Quincy High School - Goldenrod Yearbook (Quincy, MA)

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8 THE GOLDEX-ROD So Duane accompanied her, getting better acquainted every step until by the time they reached camp they were very well acquainted and felt almost like old friends. When they reached camp, Duane met Ralph Howard’s mother and father, and a little dark-eyed maid who, it was very evident, was much in love with Ralph. Duane at once liked Mrs. Howard. He had lost his own mother soon after he was born, and his father paid no atten- tion to him. except to see that he had plenty of money and was kept away from him. After Duane became dis- graced, his father had disowned him. Therefore it was only natural for Duane to like these two grey-haired parents of Ralph, to say nothing of a certain sister of Ralph’s. The Howards had planned to stay a month anyway, but as the days and weeks passed they decided to remain until the bridge was finished. When finally the bridge was formally opened and the first train passed over it, Duane noticed, but paid no attention to the fact that there was an extra car on the train that came into camp. On his return to camp, the necessity for the extra car was explained. In his cabin sat not only his father who had at last come to recognize that his son was a capable man, but many of his old friends who had come to celebrate his achieve- ment as a builder and his subsequent return home. So it was that the mystery of Duane was cleared up, and he found his friends, and in a short time—O—but that is another story. —Stuart Beal, 20. MRS. JONES PREPARES FOR TOWN Mrs. Jones was in a hurry. Nothing more need be said! Yet, as you will see, Mrs. Jones found plenty to say to her ten-year-old son. “Now, Tommie, you be sure and see that the chickens are fed at half past three, and tell Mamie to water the flower garden, as it is surely withering in the hot sun. “Get me that button hook, Tom, and don’t stand looking at me as though you were dumb. “You might tell Mary, when she comes home, to wash the dishes and dust the parlor. “That’s a good boy, now fetch me my hat-pin over there on the shelf. “Run and see if there is any mail be- fore I go.—No, I guess the mail man didn’t stop, so never mind. “Now, Tommie, don’t forget to tell the twins to change their new suits and their shoes,’’ continued Mrs. Jones while she fussed with her hair. By this time Tommie wished he had gone to school even if he did have a toothache. “Say, Ma. can I go out with the fel- lows after school?” • ‘‘Now, Tommie. I have got to run for that train so don’t bother me with ques- tions. Oh dear me! I forgot about those silk gloves Mrs. Murphy is going to let me take. They are her second best, but I know I won’t be able to see the best part of them. But run over for me. Tommie and besureand say‘Please’.” Tommie made a hurried exit, coming back in a few minutes with a pair of long silk gloves. “Well, I declare,” Mrs. Jones went on. “If I didn’t almost forget about the old alarm clock I am going to take with me. “Run upstairs and look on the bottom shelf in the closet.” After a hunt around upstairs Tommie decided he couldn’t find it. “Well, land sakes alive! You never

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THE GOLDEN-ROD 7 caused him to disappear from home and friends. As she walked toward him, he wondered who she was, why she was there alone, and why Ralph, his assis- tant, had not stopped her from coming down where he was. And then he re- membered that Ralph had gone into town that day. “Hello, Mr. Duane,” called the vision. “Why, hello,” answered Duane. “But may I ask what you are doing here alone, twenty miles from town and night com- ing on? And how did you know my name?” “One at a time, please,” replied the vision. “First, I am not alone; Brother Ralph is back in camp with Mother, Dad, and Ralph’s fiancee.” Here she made a face. “And for as knowing your name, I made my brother tell me who was really in charge here because I know his shortcomings and that he hasn’t brains enough to be the chief on such a large job as this; and I should think that he would make a very poor assistant.” “On the contrary, he makes a very good one and I should be lost without him.” “No, you wouldn’t,” said Miss How- ard. “You just said that to be nice. You see I know my brother and of what he is capable.” Then, as a curious look came into her eyes, “Haven’t I seen you somewhere before?” she questioned. “Not that I know of. At any rate I can say that I never saw you before. If I had, I am sure I couldn’t have for- gotten such a blessing. No, I don’t think we were ever acquainted.” “I know we were not acquainted,” re- plied Miss Howard, “but I do think I have seen you before, and yet I don’t re- member ever having heard of anybody by the name of Harold Duane—still—I have it! Your name is Harold Duane Starr. You graduated from Tech about five years ago and had a position with the Southern Construction Company. “You were trusted with some very important papers which somehow dis- appeared. It was claimed that you sold them to a rival company. You were disgraced. When James Carrol was given your position, you disappeared.” A look of astonishment swept over Duane’s face as he admitted the truth of her statements with a sinking heart. He added, “Now, you see why it is given out that your brother is the chief here.” “What! don’t you know that your name has been cleared and your noble act had been known for over a year in Yuma?” “They have found out what actually happened to the papers? They know the whole story?” “Yes. About eighteen months ago James Carrol was taken sick and in his delirium he told the whole story of Marion Cartwright’s duplicity, of his scheming, and of your noble attempt at keeping the shame from Marion’s name.” “But how did you recognize me so quickly?” queried Duane. “I saw a picture of you once, and just now I picked up this as I was walking down here.” And she held up a little leather bill fold with the letters H. I). S. inscribed upon it. Duane made a hasty movement and felt of his inside coat pocket for the bill fold he always kept there, but it was gone and this girl was holding it up for his inspection. Laughing, she handed it to him. “Yes, you lost it and here it is.” All unnoticed by the two, it had grown dark and the workmen had gone back to camp. “I think you had better be returning to camp or Ralph will think you are lost,” said Duane at last. “Aren’t you coming, too?” asked Miss Howard. “I am afraid I shall not be able to find the way back, alone in the dark.”

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THE GOLDEN-ROD 9 could help me when I was in a hurry.” “Aw, Ma, I don’t know where your old clock is anyway,” was all Tommie dared venture to say. “Well, I think lam ready now. If 1 don’t get home by five o’clock tell Mary to put on the potatoes for supper.” With this parting command Mrs. Jones said goodbye and started down the street. “Whew!” whistled Tommie when his mother had gone, “Can’t Ma talk fast! “I wonder what she told me to tell the kids?” —Winifred Barnes, ’22. CLUBS OR DOUGHNUTS “Well, I do declare! if there ain’t Sister Ida acomin’ up the street. What she wants t’ come on Saturday mornin’ for, I don’t know. But then, I suppose she’s t’ be pitied gallivantin’ ’round so with her everlastin’ Woman’s Club.” The speaker heaved a sigh, cast a hasty glance at her apron, and rolled down her sleeves. “Why, Sister Ida, how do you do? Come right in. You must excuse me— I’m in the midst of my Saturday mornin’ bakin’. Got yours all done?” “Good morning, Jane. No, thank you, I won’t come in and you must re- member, Jane, that with my numerous social duties, it is impossible for me to do cooking of any kind. I came over, Jane, to see if you would get Hiram’s dinner? I’m lunching in town to-day with a prominent member of the Woman’s Club.” “For the land’s sake! You don’t say! You’re gettin’ real stylish now, ain’t you? Hmm. Sure, I’ll be glad to get Hiram’s dinner. Had any news from Joe lately?” “I beg your pardon? Oh, Joseph? Why, yes, we received a letter yesterday. He said that he hoped to be home soon and that he was eager for some of my doughnuts. The poor boy doesn’t under- stand that I would be positively worn out if I were to start to cook. But then, I am sure he will be amply compensated when he learns of my election as presi- dent of the Woman’s Club. I’m really anxious to see the look of pride in his face. It’s foolish in me, of course. Well, good morning, Jane, and thank you.” Jane shook her head and mur- mured, “Poor Joe! And poor Ida too! She’s greatly mistaken in thinking that Joe would rather have her election than her doughnuts.” A week later, a tall young fellow in a soldier’s uniform dashed up the steps and into the house. “Hello there, Mother,” he shouted. “I’m hungry for your doughnuts.” Ida rushed to meet him. “Oh, Jo- seph, Joseph!” she cried, “You’re really home again.” “Yup, I’m home,” the young fellow smiled, “and the first thing I’m going to do is to investigate your pantry. What’s that? You’re President of the Woman’s Club? That’s fine. Say, where do you keep your doughnuts?” He stuck his head out of the pantry with a perplexed air. “Er, really, Joe,” his mother started, ‘I haven’t been—Oh. wait a minute!” And with this, she dashed out of the house, leaving Joe staring after her. A moment later, she was standing in Jane’s doorway, talking excitedly. “What did you say?” Jane asked, puzzled. “Please, Jane, dear Jane, let me have a pan of doughnuts. Please! Joe’s home and he wants them. I’m going to begin to fry some the minute I get home but he wants them now. Oh, thank you, thank you!” Jane stared at the empty doorway and then chuckled softly, “Mmm,” she said, “The Woman’s Club had better look out.” — HazelE. Jackson, ’22.