Scituate High School - Chimes Yearbook (Scituate, MA)

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6 THE CHIMES aLunwi NOT Marion Damon, '25, is working in a Boston office. Eulaila Pinkham, '25, works in a bank in Boston. Edward McCarthy, '25, is employed as a plumber by Wil- liam Harney of Scituate Harbor, Mass. Mary Ford, '25, is taking a normal course at Boston Uni- versity. Grace Towle, '25, and Winifred Ward, '25, are attending Fitchburg Normal School. Mary Flaherty, '24, works in a Boston office. Martha Lincoln, '24, is employed in the office at the Keith Shoe Factory at East Weymouth, Mass. Helen Jellows, '24, is a clerk at the Scituate Grocery Store, Scituate, Mass. Priscilla Fish, '24, is working in the office of the George F. Welch Company. Barbara O'Connor, '23, is employed as bookkeeper in the office of the Otis Market, Scituate. James Dwyer, '24, is assistant electrician at the Electric Shop in Scituate. George Murphy, '24, works for the Massachusetts Bond In- surance Company in the Metropolitan Department in Boston. Velma Pelrine, '23, is now Mrs. Keith Huntley. Winifred Elliot, '25, is attending Gordon College in Boston. Margaret Cole, '25, is taking a librarian's training course in the Springfield Library. John Ford, '25, is employed by the Boston Albany R. R. Company in Allston as stenographer. Louise Murphy, '21, works at the G. Dana Yeaton Insurance office as stenographer. Dorothy Cole, '20, is teaching at Hingham, Mass. Franklin Sharpe, '24, is employed at the Atlantic National Bank as bank messenger. Hilda Stenbeck, '22, is taking a normal course at the Perry Kindergarten School in Boston. Evelyn Bonney, '24, is working in a doctor's office in New York. Thomas Barry, '22, is employed by the Edison Electric Com- pany in North Cohasset. Mildred Driscoll, '22, is a senior at Boston University. Mildred Webster, '22, is Mrs. Kenneth Briggs. Marion Topman, '20, is a nurse in a Boston hospital. Eleanor Dwyer, '24, is working in a steamship office in Bos- ton. Rose Hernan, '26.

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THE CHIMES 5 A STUDENT As the word ''student is applied, it usually means a person who attends a school, a college, or a higher institution of learning. The younger person, perhaps, is the greatest student. A child from the time he begins to walk is learning something. Each day he finds out the name of some new thing, or ac- complishes some new task. The older person has learned all these things which the child is just learning. But, he has many things to learn and accomplish also. His ideas are connected more with the philosophical questions of life, and the further development of science, now that he has learned the technicalities. For instance, the chemist experiments with acids and gases to find out their effects on certain things. In experimenting he learns not only what he is trying to find out, but something perhaps that he has never before thought of. Through every walk of life, people are finding out some- thing that will aid them in what they are doing — whether it be a new device, or a new method for doing their work. So, why should we confine the word ''student to a person who attends school? Aren't we all attending, the greater, more wonderful, and broader school of experience? Aren't we all students in this school? Bessie Monahan, '26. OPPORTUNITY To the window of thy heart Comes a wanderer peering in, Calling, with a merry shout, Opportunity waits without; Dreamer wake and let me in, Sleeping now is deadly sin ; Only once I pass thy way, Just today we two are kin. Regret shall call, with setting sun, Follow 'till life's span is run. If my help you scoffing shun, True Endeavor is my squire, He will tend thy house and fire; Quickly come, then let me in, I can help life's race to win. See how the fallen line the way, Yet on each I called one day ; Now they cumber up the earth, Useless bulk and wasted birth. Take my hand and strive to win, Dream no more, but let me in, I'll slay the dragon Might-Have-Been. Hazel G. Eaton, '26.

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THE CHIMES 7 THE ANTIQUE CHAIR ''Ranny, I want you to go up in the attic and bring down that chair that belonged to Great-grandmother Curtin's grandmother. The Silvin-smiths have some chairs that they say are genuine antiques which belonged to some great aunt of George Washington. If my chair is glued and wired to- gether it will be fine to put in the parlor. Fil warrant we can invent as good a history about it as the Silvin-smiths did of theirs. Ranny obediently started for the attic stairs. The attic ■ was always an interesting place to Ranny, the more so because he was not allowed to go into it very often. It was a large attic and in it were innumerable trunks, bags, old satchels, barrels, the clothes of past generations, boxes, mice, a lot of old furniture, a pair of ancient crutches, an ancient and moth- eaten rocking horse, and last winter's woolen garments. You can easily understand how such an attic would be interesting. Some one had recently made a hurried search for Aunt Eliza's wedding dress as a costume for a masquerade. Everything was left topsy-turvy. A clothes basket with several bouquets of artificial flowers in it reposed on a battered highboy. The rocking horse was gently rocked in a rickety cradle by the unruly mice. When Ranny reached the head of the attice stairs, the old chair was nowhere to be seen. Ranny was glad of this be- cause it meant that he could have a chance to clamber over the trunks and other paraphernalia that littered the place. This would give him an opportunity to examine anything that he found while in search of the chair. Se' irg a bed with a mahogany china-closet piled on it, he decided this was the place to bee'in his hunt. Climbing on the bed, he heard a series of hair-rf i ing and blood-curdling squeals coming from the direction of the mattress. Oh h— h! Ranny cried in fright, but he calmed down very soon when he remembered how he had teased Allie, his sifter because she was afraid of mice. 'Tshaw, it's only mice. Fm not frightened anyway. They did sound awful though. I didn't know they made noises like that. No wonder A.Mce is scared of 'em. Oh D haw, I don't rare. he thought. Then he decided that the antique could not be in that corner of the attic. Of course he wasn't afraid of those little mice, but — oh pshaw ! He turned to a pile of trunks, on the top of which was a pile of boxes. The chair might be behind that. Placing his feet firmly in a crevice he started to climb, clutch- ing the lock of the third trunk. He didn't know what hap- pened next, only that the skyscraper of trunks (luckily they