Somerville High School - Radiator Yearbook (Somerville, MA)

Page 14 text:

10 SOMERVILLE HIGH SCHOOL RADIATOR AT THE ELEVENTH HOUR. ‘By A. M. W., Latin School. EXXY MASON sat by the window of his room in the old dormitory, and looked out across the campus. John, the orange man, was slowly making his way through the network ol paths, his sedate little steed stalking along with a degree of dignity that showed him to be fullv aware of the honorable position he occupied as a favorite of the Crimson, and an animal whose privilege it was to precede that proud chariot which the sons of John Harvard had presented to his mas- ter. Now and then a smiling bewhiskered old face peered out from the depths of the cart as John rec- jovs in store for him. In his hand he held a letter. He had pressed it into a crumpled, uneven wad of paper, and time and again he pinched it savagely and angrily. He dared not write home for the money, he told himself. Rut he could not obtain it in any other way. he reasoned. Money he must have, but how. whence? Poor Penny arose and strode rapidly up and down the length of the little room. This was 1 Jenny's first year at Harvard. Being, then, a Freshman, he had indulged in most of the follies common to that animal. He had kept late hours: he had gone in town too often: he had COGAN SHOT A STEALTHY GLANCE AT THE YOUNG FELLOW AND HESITATED. ognized some acquaintance among the passers-by. Once in a while a student strolled by whose ex- cited manner and eager look betokened the coming of some great event. A laundry wagon was pour- ing forth a multitude of newly-laundered shirts and collars; somewhere in the distance a street piano was grinding out cheerfully a few variations of Fair Harvard.’ and an enterprising young Hebrew who had invaded the sacred precincts was selling yard after yard of crimson ribbon and neck- wear. A certain air of suppressed excitement hovered over the place: the game was to come off on the morrow. Benny Mason, as we have already said, looked out upon this scene tinged by the fading light of .the setting sun. The old dormitories and halls, and. in the background, a glimpse of the ivy-robed chapel, seemed to form for the picture a beautiful and artistic frame. Benny’s heart was heavy; the morrow had no moved in a fast set; and now, at the end of the sec- ond month of his college career, he found himself stranded and threatened with a lawsuit. Benny realized that he had been foolish ; also that a sport- ing life docs not agree with a Freshman. If he had come to this conclusion a month earlier—ah, well, we all know those saddest words of tongue or pen”! The strangest part of it all was that our young friend had committed all these misdemeanors in the face of the fact that he roomed with his elder brother Bob. Bob was a Senior. That in itself says much. But when we add that he played tackle on the Crimson eleven, that says a great deal more, and explains, also, why Benny was left too fre- quently to his own devices. Bob was often out of town with the team, and so thoroughly devoted to the cause that lie neglected somewhat the welfare of his younger brother. Witness the result! What ill wind blew Cogan on to the campus just

Page 13 text:

SOMERVILLE HIGH SCHOOL RADIATOR 9 WILLIAM McKINLEY. By A. D. W.f L.t '02. N Saturday morning, September i i. William McKinley, the twenty-lourtn president ot the United States, died from the effects of wounds received at the hands of an assassin, 'i he event was not unprecedented in the coun- try's history. But it was, in a way, unlike the two similar ones which preceded it. e can under- stand the assassination of Lincoln at a time when sectional feeling ran so high that it made part ot our country almost a foreign nation, imagining our president its bitterest enemy. We can comprehend the murder of Garfield by a half-insane fanatic, but the well-planned, cold-blooded murder of a man who has always shown himself the best friend and most devoted servant of the people, as Mr. Mc- Kinley has, by a man in his normal condition ot mind, acting entirely on his own responsibility, and with certain death staring him in the face if he suc- ceeded,—this is entirely beyond the range of our comprehension. The fact remains; explain it who can. W illiam McKinley was descended from sturdy Scotch and Irish ancestors, the first of whom born in this country was his great-grandfather, who served in the Revolution. The family joined the great Western movement during the last of the cen- tury. and emigrated to Ohio. At Xilcs, in that state, on January 29, 1843, the future president was born, the seventh of nine children. 11 is education included a course in a common school, a local semi- nary, and a partial course in Allegheny College. A short experience at school teaching, an equally short one as post-office clerk followed, and then, two months after the outbreak of the Civil Was. McKinley, then eighteen years of age. joined the Twenty-third Ohio regiment as a private. His service in the war was conspicuous for bravery. He served until the end. being absent only once on a short furlough, and never on a sick leave: he fought with honor in every engagement in which he took part, and his promotion, either for gallantry or technical skill, was steady from private to major, which rank he held when his regiment was mustered out. After the war McKinley abandoned his inclina- tion to remain in the army, at the request of his father, and took up the study of law in Canton, O., in which town he afterwards made his home. He soon entered politics, and was elected prosecuting attorney for his county. From the first he was an ardent Republican. In 1876, and for six terms thereafter, lie was elected and re-elected to the house of representatives, his final defeat being due to an ingenious re-districting of the state by his op- ponents. lie was active and competent in his ser- vices in congress, and was a most useful man to his party, and, as chairman of the Ways and Means committee, gave his name to the famous tariff measure passed by the fifty-first congress. This caused him to be regarded as a national leader of the Republican party, and in 1896 his nomination for the presidency was hailed by the whole party as logical and strong. His career as chief execu- tive needs no comment, a most effective one being furnished by the fact of his recent re-election by a larger plurality than before. In private life Mr. McKinley was a man of at- tractive personality and kind disposition. It has been said that probably no American in public life had fewer personal enemies or was submitted to fewer bitter personal attacks. His married life, al- though it had great sorrows in the death of two children and the invalid condition of his wife, was beautiful in the affection between the strong hus- band and the weak, almost helpless, wife. Mrs. McKinley has the deep and heartfelt sympathy of the whole country, and, in a large measure, of the whole world. ------------------ O Captain! My Captain! () captain! my captain! our fearful trip is done, The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won, The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all ex- ulting, While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring: Rut. O heart! heart! heart! O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my captain lies, Fallen, cold and dead. () captain! my captain! rise up and hear the bells; Rise up—for you the Hag is flung—for you the bugle trills, For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding, For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning; Hear captain! dear father! This arm beneath your head! It is some dream that on the deck You’ve fallen cold and dead. My captain does not answer me, his lips arc pale and still. My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will, The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done. From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won; Exult O shores, and ring O bells! Rut I with mournful tread Walk the deck my captain lies, Fallen, cold and dead. —Walt Whitman.

Page 15 text:

SOMERVILLE HIGH SCHOOL RADIATOR 11 at this time Benny never knew. The fact is, Benny didn't know the winds very well, anyway, having devoted the greater part of his high school life to the study of football. lie had never quite under- stood, either, just why the school committee allowed such books as Vergil” in the schools. It is much more important to know the football rules for the season than to be able to state from what j oint of the compass Xotus and his brethren are wont to issue forth. That is indisputable. But some wind or other must have blown the fel- low in through the grim old gate that guards the blessed region, for there he was right in front ot Benny's window, glorious in all the splendor of a new vest, which would certainly, in the diversity of its colors, have rivaled Joseph's famous garment, lie was puffing away at an enormous pipe, and casting glances of pride upon a large bull pup which accompanied him. lie was not at all bad- looking. was Cogan. At first sight you would call him handsome. Then you would pause and re- flect. Finally you would come to the conclusion that you didn’t like his looks. You have seen such chaps: so have I. You can, therefore, form for yourself a mental picture of this one. Cogan was looking for Benny. The latter ap- pearing at his window and nodding permission. Tige—the pup—and his master plunged into the hallwav. and were admitted by Mason, Jr., into his sanctum. Cogan's first words were plain and to the point. “What arc you going to do about it? he asked as iie sank into a chair, and coolly relit his pipe, which had gone out during the journey upstairs. Do about what?” queried Benny, making a mis- erable attempt to appear surprised. “Oh. I know all about it. answered his visitor with a short laugh. Had it from the party him- self, you know, he added. Warned me to be- ware. lest I. also, follow in your footsteps. Savey?” Benny grinned feebly. And wliat are you going to do about it?” pur- sued Cogan. Do? repeated Benny dully. Yes. do! What are you going to do?” I don’t know. Leave town. I guess. Go to South Africa, the Philippines, any old place.” Nonsense, old man. said Cogan. Cheer up. How much do you need?” “Fifty dollars.” replied Benny with a gasp of hor- ror at the enormity of the bill. Cogan laughed loud and long. Is that all? he asked. Bennv looked at him in astonishment. Isn’t that enough?” he said. His visitor was silent a moment. He seemed a trifle uneasy. Mason.” he said abruptly, “Bob is a wonderful player, isn’t he?” Benny looked at the speaker in some surprise. “Of course.” he answered. He’s the support of the team?” “Yes. sir!” replied young Mason proudly, but still mystified. Take Bob away to-morrow, and what would happen?” The game would be lost, was Benny’s prompt reply. He went over and took a position by the window to watch for his brother. The conversa- tion had reminded him that it was almost time for Bob to return from practice. Cogan shot a stealthy glance at the young fel- low and hesitated. As he stood there, leaning against the window sill, stalwart and rugged, and big of limb, he looked so much like honest, true- hearted Bob that the tempter wavered. The strain told upon Tige. He got up from his seat upon the rug. and, going over to Benny, sniffed about his ankles. The boy turned and caught Cogan's searching eye upon him. Come. Cogy,” he said, out with it! When I see that look. I know you want some dirty trick done. Out with it! What is it this time?” Well, Benny. said Cogan very gently, if you want that fifty very bad. if you don’t want your father to know how you’ve wasted the money lie gave you to live upon---- He paused and puffed his pipe carelessly. Go on! cried young Mason eagerly. When Bob comes in and gets his pads off to- night. Cogan continued, you fix that old sore on his knee so that he can’t play to-morrow. An accident, you know. Push the door against it. or something of that sort. Lay him out somehow, and I swear you shall have fifty dollars cash to- morrow night.” From somewhere in the distance came the sound of Harvard cheers. Benny went across the room and opened the door. You must go, Cogan, he said. Bob is coming.” The first half of the great game was over, and the score 12 to 0. in favor of the blue. The little band of Yale rooters clustered in one corner of the bleachers made the air heavy with the sound of their cheering. The Harvard men were strangely silent. Down bv the side lines the Harvard captain and coach were holding a council of war. Without Bobby Mason,” the coach said sadly, we haven’t the ghost of a show.” The captain shook his head mournfully. We haven’t another man that can play in his position.” he said. I can. remarked someone in the circle of men about them, and all eyes turned upon the speaker. It was Bennv Mason. Whv, kid. said the captain kindly, vou re too light. That Yale fellow would kill you.” “Give me a show!” demanded Benny eagerly. 1 only want a show. You can’t be. beaten any worse than you're being beaten now. can you?” The boy’s earnestness amused the big captain. “Let's try him,” he said to the coach. As the kid savs. we can’t be beaten any worse than we are now. There's no harm in it.” Get into vour togs, young Mason!” was all the reply the coach made. But when the boy had