Quincy High School - Goldenrod Yearbook (Quincy, MA)

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14 THE GOLDEN-ROD His Duty to the School The track meet between Fair Haven and Manchester as predicted by the sport writers, was a tie until the final event, the mile run. Stetson, the best miler Fair Haven had produced in years, was de- pended upon by hundreds to “bring home the victory” which would give Fair Haven the International Championship. Bates, Manchester’s mile runner, was also a good miler, but the daily papers gave Stetson a slight edge over Bates. Among the thousands of spectators who witnessed the meet were three wealthy members of the Manchester Alumni. In discussing the meet, they realized how important it was for Manchester to win the championship. Something must be done to prevent Fair Haven from win- ning. They immediately resolved to make Stetson an offer to “bag the race.” “Stetson! Stetson! message for Stet- son!” cried the messenger as he paraded through the contestants in search of the famous miler. Finally Stetson was found leaning against the door of the dressing room entrance. He took the message and thanked the boy. After opening the en- velope he read the following: “We must see you before the race takes place, at the rear of the dressing room.” With only a few minutes before the race, Stetson hurriedly went around to the rear of the building and there found the three Manchester supporters. The point of the hurried meeting was made clear to Stetson, which was fol- lowed by an offer to “throw the race.” Just then the milers were called to- gether at the starting point. As Stetson was leaving the men he heard a final statement: “And don’t forget, you won’t have to worry about college expenses for the next two years.” While Stetson was walking from the dressing room to the starting point, he considered the offer. Throughout his high school years a great desire of his was to be able to attend college. His father, who was a poor hard-work- ing man, could not afford to send him to college. Should he accept his college education to lose the race or not, was the question that lingered in Stetson’s mind as he started the race at the pistol shot. The race was a thriller. Bates of Man- chester quickly jumped into the lead and had a margin of ten yards over Stetson at the end of the first lap. Stetson’s heart and mind were not on the race at this great minute, so import- ant to the school he represented. He was thinking of the future. He arrived upon a conclusion. His duty to the school and the school’s honor in winning the Inter- national Championship was worth more than a college education for himself. He quickly realized the situation and took up his usual winning pace. The third lap was over and Stetson had ten yards to gain on his opponent. He quickened his stride, which resulted in a gain of eight yards at the beginning of the fifth and last lap. Both Bates and Stetson were now running for all they were worth, side by side at the half-way mark. For fifty-five yards the runners kept up this heart-breaking pace. Fifty yards away from the tape, and then Stetson shot ahead, passing the tape a yard ahead of Bates. The crowd of Fair Haven supporters went wild. Fair Haven had won the In- ternational Championship and Stetson was proclaimed the hero of the day.

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THE GOLDEN-ROD 13 name was Snyder and he was going to Arkansas to look after some property he had there. He said that his wife had recently died and that he was going to try to drown his sorrow in Arkansas. Edith, being touched by his charm and pathos, told him all about herself, her acquaintances on the train, and about Grace and how timid she was, and how she was expecting a holdup every minute. “O, don’t talk so, Edith,” said Grace. “I guess it would just about kill me to see a real bandit. Do have pity on me and please don’t talk so.” “For my part I’d like to see one,” said Edith, “I’d like to have a thrill for once in my life.” “But you’d lose your money,” suggest- ed Mr. Snyder. “I’d lose Grace’s,” laughed Edith, “She’s keeping my purse for me, that large one she’s holding in her lap. I’m trying to prove to her that there won’t be any holdup by letting her carry my money.” Mr. Snyder laughed and bid the cousins farewell, saying that he guessed he would go into the smoking car for a smoke. Xight came on and Edith and Grace got out their knitting. The other passen- gers were similarly engaged when a voice spoke from the end of the car: “Please hold up your hands, all of you!” Mr. Snyder stood there with a pistol in each hand, and another man whom no- body had noticed before, began a syste- matic search of the victims. He took the money and valuables of all the passengers. Then he came to Edith and Grace. Without protest Edith hand- ed out her brooch, Grace’s watch and purse, and Grace likewise handed out Edith’s well-stuffed wallet. Mr. Snyder then left saying airily, “Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. Pleas- ant dreams.” Edith, white and shaken, sat for a long time in silence. Though the others talked she could not. “You’ve had your wish,” Grace whis- pered, “D-did you get a thrill, Edith?” “Well,” Edith said, “I got my thrill and he’s got all my money. We’ll have to join the Old Ladies’ Home when we get to Arkansas.” “No, we won’t.” A faint smile came over Grace’s little colorless face. “Edith, did you notice that I didn’t act very scared?” “I didn’t notice anything.” “Well, I wasn’t so scared as I was tickled. I guess I was so tickled that I couldn’t be scared. Course he got my watch and your brooch, but he didn’t get a mite of money.” “Grace Doyle! What do you mean?” “I mean I took all the money out of both purses and stuffed ’em with paper. The money’s in my suitcase. I took my scissors, made a little slit in the lining, stuffed the money in, and sewed it up before I got up this morning. I didn’t know we’d have any trouble, but I thought it best to be on the safe side.” Ina Wall s, J. ’28. TO A ROSE Have you ever watched a rose grow over the gar- den wall, A rose of red in a deep green bed, so beautiful, tender, and tall? With the soft summer breeze to caress it, While the sun’s rays around it fall, There is not in the world a thing to compare With the rose by the garden wall. Ethel Goodoak, ’29. BEAUTIFUL HANDS Beautiful hands arc those that do Noble deeds, both kind and true, Willing to work, the whole day long Making of life one beautiful song. Beautiful hands arc those that help The hardened snows of life to melt; Noble and white and always true, There is not a thing they cannot do. Dorothy Giles, F. ’29

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THE GOLDEN-ROD 15 The Maniac The Pierce family were sitting by the fireside in their old farm house on a very rainy night in April. This family con- sisted of the father and the mother and two sons. Looking at them one would get the impression that, although they were poor, they were happy. Addie, the oldest and biggest boy, was a very pitiful creature, as he had been feeble minded ever since early boyhood. Now he was sitting near the fire mutter- ing to himself. No one noticed him; the mother and father continued their reading and discussion of the daily news. Mrs. Pierce read aloud for her husband about the escape of a crazed man from a nearby asylum who had been at large two weeks. All attempts at finding him were futile; what was most peculiar, he always wore a large red cloth on his head representing a turban. He never discarded this, so it would aid in identifying him. The sheriff was so eager to capture him he had of- fered $2,000 for him, dead or alive. As the evening wore away Addie rose from his seat and went out into the dark night. This was his usual custom, and no one would dare to interfere with his plans. There was no cause to worry about him, as he was a harmless crea- ture and would not wander far. After walking for five minutes Addie ap- proached a large pond and sat down by its edge. Soon he began to dig furiously, for in his imagination he believed a great treasure hidden there. As he was thus engaged he heard footsteps approaching him, but he did not look up, as he thought it was his brother coming to take him in from the rain. Suddenly he was seized by the shoulders and instantly there came to his feeble mind the thought that some one was going to rob him of his treasure. The man whom he confronted was dressed most peculiarly with a large red turban on his head. As he struck, Addie jumped up and grabbed him by the throat. Then they fell to the ground and struggled for a long time. Addie, using all his strength, seized the maniac by the throat and hurled him into the pond. Then, cover- ing up the hole where his supposed treas- ure was hidden, he ran for home. That night he was restless and talked inces- santly of killing a man. After that eventful night Addie seemed to remember everything that happened, and at times his mother believed him to be cured of his brain trouble. Whenever he mentioned to the village folk the kill- ing of the maniac, they only shook their heads and said, “Poor Addie is getting worse.” Laura Daggett, F. ’28. MY FRIEND THE CALL OF THE NORTH WIND In all my life I’ve never met, Just such a friend as yoi£p j Who could be very true anakind, And understand me, too. I wonder if you realize IIow much it means to me. Although our lives may drift apart, My Friend—you’ll always be. When you arc blue or very sad— Docs anyone care for you? When you laugh and when you cry? I do, pal! I’ll say I do! Myrtle Richards. The north wind calls and her children reply, And down to the ground they everyone fly— Leaves of red, of orange, and gold. Whispering news that the wind has told. O’er the ground they dance, Back and forth they prance, Forming a rainbow of delight, Making a glad and brilliant sight. They bid farewell to the dear old tree. Then off they prance with mirth and glee; Murmuring news of the snowy bed Soon prepared for each brilliant head. Evanceling Zixck, F. '29