Scituate High School - Chimes Yearbook (Scituate, MA)

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THE CHIMES 23 One day Mrs. O ' Malley said to Mary, Oh, Mary, will you please take this dress down to Mrs. Van York and ask her if it suits her? Yes, replied Mary and soon she was on her way to the hotel. Arriving at the hotel, she was shown to Mrs. Van York ' s room. Mrs. Van York, hearing her knock on the door, said, ' ' Come in. Here is the dress that Mrs. O ' Malley sent up, said Mary. Why, it ' s lovely ! exclaimed Mrs. Van York. Give this money to your mother and tell her it is perfect. Suddenly her expression changed as she noticed the ring Mary wore around her neck on a chain. My dear, she asked, where did you get that ring? Why I ' ve had it all my life I guess, answered Mary. Is Mrs. O ' Malley your real mother? Mary was asked. Oh no, said Mary, I don ' t know who my real parents are. Then she explained to Mrs. Van York how she had been found. Excuse me just a minute, said Mrs. Van York, going into an- other room. Mary looked around her. On a small table were two photographs of a man and a woman. Mary thought how queer it was that the woman looked like her. Then Mrs. Van York re-entered the room and said, Will you and Mrs. O ' Malley please come back here tonight? When they had returned that night, they found a strange man there — Mrs. Van York ' s husband. He told Mary that he was her uncle and that Mrs. Van York was her aunt. He said that her aunt had given her the ring when Mary was only four years old. A month later Mary went on an ocean trip with her parents and the boat had gone down. They had believed her dead. Mary had at last come into her own. Miss Colburn — Paul Revere ' s ride is well known to historical Boston. Where did he ride, Dorothy? Dotty Anne — I think it was at either the Marshfield or Brock- ton track ! Mr. Cole — If a man walked into a store, went over to the meat department, and walked out of the store with a shoulder, would that be robbery? H. Merritt — No! Most men have two shoulders!

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22 THE CHIMES beaches in northern Ireland would have wondered at the groups of people standing- along the beach. They were anxiously gazing out to sea. Right off the shore tlie dim lights of a ship could barely be seen. The vessel appeared to l)e in trouble. The storm was still raging ])ut the heavy rain had turned into a drizzle. Finally the ship could no longer be seen. It had gone down. The villagers began to disperse. Two hours later Margaret O ' Malley was awakened by a loud knocking on her door. Hastily getting dressed and placing a shawl around her shoulders, she went to the door. There stood three of her friends, Mr. and Mrs. O ' Hara and Tim O ' Donnelley. Tim car- ried a small girl about five years of age. The child was asleep. And who is the child? Margaret asked Tim. She must have been aboard that ship we saw go down. She must have crept into a life-boat before it got afloat. We saw the boat about twenty minutes ago floating into shore. At first we thought that it was empty but the child was in it, explained Tim. Put her close to the fire and when she wakes up we will ask her some questions, said Mrs. O ' Malley. Ten minutes later the girl opened her eyes. She was a pretty child with black curly hair and big blue eyes. She was dressed in 1:eautiful clothes, and on the little finger of her right hand she wore an odd ring wrought of gold. What is your name, dear? said Mrs. O ' Malley. Mary, the girl answered. And your last name? queried Mrs. O ' Malley. But Mary didn ' t seem to understand. The only thing they could get her to say was Mary. Would you like to stay here and be Mary O ' Malley, my little girl, for awhile? she was asked. Yes, answered Mary. Turning to the others, Margaret O ' Malley said, Of course we will try to find out w ho her people are and return her to them. Eleven years had passed and no trace of Mary ' s peo])le had been found. Now Mary was looked upon as a permanent member of the O ' Malley family and she was liked by all the villagers. Mary often helped her mother, Mrs. O ' Malley, with the sewing which Mrs. O ' Malley did for a living. At present she was mak- ing ? dress for a lady, Mrs. Van York, an American tourist who stay- ed at the village hotel.

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24 THE CHIMES THAT ' S HISTORY Madeleine Bailey, ' 37 Barbara repeated it again — ' ' Civil War 1861-1865 — Civil War 1861-1865. Big-chief-not-afraid died at the batde of — oh dear! Was it (lettysburg or Bull Run? I never can remember! All of a sudden she threw her l)ooks on the table, noiselessly push- ed back her chair and stole swiftly out the back door. Dt)wn the old cart-path she ran and into the woods. It was one of those dreary damp days when home work is most discouraging, and Barbara had gone on a strike. She ran and ran saying over and over, ' T don ' t care whether Big- chief-not-afraid died at the battle of Gettysburg or not. Suddenly Barbara tripped over a twig and went headlong into one of New England ' s choicest briar patches, hitting her head on a stone as big as Bunker Hill Monument. For a few minutes Barbara lay where she was, stunned. Finally she sat up, blinked, and rubbed her head. ' hee ! What a spill. Oh, you awful stone !you ' ve made a bump as big as an egg on my forehead and — Say ! you do look like Bunker Hill Monument; don ' t you? And what funny writing and pic- tures on you ! Barbara pushed and tugged at the rock and when she had pushed it out into the path, she sat down on it to think. ' ' Pardon me. Miss said a voice, awakening Barbara from her thoughts. And Barbara turned quickly to find a perfectly huge man smiling kindly down at her. She finally swallowed her fright and said, G-good evening, sir. Wh-hat can I do for you? Fm from the Indian Reservation in Montana and I thought I would take a short cut from the station to the town hall wliere I must make a report, but as you see, I ' m lost. Oooh ! exclaimed Barbara, you ' re just the person Fm looking for ' cause you ' re an Indian ! Then she remembered that she was in her teens and so she stopped jumping up and down and said, If you please, sir, could you tell me what this stone says? It looks like the way the Indians used to write. Why surely, Miss, I will if I can. He studied it a moment or two and then exclaimed, Why this is very valuable. It is a tombstone and it says : —