Quincy High School - Goldenrod Yearbook (Quincy, MA)

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THE GOLDEN-ROD 19 Now Pactovis, full of glee, A stout old doctor he will be. Some day he’ll visit you and me, Remember this, and wait and see. The next may be no writer, Nor will he be a tailor; He may never join the Navy, But he’ll always be a Saylor. One that everybody knows Is the Schenkelberger boy, He laughs and fools and often shirks, But he’s always full of joy. Olson is, as Olsons are, A bright and brilliant Quincy star, He knows his Latin from A to Z And in his dreams he sees an E. I must not forget Miss Ricker, Modesty she shows. But she’s just like other women, She puts powder on her nose. These words are for fun No offense should be taken, A joke for the class, Not one was forgotten. —George Saylor, ’23, IT’S A GREAT LIFE IF— Between the coal and the sugar What shall the poor people do? The prices are growing bigger, And the quantities getting few. We get all kinds of prices And all kinds of sugar, too, And Mr. Profiteerer, We blame this all to you. You sometimes read in the papers “A million pounds to-day.” And when you look to see where it is, It’s a thousand miles away. “Do you think, my friend Consumer, Because you have scaled my wall That I, Old Profiteerer, Am not a match for you all?” “There is sugar in my storehouse; There is coal in the boats in the bay, And there I shall continue to keep it Till my prices you will pay.” —Bernard Manning, ’22. OUT O’ LUCK With an apology to my readers for the slang used herein. When your head is feeling solid As tho’ made of hardest pine And of all the brains you once had There is not the slightest sign; When your senses all are scattered And your histr’y’s on the bum; When you’re asked an English question And your head begins to hum; When trying to look wide awake And you find that you are stuck, Then I tell you, friends and schoolmates, Then—I say—you’re out o’ luck. —Therese Dunbar, ’20.

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18 THE GOLDEN-ROD CUBAN TEA “Oh, dear, I do wish that tiresome storeboy would come. Why, it’s almost two o’clock, and the Ladies’ Club are due any minute. There will be no end of the tales that will go around about the ‘new bride,’ if I don’t serve tea. Mary, has the boy come yet? No? What shall I do, Mary? Can’t you think of a thing? I don’t dare borrow any. Cider? Did you say? Yes, just the thing! We’ll have cider, and Mary, you might warm it just a little to make it seem a little like tea. Hurry, Mary, here comes Mrs. Andrews; she’s always early. How do you do, Mrs. Andrews? Come right in. Yes, it is very cold. How is little Per- cival? Better? That’s fine! Just sit down there, Mrs. Andrews. Oh, here are the rest of the ladies. How do you do? So glad that you all could come. Now are we all here? Mary, oh Mary, bring in the Cuban tea, please. Yes, ladies, I thought you would like to be the first to try it. You know I’ve just re- turned from Cuba and brought back this delicious tea with me. Mary, give Mrs. Chambers some more tea. (Aside) Goodness, she’s had two cups and is asking for more!—What is it, Mrs. Good- ing? Can you dance? Why, certainly, I’m sure we’d all be delighted. Miss Lawrence, please don’t sing, you do make my head ache so! Must you go, ladies? Mrs. Hovey, that isn’t your hat, it’s my sofa pillow. Here, Mrs. Andrews, please don’t put my cat around your neck, he isn’t your fur piece. Why, Mrs. Cham- bers, that’s my husband’s silk hat! Oh, will somebody take Miss Anderson home. She’s walking straight into the telephone post. Oh, dear, what do you suppose makes them all like that?” — Katherine Bean, ’20. ENGLISH C2B Helfrich is the first I take, Tall and thin and quiet. He has black hair and dark brown eyes, You’d surely think him wondrous wise. Next comes Gurney, bright and smart, Awfully cute,—bless his heart! He works and works from morn till noon, He’ll be in college very soon. Now we come to a little dude, In Latin we call him “Liberius” Rood. He likes to play and also fool They say he just adores his school. About young Wendelin next I tell, Of course we like him very well; I don’t know but it seems to me A great ball player he will be. Another chap we all know well Is Herbert Berman, stout and swell, He sits up front in all his classes And watches all the pretty lasses. A very quiet boy is Reed, He’s also very smart indeed; His last report read three big E’s And, no doubt, some nice fat G’s. Now I’ll tell of the tallest one, He is Mr. Whitton’s son, A youth of many words is he, Somebody’s husband soon he’ll be. Next, Miss Swingle, so sweet and fair, With dark brown eyes and braided hair- I’ll tell you what, from the very start She surely has won someone’s heart. Cohen so smart and yet so small, Really, the cleverest of us all, Gets his E in every test, And makes us think it not his best.

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20 THE GOLDEN-ROD A DAY’S ADVENTURE One day, last summer, as I was out for a spin in my aeroplane, my motor stopped, and I was forced, by the law of gravity, to descend. I picked out a suitable landing spot and “dropped in” as you might say, on a town, which I found to be Strawville. Finding that it would take several hours to have the blacksmith weld a broken rod together, I set out to give the town the “once over.” The history of the town I learned from a few relics, who were artistically draped on the railing of the general store. Strawville was discovered in 1829 A. D. by some explorers. They made haste to vacate that undesirable region, but one broke his leg in the general rush, so they had to build a cabin to stay in until the invalid’s leg was well. Later, other people passed by, saw the cabin; one moved in, others built houses, and thus the world was enriched (?) by the presence of Strawville, so called because the name of the man who was hurt was “Straw.” This history being sufficient for my fertile brain, I departed to see the won- ders of the town, upon which I will elucidate in the order of their import- ance. First comes Mrs. Sproul’s boarding house. Although the delicatessen of the latter place is neither nectar nor am- brosia, still, among the voters (men of course) it ranks first. It was built in 1872, and in the opinion of most of its patrons, has not yet used up the stock of bread, eggs, vegetables, canned goods, etc., laid in then. The most frequent items on the menu are hash, beans, and apple pies like mother used to make (perhaps she did make them, but oh! how time has changed their tates!). The grub usually eaten is anything but these three, hence their constancy. The second floor of this sumptuous and spacious apartment house is used by those mortals who have no other place to sleep, and therefore, having Hobson’s choice, go to Mrs. Sproul’s. The second place of importance is the railroad station, without which Straw- ville would never be known. Thither congregate the male population of Straw- vill at 10:30 A. M. and 4:28 P. M. to witness the visits of the east and west- bound trains. These sojourn in Straw- ville for two or three seconds, just long enough for the baggage man to give the postmaster the mail. The third place of interest is the com- bination fire station, theater, church, and jail, otherwise known as the Town Hall. The first floor of this edifice is occupied as the “Neverspout,” an an- cient hand tub, equipped with up-to-date leather buckets and bed wrenches. The theater is on the second floor, where such masterpieces as “Samantha of Saratoga” are given monthly, with a cast recruited from Strawville. This room, every Sunday, is converted into a church by the appearance of Rev. Hop- kins, Deacon Spidderkins, and the Strawville male choir, also recruited from Strawville. This room is also used as a meeting place for Selectmen Hop- kins, Sproul, and Spidderkins. The basement of this highly imposing structure serves as a town jail, last used when a certain resident investigated the contents of a barrel marked “Cider” both internally and externally. The fourth place of importance is Spidderkins’ general store, which further explored can be called a grocery, meat market, dry and wet goods store, a black- smithery; and with a postoffice as a side issue, in which the daily mail is inspected, digested, and censored. Perhaps this is why Mrs. Spidderkins is sometimes re-