Quincy High School - Goldenrod Yearbook (Quincy, MA)

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 riass. Ibe (3ol6eitg1Ro Volume XXIV. December, 1914 No. 1. W c olbeti=EotJ Published seven times during the school year by the PUPILS OF Q. H. S. Address The Golden-Rod Quincy High School, Quincy, Mass. EDITORIAL STAFF EDITOR-IN-CHIEF WILLIAM MacMAHON LITERARY EDITOR......HA EI. LIVINGSTON NEWS EDITOR.............. RTHl R BOWEN ART EDITOR......................GUSTAF VonCOLLN ALUMNI AND EXCHANGE EDITOR LOUISE CHURCHILL JOKE EDITOR.......... REGINALD II. GAY ATHLETIC EDITOR..............ROBERT E. FOY BUSINESS MANAGER WILLARD CROCKER ASSISTANT BUSINESS MANAGER HOWARD BOWEN For Sale at Quincy High School Advertising Rates per Seven Issues $3.00 - - - Card Space $5.00 ... Double Card Space $20 00 ... Per Page Half Rates for Three Insertions EDITORIALS. This year the Golden-Rod as a monthly magazine intends to place special emphasis on the school-news column. This column will contain reports from the High School clubs and all articles of interest connected with school activities. We need the help of every pupil to make the new department a complete success. All contributions in this line will be gladly received by the staff. On account of the larger number of edi- tions of the Golden-Rod, it has been decided to make the size and price of the paper smaller. This year, the price of the magazine will be ten cents a single copy or sixty cents for a year’s subscription. Cooperation is the key to success. Subscribe now! In obtaining Professor Crosby’s services for an entertainment, the Debating Society has started a good movement. Mr. Crosby, whose official title is Professor of English and Public Speaking, is director-coach of the “Sock and Buskin,” the dramatic society at Brown University. He is considered one of the best dramatic readers in this section of the country, making his specialty the modern drama rather than Shakespearian plays. The big event of the year at Churchill House, Providence, has been, for the last few winters, Professor Crosby’s readings given under the auspices of the Providence Women’s Clubs. His last appearance in this city was two years ago when he gave a reading of “The Rivals” before the Quincy Teachers’ Association. It will be a treat to hear a reader so highly recommended and, at the same time, benefit the High School Athletic Association. 1'he mass meetings in the hall have given school spirit in Quincy High a decided boost. As was expected, these meetings brought out a large number to the home games. The unexpected, however, happened at Milton. Quincy’s supporters were almost double the numlx r of Milton’s, even though the game was played on the latter’s home grounds. The singing and cheering at that interesting game will make it one of the famous battles in the history of our school. In visiting the different stores of our city the Golden-Rod staff was particularly struck by the lack of confidence in the ability of our advertising department as a promoter of business. Many merchants seemed to con- sider such advertising as a very unprofitable piece of work. This gives us another way to show our school spirit. Patronize our advertisers in preference to non-advertisers and mention the Golden-Rod when doing so. It seems strange that such a beneficial and entertaining club as our Debating Society should still have a few vacancies in its ranks. Although its numbers are limited to thirty

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PRACTICE AT THE OVAL. A DIFFICULT QUESTION. QUINCY 9—ARLINGTON 0. Q. H. S. CHEERING SECTION.

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2 1 b e Golden-Roa members, the juniors and seniors do not seem to have fully grasped the fact that there is still a chance for a few more to be admitted. When one visits the different football fields on which our team has played, the fact is soon realized that Quincy has a better field than ordinary schools for a better team than more than ordinary schools can boast. The Golden-Rod staff has started a cam- paign for a large circulation and is trying to induce all graduates of the High School to take subscriptions. Besides the present school activities our Alumni Notes should be of interest to such subscribers. All help in obtaining subscriptions will be gratefully welcomed by us. THE TERMINATION OF A GRAVE PLUNDERER. (After Edgar Allan Poe) It was a cold day in October with the black clouds hovering oppressively low over the landscape and casting a grim, ghastly appearance over everything, that, mounted on a small black mare, I rode out to meditate upon the many misfortunes that had entered my life. It suddenly occurred to me that in the immediate vicinity in which I was rid- ing a person once my friend spent his lonely career in retirement. He, Aaron Moore, had once been a medical student but now spent his entire time as he thought best, which was in his laboratory, earnestly endeavoring to create a new form of life that would clear up the aged mystery of the missing link. As far as I knew his attempts had met with repeated failure. In the early days of his life he had had a set-back which probably had shattered all his ambitions in the medical profession. He had been caught in the act of grave robbing, purely for medical purposes of course, and in punishment of his crime had spent many days in a cold prison cell. It is no wonder that he shrank from the society of mankind. I decided, as I mused on his pitiful condi- tion, to make a short visit to him that after- noon and do what was in my power to cheer this doleful Aaron Moore. Presently I came within sight of the dwelling, a mansion of cold damp-looking stone with ivy growing here and there. The windows were low and narrow, creating the impression of eyes peering out through the haze which enveloped it. Directly behind the manse was a dank pool surrounded by white birches that cast grotesque shadows on its dusky surface. The combined spectacle was de- pressing, to say the least. I turned my horse to blot from my vision a scene so weird. But no, I had gone so far I could not do otherwise than I had planned. Soon 1 was beneath a portal of Moore’s dwelling and after dismounting I hastened within where I was told my friend lay on a couch in one of the front rooms. I stepped to his door and knocked. A weak voice answered, bidding me enter. Such a sight as I beheld! His face bore a deadly pallor; his cheeks were sunken and colorless; his eyes were faint and expressionless; his thin hands quavered as he extended them to me. Moore’s conversation drifted into the mat- ter of dreams with which he said he had been bothered considerably of late, dreams which pertained to his grave robbing of early days. I begged him to forget it all and to take a stroll with me into the fresh air; and he con- sented. We strolled up and down the nar- row paths of a garden enclosed by a high stone wall, in the numerous niches of which were carved figures of mythical gods. We