Quincy High School - Goldenrod Yearbook (Quincy, MA)

Page 7 text:

T HE GOLDEN-ROD 5 Some who liked basket ball, Went to the gym, and played and played. High diddle doubt, spring came about Our knowledge then was great, We tried to do our lessons true, And left the rest of it to fate. A few were on the honor list, Ta, la, la, la, lal, de; Weymouth, Gesmer, Curtin, Leach, Ta, la, la, la, lal, de; And some were nearly almost there Ta, la, la, la, lal, de; But just below the being there, Ta, la, la, la, lal, de. Intery, mintery, cutery, corn, The air grew warmer upon each morn, And as the spring-time winds did blow, Day and week and month would go, The time of closing came in June, And our Freshmen year was gone so soon. Departed we, then, until the fall Sophomores to be called, one and all. (Sophomore Year) Sing a song of six pence, a pocket full of rye, Back we went in autumn again to Quincy High, When the doors were opened we gladly en- tered in, Tramping on each staircase, with great noise and din; The king was in the office busy as could be. The teachers were all working, after being free, Down below, the janitor was cleaning here and there, And thoughts of books and studies ever rent the air. Humpty-dumpty sat on a wall, Fostello hearkened football’s call. Great was his playing,—great his name, Fostello will live in the hall of fame. Jog on, jog on the footpath way, Soon there came to us election day. Listen, therefore, and I will say, Who was elected on election day. Little Robin red breast sat upon a tree, Gesmer was elected our president to be, Down came pussy cat, Robin ran away, Mabel Roachc was made vice-president, ’till graduation day, Little Robin Red Breast, hopped upon a spade, Helena Frances Buckley was the secretary made, Little Robin Red Breast flew far out of sight Charles Williams was to guard our money, day and night. Rocka-by baby, Your cradle is green, Innis and Robbie Were many days seen, Hurling the basket ball On the gym floor, But Innis and Robbie Are Sophomores no more. Little Miss Muffet, Sat on a tuffet, Rating curds and wheys, We went to the hall, Boys, girls, and all: There we saw some Shakcsperian plays. Cocka-a-doodle-dc-doodle-de-do, In our class there abided sprinters, two; Canniff and Innis—great runners were they, In tracks and races, day by day. The man in the moon Came down to soon, In baseball, there it came to pass, Fostello’s plays, Deserved great praise, An honor was he to the Sophomore Class. Three wise men of Gotham, Went to sea in a bowl,

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THE GOLD EX-ROD 4 31 mill iiu some valiant iiceb (Of uiljiclj mankind sliall hear in aftertime. What are you going to do next vacation? In this time of peril and strife, we are all anxious to engage in some work which shall be of distinct value to our country. One of the greatest needs of our country at the pres- ent time is a supply of boys, sixteen years or older, to fill the gaps on the farms made by the men who have gone to serve their country in other ways. In the past year and thus far this year, the boys of the school have shown very little interest in this subject. However, it is not yet too late to enroll in the farm serv- ice of our country. It is not yet too late, having obtained the consent of our parents or guardian, to place ourselves at the disposal of our country in this so necessary and so im- portant work. It is not yet too late for us to come to a full realization of the present perilous condition of our farms. With re- gard to farm work President Wilson says, “It is a high privilege, no less than a patriotic duty, to help support the nation by devoted and intelligent work in this great crisis.” It is hoped by the members of the staff that the seniors will take no offence at the quota- tions found in this edition. This undertaking meant considerable work on the part of the editors and in return we look to the members of the class to accept these expres- sions with the same good will with which the staff took up their task. IDe shall escape tlje uphill by never turning back. Class History (Freshman Year) To high school, to high school, to learn things new, We went, tiny Freshmen, both me and you; “Do your lessons faithfully; learn each law and rule,” Was what we all heard on that first day of school, Then home again, home again, on a swift run Smiling with happiness, the first day was done. Time passed on, New days were born. We made unknown progression. But some were bad, And it made them sad To go back for afternoon session. One, two, ten, five, four Reports came out to us once more, Six, seven, eight, nine, three, Making some as happy as could be. We loved our teachers more and more, Two, five, seven, eight, and four, Three, seven, six, nine, and one, Happy we were when each day was done. Hey diddle, diddle, The cat and the fiddle, The Seniors sneered at us so, And the Juniors laughed to see such fun, And they wondered if we would grow. Ding, Dong, Ding, Dol, One day we went to the hall, To hear a Christmas Concert there, Ding. Dong, Ding, Dol. We sat upon a grandstand, Ding, Dong, Ding, Dol, But how we rushed to get there, Ding, Dong, Ding, Dol. Crashing, smashing all around Ding, Dong, Ding, Dol, At our first Christmas Concert, Ding, Dong, Ding, Dol. In the cold days of winter, When the winds made us afraid,

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6 THE GOLDEN-ROD A few of us remained still On the great honor roll. I had a little pony. His name was Dapple Gray, Soon there came again School closing day; But the tale is not over, Greater deeds by far were done, Listen to the last two years, Attention, every one! Edward J. Markham, 1918. (Junior Year) I Hark! hark! the dogs do bark. The Juniors have come to town; Some to work, and some to shirk, And some to act the clown. II Our president, he asked us all To help the Golden Rod that fall; We answered him as we thought good, And all responded that we would. Pupils of words and not of acts, Could not be said of us as facts; For extra copies we did buy, And kept it up until July. III Hickety, picketv, the track team, Had four of our boys in '17; Heap, Canniff, Earle, and D. Blake For us a fine record did make. IV Uncle Sam he made a call, For high school boys, both large and small. On farms he wanted them to go, And in this way help fight the foe. Many Juniors heard the call. And so responded one and all; Much praise to them who went to work; We know they did not shirk. V Ding, dong, bell, 1917's done well. Who helped them in? 1916. Who helped them out? I hear a shout 1-9-1-8. With many a merry tune, We gave aid to them that June; And without a weary look, VY e helped decorate the hall in every nook. VI Class 1917 left one day. The teachers said they needn’t stay. And so between them both, you see, We became Seniors and felt very gay. (Senior Year) VII The Golden Rod had lost its staff, And it began to cry, “Oh! Seniors dear, I sadly fear, My editors I have lost!” “What! lost your stall'; You make us laugh, Then you'll get one by and by.” Curtin and Dimmick were two able men, They came to work on the Golden Rod then ; And up came Carlson, Markham, and Blake, Men whom we did not once forsake; Palmer and Abele came to work, too, And gave valuable aid to the rest of the crew. Misses Leach and Roache, two able young women. Worked real hard from the very beginning; Then up came Miss Buckley, whom you know, To show how the Exchange Department should go. On account of high prices, instead of eight, We issued two papers at higher rate. VIII F stands for football, in which we excel. B stands for Bradley, who did very well. C stands for Canniff, as swift as a hare, F stands for Fostello, a captain so rare.