Scituate High School - Chimes Yearbook (Scituate, MA)

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14 THE CHIMES Two shots were fired. Their Hi hts went out amidst the tinkling of l)roken glass. It ' s the l)ank robbers, whispered Johnnw What shah we do? W hat can we do? rephed Jackie. There are three of them and armed to the teeth. The three men started tow ard their sedan armed with machine gnns. Our onl}- hope is to act scared so that they may leave us alone, or we can surpn ' ise them by throwing them off guard, said Bill hurriedly. If worse comes to worse and we have a chance, Jackie and Art take the fellow on the right; I ' ll take the one in the middle, and Johnny take the fellow on the left. When I say ' Louisville, ' it will be the signal to do the best we can. Here they come. ' ' Where are you going? ' asked one of the bandits who ha d a pug nose. Ikick to college, replied Bill shakily. Oil, a bunch of college dudes, ' ' gruffly returned the bandit. Hey, you, what have you got there? ' Tt ' s a sweater I won in basketball. Please, mister, can I keep it? meekly replied Art. Oh, a l)unch of weak sisters playing basketball, laughed the ban- dit. Vou little ])oys might get hurt playing games like that. ' ' The robbers all laughed. These boys were scared stiff. They lowered their guns. Miere are you coming from? ' ' asked the fellow wdth the pug- nose. Louisville, replied Art. It was the signal. They tackled the bandits. It w as over in a short while and the three bandits lay still. A car sped tow ards them and stopped at the bridge. Out from it jumped four law officers. (lood work, boys. These are the fellows we want, said one of the officers as he helped handcuff the bandits. Licked up and caught by a basketball team. We ' re a fine bunch, groaned one of the l andits. It ' s the first time I ever heard of bank robbers being caught b ' a basketball team, laughed one of the officers. We ' re no basketball team, said Bill. That is what they thought. W e ' re the college wrestling team. Ow, groaned one of the bandits. Now 1 know that my neck is broken.

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THE CHIMES 13 Again in the sunshine I reflected upon the dimness of the building — the memorial — from which I had just departed. Once, those thousands buried in the Al)bey were walking in the sunshine as I. They, too, had had some of their fondest dreams come true, as I had; they had made something of their lives, as I hope to do. With these thoughts and many others as my companions, I made my way around the well-trodden streets of London. It was like any city, any huge metropolis; and, probably some people w ho had such air-castles as I, would have been thoroughly disappointed with modern London. But every stone, every blade of withered or green grass, every par- ticle of dust in the air spelled romance and fulfilled dreams for me. THE CAPTURE Joseph Curran, ' 36 Behind the wheel of a big sedan, going over the highway at a good rate of speed was Bill Johnson. He was captain of the Louisville College squad which had just dropped its second match of the year. He was going back to college with four of his team mates : Art Merritt, Johnny Smith, Jackie Butler and Jim Smith. The radio in the car, wdiich had been going full blast all the way, was suddenly cut off, and over it came a police broadcast. Calling all cars ! Attention, please ! All state and county police officers. Bank robbers shot night watchman at the Bridgewater Savings Bank. Watch all roads within a hundred miles of Bridge- water for a large black sedan, number plates 5433 L Calling all cars Well, what do you think of that? said Bill to his companions. We ' ll soon be in that vicinity and we are riding in a black sedan. I hope we don ' t get picked up as bank rol)l)ers. What a riding the fellows would give us when we got l3ack to college if we did. After a few miles they came to a narrow bridge where it was pos- sible for only one car to pass at a time. The car on the other side of the bridge stopped as if to let them go over first, but as soon as they were a quarter of the way over the bridge, the other car put on speed, stopped on the l ridge, and blocked their way. Hey, what ' s the big idea? ' ' yelled Jim. Their headlights flashed on the other car for a second. It was a black sedan bearing the license number 5433 L

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THE CHIMES 15 CAVALIER — American Style. Jane Pitkins, ' 35 If you should hapi en to glance through Brady ' s Photographic History of the Civil War, a striking portrait of an officer would catch your eye. You would notice the long handsome face that looks as if it had been l oldly molded by some master sculptor in strong deft planes. The face is adorned with an immense spreading beard that gives its wearer a dashing piratical look, but the eyes are clear and searching. He is dressed in the Confederate cavalry jacket and wears great, soft cavalry boots. On his knee rests a rakish felt hat, garnished with a black ostrich plume. Beneath his white leather gauntlets gleams a golden sash. The picture is of Alajor-General James Ewell Brown Stuart of the Confederate Cavalry, commonly called Jeb Stewart. ' ' J Stuart — say that to a Northern trooper of ' 62 and he would groan with dismay. In his mind ' s eye he would see a shrieking hoard of grey horsemen sweeping towards him, gleaming swords cutting and slash- ing. Thundering at their head would be a long-legged man on a great horse, singing and shouting with a metallic, ringing voice. Such was Jeb Stuart, leader of the Black Plorse Cavalry of Lee ' s Army of Northern Virginia, in the thirty-fifth year of his life, with only a year or two left to live. Moving swiftly to and fro across the country with a band of ragged, fearless men at his back, striking where he w as least expected, he caused a futile rubbing of hands by the bewildered Northern generals. He would lead the U. S. Cavalry on only to leave them and, when next heard of, would be miles away, plundering, destroying, and causing general havoc. In fact he was a cavalry will-o ' -wis]), quick and fearless; to him war was a game and let the best man win. After Jackson ' s fall at Chancellorsville, Stuart was put in charge of Jackson ' s troops. Placing himself at the head of the long, gre} ' line of soldiers, he shouted, Forward, ' ' and led the charge in per- son, straight at the Union breast-works. As he rode, he sang, and above the sharp crack and whine of the l)ullets could be heard his ring ing voice — Now, Joe Hooker, won ' t you come out of the wild- erness ? His men idolized him. AAdiat soldier would not love a leader who went into battle singing and was always cheerful and resourceful even in the most difficult places! They wcnild follow him anywhere, even into that Hall of Great ' arriors — A alhalla.