Scituate High School - Chimes Yearbook (Scituate, MA)

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THE CHIMES 21 did come, and just in time. The boy and father were saved after a horrible journey which neither would ever forget. As Sonny opened his eyes, he looked into his mother's. He whispered, ''Daddy, Muvver, and Sonny — all together again. WHAT IS COLLEEG? Velma Damon, '28 ''Now-a-days, remarked a righteous-looking lady, ''there's an excuse for everything. Why, my Johnny came down to breakfast this morning with a soiled shirt on. When I called his attention to it, he replied, 'Naw, faint dirty. It's colleeg.' Suzie's shoes needed shining too, and when I mentioned the fact to her she said, 'Aw, they're awright. It's colleeg!' I don't know what the younger generation is coming to, she continued in a pained voice. I corrected Johnny's and Suzie's English, but they said, 'Ya ain't supposed to say aren't , you're supposed to say ain't. It's colleeg!' When one can find an excuse for a soiled shirt, and poor English, it's going pretty far. Just what is colleeg? she asked. I have often wondered what colleeg really did mean. I am sure that a soiled shirt or dress could not go under th at term. Looking around and hearing the girls and fellows talk, I have decided that colleeg really means something that is rather smart-looking or sporty. Of course, there are some people who always go to the extremes in everything. That is shown by the boy who called his soiled shirt colleeg , and by the girl whose shoes needed a shine. You may see a girl dressed in the latest sport clothes — she's colleeg in a wholesome, neat w ay. She may go to extremes in her clothes, but I'll wager her skirt would be pressed and her shoes shined. You may see a young fellow dressed in floppy trousers, soft hat on the back of his head, striped socks to match his tie and scarf — he's colleeg! If you look closely, you will see in the majority of cases, that those flaring, baggy trousers are pressed, his shirt is clean, and his shoes shined. Listen to them talk — these colleeg people ! Perhaps they do consider it smart to use the latest slang expressions, but they use them mostly when they are with a group by themselves. But won't you agree that their English is really correct? Do you hear so very many of them saying ain't as a regular thing? No, you do not. These smart youngsters realize the value of a good working vocabulary and of good English, and they use their knowledge to good advantage. There are the extremes of youth that would try to excuse their carelessness in dress and speech by calling it colleeg . But these are the exceptions — not the rule, and it is the regular thing we should judge by; don't you agree?

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20 THE CHIMES ON THE TIDE OF THE FLOOD Ruth Damon, '31 A pitiful wail of a child rose out over the wild tumult of the flooded area. ''Oh! muvver, daddy, where are you? The little, pathetic voice cried. ''You told me to wait, and Fs waited and waited and now Fm so frightened. A small boy of about four looked out across the flooded land. As far as one's eye could see, the land was just a wild confusion of particles of houses and furniture. The boy was in the window of a large house in the top story. The water was now rising fast and it would soon reach the second story — one story beneath the boy. The mind of the small urchin was working fast. If Daddy didn't come before long, — he would wait till the waters were almost engulfing him and then kneel down and say his prayers and let that old black water catch him. But, surely. Daddy would come as he had said! He could not leave his beloved son to drown. Here, he started sobbing again. Some time had passed, and the water was now winning its way to the window where knelt the small boy. A few miles down the river, in a relief station, a small woman was crying steadily and repeating, Oh, save them, please. Now fighting his way feverishly was — Daddy! He had almost reached the window. His son was now fast losing consciousness. Far, far, in the distance, he could hear the roar of the water. Now that sleepy feeling was overtaking him more quickly. But, hark, what was that? A voice — and surely he knew that voice — Daddy had returned ! Steady there, son, the voice said. Grab hold of Daddy's coat — that's right. Now hold tight. Sonny felt a strong arm around him, and felt himself slowly rising. Oh, Daddy, he gasped, where is mother. Daddy? A muffled sob was his only answer. He had left mother at the station — perhaps dying. Here the small frail voice continued, What makes it so — That was as far as he got ; for a burst of water in the window was what the poor man had been waiting for. He jumped — down, down, down, into the bottomless pit. Now they were rising. Daddy set out bravely, first catching one thing and then another, — trying, trying, to keep Sonny's head out of the water. A few hours later, a man and small boy, bruised and un- conscious, were brought into the relief station. The doctor and nurses worked feverishly but successfully. If the supplies would only come, they could save them. They

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22 THE CHIMES JOHNNY DOES NOT CHOOSE TO RUN Priscilla Cole, '29 Johnny Walker was sitting reading Gentlemen Prefer Blondes in his room. He was prepared for a quiet even- ing, but this did not last long. The door burst open and a group of fellows entered. Hi there, called Lester Moore, a classmate of Johnny. Put up your book. I want you to meet this young fellow here. Johnny laid down his book and rose. This is a new friend, Johnny, said Lester. Mr. Arm- strong, meet Mr. Walker. How do you do, Mr. Armstrong, replied Johnny. He's going to be your new boss, grinned Lester. What? asked Johnny. Mr. Walker, you are to be the future basket ball captain, informed Lester with an air of dignity. No, siree, answered Johnny. I'm too busy with my studies. Never mind, Les, grinned Tony Armstrong. We'll fix him. I've got an idea, spoke up Lester. Come on. Lester and Tony left the room, and Johnny went back to his book. His mind was far from his book. Realizing that he could not concentrate on it, he went to bed. Johnny was rather puzzled the next few days. He knew nothing of v hat was being done. He was at last informed that it was his duty to beat the Sigma Kappa. Johnny, re- membering this, consented although it was against his wishes. On Tuesday, with the election to be held on Monday of the next week, Lester and Tony met in Johnny's room. What's up? asked Johnny. I guess that we're defeated, but they're circulating stories about you that we must stop, said Lester. What stories? asked Johnny in surprise. They say that you are high-hat, a poor athlete, and a poor sport. Baloney, grinned Tony. Probably, but we've got to get busy and deny these things, said Lester. Lester and Tony left, and Bill Young entered with a small, slender fellow. How's the fight? inquired Bill. Not so good, and I don't care, answered Johnny. It's up to you to beat the Sigma Kappa, Johnny, said Bill- You'd better get busy. I've got something to tell you, piped ud the little fellow. 'I just learned that your new boss and the Siema Kappa candidate, Mullin' , are prettv thick at home. Armstrong's running against Mullins now.