Scituate High School - Chimes Yearbook (Scituate, MA)

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THE CfflMES 15 It was mid-winter, and such a winter. Ice and snow every- where. Grandfather said it reminded him of the winter they were snowed in and had to tunnel their way out to the stock. One morning after breakfast, Fred decided it was a good time to chmb the windmill. Out he went, all bundled up as warm as heavy knitted things could make him. The windmill stairs went round and round inside. At the top of the stair- case was a door that opened out onto a sort of a veranda, cir- cling the top of the mill. The flagpole was on the other side, and from it waved Old Glory, where it could be seen for miles around. Out upon this veranda Fred carefully climbed. The ice and snow was hardened on the floor and made the footing pre- carious indeed. If I could only get around by the flagpole, he thought, I could see all around the place. Maybe I could see Grand- father coming home. Cautiously he edged nearer, grasping the rail tightly. At last he stood just in front of the flag. As he gazed downward, he saw a team coming up the road. It was Grandfather. He had been sure he could see him. But what was that cracking sound? Something was giving way. He was slipping. With horror he realized the railing was breaking. He tried to step back, but it was too slippery. He slipped forward and as the rail broke, he fell over the edge. What was that that flapped in his face? The flag! He grabbed it frantically and held on for dear life. He began to shout. Grandfather was too far away to hear. Could he hold on until he came? His mind pictured the ground twenty-five feet below, covered with hard ice. Would Grandfather hear him when he did some? Grandmother, all unconscious of what was happening was making molasses cookies, his favorite. He began to shout again. His voice was hoarse, and his hands felt as if they would irop off, they were so numb. Minutes seemed hours to the ;error-stricken boy holding on to the flag. Hark! was that )nly the echo of his own sobs? No, it sounded like Grand- ather's voice. 'Hold on, Fred, I am coming. Nearer and learer came the welcome sound. Without risking the icy eranda. Grandfather climbed a ladder up to the flag and its urden. When Grandfather's arms clasped him, Fred knew 10 more. The next task was loosening the frozen fingers rom the folds of the flag. An hour later, wrapped up in a warm blanket and sipping ot ginger tea, Fred said a little weakly, '01d Glory certainly elps a boy. Just think, Grandfather, if it hadn't held. Ruth LaVange '27

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14 THE CHIMES And thus she rambles on for maybe a half-hour or more while the rest of the family sit around and groan at the seem- ingly useless chatter buzzing over the line. Why, in half that time dad could be putting over a dozen important deals, and mother — why mother could say as much as sister in one- tenth the time. No line of fluff for her either, plain facts were good enough for mother. Meanwhile, Jim, the youngest member of the household wears a woe-begone look on his map of innocence. He has promised faithfully to call up his best pal. Buddy B. to see whether the aforesai d could go on a camping expedition. Now that sis has the phone, there is no hope of ever calling Buddy; for Jim has been warned not to call Master Buddy's mother during supper time as that is the worst time to ap- proach her. Consequently if Jim waits, the senior member of Buddy's family will arrive home and then hope will be entirely abandoned. After much gritting of teeth and inward swearing, Jim finally secures his sister's wandering gaze and frantically motions his desires. With a mask-like expression on her face, sister continues to ramble. Five minutes more pass, and suddenly she has hung up the receiver and is again patting her marcelled think- tank. With a gasp of relief Jim springs for the instrument of worry. Getting Buddy he gulps, ''This is Jim, canyago? Ya can? Oh gosh, gee whiz! She did? When? Tomorrow? Aw- right, goo'-by. And so the conversation goes, sometimes differing in thought but usually following the same trend. Have you a little telephone in your home? If you have, listen in sometimes; c'est tres amusant. Margaret L. Cole '25 HOW THE FLAG HELPED FRED Fred was just getting over a case of mumps. He had thought it quite the thing when he first was taken sick, for every other boy in the neighborhood had three weeks' vaca- tion about that time. When he caught cold with them, it had not seemed quite so funny. So after three weeks' illness, here he was at Grandfather's place in the country recuperating. Grandfather had a wonderful place, Fred thought, from the big farmhouse out through the fields to the old windmill, that rose from the top of the hill. He never had thoroughly ex- plored that windmill and this he intended to do.

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16 THE CHIMES A SONNET To spring Fll write a sonnet, I've the dearest Easter bonnet, — My thoughts are so chaotic Let's see, — Here comes the spring With birds and everything — My bonnet sports a wing — Sweet roses now are blowing. Soft emerald grasses growing, Again my thoughts are going My bonnet, dears, is green. I must concentrate 'tis plain; I think and think in vain. I'm wondering if the rain Will spOv the ribbon on it Now with butterfly and hornet I'll sing a springtime sonnet I'm just as pleased as I can be; My bonnet looks so sweet on me, I'll try it on, — so you can see And leave to bards, the poetry. Hazel G. Eaton '26 THE FRESHMEN WIN Well, I hope to tell you, the freshmen will be beaten again this year. Yes, they will — maybe. This conversation was between two students of the Blakely College at South Yarmouth. The first speaker was Dick Wil- liams, a sophomore, and the latter was John Nixon, a fresh- man. The sophomore class had beaten the freshmen for five con- secutive years, and Williams reasoned that if the former classes could walk away with victory, the class of twenty-six could, too. Only two days remained before the great battle. John Nixon, president of the freshman class, called a meet- ing of all of the members that night. Mysterious things happened the next day. A couple of crates of lemons arrived at the college. A hardware store was robbed, and the South Yarmouth Fire Department lost all of its fire extinguishers. Dick Williams was appointed leader of the Sophomore class, and John Nixon, leader of the freshmen. The rules of the battle were simple. The side that tied up all of its enemies was victorious. The afternoon that was set aside at Blakely College for a battle, arrived, and the freshmen took their places in front of