Reading Memorial High School - Pioneer Yearbook (Reading, MA)

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THE PIONEER. 1$ Now that release was so near, the thought of waiting in that detestable place for two hours more seemed unendurable. At last two figures came up the street. One I recognized as the fat old policeman; if the other were Billy Jackson I thought I should be ready to die of shame to think that I refused to go to his house because of a headache, and then went visiting schoolhouses and climbing ladders ! I strained my eyes, resolving that if it were Billy I would spend the night there rather than have him help me out. At last he came near enough for me to see his features ; it was Tom. I could restrain myself no longer, and just as they entered the school grounds, I stepped for¬ ward and cried, “Oh, Tom, Tom ! ” “Oh, musha ! Mither of Moses! There it is again, and listen to the scraching of the cray- ture ! The saint s defind us ! Sure I’ve been a righteous man all me days” — “ Ilush, Pat. How in thunder did you ever get up there, sis? You’ve frightened Pat about to death. Here, old fellow, don’t you see it’s only Miss Polly? ” “The saints bless me sowl, so it is! Sure, thin ” — “Oh, Tom,” I cried, “do take me down! I’ve been here ages and ages — ever since quar¬ ter past eight, and I can’t stand it any longer ! Do take me down, Tom! There’s the ladder, under the other window.” “ So it is. Keep up your courage long enough to shut all the windows, chick, and I ’ll drag it round to where it’s light. Don’t you worry, Poll; we’ll have you down in a jiffy.” I protested against his taking such unneces¬ sary trouble, but he was firm. I found after¬ wards that he was a great deal more afraid than he would ever own of my falling, if I came down in the dark. Perhaps his conscience had been pricking him a little, too, about being so cross, for he was distressingly tender all the rest of the evening. I locked the windows I had opened, and left everything as I had found it, before I stepped out of the window and on to the ladder, which Tom steadied. My head swam a little, as I shut this last window, but I held tightly to the ladder and went steadily down. When I got to the bottom, suddenly my strength failed, for it had been rather tried during the last part of that twenty-five minutes; and although I am very strong naturally, I fell into Tom’s arms. His face was pale as I opened my eyes, and, as I said, he was very tender indeed for some time; but I was myself again in a moment, and ordered him back to finish his fun at the Jack¬ son’s. “ Not unless you ’ll come too,” he declared. “Oh, I couldn’t,” said I. “Think of how I told them I couldn’t come before.” “ Do you feel well enough?” said Tom. “ Oh, my, yes !” I answered. “ Then tell ’em your head’s better,” said he ; “ or if you don’t want to, I will. They needn’t know anything about this ladder-scaling business. I just told ’em that old Pat thought he saw a ghost,” (Pat had left to pace his beat again) “and I’d go and quiet him. Will you come, sister ? ” “Yes, Tom,” said I. And together we went gaily down the street. Gertrude CuRTrs Brown, ’98. WANTS OF THE SOPHOMORES. No finals. Steam heat in the laboratory next winter. A more cheerful view from the windows of Room 2. Thirty-five Caesar ponies. Carboys of pure sparkling water. Thirty-five seats in the main room of the R. II. S. Stilts for some of the boys of the class of ’98. A spring medicine to keep the girls from yawning during drill. The holidays to come on other days than Sat¬ urdays and Sundays. More anniversaries in the surrounding towns. A clock in Room 2. E. F. B., ’98.

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12 THE PIONEER. I endeavored to look the situation in the face. I was all alone in the second story of a great school building, thirty-five feet above the ground. The doors, of course, were all locked, and the windows down stairs were always left fastened. Even if they were not so, they were too high to reach without a chair. The building was in total darkness, and I had not so much as one match to lighten it. If I called, the policeman, far down the street, would come, and as likely as not arrest me for house-breaking; for was not a schoolhouse a house? Then I thought of Tom, and I blessed him for going to the Jackson’s, for he would have to go home past the school- house. I went to the window where the light came in and looked at my watch ; a quarter past eight. Tom would surely not come home before ten, and probably not until half past. Two hours and a quarter to wait, all alone, and at night, in a big, empty, pitch-dark school building! The prospect was not inviting. I stood at the win¬ dow nearest the light, as being the most cheerful, and looked down the street. Ever so far down I could see the Jackson’s house, brightly lighted, with the doors open on the big, inviting piazza; and I reflected that the oldest Jackson girl was really not so bad, and that I should be glad to hear even the youngest one’s simper. I thought of what fun Tom must be having down there ; and how good the candy on the library table at home must be; and then, growing pensive, I thought, what if I never get out of this alive? for the next day was Saturday, so there would not be any school, and if I couldn’t attract any¬ body’s attention I might starve to death before Monday. And then, I reflected, Tom would wish he hadn’t gone off and left me all alone, and be sorry he was so cross, although it was possible that I might have been a little less cross myself. I began to wish ardently that I had been. I ruminated over our last quarrel before the Jacksons came, and found that it was really ray fault. So I continued to meditate, and so my meditations continued to grow less and less agreeable, until 1 was called back to myself by the coldness of the night wind on my arms ; for, as I said, the night had been very warm and I wore a light muslin. I looked down, wondering why I did not hear the measured pacing of the old Irish policeman up and down his beat, when, to my surprise, I saw him gazing open-mouthed up at the window wdiere I stood. I stepped back hastily into the shadow, and waited perhaps three minutes, when suddenly an overmastering desire to know the time came over me. It grew and grew r , with the unreasonable persistency of such wishes, until I could not en¬ dure it a second longer. I stepped forward into the light again, but before I could look at my watch I heard an ear piercing shriek, followed by a torrent of Irish supplications, below me, and saw the old policeman turn and fly in an agony of fear. The truth flashed into my brain. The old Irishman w r as as superstitious as any of his race, so, very naturally, he fled at what he thought was a ghost. I felt like anything but an object to inspire fear, but it really was no wonder that, on seeing a white-gowned figure appear and vanish so sud¬ denly at the window of an empty building, all his inborn superstition should awaken to terrify him. If I had called, it would probably have been worse instead of better for me, for then he might have been too frightened to come back ; as it was, he would probably hasten to the near¬ est house for a defender, or else summon a brother policeman. I fell to counting up the places where he might stop. The next house was the Blake’s; they were taking an early trip to the mountains, and the house was shut; then came the residence of the Misses Peters ; they were two maiden ladies, and hadn’t a man in the house, so they were out of the question ; opposite them was an art stu¬ dio, which was always shut at night; so (O blessed relief!) the nearest house at which he could ask assistance was the Jackson’s, and either Tom or Billy would be sure to come. And Tom, being a favorite with the old fellow, would almost certainly be preferred to Billy. My heart felt about ten tons lighter than before. I stood in the shadow, so as not to frighten the poor old fellow into fits when he came back, and watched. The time seemed intolerably long, although it couldn’t have been ten minutes.

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14 THE PIONEER. A Junior Girl’s Experience on a Bicycle. A True Story. “ Oh ! those everlasting Juniors ! ” “What’s the matter now?” I asked, turning around and surveying my sister, who had just j come in. “Oh, nothing; only they are always trying to get up a sensation.” “ What have they done so awful?” “ Well, you see,” she continued, “ one of the Junior girls has a wheel. She went down to Wakefield the other day. I don’t see what she went down there for, anyway ! Well, when she was coming back, at the head of the lake she passed two young men with bicycles who were resting on the side of the road. She was riding close to the track and as she was passing them she lost control of her bicycle (strange!); the front wheel caught in the track and over she went, wheel and all, into the lake. Of course the young men rushed to her assistance, while she just stood in the water and laughed. One rescued her, while the other recovered her wheel After giving her plenty of advice which she ac¬ cepted but did not follow, the young gallants rode away, while she hastened home. I declare 1 believe all she did it for was just to get up a sensation ! ” And Bess left the room, slamming the door behind her. M. V. A., ’96. The Department of Music in the R. H. S. We can scarcely overestimate the importance of good musical training in the public schools, and never, perhaps, has greater attention been given to this subject. The number of those who truly appreciate good music increases each year, and while fifty years ago there were comparatively few who understood music and could read it well unless they had received the advantages of private in¬ struction, we find the average pupil in our schools today not only appreciative but capable himself of presenting work of much merit. Work o f a higher order is each year expected and attained in our High Schools, and we feel that under the competent guidance of our Super¬ visor of Music, Mr. Frederic Archibald, of Wal¬ tham, that we have during the past two years been led to the appreciation of some of the possi¬ bilities before us as a school. Although music has always been for us a regu¬ lar study, more work is now being accomplished, we think, than ever before. Last year we re¬ ceived our usual weekly lesson from Mr. Archi¬ bald, practice drill being given once each week by an assistant teacher. This year ' we have been fortunate in having Mr. Aichibald with us both days. During the past two years vaiious quartets have been formed of members of our school, who have presented some very creditable work, and have assisted in many of the entertainments given. The concerts of each year have given us a definite purpose and, we have been assured, have afforded our friends much pleasure. The first concert, at which was presented the cantata, “ The Wreck of the Hesperus,” was held on April 16, 1895. The school was assisted by Mrs. Clara Tourjee Nelson of Reading, Mr. Sidney Howe of Melrose, Mr. John Craig Kelly of Boston, together with Mr. Archibald, to whom much of the success of the evening was due. . The cantata, “ St. Cecilia’s Day,” was given March 27, 1896. This concert was considered a greater success even than the one of the preced¬ ing year. The school was assisted by Miss Priscilla White of Boston, Miss Nellie Mae Holt of Win¬ chester, Mr. John Webster of Reading, and an augmented chorus of the friends of the school. Mrs. John Webster served us most acceptably as accompanist at both concerts. We feel much indebted to all who have ever encouraged us by their interest and generous appreciation. At present the scholars are preparing two pieces for graduation, “ Children’s Hour,” by A. R. Gaul, and “Miller’s Song,” by Zollner. A semi-chorus of young ladies has been formed, who have also in preparation “ Lullaby,” by G. W. Chadwick, and “ Down in the Dewy Dell,” by 11. Smart.