Scituate High School - Chimes Yearbook (Scituate, MA)

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14 THE CHIMES dis lodging onh an occasional pebble. Vague, shadowy prognostications of myriad dangers were whispered to him by the softly sighing wind. Gently easing himself to the ground where he could peer around a spreading bush, he saw the mysterious camp ! A tall, bearded man was vigorously cleaning an antiquated oil stove. There seemed to be two other villians around somewhere, for Peck could clearly hear their voices. The topic under discussion was the armed robbery of some bank. Peck cautiously drew his blue-black revolver and crept forward with bated breath. Suddenly there was a loud pistol shot, and a new voice cut in: And now. folks, we regret that the Crime Club ' s time is up and we have to leave you until tomorrow. Again let me urge you to try Bigheart Dog Food for your dog ' s smile of health! There was a sharp, final click as the bearded man shut oft the small, compact radio that lay beside him. Sergeant Peck, disgruntled and dis- illusioned, wearily crept back through the prickling thorns, the tearing bushes, and the sinuous creepers and vines. ' ' There ain ' t no justice, muttered Peck to himself, as he clashed the motorcycle into gear and roared away into the dank blackness. DAY AND NIGHT Elizabeth Damon, ' 37 The eastern sky is colored with the rosy hues of dawn, And soon the sun will raise his head to tell us it is morn. Slowly the sunbeams light the sky, — and, as I pass, I see them shining in the dewdrops on the grass. Now% it is noon, and from the sky the glaring rays shine down. They fall on crowded city streets, on villages, and towns. The air is still. It hangs above us like a pall. And from the forest glades the birds no longer call. In the west the £un begins to sink at close of day. And soon we shall be seeing its last, bright, crimson ray. The air cools, as twilight settles gently o ' er the land. And little children now are on their way to slumberland. One by one the stars appear like tiny points of light; To the people here on earth, they tell the approach of night. Majestically across the sky, the full moon proudly sails. Again it will sink in the west, and another day we ' ll hail.

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THE CHIMES 13 Wild thoughts whizzed around in Pat ' s head, and she muttered in- coherently. She thought of the wives who were husbandless now. She re- membered how she had cheered her girl friends when news of their loved ones had come — how she had cheerfully talked to them, saying that the men had died for their country and homes. Now she saw everything differ- ently. These men would never be seen again ! Bill was gone forever. That frightful white piece of paper was the end. She didn ' t want to live in this cruel, quarreling world. The one-time beautiful and patriotic thing called war was now a horrible, sanguinary thing that robbed life, love and home! Dad was back! The same old dad. He was a colonel now and had a line of shining medals on his uniform. A year ago Pat would have been ah! so proud of those medals, but now — each one sent a sword straight through her heart. She knew those ornaments were given to Brent for brave deeds he had done. Pat wondered if perhaps one of the enemy had received a shining medal for fighting in the great war — for killing — Bill ! She knew that her father wasn ' t proud of his medals. He too hated the avarice and greed of the men who started the wars. That night together as two patriots of America, Colonel and Pat Brent stood, and Pat said, Oh, Daddy dear, I ' ve been such a little fool. I ' m so ashamed to think I could ever have said that war was patriotic. It ' s not! I hope I may always fight for friendship and peace between people and all nations. Do you think I can do anything about peace. Daddy? Mr. Brent smiled, for he saw his daughter glorious in her enthusiasm and determination to see a new calm world, and he visualized her as always striving to bring about love between nations. JUSTICE— WELL? Theodore Vinal, ' 38 The vivid, blood-red sky seemed to splutter as night closed in quickly — too quickly. Sergeant Peck, astraddle of his sleek motorcycle on the rearing hilltop, gazed at the sky. He loved to see the twilight blue shadows blanket the sundown for its nocturnal rest. Below him, down the steeply-descending hillside, he heard voices. They seemed nearer than they really were. Their proximity was to be counted in terms of yards rather than feet. His curiosity aroused. Peck listened. One should not consider him an idle eavesdropper, though; for wasn ' t it his business to uncover strange proceedings? Harsh, coarse voices in excited conversation always intrigued Ser- geant Peck. Leaving his potential Juggernaut, he slyly crept down the hill,

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THE CHIMES 15 THEY DO REPENT Sherman Gates, ' 40 The jury has found the defendant guilty of murder in the first degree. I hereby sentence you, the defendant, to die in the electric chair March 8, 1937, May God have mercy on thy soul. A silence, a murmur, and a sigh, but no words as a solemn, repentant figure leaves a dismal courtroom. The last hour is approaching. At last his fantastic vision of death is turned to reality. Regretful thoughts and tormenting reminiscences are reflected vividly upon his troubled countenance. Was this punishment by death a correction for one moment of heedless frenzy or a penalty for faulty upbringing? Now the long walk into the dirty-walled room, lonely and isolated, except for a giant armchair from which eternal rest emanates. The elec- trodes are adjusted. The switch is turned on. Now he lies limp; he speaks no words; he thinks no thoughts; and he breathes no life. His body is gone with life and its possibilities. Was society compensated for the loss it had suffered? That old idea relating to an eye for an eye might only be termed as a barbaric procedure. Is anything gained by such a procedure? Could it be satisfaction or content? Should our courts have the powe r to execute? Is life so valueless that we can afford to end it? The courts have taken it upon themselves to rule the destiny of man. The words of God are, Thou shall not kill. God is the only rightful prosecutor and he alone is the supreme governor of life and death. Some of us may say there is no cure for the hardened criminal. But this hardened character by patient and resourceful guidance may be melted and remoulded into new forms and patterns. In the prisons of the United States, our prisoners receive kind treatment and training. They partici- pate in sports and enjoy other home and educational assistance. Many of our prisoners have been found to be a help rather than a hindrance in our prisons for many have written excellent stories and possess other wonderful talents. Many have rendered the deepest service to mankind by giving their lives to medicine and science. Shouldn ' t a man who has been deprived of education and moral training receive these in a public institution rather than in a vast unknown? Should we continue to show such extravagance with human life? Those in the courts do make mistakes and the error of executing an innocent man can never be retrieved by anyone; his family and friends are forever deprived of his companionship. Life imprisonment could stave off such a fatal miscalculation. The inequity of the present system is plainly apparent. We shall never reach the height of civilization until we can fully esti- mate the value of a human life.