Quincy High School - Goldenrod Yearbook (Quincy, MA)

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FOG The fog creeps in, a ghost-like hand, Silently, Stealthily. Reaching out, groping mysteriously, Unfelt, Unheard. A misty, spectre-like ghost of the waters, Gray Damp. Gloomily it surrounds shore and town, Disguising the world. Furtively it floats on wings of air, Dismal, Dank. Enfolding all, changing all. Oblivion. The world grows lighter, Lighter still. The fog creeps back from whence it came, Reverting to nothingness. Vanishing Quietly, Like a ghost that is no more. Suddenly the sun bursts upon the world, Glorious, Radiant, Warming. The moist earth breathes in the sunlight, Growing giddy with riotous flowers, Exhilarating, life-giving. Eternity. Edna Groop, • ENCLOSURE The soundless depth of heaven’s blue Is softly hung with net of stars That trembles as the winds pour through, I feel that tremble in my heart. A shining pearl that is the moon Cuts through the net a silver path And ever spins on fair}' loom The misty halo of her light. The loom, the pearl, the net are mine; They are a whole though each apart; Yet ever present is that blue That I can’t hold within my heart. Theresa Zezzos, ’39 TO LIFE I’ve read so many poems Of death: so many That have praised its rest, its quiet, After eyes are closed After the heartbeat ceases:— But, I’ve not a poet’s vision Of my fate. I hate to see the world slip from me. I want to awake; To see dawn again After the darkness of night. I want to feel the sting of hate, And the soothing hand of love. I want to work, to play, to live. Domenica DePolo, ’40 Eleven

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Walter : It gives a beautiful, weird effect. Peter: I’ve had—(pause, then explosively) No!! BIZ: CRASH OF HEAVY LIQUOR GLASS. Walter: (surprised) Why, you’ve dropped your glass! Peter! What are you staring at? Peter: (fearful) There—in the corner! It’s—no, it can’t be! —The door’s locked! BIZ: CRASH OF UPSET TABLE AND GLASSWARE. Walter: (excited) Where arc you going, Peter? BIZ: RUNNING, THEN SLAMMING OF DOOR AND SNAP OF LOCK. Walter: What’s the matter? Tell me, Peter! Unlock the door! (HAMMER- ING ON DOOR) Let me in, Peter. You can trust me! BIZ: GROWL, OFF MIKE. John: (off mike, gravely) I’ve come back to you, Peter! Peter: (off: high, in horror) John! The wolf! BIZ : OFF MIKE: SNARLING OF WOLF. PETER SCREAMS ONCE. SNARLING STOPS. ON MIKE: HAMMERING ON DOOR. Walter: (very agitated) Peter, what's happened? BIZ: QUICK FOOTSTEPS; PHONE PICKED OFF HOOK. Walter : Police Headquarters—and hurry. MUSIC: “KAMENNOI OSTROW”—RUBINSTEIN. Officer: (thick, Irish brogue) Th’ door’s locked. Yer roight about that, anyhow. Walter: It’s just as I told you, officer. He ran in and locked the door, and— Officer: I heard yez the first time. Stand aside! I’ll be after breakin’ it down—When I git me gun out—There! BIZ: CRASH OF DOOR BEING BROKEN DOWN. Officer : (in awed voice) Bejabbers! Walter: (same) Peter! Officer: There ain’t nobody in here—alive. Walter: And the door was locked from the inside— Officer: Thin what kilt him? Walter : I heard a dog— Officer: Well, there ain’t none here now; I suppose he just walked out through the wall? Walter: But Peter’s throat? Officer: Ay, yer roight alxmt that. His throat looks as if it had been torn open by a dog. Walter: A dog with only one fang— Officer: I don’t understand it—(fading) The door an’ windows locked on th’ inside, and still— MUSIC: “LARGO”—HANDEL. Announcer: We have brought you the third in our new series, “Unexplained Deaths”. Tonight’s story was entitled “Fang of the Wolf”. The next story of this series will be brought to you one week from tonight over these same stations. This is the National Broadcasting Company. ------------------ ■ - i age Ten •.-- . . =

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SOCCER NEWSWRITERS STAR CLUB ? V v ill? 3!il ■ ■ TENNIS