Scituate High School - Chimes Yearbook (Scituate, MA)

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a niatthbox. The younger fellow, terror in his innocenl eves, tugged at Laurie ' s arm and suc- ceeded in puUiiis; him hack oxer the edge of the crate, hut he was onh a little hoy. and Laurie was too much for his baby strength, so he fled from danger. What followed next happened too swiftly for anyone to take in the gruesome de- tails, but no one cared for details when they saw the man lift the crumpled, broken little hod . l ing so horribly motionless. The wasted, emaciated bones were crushed like so many sticks, and the dirt was covered with sickening blood. There was no longer a challenge in the blue eyes; they only stared blankly at nothing. The look of defiance was gone forever, leaving in its place a helpless, twisted grin, dimples refusing to vanish even in death. Death! Somewhere a hysterical woman screamed and the awful silence was broken. Sick at heart, the man slowly wended his way through the gather- ing crowd, the tin) wrecked form pressed to his aching chest. The next week a new sign stood at the en- trance to the dusty, busy alley. It read: Road under repair. ' Yes. the maxor had at last decided that this sort of thing couldn ' t continue, but it took the miserable death of the nine-year-old son of some wretched mother to make him realize this. Ex- perience is a wonderful, though hard teacher, for with every lesson she brings a hitler dawning. AS I SEE IT William H. Aver. ' 42 EviiHYONE from leading diplomats to drug- store cowboys has had a crack at prophesying the state of the world as it will exist after this war. Therefore. I am going to put down a few predictions as they ajjpear to me. In these da s of attacks and counter-attacks, many of us live from day to day. hardly daring to think of the post-war world. A brief look at what we may expect in the ears to come may help us. how- e er. to fight with a more definite jiurpose in mind. As I see it, the peace following World War II will not be an era of disarmament and reductions in naval strength as it was after the last war. Instead, the world will be dominated by one or two large powers who will keep the sea lanes open to ever one and insure peace to all. There isn ' t a doubt in my mind that the Lnited States will be victorious in this war. I think we shall emerge as the most powerful nation in the world. Our navy will be unsurpassed: our army, the l)est trained and best equipped anywhere: and our ships free to sail the se en seas, trading with all countries on all continents. Oil the other hand. I believe that England will lose a great deal of her power and prestige. India. Australia, and Cans da are becoming more inde|)endenl both in thought and action every (la . hen this war is over, one. and possiblv all three, may break awa from their mother countrv and become separate nations. The class distinction in England, and. in fact, in all of Europe, will probably disappear. This will be one big ad antage that will be derived from the war. On the continent, there will definitely be some changes made. German) will prohahh disap- pear as a nation. The German race will not vanish, of course, but I do believe that it will never again be able to threaten our peace and security. If Russia. England, and the other nations of Europe don ' t see to this, we will. As for the small countries of Europe. I think the) will at least partiall) regain their former status. Thi3 does not, of course, apply to Italy i.nd Austria, which will probably be greatly re- duced in strength, if it is possible to weaken them an more. The Japanese. I believe, will suffer a fate worse than that of any other nation. According to all rules of human behavior and decency, they certainlv deserve neither mercy nor pity from an N one. The) must be taught a lesson that they will iie er forget. How and b) whom this is to be done makes er) little difference, as long as it is done thoroughl) and completely. The Chinese are the logical people to assume the leadership of this part of the world. I hope to see them take on that task after this war is won. That is the post-war world as I see it. Domi- nated b) the greatest go ernment ever created h man. it will. I believe, be able to shake off the effects of this war and mo e on to new heights of freedom and |)eace. « Miss J ines to Ancient History Class: ho was the smallest man in history? au hn Deal: The Roman soldier wlio sh pl on his walcii. •s s » 1 ;-. Sleuait: aughn. Icll me what the prefix mag ' means. .limmie J aughn: Big. Mr. Steiiarf: Then gi e me an illustration. .1. I aiiiilui: I like magpies.

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17 TRAGIC DAWNING Patricia McLean, ' 43 X ||T WAS a dilapidated street; census- Ipl takers described it as Hoodlum Center, and its appearance more than upheld J . title. Never was there a busier little EIbSto ' thoroughfare, with trucks, wagons, and horse-carts, ancient automobiles and bicycles perpetually bumping a long up and down the narrow space between the untidy side- walks. Papers, cans, garbage, and all manner of filth stopped up the gutters and lay strewn over the tiny spaces of lawn in front of the tumble- down, three-storied houses. The broken steps and shattered windows, the grimy, scanty washes on the lines, the dirty, tattered curtains, if the inhabitants were fortunate enough to afford this luxury — all shrieked aloud of poverty in its most pathetic form. Nothing but a dead-end road, but it wasn ' t so dead that the city folks didn ' t rise up and demand of the mayor that something be done about the condition existing there. The little urchins who inhabited the crowded, dirty flats were unsafe even on the sidewalks. The cause of the hustle in this insignificant alley was the dump a little to the left at the foot of the street. This was the destination of nearly every truck, wagon, and car that turned off the main road down this dusty way. As a mere matter of duty, the mayor had ridden past the-street-without-a- naine. glanced at the rows of forlorn-looking buildings standing like veterans of the last war, and gone on his way with barely a second thought about it. Three weeks later the only improvement was a shiny new sign at the en- trance reading: Not a through street. Many an accident had been witnessed here. Just because the people were poor, the drivers seemed to care little whether or not they ran them down. At the dump where the little boys went to watch the big trucks emptying their loads, many a little fellow left, half-blinded by dirt which flew in all directions from the spin- ning, skidding wheels as the trucks backed up and turned around. On that |}articular spring day, for spring dared to venture even into this foul place to try to brighten it up, a Sun-kissed Orange crate, rolling along on four baby-carriage wheels, mingled with the rest of the scurrying traffic. It dodged in and out among trucks and cars, missing each pair of wheels so closely it made one gasp, and yet ignoring the honking horns and curses of the motorists. There were two men in this unusual contrap- tion. You ' re wondering what two men were do- ing in an orange crate cart? Well, perhaps they weren ' t quite men yet. for the elder one had just recently arrived at the ripe old age of nine years. His face, however, appeared to be wrinkled and careworn by the furrows of dirt turned over by tears which had definitely not occurred within the past hour, for there was no trace of melan- choly in his face at that moment. He had blond hair which looked as though it were comb-shy, and blue, determined eyes whose resoluteness didn ' t quite conceal the boyish humor and dev- iltry in them. His mouth was set in a tight, thin line, intent on steering, and when his lips parted in a too-infrequent smile, a perfect set of teeth was revealed. Despite his wishes to the con- trary, a very pronounced dimple was visible in each thin cheek. Although he was scarcely more than a mass of skin and bones, defiance was stamped in every feature, and every movement of his skinny little body appeared to be a chal- lenge to the world. This isn ' t a customary or a pleasant thing to see in such a little lad, but Laurie lived in a world where he had always been pushed around, and he had learned, even at this tender age, that the only way to get along was to push back. Laurie ' s companion on this ride was a boy two years his junior, a fact which automatically appointed Laurie chief order-giver and manipulator of the wagon. Their destina- tion, along with that of all the others, was the dump, where they were going to make their daily haul. It was wonderful, all the interesting stuff little boys could fish out of the pile at the end of each day. Having arrived at the dump. Laurie pro- ceeded to back up. while his partner stood in back of him, frantically waving his arms and shouting directions. It was very realistic. With a little stretching of the imagination, one could almost see two rough men matieuvering a huge truck up the banking. This laborious task ac- complished, the boys passed a solid hour rooting among the trash and selecting the choice articles. They loaded the cart with their treasures and started down the banking again. Not q uite at- tentive to his driving now, Laurie turned his head to exclaim. Chee. ain ' t that a classy gun! And in that fraction of a second, four gigantic wheels, speeding backwards with murderous in- tent, crushed the sturdy little cart as if it were

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19 THE CAMERA BUG M. Miles, ' 43 (BXmP faiih well known by llie cognos- ceiiti that this high school is a popular stamping ground for that species of insect called photos insecta by the erudite, and Camera Bug by the un- learned. Indeed, it is said that this locality possesses all the qualifications necessary for the well-being of this most interesting bug: days containing sunshine, beginning with a sun- rise and ending with a sunset: occasional fog: a few cloudy days; snow; wind; rain, et al. Since the climate hereabouts meets these exact- ing specifications so well, it follows that this s jecies thrives reinarkabl . Authorities state that, unfortunately, it is in no danger of becom- ing extinct. Let us then take our magnif)ing glasses and spend a day in the life of this amazing creature. Today, the conditions are very auspicious; there is a sunrise, and our bug is up before most of the other species of homo, all ready to go. On the front of the insect we see a curious contrap- tion encased in a membrane and joined to the neck and shoulders by a narrow cord which has the appearance of leather. As we soon find, the membrane around the machine drops away ingeniously. The insect points his device to- wards the sunrise, and from time to time we hear mutters of f.S.6., a hundredth, infinity. Super Plenachrome ' and the like. This gibber- ish is accompanied by a metallic clicking sound. Experts have not been able to account for this. Some surmise that the machine which the insect carries is connected in some wa) with this f|ueer sound. It is interesting, although tiresome, to attempt to make words out of the mumble- jumble ritual chanted before this strange noise. We notice that it is now almost eight o ' clock, and as the younger of the species eat at approxi- mately this hour, the creature makes a mad bee- line or insecta-line for his domicile, only stop- ping to make more clicking sounds at some birds. This process is repeated at the morning meal, during which several of the young of the species submit U) the clicking. This noise, and the reason behind it. is as yet unfathomed. and a for- tune awaits the man who unveils its mystery. During the day. this operation is continually repeated. The machine is pointed at anything from a cloud to a math teacher, although the favorite subject seems to be any (jung female of the species homo, who undergo the process almost willingly. At the end of the day comes a series of proces- ses which are rarely witnessed by any except the creatures themselves. Masfjuerading as mem- bers of the species, several outsiders have been ])resent at these ceremonies, only to have been unmasked and almost killed by the strange in- sects. This account has been pieced together mainly from the last gasps of dying men. who gave their lives that science might live. A small number of insects (large congrega- tions seem to be the exception I gathers in a small room. At a signal from the leader, the light is extinguished, leaving the procedure cloaked in darkness. Gradually, as one ' s eyes become accustomed to the Stygian gloom, one sees shadowy forms bending over one of the machines. It is opened and from it is extracted a thin, rolled membrane. Muttering mystical words, the leader leans over a shallow receptacle and solenml) dips into it the membrane, now stretched out. This operation is repeated twice more. Some assert that the third receptacle is filled with a 95 ' { solution of sodium thiosul- fate. called hypo by the creatures , but of this we cannot be sure. Several miimtes afterwards the light once more shines. While regarding the membrane, held in front of the light, the insects give cries of exultation and ecstasy, and in some cases, we are told, groans of sorrow and disgust. After the membrane has dried, a process which sometimes takes as much as three hours, th( ' creatures once more enter the tinv. darkened room. This time, part of the membrane, which astoundingly is said to have lines and spots upon it, is placed in a boxlike contraption along with some whitish paper-like substance. Then the light is snapped on. and while the box is held towards it, a chant ensues, sounding like one chimpanzee, two chimpanzee, three chim- panzee, or one thousand one. one thousand two. etc. Scientists are undecided as to the significance of this rite. Then the |)aper is re- moved and plunged into the aforementioned re- ceptacles. It is then said that a curious image results, being the exact opposite of the lines and spots on the membrane, black becoming white, and white, black! After this ceremon it is the custom of these bugs to carry the negative and print, as they are called in the jargon, on their persons and to exhibit them to their fellow bugs in a boast- ful mamier. 1 ote: We have learned that there was once