Quincy High School - Goldenrod Yearbook (Quincy, MA)

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The Go I d e n - Ro d 5 MYSTERY. McFaque Killed! Constable Higgins in search with large posse. Jan. 36, 2001. Graeme McFague our worthy clam peddler, was mysteriously murdered about two o’clock this morning, while passing through the woods of Hough’s Neck, on his way home from die house of his fiancee, Miss Miranda Hepzibah Taylor, who is known to be an excellent hand at throwing rolling-pins and brandishing brooms. Mr. Harold Ewertz, his notable rival, who is known to be one of the most distinguished liars (lawyers) of the court, when passing through this lone road discovered the body of McFague and reported at once to Constable Higgins, who had the body taken to the shop of undertaker Fox, and then the constable called out the people with the help of lieuten- ants Johnson and Sear and sergeants Carlson and Richmond to form a posse. This posse was divided into three parts, one of which was headed by the constable, another by Lieut. Johnson, and the last by Lieut. Sears. The posse is searching for the assassin on a mysterious clue. This clue is a footprint, and the constable is having a hard task in deciding whether the footprint belongs to a human being or to Rex Ruggles. Mr. Ewertz seems quite elated over the death of his rival, but it is very doubtful if he marries Miss Taylor before a year has passed, as she is in great grief. The body of McFague is resting comfort- ably at the rooms of Mr. Fox, and we all hope that it will not grow worse but improve. The medical examiners report that he must have died of heart disease, a very natural thing. As he was on his way home from Miss Taylor’s house, it is supposed she re- fused him and made his heart disease turn for the worse. Therefore it looks as though Miss Taylor should be arrested for the murder of McFague. The reason of Miss Taylor’s aforesaid grief is now fully explained, for it is not so much grief for his death as grief over the possibility of being arrested for his murder. Mr. McFague leaves the world, his house, his hen coop, his chickens, his pigs, his cat and its family, his dog, his clammy clam cart, several unpaid bills and a few distant re- latives, who will not come to take charge of his estate as they do not wish to settle his accounts. Therefore an auctioneer namely, Mr. Rasmussen, who is known to be a “doer,” will auction off the property at some future date. Heber Bailey. Stranger:—“Do you know a gent around here with a wooden leg named Jones?” Fresh:—“What’s the other leg’s name?” —Ex. Miss Perry:—Are there any words on the first line that you think we might need special practice on? Le Cain:—Love. Miss Perry:—I think that is very easy:; don’t you find it so? LeCain:—Sometimes I don’t. Who is she Jimmie? His Mistake. “Wait a moment, lady; wait until the car stops.” “Will you please not address me as lady, sir?” she said sharply. “I beg your pardon, madam,” said the conductor. “The best of us are apt to make mistakes.” —Ex. In describing a “ragman,” a bright tenth grade pupil stated, “The ragman habitually wore a pair of old trousers in several places.” —Ex.

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4 The Golden- Rod Much praise is clue Mr. Thompson and Mr. Mansur for their untiring efforts to make the inter-class track meet a success. Track is a line of sport that Quincy has not entered to any great extent, but a line which she ought to lake up seriously, as it offers more opportunities to more of its followers than any other line of sport. The time is fast approaching when the courses for next year must be made out. The seniors’ advice to the lower classes is “Do not leave too much work for your senior year, and do not take studies for their points, but for their value and the benefits that will be derived later in life.” At this time of the school year most of us begin thinking about purchasing our com- mencement clothing, while the many com- mittees have to hire many things for the different commencement activities. This is a most opportune time to show school-spirit; to show our advertisers, on the one hand, that it pays to advertise in The Golden Rod, and, on the other, to show those who do not advertise in The Golden Rod that they are suffering a great loss. Therefore, let us resolve, first to purchase our commencement clothing and other articles from our ad- vertisers, and second to mention The Golden Rod when so doing in order to retain our present advertisers and to induce non-ad- vertisers to become advertisers. Not only ought we to do this for the honor of the school and the paper, but it is absolutely necessary that we do so to make advertising in The Golden Rod a success. AN APPEAL TO THE GIRLS OF QUINCY HIGH. Girls! .Take notice! Show some school- spirit! To be sure you go to the basket- ball, football, and baseball games, and cheer, but that is not enough. Many of the girls have said that the school took no interest in girls’ athletics, but that everything was done only for the boys. Last year an effort was made to get up a field hockey team. Two or three times a few girls came out, but of all the girls in Quincy High not enough came to make a good team. During the basket-ball season several class games between the girls were played, but there were not enough girls to make regular class teams. There are surely enough girls in Quincy High to make some good teams if they would only come out. The field hockey season will soon be here. Show that you have some school spirit. Come and help make a good strong team. Now that something has been started in the line of girls’ athletics, show some interest and keep up the courage of our gymnastic teacher. Esther A. Jackson. ON DA OUTSIDE. “Oh, gee Red, how’d yu like ta ling in on a feed like dat?” remarked Skinny, Red’s brother, as they stopped in front of a large cafe. “Look at da stuff dere dishin’ out to dose blokes in dere, will yu? Gosh, dey must be some big bugs. See dat guy over dere with da queen, well cast your blinkers on dat turkey, dats some bird, aint it? Dats one o’ dose kind yu’s read about. Look at da dressin’ stickin’ out da end, and slant at da skin all browned up wid da juice runnin’ out o’ it. and da pies and cake. Gee, Red my mout’s waterin’ now. Did yu see dat— Aw come on horn’ I can’t look at dat stuff no more; I tink we’re gon’na have some beans tonight and I haven’t speared any o’ dem plums for a long while.” W- F, Wklsford, 1916,

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6 The G o I d e n - Ro d BOB’S RETURN. (A Monologue of a Bird.) As I was going to tell you before, 1 arrived here last week and it surely does seem good to get back, although I had a very fine vacation. The first place I visited was my birthplace at 65 Mapletree Avenue, a large three decker. It brought back to me sweet memories of past years. Yesterday I visited an old friend of mine whose name is Old Cy Peters. He lives up in the east end and has a very beautiful estate. I had a very delightful time talking to the different animals on the place and Old Cy Peter’s son, Henry. Henry was very glad to see me and called the attention of his folks to the fact that I had made a visit to them. My very devoted wife died during the vaca- tion. Yes, at a banquet given by Dame Nat- ure about a month ago at which we had a most enjoyable time, she ate something or other that she was not supposed to eat, and therefore died a few hours afterward. It is just like the women-folks doing something that they ought not to. Now 1 am looking for another wife. Fritter Jay introduced me to a pretty thing down on Orchard Place this morning. I passed the blue birds home this morning and I see that the stork had visited them, and had left a boy and three girls. They are going to call him Little Boy Blue, but I don’t see anything blue about him. From the way that he was sumptuously eating some worms, I could easily see most of the workings of his internal machinery. He didn’t have a feather on his body, yet they are going to call him Little Boy Blue. I had quite a hard time getting material for my nest. Although I could easily get mud, the hens were not in their yards, so I could not get feathers very easily. Oh! I forgot to tell you that we held the first rehearsal for the Grand Opera which we are planning to hold around the first of May, at four this morning. We are to hold it in Billy Crow’s Hall. I am to take one of the most important parts. Of course all the singers have not returned yet, but we expect them very soon. We should like to make this opera a grand success, and all are most cordially invited to attend. It will be worth your hearing. Russell L. Williams, T7. SPRING HOUSE-CLEANING. In the first place Mr. Jordan was absent- minded. If he hadn’t been, things would probably have happened quite otherwise than they did. As it was, he entirely forgot that his daughter had told him not to come home to dinner, as spring house-cleaning was in progress. Therefore, he not only came home himself, but had the remarkable fore- sight to bring a young business friend along with him. They almost missed the train, (wasn’t it a pity they didn’t?) and at the very time the train pulled forth the little house was in the very height of house-cleaning. Large pails of half-dirty water ornamented the parlor, and the furniture was piled high in one corner. The younger daughter, in the process of dusting the books, had scattered most of them around the floor at her feet. The elder, Marjorie (I have to give her a name because she is the heroine of the story,) was perched on an uncertain step-ladder, and, hanging onto a pan of dirty water with one hand, was diligently scrubbing the top shelf with the other. Absorbed in this she never noticed a sweet little kitten that was con- templating the fluttering end of her apron string. (Did you ever see a cat that wouldn’t