from its emerald greenness. 6 THE GOLDEN-ROD Agatha’s Soldier of the Roses I The roses nodded at one another with an un- derstanding look as the light breeze stirred them, in their retreat over the great white pillars of the old Virginian mansion, while beneath them stood a young girl and, one or two steps below her, a man, a soldier in his shining grey uniform. They were not happy. In fact, both were decidedly miserable and were vainly postponing that last goodbye and trying to appear perfectly at ease. One long handclasp, a hurried “Remember, Agatha.” and the young soldier was gone, he and his horse appearing at intervals, as the winding drive revealed them. But he did not look back, for the blinding rush of tears to his eyes, as he thought that perhaps this was the last time, would have prevented his seeing her. Then quickly the great wide panelled door swung open and Hugh Randell came toward his sister. “Agatha, that young friend of mine. Mr. Lane will arrive shortly for a visit of several days and I hope you will enjoy entertaining him.” “Of course, Hugh. There is the carriage com- ing now. Excuse me until dinner time, please.” A few minutes before dinner Agatha went down to meet Hugh’s friend. She made a lovely picture as, all in white, she slowly descended the dark oaken staircase, her golden hair and dark eyes making a striking contrast. So thought Mr. Lane as he stood at the foot of the stairs with a rapt expression of admiration on his thoughtful countenance. At dinner he brought the conver- sation around to the war and its hardships and finally asked Agatha if she were acquainted with Miles Leigh, of the —th cavalry? Yes, she knew him very well. Was he a freind of Mr. Lane’s? Xo, but Mr. Lane would like a moment with Miss Randell later. Accordingly, when Hugh went to the Judge’s, Lane and Miss Randell made their way through the long shaded paths of the old-fashioned gar- den. with the hollyhocks and marigolds on either side, to the small green summer house. At once he took up the unfinished conversation concern- ing Miles Leigh. “My dear Miss Randell, I’m afraid you’ve been basely deceived. Leigh is no more than a common adventurer. I met him on ray way here engaged with a pretty young woman in Langdon. He has half a dozen girls’ hearts and I only want to save yours. I think you understand.” “But I don’t, Mr. Lane. Of course, all your insinuations are false and I do not wish to hear my friends abused.” “I ask your pardon if I appeared rude,” re- turned Lane. “Let us talk of a subject more in- teresting—yourself for instance, if I may be so presuming. You must know that I am already much interested in you.” I nfortunately. the subject had not the slight- est interest for Agatha and soon she escaped from his unwelcome presence. In about an hour, an anonymous letter in an unknown hand was brought her. As she read the letter, which advised her to beware of Miles Leigh’s charms as they were dangerous, she thought it strange that people were so consider- ate as to take notice of her affairs, and just a tiny spark of distrust of Miles Leigh, her soldier, thrust itself forward. It was foolish of her to heed such letters and warnings but the writer must know something about him. Therefore, when a letter, overflowing with trust, tenderness and love came from Miles himself, it was not re- garded with quite such loving eyes as had said goodbye to him a few days before. In the terrible battle of Bull Run, the southern army under Lee defeated General Pope. Both armies were horribly butchered, thousands killed, and many wounded. Among the last was Miles Leigh, who was picked up and carried to a northern hospital, where a wound confined him many weeks. From this time, Agatha Randell heard no more of him. II. It was the next May and the night of Agatha’s birthday dance. The large drawing-rooms were one mass of roses and even the candles had rose- colored shades, which cast a soft light on the love- ly rooms and costumes of the young girls. THE GOLDEN-ROD 7 Just as the music for the first dance com- menced, to the surprise of all her friends, Agatha and Mr. Lane stepped forward and Colonel Ran- dell formally announced their betrothal. Then the music commenced again and the dance be- gan. During the interval after the dance, Lane and Agatha were resting by the door leading to a side veranda. He was admiring and flattering Agatha, who surely was worthy of all he said, in her rose-colored gown with white throat and shoulders just visible, when he noticed an odd- looking man in the ray of light, reflected from the room. The man was haggard and brown even in so dim a light. As soon as Lane saw him, the man on the steps disappeared, and, not caring to disturb Agatha, he did not mention the iucident. The evening passed quickly and all seemed as happy as the hostess. George Lane had pleased Agatha exceedingly and she wondered if any of her friends had had a more agreeable com- panion that evening. But he was returning to his own home in the morning and what should she do without him? If only he hadn’t talked so of Miles,—and, as she thought of him, the love of her girlhood for Miles Leigh appealed more strongly to her than all the homage and flattery of Mr. Lane. Then, came the thought of the utter hopelessness of loving him, for had he not died long ago in some northern prison ? III. June came in Virginia with all the splendor and beauty of the preceding year. Roses fairly hid the southern mansion of Colonel Randell and the air was heavy with the sweetness of their perfume. Nothing could compare with tin love- liness of this day. thought Agatha, as she sat on the steps in the early morning. In her hand, was a letter from George Lane, which she was about to open. She was startled to find neither the writing inside nor the signature was his. It read: “My dear Miss Randell:—lam the surgeon who is attending Mr. Lane in his present illness, and consider it necessary to inform you what he said in his delirium last night. It was to the ef- fect that he was marrying you merely for money, and that his hatred for a Mr. Leigh had led him to do this. I also learned that Mr. Leigh is at home and is kept from seeing you only by your engagement to Mr. Lane. I have written the same facts to Mr. Leigh. “lain,—” Naturally, this letter was a great shock to the girl, who had been anticipating her lover’s com- ing on the next day, but with the shock she felt an overwhelming sense of relief. She had thought she loved him—evidently she did not. Agatha’s surprise was still greater to see a horse- man in a grey uniform, which had seen long, hard service, approaching at a gallop. Miles Leigh dismounted eagerly and ran up the steps. Agatha’s brown eyes seemed to satisfy the question in his. Anyway, the roses seemed per- fectly satisfied as they nodded wisely at one an- other. D. J. S., ’ll. cfi o o Jones’ Theory Rudolf Asticot Jones had a theory. It was an entirely new one that he had worked up himself and therefore it must be good. TIis theory was that people at heart are good; that if a person be- comes contaminated, it is because of outside in- fluence; that impulses come directly from the heart and therefore must be good. From these statements Jones concluded that if every person acted on his first impulse, the moral advancement of this planet would be more rapid. One fine October morning Jones at last re- solved to put his theory to a practical test for a few days, and prove it conclusively to his own satisfaction and also to his wife’s who was, as 8 THE GOLDEN-ROD vet, just a little doubtful as to its practicalness. He left home in fine spirits with his heart keenly alert for the least impulse. When he had gone about half way to the station, he saw a very small boy clinging frantically to a large dog in an effort to restrain him from a passing tramp that the dog had evidently mistaken for his breakfast. Immediately Jones felt an impulse, so according to his theory he quickly acted upon it by going to the boy’s aid. Their combined ef- forts were sufficient to hold the dog until the tramp hurried around a corner. The result of his first impulse was that Jones missed his train and got his neatly tailored clothes covered with dirt and dog hair, but he felt that his first ex- periment was successful. Jones waited patiently for a later train and when it came he got on and sat down directly be- hind a young lady and gentleman. lie began reading his paper as usual because he believed that impulses enough would come to him with- out his looking for them. Subsequent events proved this to be correct for. as he glanced up from his paper for a second, he noticed that the back comb of the young lady was almost out, and that she was in danger of losing it. Instantly R. Asticot Jones felt an impulse and the next mo- ment he was reaching over in his most unobtru- sive manner and was replacing the comb. The young lady quickly put her hand to the back of her head, saw Jones, turned several shades pinker than she was and hurriedly whispered a few short sentences in the young man’s ear. Jones painfully realized that nearly every body in the car was looking and he heard someone say, “And he’s a married man, too.” At the station, as the people were getting off, Jones was stared at as if he were an escaped convict, and not only that, but the young man edged over to Jones’ side and asked to see him outside of the station. Jones started to explain but was told that no explanation would be re- quired until they met outside. Jones did not wait for an impulse, but sneaked out of the back door of the station and jumped into a taxicab, at the same time throwing the driver a bill and telling him to get away from the station in the shortest possible time. The people at the office are still wondering why Jones should drive to the office on such a fine morning. Mrs. Jones has never since made any reference to her husband’s theory, but some- times she smiles when there is apparently noth- ing to smile at. H. M. ’ll J All’s Well That Ends Well I On one of those delightfully drowsy days to- wards the middle of May, Philip Dexter, the most popular senior in Princeton college, sat in his room, busily studying his chemistry. Phil never knew what it meant it study hard until the previous month when he had proposed to Catherine Churchill, his room-mate’s pretty sis- ter. Her answer had been decidedly negative, on account of Dexter’s never having accomplished anything worth while, except upon the foot-ball field. Since then, although there were only three months more of college, he had studied day and night, in order to pass his exams with high rank and principally to please the captivating Miss Churchill. Phil’s father, a multimillionaire, idolized his only son and Mr. Dexter’s chief am- bition was fulfilled when his boy was elected, for two years, captain of the Princeton eleven. There- fore, the lad never had any aspirations for study- ing. Although Phil was very popular, he had an enemy in Allan Kirby, the chemistry profes- sor’s son. The two fellow's had been rivals ever since the time when they had struggled for the same position on the foot-ball team and Dexter had been victorious. Notwithstanding the fact that Kirby was one of the most brilliant stu- THE GOLDEN-ROD 9 dents in college, lie was greatly disliked. Unfor- tunately, he made no secret of his hatred for the popular foot-ball captain. When Dexter had surprised everyone by be- ginning to work hard, his room-mate, Richard Churchill, followed the good example, set by his friend and the social life at Princeton saw them no more, to the great delight of Kirby. II The weeks flew by swiftly. Dexter had takeu all his exams but chemistry, which was the hard- est of all. At last the much dreaded morniug dawned. Phil slept late and when he awoke Churchill was nowhere to be seen. Jumping up hurriedly, he glanced at his watch. “Why! I’ve only ten minutes in which to get to my exams. Dick must have gone.” Not seeing his own coat he snatched up one of Dick’s, which lay over the back of a chair, slipping into it as he ran across the campus. Just as he breathlessly reached the door of the chemistry room, Phil collided with Kirby, who seemed to be waiting for some one. Hastily apologizing, Dexter entered the room, which was already filled with students. Glancing around him, he looked for his room- mate and perceived Dick at the farther side of the room, busily searching for something in his pockets. At this moment, Professor Kirby entered the room with cat-like tread. Everyone became all attention, waiting for his first words. lie began, “The examinations must be written in ink. Those written in pencil will not be accepted.” Then he passed out the type-written list of ques- tions to each student. Upon receiving his, Dexter looked them through and through dazedly. At that instant all the chemistry, which he had studied so hard for the past few weeks, left his mind and to save himself Phil could not answer a single question. Involuntarily, he thrust his hand into his coat pocket. What was that? His fingers closed over an object which was hard and smooth. Not thinking what he did, Phil drew it forth. In his hand lay a long, octagonal pencil, the sides of which had been scraped bare and were covered with finely written chemistry formulae and sym- bols, the exact information which he needed. What could it mean ? How had he come by that pencil ? At that instant a heavy hand was laid upon Phil’s shoulder and the disagreeable voice of the Professor said, “Dexter, what are you doing with a pencil? The exam must be written in ink.” Phil started nervously and with a scarlet face he thrust the pencil back into his pocket, won- dering how he could account for its presence. “Nothing,” stammered the startled fellow. The Professor glanced at him in surprise. Then an incredulous expression passed over his face as he perceived the startled look in Dex- ter’s eyes. “Give me the pencil,” commanded the Professor. Hesitatingly, Phil handed it to him. After examining the pencil carefully, the Pro- fessor said in the hardest of tones, “I am great- ly astonished, Dexter, you may go to the dean.” “But the pencil does not belong to me,” re- plied Phil, and his voice sounded hoarse and un- natural. A sinister expression passed over the profes- sor’s face. “Tell that kiud of stories to the dean,” he answered. This last remark aroused the anger of the greatly puzzled lad. “Very well,” he answered. With his head held high in the air and a defiaut expression in his eyes, Dexter strode from the room, followed by the professor. When they reached the dean's office the pro- fessor told the story ending with, “He says that the pencil is not his.” The dean looked sorrowfully at Phil, who was one of his favorites and said, “My boy, I cannot believe that you would cheat. Surely there must be some mistake. What have you to say for yourself?” “All I can say,” Dexter haughtily replied, “is that the pencil is not mine.” As he was about to continue a terrible thought flashed through his mind. He was wearing Churchill’s coat, and when he had entered the room that morning his room-mate had been busily searching for some- thing, which he did not seem to find. Could it be possible? Churchill a cheat? Never. Then 10 THE GOLDEN-ROD the voice of the dean again came to his ears. “Have you nothing more to say for yourself? Are you sure that the pencil is not yours?” “No,” resolutely answered Phil,” I have no further explanation to make,” and to himself he added. “No one must ever know. I will never tell. Churchill is my best friend and he is her brother, even if he is a cheat.” “Very well, as you will not explain matters, you are expelled. I will notify your father im- mediately.” The voice of the dean trembled with sorrow, for he loved Philip Dexter and he could not believe him guilty of such an offence. Dexter slowly left the room. Ills first thoughts were of Catherine Churchill. What would she think of him ? She was lost to him forever, because he could never tell her that her brother was a cheat. These were the thoughts which filled his mind as several hours later the puzzled and misjudged foot-ball captain was on his way to meet an indignant father in New York. Ill Three years had passed by. One morning in June the large ocean liner, the Sea- Queen. glided out of her dock at New York. The decks were crowded with happy passen- gers, talking and laughing together. Apart from the rest and perfectly oblivious to every thing else, stood a young man, fondly looking into the eyes of a girl at his side. As they stood thus, a young fellow walked by. glanced at them incredulously, started, and finally walked back to where they were standing. Raising his hat he inquired, “Is this Mr. Philip Dexter?” Dexter for it was he, glanced up quickly, then bowed coldly as he recognized his old class-mate,Allan Kirby. Nothing daunted, Kirby continued, “I am very glad I have met you, Dexter, as I have something which I wish to say to you alone.” Greatly surprised, Phil looked down at the girl and as she nodded assent, the two men walked away together. “Of course you remember what happened to you three years ago and you also know how I have always hated you?” began Allan. “I think that all this is unnecessary. What interest can you have in the matter? I was expelled from Princeton for cheating, some- thing which I never did.” interrupted Phil. “No, I know that you didn’t. That’s just what I wish to explain, and I will, if you will promise not to harm me in any way,” very mys- teriously answered Kirby. Phil glanced at him in amazement. Then he replied. “You have my promise.” “Well then,” continued Kirby, “I put that pencil in your pocket.” “What?” gasped Dexter, taking a step to- wards him. “Yes,” answered Kirby. “I waited for you that day outside the chemistry-room. Don’t you remember how we collided in the corridor?” As Phil nodded, he continued, “As we did so, I slipped the pencil into your pocket, trusting to luck that you would be discovered with it during the exam and be expelled. Oil, by the way, I for- got, the night before the exams, when I was look- ing in my father’s desk for something I found the questions and answers. That was what prompted me to make the pencil.” Dexter’s face was white with rage. He took one step towards Kirby but Allan stopped him. ‘ ‘ Don’t forget your promise, ’ ’ he exclaimed. At this, Phil turned away and started to walk off. but Allen interrupted him in a mocking voice, “Say, Dexter, wasn’t there a girl in the case? I’ve always wondered what she had to say.” Dexter quickly turned and a happy smile spread over his face. “If it wasn’t for the fact that, that same girl and I are now on our honey- moon, I’d be tempted to break my promise, and throw you overboard.” With these words he left the astonished Kirby and walked back to where his wife was awaiting him. Arm and arm Mr. and Mrs. Dexter walked away. M. T. ’ll. THE GOLDEN-ROD Herr Muellers Christmas It was Christmas eve in the great city and a crisp, cold night. Ilerr Mueller turned from the street and climbed the stairs to his rooms. A fire glowed on the hearth of the small sitting-room which he entered, and its light flickered on the walls. It was a comfortably, though simply furnished room. In one corner stood a piano, on which lay a violin. On the walls hung pictures of famous musicians, and the bookshelves beside the fireplace were filled with a musician’s books. As the firelight fell on Herr Mueller himself, it showed a man past middle life with a strong yet gentle face, which tonight was sad. He sat down in front of the fire and. picking up his evening paper, read again the notice in it. Concert of the Symphony Orchestra to be held Christmas night Assisting Artist—Miss Elizabeth Mueller Elizabeth Mueller ! His little Elizabeth! The paper dropped from his hands as his mind went back over the years. Twenty-five years ago, no, could it be as long as that? Yes, twenty-five years ago, he and his violin had left Germany and his fame had spread throughout Germany, and come to America, the land of promise. Already he had come to win fame and experience in America. He had studied and worked hard, and the papers all over the country had talked of the famous violin virtuoso. Then he had met Elizabeth Bradford, daughter of a proud New England family. He had been entertained by Miss Bradford, Elizabeth’s aunt, with whom she lived, and had grown to know and love Elizabeth. For her he had studied and worked harder than ever. When he played, he had played for Elizabeth. Finally a rude awakening had come. Although Miss Bradford had entertained him as a famous violinist, to en- tertain him as a lover for her niece was quite an- other thing. Elizabeth Bradford, daughter of a proud New England family, to marry a for- eigner, never! But Elizabeth had been broken- hearted, and so Miss Bradford had reluctantly consented to the marriage. How happy he and Elizabeth had been to- gether. Then had come little Elizabeth. He smiled to himself as he recalled all her pretty baby ways. There never was another baby like his little Elizabeth! And then, when Elizabeth was still a mere baby, the mother had left them. The pain had been almost unbearable, but he had loved the baby the more, for he still had her. Soon the aunt had come and offered her home and care to the baby. She had wanted to bring the baby up as she had done tin; mother, but had said that the child should have no knowledge of its father, at least until her death. It was a cruel condition. lie had tried to believe that the child should stay with him. but he had thought of all the advantages the aunt could offer, and how few he had for his child. With her aunt she would have a home, so the baby had been taken away, and he had been left alone. The famous violinist had suddenly dropped out of the knowl- edge of the world, and the world had at first wondered and missed him. but soon forgotten. From time to time he had received short letters telling of Elizabeth’s health and of her progress in her studies. Then the letters had begun to tell of Elizabeth’s singing and of her beautiful voice. When, a few years ago, he had begun to see ar- ticles in the papers about the girl, who was win- ning fame abroad with her wonderful voice, his heart had swelled with hope and high ambition for his daughter. A short time before he had re- ceived word of the death of her aunt. Now Elizabeth had come home, and tomorrow she was to begin her career in this great city of America where he had begun his. Why, tomorrow was her birthday, and she was. yes, twenty years old. He wondered if she knew about her father. The bell down stairs rang noisily. Herr Muel- ler started and awoke from his re very. Proba- bly some caller had come to see the landlady. He leaned forward and threw another stick on the fire. A gentle knock sounded at the door. He rose and opened it. and there on the threshold stood a girl. Another Elizabeth Bradford she seemed as she stood there, but eagerly she cried, “Father!” and his voice broke as he answered, “My daughter.” • • • 12 THE GOLDEN-ROD Christmas night had come. The great concert hall was crowded, and a burst of applause broke forth as a girl stepped out on the stage, then all was quiet. The pianist struck a few soft chords, and then as the clear, sweet voice of the singer rang out in the words of a Christmas song, “Peace on earth, good will toward men,” the joy of the Christmas angels filled the heart of one gray haired man, who sat gazing at the singer with eyes dimmed with tears. II. M. P. ’ll. That Pup Jack Standish looked gravely at the puppy. “Now look here, Bill,” he said, “You’re a mighty cunning little tyke, but you’re not going to chew up my boot. It'll ruin your digestion, and I might possibly need my foot-wear again. A dog with your pedigree ought to have too much pride to do anything so foolish. Out you go!” He picked up the wriggling puppy and thrust him unceremoniously through the door. “Here, Hiram,” he called to the gardener,” keep an eye on this dog, will you? He’s alto- gether too valuable to lose, but I can’t stand him in the house. He’s a blamed nuisance.” Turning back to the library, he settled himself comfortably in the leather arm-chair. “Here’s hoping I’ll have a bit of time now to finish this story and my pipe,” he said, and soon became absorbed in his book. The story held his attention for only a short time. It seemed a shame to waste such a beauti- ful afternoon indoors. Suddenly he thought of Bill. “Guess I’ll go and get my dog,” he thought, “Hope Hiram’s taking good care of him. I’d hate to lose that pup.” With this he hurried out of the room. However, upon reaching the lawn, no puppy was in sight. Hiram was grubbing away in the flower-bed, and, when Jack anxiously inquired for the canine, he looked up, much surprised. “ Wall, Mr. Jack, yew don’t say thet that tliar dorg’s a-missin’? I took a lot o’ pains to fix him up in the carriage-house. Have yew looked tliar?” Jack hurried to the spot, but no puppy ap- peared. He was worried, for it was a very easy matter for that wriggling mite to lose itself. He was rather angry that Hiram should have al- lowed the dog to escape. “I’ll search the grounds, and if I can’t find him. I’ll put an ad in the paper immediately,” he said. Starting out, he covered every inch of the ex- tensive grounds, becoming more vexed at each step. Of course the puppy was too young to know him for its master. And he would have been such a valuable bird-dog. Anyone could see that. By this time, he had reached the low stone- wall which formed a boundary between his estate and the one adjoining it. Looking over, Jack was astonished to see a girl coming from the house. “Huh! here’s a surprise,” he said. “I thought the house was to be vacant this season. That must be Miss Arden, though. Wonder if she’s seen anything of my dog. I’ll wait a sec- ond and ask her.” The girl came toward the great oak-tree, evi- dently bent upon spending a quiet afternoon in reading or sewing in the pleasant shade. She carried a cushion, a book and something small and black. Jack looked at the latter object curi- ously, then gave a sigh of relief. It was Bill. What a lot of trouble he was saved! He vaulted over the wall, walked toward the girl and raised his cap. “I beg pardon, but isn’t this Miss Arden? I’m your neighbor, John Standish, and I’ve just been hunting for that pup. I’m glad you’ve found him. Saves me a great deal of trouble.” The girl looked at him in a surprised man- ner, then smiled. She was a mighty pretty girl, Jack thought. Self-possessed, too. Her chin showed that, though her mouth was soft and sweet and red. and her eyes were wonderful, so big and dark. “Your puppy, Mr. Standish? Oh! no, I’m THE GOLDEN-ROD 13 afraid I’ll have to disappoint you. This is my dog. He’s a beauty, isn’t he? Such a cunning little thing, though he’s very mischievous. I’m so sorry that you’ve last your dog.” Jack felt puzzled. That was most certainly his dog. Why under the sun did the girl want to claim it? Then he became a trifle indignant The idea of her claiming his dog in this cool fashion. “But, Miss Arden, there is some mistake. That is surely my dog.” he said stiffly. The girl’s chin went up, and she looked at Jack with heightened color. “Mr. Standish, you are hardly doing a gentlemanly thing. You claim this dog, inferring that I am not telling the truth. The dog is. without question, mine. I shall have to bid you good-afternoon.” Then, still carrying the innocent cause of the dispute, she walked indignantly away. Scowling. Jack walked back to the house. He too, was angry. ‘ ‘ What do you suppose possessed that girl to act like that?” he muttered. “It’s incomprehensible! She appeared to be such a nice girl, and she certainly is pretty. And she claims my dog. I can’t very well enforce my claim—at least, 1 don’t want to. If she were only a man. Lord! these women. What made her do it?” � The next day Jack arose with a fixed purpose in his mind. He had been extremely rude. That girl would never have claimed Bill without some good reason, and, whatever it was, he was ready to accept it. Now he was going to Miss Arden to o “Jack,” said my father out of a temporary silence at the dinner table,” Jack, do have a piece of pie!” It was Sunday and as bleak and desolate a day as ever I remember. Out of doors the wind howled and shrieked and hurled the falling leaves hither and thither, a desolate accompaniment to the falling rain. Within doors, my father, Jack, make an apology for his rudeness, and to offer her the dog. if only she would forgive him and take it. He went to tin library, but what a sight met his eyes! Magazines were chewed and tattered, the inkstand was overturned, the cushions were in ribbons, and in one corner, a silky black bundle of mischief was worrying Jack’s derby. Jack snatched up the pup. “You little nuis- ance. you ought to have your neck wrung! You blamed little trouble-maker? Now you’re going to be given away. You’re a disgrace, but I’m not going to let Miss Arden think I’m such a cad.” He tucked the squirming handle under his arm and hurried toward his neighbor’s home. As he mounted the steps, he saw Miss Arden sitting at the farther end of the piazza. He hur- ried toward her. and was about to speak, when something she held attracted his attention. He looked at it, stupified, and gasped, for the “some- thing” was Bill. No, not Bill, for he himself was holding that little wretch. But this was certain- ly Bill’s double. This, then, was the explanation of the trouble. Jack began to laugh—laughed till the tears ran down his cheeks. Miss Arden looked up startled, then saw Bill, the First, and she, too. went into a helpless gale of mirth. When they had both ceased laughing from utter weakness, Jack held out his hand. “I’m sorry to have been such an idiot,” he said, “Won’t you forgive me? I think we can be the best of friends now.” And Miss Arden seemed to think it highly probable. D. D. ’ll. my oldest brother, Esther and Carrie, the twins, Nan, and last, but not least I myself, were gathered around the dining room table on the aforesaid Sabbath day, in the month of Decem- ber, 19—. Well, never mind, I never could re- member dates. “Jack,” my father repeated, “some pie?” But Jack was not favorably disposed toward Just Pie 14 THE GOLDEN-ROD pie after his hearty dinner. lie glanced longing- ly at its apple dumpling sides and hesitated. But discretion won the victory and Jack replied, “No, thank you, Father.’’—as did the rest of the family, with the exception of myself. I decided to have mine then and there. “Some pie, Lucile?” A terrible crash of thunder prevented my reply and brought us all almost instantaneously to our feet. In the general alarm that followed all thoughts of pie were forgotten. Father turned the lights on all over the house. Bright fires glowed, sparkled and hissed cheerily to us from the fireplaces. Father sang to us in his deep bass voice to Nan’s accompaniment on the piano. Jack played chess with the twins, and I curled up on the rug before the fire-place with “Alice in Wonderland.” “Alice in Wonderland,” for once did not in- terest me. The Cheshire Cat seemed to glare at me from within the printed pages. I wanted pie! Just pie! and pie I would have. I glanced around me but everyone seemed occu- pied with his own affairs. Father still sang on. Jack and the twins quarreled and laughed fitful- ly over the chess-board, Nan’s white fingers glid- ed daintily over the keys of the piano,—I smiled in triumph. The White Queen seemed to nod en- couragingly from within the printed pages. The Cheshire Cat continued to glare. I left the room noisily, knocking over Jack’s chess-board as I passed. Once out of the room, however, I stole cautiously toward the pantry. Ah, there it was! Its apple dumpling sides tempting and delicious. Neatly, and with a dex- terity of which I blush to write, I transferred that pic from the pantry shelf to a more sensible and safer hiding place behind the flour barrel. There! that done I could return to my story. As I left the pantry I encountered Jack coming in. “I was looking for the corn popper,” he ex- plained, rather discomfited. I handed it to him in silence and left him, to return to my story. The printed page continued to dance before my eyes. The Cheshire Cat continued to glare. Jack had returned with the popper; his eyes avoided mine in passing. A terrible suspicion entered my mind. I glanced around for Nan; she had vanished! I hadn’t seen her leave the room. What if she had—? I sprang up hastily and quitted the room, again knocking over that unfortunate chess- board. “What are you trying to do, Lucile ?” said Nan’s voice behind me, “Break up housekeep- ing?” 1 turned to see the dimples of mischief darting to and fro in her cheeks. Her brown eyes were alight with merriment. She had come from the direction of the pantry. What if she had—? I hastened on toward the pantry only to meet Father coming out. He smiled dryly as he passed by. Father loved, above all things, a good joke. 11 is humorous expression filled me with an anxi- ous foreboding. I walked toward the pantry to see if my prize had been disturbed, but as the in- exorable Fates would have it, Father turned and said, “Come with me child, and read some of your story to me.” And could I refuse? At about ten o’clock we all met in the pantry. “For Goodness’ sakes, children, what are you rummaging for in that flour barrel?” Father was saying, as I came in, a trifle testily to the twins who seemed to have some weighty secret on their minds. “Nan, tell me what it is you are looking for.” Father’s patience was fast disap- pearing. “Jack, I am surprised at you; come from be- neath that ice chest at once. Lucile! what are you doing behind the flour barrel?” All this from Father who was gazing into an empty cof- fee box with a mystified expression on his face. Silently we wended our way upstairs; but to this day when apple pie is mentioned in our family, we avoid each others eyes and murmur sadly to ourselves, “Who took that pie?” A. D. ’12. THE GOLDEN-ROD 15 Athletic Notes The football season for 1010 began at the High School, Sept. 12, when about thirty reported for practice under the guidance of Captain Harold Hill and Edward Burns. The prospects for a good team were the brightest in years. In Captain Hill the team has an excellent football player and an able leader, and with the support of the stu- dent body his team was expected to make a good showing. The following men from last year’s team were available, Captain Hill, Manning, Arthur. Johnson, Harmon, Blackmur, Rice and IT. Prout. The schedule as arranged by Manager Blackmur was a good one and it was hoped that the team would make an enviable record. The schedule as played was as follows: Sept. 27, Cambridge Latin at Quincy. Sept. JO, Weymouth High at Quincy. Oct. 4. Holbrook High at Quincy. Oct. 7, Abington High at Quincy. Oct. 14, Brockton High at Brockton. Oct. 22, Dedham High at Dedham. Oct. 25, South Boston High at Quincy. Oct. 27, Boston College High at Quincy. Nov. 1, Ilvde Park'High at Quincy. Nov. 8, East Boston High at Quincy. Nov. 11, Ilingham High at Quincy. Nov. 19, Dorchester High at Dorchester. The games as played are as follows: SEPTEMBER 27. 1910. The first game of the season was played with Cambridge Latin. Although the Cambridge team outweighed the Quincy eleven they were finally defeated by a score of 6-0. The playing of the whole Quincy eleven was noteworthy. SEPTEMBER JO, 1910. The second game of the season proved to be a more decisive victory for Quincy than the first. Weymouth High was the loser by a score of 4J-0. The game proved fatal to Trainer, the Weymouth captain, who was knocked unconscious during the game. OCTOBER 4. 1910. The third game also resulted in a victory for Quincy. This time Holbrook High was the loser by a score of J2-0. Mostly second team men played for Quincy. OCTOBER 7. 1910. The fourth straight victory for Quincy was won over Abington. the score being 37-0. The feature play of this game was made by Captain Hill when he received the ball on the kick off and ran the length of the field for a touchdown. 16 THE GOLDEN-ROD OCTOBER 14. 1910. The team played its first game away from home when it journeyed to Brockton and was defeated by the score of 9-0. Quincy was handicapped by an injury to'Captain Hill early in the game. The playing of Arthur. II. Chapman and Ilill was good. OCTOBER 22, 1910. The team took its second trip away from home going to Dedham and defeating that team by a score of 5-0. The feature was a run for a touch- down by Captain Ilill. OCTOBER 25. 1910. The seventh game of the season with South Boston High resulted in a splendid victory for Quincy by a score of 6-0. The pleasing part of the game was the return of .Manning to the team, after an enforced lay off. His run for thirty yards gave Quincy its only touchdown and en- abled it to win the game. OCTOBER 27, 1910. The team lost its second game of the season when it was defeated by Boston College High 5-0. The game was hard fought and much credit is due the Quincy team for the manner in which it held the heavy college team. NOVEMBER 1, 1910, The ninth game of the season with Hyde Park High resulted in a tie score 0-0, the game being called on account of darkness in the third period. The star men for Quincy were Ilill and Manning each making several long gains. NOVEMBER 8, 1910. Quincy annexed its seventh victory when East Boston High was defeated by a score of 21-0. The victory was largely due to the work of Hill, White, Manning and II. Chapman. NOVEMBER 11, 1910. The eleventh game of the season resulted in the same way as seven others have, namely in a vic- tory for Quincy, Ilingham High being defeated by a score of 13-0. The features were a touch- down by Pfaft’man and a goal from the field by II. Chapman. NOVEMBER 19, 1910. Quincy vs. Dorchester at Dorchester. During the week before this game the Quincy team was helped materially in the coaching de- partment by having Kersberg, an all American guard of two years ago, come out. He gave the team a good deal of much-needed coaching and on the day before the game, gave the team a lec- ture. On the day of the game the team went to Dorchester and was followed by the largest cheer- ing squad of students ever accompanying a Quin- cy team, nearly three hundred in number. The game was played under very favorable condi- tions, and for the first time in the school’s history Captain Hill’s team came home with a victory by the score of 11-0. The victory was well earned, as every member of the team played in top notch form, there being no individual stars. This vic- tory ended one of the most successful football seasons Quincy High ever had. The team has won 9, lost 2. and tied 1. Much credit is due Captain Ilill for this success, as he has played a star game all the season and has aided materially in coaching the team. The other players, Man- ning, II. Prout, II. Chapman, Blackmur. Harmon, Rice, Arthur, Johnson, Tirrell, Smith, Holmes, Pfaffman, Church, White, Edwards, W. Cran- shaw, R. Cranshaw and Anderson, have had much to do with the success of the team, and it is hoped that they all will be given a rousing foot- ball reception. Three cheers and a tiger for every member of Captain Hill’s championship team. • � Captains and Managers for teams of 1910: Football—Captain—II. Hill. Manager—P. Blackmur. Basket Ball—Captain W. Manning. Mana- ger—L. Arthur. Base Ball—Captain M. Chapman. Manager— W. Manning. THE GOLDEN-ROD 17 Athletic Comments May all the football teams at Quincy High be like Hill’s. The games this year have been well attended and a great deal of school spirit has been shown, especially by the girls of the school. Captain Hill’s work this year entitles him to a place among the best schoolboy half-backs in greater Boston. Some strong teams were played, among them being Hyde Park. Dedham, Brockton, Boston College High and Dorchester. Blackmur and H. Chapman have held down the end positions with much credit. The team developed a good quarter-back in Larkin, who should do well another year. The team has been greatly handicapped in not having a second team to scrimmage with. Manning has shown that he can play at both end and quarter-back with skill. Harmon, considering his weight, has played a strong game at full-back. The coaching of Edward Burns, at the begin- ning of the season, put the team where it was able to hold its own with any of the teams of greater Boston. One of the hardest positions on the team, center, was very efficiently played all through the season by Tirrell. Exit, Football, enter Basketball. MILLARD CHAPMAN, Athletic Editor, 1911. I think I’ll study Caesar to occupy my time, Oh ! How I’d like to “seize her”—the one I now call mine. This great man now I’ll study, and how he con- quered Gaul, But much rather would I now be out with her upon the mall. Oh! What’s the use of Caesar; what care I what he said? It’s tiresome learning of a man who years ago was dead. I'll shut him up within my desk; a hundred years he’ll stay, And 1 11 dream of my bliss when I walk home with — today. Elton F. Chase, 1913. Locals Welcome to our new teachers. Everybody in school was happy on Monday, Nov. 21, 1910. after Saturday the 19th. We now have a finished double quartet which is very successful under the direction of Miss Per- kins. The first period on Monday is found very use- ful for studying except when it is used for a lec- ture. “Babe” Marceau. our crack miler is making a name for himself at Dartmouth. Mr. Hart, our worthy janitor is looking as healthy as ever. The Athletic Committee has been dissolved as its power has been taken up by the school com- mittee. We were all sorry to hear of the departure of Miss Chadbourue, Mr. Blazo and Mr. Wiess. 18 THE GOLDEN-ROD We all congratulate Harold Gore “ ’08” on the great showing he has made with the Massachu- setts Aggies, this fall and know he will continue it next fall. The class of 1910 is poorly represented here this year, there being only two girls and one boy. The football team showed its mettle at Dorches- ter and Captain Hill should be heartily congratu- lated. Herbert .Johnson ’12 was elected captain of next year’s football team on Tuesday, Dec. 6, 1910. Since hairdressing is not allowed in the girls’ basement, one of the post-graduates has equipped her desk with a mirror. “Who’s next?” We sincerely hope that something will be done to relieve the financial strain on athletics. Harry Kersburg, the ex-IIarvard and all America guard, Gardner, Beattie. Reynolds and Kennard of the Harvard freshman team, who coached our team two days during the week of the Dorchester game, deserve a large part of the credit for our victory. The present basket-ball schedule is the best seen at the school in years, and we look for a very successful year under the direction of Captain “Bill” Manning. Mr. Holbrook, as a means of helping the stu- dents who intend to take up teaching as a voca- tion, gives each Wednesday up for a lesson taught by one of the students. Three have taken the degree already. At the Senior Class meeting held recently, the following committees were appointed: Nominating Committee—Cora Barnicoat, (chairman) Donald Welch, Agnes Coughlan, Mildred Bonney, Morris Hooper. Reception Committee—Daisy Brooks, Olive Pay, Margaret Tubman, Winthrop Safford, John Pfaffmann. Class Party—Marion Bolster, Elizabeth Say- ward. Harold Chapman, Robert Cranshaw. Motto—Lucy Coolidge, Helen Far well, Ed- ward Park. The Class of 1913 elected the following officers: President—Richard Crane. Vice President—Marion Rand. Secretary—Edna Sanborn. Treasurer—Ralph Prout. Pin Committee—Joseph Betts, Ethel Clifford, Ethel Hatfield. Athletic Committee—Roswell Bill. Motto Committee—Beatrice Costello, Milli- cent Chapman, Elsie Burrell. Song Committee—Julia Holteen, Osborne Rogers. Nominating Committee—Elton Chase, Francis Fov, Henry Safford, Roland Estey, Carl Smith, Richard Ash. THE GOLDEN-ROD 19 The Fresh and The Soph A Preshy, as green As ever was seen. Approached the High School door, And into his eyes. Came a glad surprise At the sight of a Sophomore. “Good luck,” quoth he, “Most surely to me The fates send faster and faster For who can doubt That I am about To meet the great Head Master?” With heart all abeat, Yet scorning retreat, lie passed through the sacred door, And even tho’ death Seemed stealing his breath, Addressed he the Sophomore. “The Head Master, sir. You are, I infer, Of this dispenser of lore I’m here, as you see, To get a high E.” Said the Fresh to the Sophomore. With rage quite insane The Soph shook a cane And thumped it half through the floor “The Head Master, sir? You impudent cur! Why, I am a Sophomore!” (Adapted.) We hope to have a free lunch soon. Many pupils took quite a fancy to Mr. Robin- son’s visitors at recess recently. We expect a close match in bad odors between the cooking and chemical departments soon. History Teacher—“How did William I die?” 1914—“His heart stopped beating.” F. Harmon seems to be very efficient in the declension of I-go. Geography Teacher “(Jive me an example of raw material.” S. Cl-fl-n—‘ ‘ Why-er-er-poultry. ’ ’ Mr. II-br-k—“Give me a example of mytholo- gy.” 1914—“George Washington never told a lie.” II. Ch-p-n enjoys having his favorite flower, the lily, around when he is playing football. Miss Birge—“ What is the German cognate for apple-wine.” 1914—“Cider.” Worcester has given the Sophomore class a re- markable boost in the weight line by the addition of C. Sm-th. Mr. II-lbr-k—“ Well, why don’t you go on and translate.” 1914—“I don’t know what love means.” (Ask E. Rhodes, M. S-b-n, H. H-ll, C. Sm-th.) 20 THE GOLDEN-ROD II. II. 'II has got the rage and has got it as bad as any of them now. Mr. Roache—“What class are you in?” 1914—“Why I’ve been here four days.” Teacher after being hit by a spit ball—“I’m not going to punish you, for I know that if you had been aiming at me I wouldn’t have been hit.” Mr. Ro-che—‘ ‘ Who succeeded James II?” 1911—“James I.” William Manning is always in Wollaston. I wonder why ? History Teacher—“Who was Prince Arthur?” M iss S-b-g—‘ Er-r-r—somebody’s son. ’ ’ The weather has not been at all cold but S. W-i-te has had his storm windows on for some- time. Everybody enjoys certain writers and E. Rh-des Ihinks that Churchill is just about right. Heard in gym. before the Holbrook game— “Well I suppose they got this game because the kids could come for half-fare.” M. Chap-n is seriously considering a course at Woodward. Three cheers for II. Sut-m-ster the gallant and brave boy scout. It would have been very acceptable to P-r-k-s Tl. if a special deliberative hour had been fixed in the program, so that he might think over his math. It would put anyone to sleep to hear Wh-te sing after the Dorchester game. Fraser struck something hard when he struck Herb’s back. Murphy Tl discovered a new fuming com- pound the other day. It fumed all over his desk. A coming scientist, this Murphy. The Senior Dramatics will be helped very much this year, we hope, by such experienced actors as Manning and the Chapmans. c(?iUT tr rto ifje. (aws of USA ' in X Vo . ff only tyi 1910 'I t 5o|b| lerr7enT -ft The H S % Rule V THE GOLDEN-ROD 21 This year we are ambitious to extend our ex- changes to more distant states as well as to our near neighbors and already we have received The Aurora, Nome, Alaska, and The Smith Academy Record. All exchanges may be seen in Room 25 by the pupils from the editor. “The Breeze,” Cushing. An altogether good paper but why do you devote all the paper to graduates? How about the present students? “Distaff,” Girl’s High School, Boston. Your exchange heading might be improved. The Alumni column is excellent. “Enterprise,” we think the color of your cover is rather characterless. The article on Education in Mexico is interesting. “Gazette,” Lynn Classical High School. It seems to be a fast spreading desire,—this chang- ing of cover designs and colors but not many of you are bettering the covers. We say the same to the “Volunteer,” Concord, Mass. “High School Beacon,” Chelsea. Your ath- letics and exchange headings are all right. Why do you put an advertisement on the second page, next to the stories. One looks at the advertise- ment first. “The Imp,” Brighton. Try to fill up your ad- vertising pages—it pays well. After looking over some of our brilliantly colored exchanges,—the black and white designs of the “Oracle,” Manchester and “The Jabber- wack,” Boston are a great relief. “Premier,” Fall River, you have a good col- lection of school yells. “The Students’ Review,” Northampton. Where are your stories in the October issue? We were glad to receive “School Life” from Melrose. Miss Chadbourne is advisory editor of the paper. Besides the exchanges mentioned we acknowl- edge also: “The Review,” Lowell High School; “The Clarion”: ' The Gleaner,” Pawtucket High School; “The Blue Owl”; “The Alpha,” New Bedford; “The Aegis,” Beverly; “The Register,” Boston Latin; “Recorder,” Spring- field. Mass.; “Radiator”; “The Oracle,” Mal- den; “The Mirror”; “The Powder Horn.” Professor—“What are the children of the Czar called?” Pupil—‘ ‘ Czardines. ” Mammy—“Dai, you good-for-nothing niggar, you’ve went and forgetted dat lard.” Rastus—“Lor’ a massy, dat lard was just so greasy, it done slipped ma mind.” Teacher—“What was the first talking machine made from?” Bright Boy—“From a rib.” 22 THE GOLDEN-ROD Uncle Emery—“ Waiter, why do you call this oyster soup? I can't find a single oyster in it.” Waiter—“That’s all right sir we have cottage pudding too but we don’t give away any houses.” Mistress—“Did the fisherman who stopped here this morning have frog’s legs. Norah?” Norah—“I don’t know. mum. He wore long pants.” Teacher—“When did the revival of learning begin?” Pupil—“Just before the exams.” “ Well, well,” said the absent-minded profes- sor in the bath-tub, “now I’ve forgotten what I got in here for.” A little boy was carrying two cats down the street when he was met by a man who asked the names of his pets. “Tom and Jerry,” replied the boy. “Why don’t you call them Cook and Peary?” suggested the man. “Oh,” said the boy, “these ain’t no pole cats.” An American tourist on the summit of Vesu- vius was appalled at the grandeur of the sight. “Great Snakes!” he exclaimed, “it reminds me of Iladcs!” “Gad, how you Americans do travel!” replied an English friend who stood near by. “Think you not,” said the Freshman to maiden fair “My moustache is becoming?” The maiden answered as his eyes she met, “It may becoming but it’s not here yet.” The Pored of Education—the pupils. ‘ ‘ Woman was made out of a man’s rib, and therefore man is not all there.” Nervous Youth (to jeweler)—“Um-er-a-liave -er-ahem-aah-will-all— ’ ’ Jeweler—“Boy, bring me the tray of engage- ment rings.” If men are the salt of the earth women are un- doubtedly the sugar. Salt is a necessity, sugar a luxury. Vicious men are saltpetre; stern men, rock salt; and the nice men table salt. Old maids are brown sugar; good matrons, loaf sugar; and pretty girls pulverized sugar. Pass the pulver- ized sugar PLEASE. Young Wed—“I want accommodations for myself and wife.” Hotel Clerk—“Suite?” Young Wed—“You just bet she is!” Minister—“Deacon Jones, will you lead us in prayer?” The deacon snores loudly. Minister (again)—“Deacon Jones will you lead us in prayer?” Deacon (waking suddenly)—“It ain’t my lead; I dealt.” We pass along this pathetic little appeal from another exchange: Our chief editor reminds us That our job’s to make you roar; So laugh to show to us your kindness. Though you’ve heard these jokes before. J J Alumni Notes Bessie Chisholm ’07 was married to Thomas Skinner Nov. 3, Patterson, New York. Harold Gore ’08 has been elected class treas- urer at Amherst Agricultural College. Elizabeth Powers ’08 is attending Bridgewater Normal. Harriet Waldron ’08 has charge of the Prim- ary grades in North Andover, Mass. THE GOLDEN-ROD 23 Roberta Smith ’08 has a position as teacher in Braintree. Helena McCormick, Doris Smith, Ada Wil- liams. Ellen Shyne and Catherine Driscoll of ’09 are in their second year at Bridgewater Normal. Muriel Badger '09 has entered Vassar College. Norman Cook ’09 has begun his first year at Harvard University. The following is as complete a list as can be ob- tained of those of 1910 who are continuing their studies:— Gladys Bain, Dana Hall, Wellesley. Elizabeth Beattie, Thayer Academy. Andrew Bugler, Tufts College. Margaret Burke, Bryant and Strattons. J. Stanley Churchill, Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Mary Cleveland. Boston University. Theodore H. Corey, Colgate University, Hamil- ton, N. Y. Ruth Danielson, Bridgewater Normal. Richard Favorite, Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Eileen Fay, Burdett College. Bertha Given, Wellesley College. Alfred Hanson, Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Noah Hardy, Thayer Academy. Anna Heaney, Woodward Institute. Marion Hicks, Bridgewater Normal. Gladys Hunt, Normal Art School, Boston. Gordon Jameson, Massachusetts Institute of Technolog}'. Annie Kelly, Burdett College. Charles Kendall, Worcester Polytechnical School. Annie Larkin, Bridgewater Normal. Harry Levowich, Boston University Law School. Enor Lundin, Colgate University. Lillian Mead. Dana Hall, Wellesley. Marion Moffatt, Miss Pierce’s Shorthand School. William Murphy. Bryant and Strattons. William Northrop, Normal Art School, Bos- ton. Clara Pearce, Bridgewater Normal. Mildred Reinhalter, Bridgewater Normal. Forrest Royal. Annapolis Naval Preparatory. Charles Say ward, Bryant and Strattons. Eva Scarorough, Bridgewater Normal. Reginald Sprague, Norwich Uni rsity, Ver- mont. Thomas Veale, Tufts College. Roy Sidelinger, Anna Buckley and Winifred Cole are post graduates. Sarah Hale has entered City Hospital as assis- tant nurse. 24 THE GOLDEN-ROD IN MEMORIAM. Catherine Cremins ’09. Marion Fitzgerald ’09. Henry Cashman Tl. Elizabeth Dorley T2. • 0 ■ --------------------------------- Compliments of CHARLES C. HEARN T«I. Quincy 466 3 CHAPLIzS r. PETTENGILL Jeweler and Optician 1391 Hancock Street QUINCY Everything in STATIONERY --A T - CHAPIN’S 1395 Hancock Street Quincy E VER YTHINGIN the FLORA L LINE FOR GRADUATION You will find at the CITY FLOWER STORE 1361 HANCOCK STREET STANLEY S. BATES RUSSELL T. BATES BATES BROS. QUARRY OWNERS AND OPERATORS Old Colony, Gilbreth, Golbrook, Spilsted Quarries, (United) Producers of the Most Beautiful and Durable Granite the World has ever known. J«THE PERFECT BHILDI G ST02VE | Office and Sample Hoorn : 23-31 Savillk Street Oi� i . station QUINCY, MASS. Quarries at Weymouth Conjcclionc iij and CL (f team C . A . CP A P P 1052 Hancock Street - - Quincy, Mass. 1141 COLUMBUS AVE ROXBURY 1381 HANCOCK. ST. QUINCY 1886 The Quincy Daily Ledger 1911 altr ©nine Daily Oldest, Largest and Best Paper in the City of Quincy and Norfolk County GEORGE W. PRESCOTT PUBLISHING CO., Inc. J Many of the graduates of former years love to continue their literary work and have be- come greatly interested in having their items appear in the Ledger.............................. “ OLD IN EXPERIENCE, NEW IN EQUIPMENT, MEANS MUCH IN THE PRINTING BUSINESS.”............ Experience, is necessary in Fit liny Glasses (l)illi0GQS, 0ptiei0R has been testing the Eyesight amt furnishing Glasses in Quincy for IS years. 1473 HANCOCK STREET D. ]■:. WADS WORT M 6' CO. 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ZPr niors 1424 Hancock Street - - Quincy (Compliments of OSCAR A. MINOT R W SSmmsaBOm A- 337 Uciupovt Aucmic, ‘cHHoHastou b. f). NeRBee Wishes to thank the Class of 91 J Quincy jffiyh School for the honor of beiny chosen -4 |lliptograjiher 41- jffc will yive the usual reduced rates to all pupils and teachers of the School STUDIO 1507 Hancock Street QUINCY, MASS. Music Hall Block Telephone Connection .««iiias nane ruciic Lioiai, Quincy, Mass. . i££fr SWFfct H-- j ■ V- .■ :'-t' -• ' v- ‘ ■';% r - • - ti- . ,;. ;•« • ■ -:v r . vr •' , i-v-