Quincy High School - Goldenrod Yearbook (Quincy, MA)

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10 THE GOLDEN-ROD “When We Went Abroad—” Mrs. Allan put the receiver on the hook and turned to her husband with such a look of misery on her face, that he actually laid down his cigar and the even- ing paper. “Well, who do I have to tow home this time?” The day before. Mr. Allan had had to tow his wife’s brother’s car for three miles. “John, the Clarks are coming over to spend the evening.” If she had said her mother had died, her voice could not have been more tragic. “They just came back from Europe two weeks ago.” “Xuff said,” grunted John. When the door bell rang, Mrs. Allan opened the door to greet her visitors. “Oh, my dear, I’m so glad to see you,” gushed Mrs. Clark. “I thought of you all the time we were abroad. Why, yes, I will take off my hat and coat. Horton, dear, don’t stand there like a dummy; take off your things and say something. You know, Helen, dear, when one has been abroad, and then returns to visit the old friends again, there arc so many things to talk about, one never knows where one ought to begin. You know yourself I never was very good at conver- sation, and when we were abroad Horton had to do all the talking. Yes, Mr. Allan, I speak French and English very fluently, but it is not my nature to talk. I always sit and listen. Don’t I, Horton, darling? Why, my dear, what a charm- ing little parlor set. It’s just exactly like one we saw in Havre, isn’t it Horton, dear? If you had a little larger room, it would be exactly like one we saw in a little peasant cottage. Doesn’t that lamp stand crookedly? Why, it reminds me of the leaning Tower of Pisa. It’s in Italy, I really don’t remember the town, but it’s famous. I felt just as if it were going to topple over, so I insisted on standing on the off side! Really, I was terribly frightened when Horton stood on the other side. I almost fainted, didn’t I. Horton, dear? Really, my dear, you never know how much vou think of vour husband until he is almost ready to be killed. Yes, Helen, I will take a cup of tea. When we were in England, we got into the habit of having a cup of tea, and some little snack just before retiring. You know, of course, that the English are noted for their tea drinking. But I never got such a surprise in my whole trip as I did in Scotland. I was under the im- pression that all they did was save money, eat oatmeal, and play the bag- pipes and golf. And do you know, my dear, they live just as we do. They drink a lot of tea, too. And their cups and saucers are so thin! Horton asked the reason—he did all the talking, as usual, while we were abroad, didn’t you, dear? —and they told him it was because the thinner the cups were, the more tea they would hold. But really, the French were the most interesting—My goodness, is that the right time? Really, I had no idea it was so late. Come, Horton, dear, we must be going. We’ve been over here all this time and I haven’t told you a thing about our trip. You must come over soon, and I’ll show you some of the snap-shots we took when we were abroad. Good-night, my dear; don’t for- get to come over soon.” 'Fhe door closed and silence reigned for about a minute. Then. “John, when I noticed that the clock had been put an hour and a half ahead, I almost wept for joy. I’ll never be able to repay you.” And John grinned peacefully, and said, “Don’t praise me, I didn’t touch the clock; that was ‘Horton, dear.’” The wind is softly blowing just a little bit of snow: A little bit of sunshine and the crocuses will show: On every twig that’s lonely a thrush will stop and sing. The blue sky for a greeting will bring violets back again. And every day of winter brings us nearer days of spring. R. G. W.

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THE GOLDEN-ROD 9 Tokyo. All the hotels at which we stopped were American or Swiss. This is the reason why we did not stop at any Japanese hotels. They have a common bathtub—no private baths with the rooms. The Japanese method of taking a bath seems to us very strange. They scrub off all the dirt and then step into the bathtub to rinse off. The bathtubs have a small space for water (no faucets of course there is no running water) and beside this is a stone, just a small hole next to the tub where a small fire is kindled to warm the water. It is all one piece of furniture. Everyone in a home or in a hotel, wherever the particular bathtub is, used the same tub and the same water to rinse off in. The Japanese houses are very frail little things made of light wood. The walls of the inside are paper, so made that they can slide back and forth and so make a room large or small. A room is measured by the number of mats it con- tains. These mats are made something like our porch mats. They arc the only rugs a house has. They are all a stand- ard size, and are placed on the floor in an indentation made so that the mat, when placed in it, will be level with the floor. The people sit on the floor instead of on chairs. The floor is also their table and their bed. Their pillows arc blocks of wood. There is no furniture anywhere in a house, and to an American it seems very bare. The Japanese shoes arc just small pieces of wood with two stilts under- neath. These are fastened to the feet by a cord around the big toe, and this makes the big toe gradually grow away from the others. In rainy weather, instead of wearing rubbers, they wear the same kind of shoes with very much longer stilts. One must always take off one’s shoes and leave them at the door when one enters a house. The Japanese gardens arc beautiful, especially in cherry-blossom time. In the big gardens there are many little bridges, quaint little bridges that go up in the middle like an arch. On our way home we were taking a different line, the one to San Francisco. Our boat stopped at Honolulu. Honolulu is a very beautiful place. It is very much like our American cities, with American signs in the shop windows and on the street. We stopped at a hotel which is a favorite summer resort. The natives were amusing us by riding surf-boards. They started from hundred of yards out and rode in on the surf without once falling off. None of the Americans that tried to imitate them did it so successfully. When we went back to the ship some natives also came aboard, and dove oft' for coins which the passengers threw into the water. The water was so clear, even in that depth, that we could see the coins sparkling on the bottom. When the ship left Honolulu, all the passengers were given wreaths of- flowers, which we were told to throw into the water. If they sank, the thrower would never come back to Honolulu, but if they floated, the thrower would be back some day. We came home through San Francisco, the Grand Canyon and the Painted Desert. The Grand Canyon is one of the most wonderful works of nature. It is a mass of colored stone, red, yellow, and orange. The path down the side is very narrow, and only burros and mules can go down. 'Flic heat in the Painted Desert was so intense that every thermometer in the train broke, but we did not feel the heat so badly as one might think, for out there the heat is dry, while in the East it is humid and muggy. We came straight back to New York, and from there I came home to Boston. I enjoyed every minute of my trip (except perhaps the seasickness) but oh, how good it was to get home and see everybody once more! Elizabeth X. Kinghorn, F. ’28 JUST FISHIN’ Some folks arc crazy for money, Some folks arc looney for wine, But I don't need either to satisfy me With this common old nature of mine. Just give me a pole And a big can of worms. And a brook where there's pickerel or trout. And I’ll have more durn fun than a plundering king. Just fishin’. day in and day out. Mary Isabel Springer, J. ’28.

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THE GOLDEN-ROD 11 Reggie Runs a Race 1. Reginald Theobald Partenheimer strode briskly down the street. Undei his arm he carried his school books, his dearly beloved school books. What would this world amount to if there were no lessons to study, and no dear teachers to “remain at the close” for. In fact, studying was the very incentive for his living; he would die of idleness and in- activity if his privilege of doing home work were taken away. So it was, that although heavily burdened with his some fourteen books, he strode briskly down the street from the Queensborough High School to his home. A boy as studious as Reginald was not often found. He would return home im- mediately at the close of school, study until supper-time and then continue the good work until eight o’clock, when he would diligently pick up his work and as- cend the stairs to bed. Some nights his mother let him sit up real late, and those nights he, sometimes, didn’t get to bed until even nine-thirty. This was “Reggie” Portenheimer, or if you please, Mr. Reginald Theobald Por- tenheimer, Junior, and he was the model student of Queensborough High School. Everybody knew him, but nobody wanted to. He spoke to no one. No one spoke to him. He was thoroughly ashamed and sometimes annoyed at the boisterous and ungentlemanly actions of his despised class-mates. It hurt him to go through school side by side with all these insig- nificant people who “flunked” their tests and joked about it. But today, as Reginald hurried home, he was worried. His mother had taken him to a doctor to have him examined, and the doctor had found him to be badly in need of more fresh air. In fact, it was imperative, that he partake in some out- door sport. And, so Reginald was worried as he made his way homeward on that warm afternoon in late May. 2. For some forty years, track had been the major sport of Queensborough High, and Georgetown had been the objective meet. For forty years, the team had striven for the championship of the Western Coast States, and, for forty years, Georgetown had been the biggest barrier to that title. Now had come the week of the annual duel meet with Georgetown. The entire school, and many citizens of the city had been called together to rally with the team for the contest on the morrow.