Scituate High School - Chimes Yearbook (Scituate, MA)

Page 12 text:

10 THE CHIMES window and in the l)acks4r()nn(l red ikunes leap and stretch their fiery tongues along the tindery floors. But look ! A passerhy has seen the smoke and has turn- ed in an alarm. The tenants have also discovered the fire and soon they come streaming out of the burning house, grasping what few personal belongings they have had time to snatch up. Far down the road comes the sound of the approaching fire engines. With sirens screeching, they swerve around the corner and pull up beside the doomed house, which by now is vomiting flames from windows and roof. Quickly the firemen couple hose to the nearby liydrant and before long several streams of water are being direct- ed upon the flames. Ladders are run up to the floors above the street. Fortunately all occupants have fled from the burning quarters and are now safely in the street below. By this time the interior of the structure is a seething volcano of flames. Entire floors give way as the flames eat through the joists and supporting timbers. The build- ing is doom(td and the only thing the firemen can do is to prevent the fire from spreading. In another half hour the four walls collapse and the house is nothing but a red hot pile of ashes. The last flame is put out and the pile is reduced to a smouldering mass of charred timbers and white ashes. Thus, another house and another fire-trap is reduced to embers. And soon, in the place of that old, rickety, death-trap, there will be a modern brick apartment house which will further beautify the city. CHIMES Dorothy Studley, ' 34 C is for cheerfulnes ' s, which leads the way. H is for happiness, as we all say. I is for ideals toward which we all aim. M is for motives that lead to fame. E is for editorials, some are a ' ' wow. S is for sense, we ' ve all got it, ' ' And How !

Page 11 text:

THE CHIMES 9 and all other types of shrubbery, are budding and peeping forth with an air of the greatest arrogance. The birds in the trees are twittering their early verses for spring. All in all Nature is having a charmed reincarnation. The snow seems aged and desolate lying about the sodden earth in small and insignificant patches. The sky in the mist has a beautiful hue of the golden and reddish sunset which is about to peep forth in the early dusk of evening. Winter, with all its glory and glamour, has fled and hidden in the depths of nowhere, while spring is just bursting forth in her new costume of brilliant color. Doesn ' t such a descrip- tion make you feel as if you ' d like to roam the woods for hours at a time and see with your own eye nature at its best? FIRE ! ! ! George Lowell, ' 31 From a window set in the gray somber walls of the tow- ering tenement house, a microscopic line of black smoke curled upward toward the star-studdqd sky. It was midnight and the still crisp February night hung like a banket over the sleeping city. The gray walls of the tenement house had stood for half a century on the outskirts of the thriving city. It had always been considered as a firetrap with its numerous, narrow, twisting stairways, its small rooms, and poorly constructed fire escapes w hich were now packed with boxes, newspapers, and other useless ar- ticles that the tenants had piled on the fire escape stairs in order to get rid of them. And now the inevitable had come ! The stream of black smoke lengthened and widened, still floating upward where it was blown here and there by the air currents. Steadily, minute by minute, the smoke in- creased in volume and from somewhere w ithin the building a faint glow could be seen, while at the same time a crack- ling like that of distant rifle fire was heard. N , v the smoke is pouring steadily from the foiiiih-story

Page 13 text:

THE CHIMES 11 LITERARY PETER ' S LAND Eieanor D. Kent, ' 32 Would the whispers never stop? Must they go on for- ever and forever? Peter knew the whispers were v;hat was kilHng his mother. He was young, but he could under- stand this. And he, who worshiped his beautiful mother, was wild to protect her from the tongues of the world, those serpents that so harmed sensitive victims. Sometimes Peter went down the steep mountain path to the village, on some errand or because of a natural longing to be among people, to- play with boys and girls his own age, and watch the busy trades-people about their work. But these trips only brought him sorrow and hatred for his own kin|d. Eor there were always the whispers, ' ' That ' s her son, or They say she was born in slums and you couldn ' t expect her to be decent, but I guess his money had a lot to do with it. After one of these trips to the village Peter had asked his mother why the people talked so. But she had only told him that whatever he heard h e mustn ' t believe any of it be- cause she had never done wrong and could face God with clean hands an(d an open heart. She had told him that when he was older and better able to understand, she would explain everything to him but until then he must love and trust her as before.