Scituate High School - Chimes Yearbook (Scituate, MA)

Page 3 text:

3 1644 00269 8387 THE CHIMES Vol. 2. March, 1925 No. 2. Member of Published by the Students of the Scituate High School, Scituate, Massachusetts EDITORIAL STAFF Editor-in-Chief Louis Haartz Assistant Editor Harriett Alexander ' [Ray Ellis Advertising Managers Herbert Frye r Hazel Eaton Literary Editors t Edward Driscoll f Catherine Murphy Athletic Editors 1 Richard Wherity Alumni Editor Barbara Brown Dramatic Editor ROSE Hernan Art Editor Malcolm Merritt Joke Editors f Wallace ToEREY LPaul Quinn Exchange Editor Edgar Hyland Finance Manager EuLAlLA PiNKAM The Editorial Staff is most deeply appreciative of the spontaneous support of those pupils who have submitted articles and stories for our school paper. We should have a much larger list of contributors. To produce the best possible school paper we need the varied talent of the whole school. Send in something for the next issue.

Page 2 text:

BOOST YOUR HOME TOWN The Schools The Churches The Shops The Roads The Shore IT'S A GOOD TOWN — LET'S MAKE IT BETTER THE GEORGE F. WELCH CO. SCITUATE, MASS. -

Page 4 text:

2 THE CHIMES CAN YOU SAIL IT? The landsman sees the sailor trying for a position in the harbor where he can anchor his boat safely. It all looks clumsy to the landsman. The sailor has tacked about four times before he lets down his anchor. I could do as well as that,' boasts the landsman. Now maybe he could, but I think not. We will put him in a sailboat and watch him. With the mooring buoy overboard and the sails up, he sallies forth for an hour of good time. He takes his place at the helm. After clearing the harbor, he tacks into the wind. The wind does not want to fill the sail readily. An unexpected lurch of the boat brings the boom on his head. He recovers from the blow, and lets out some sail. Look out, landsman, or you will go overboard ! He succeeds in pulling in the sail. For the next half -hour he sails before the wind. At the end of this period he comes upon a small group of islands off the coast of Hull. He considers himself a very good seaman; he has come a mile and a half and has had no accidents. He dodges a couple of smaller islands only to go upon a sandbar. He has to go into the cold water to get the boat off. As he rounds the next bend, the breeze shifts and drives him against the bank. A sudden port tack puts his bowsprit in splinters. As he pulls down the jib, the boat drifts with the current. This brings him upon a narrow stream that flows between two long islands. If he has any common sense, he will let the boat glide along with the stream. But instead of letting the boat