Somerville High School - Radiator Yearbook (Somerville, MA)

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10 SOMERVILLE HIGH SCHOOL RADIATOR A murmur of applause rolled through the court, and 1 felt my record was clear. Overcoming my pride. I kept my head bowed in an humble position. “Rise! It is given you to choose some gift. Choose wisely, and your desire shall be granted; otherwise, perhaps Death shall reward your foolish pride.” Lull of joy, I raised my head to show my grati- tude. and then bowed it again. What should I wish for? A hat, a Yale vs. Harvard ticket, or an automobile? Nay. I had it! A rush of memories of sleepless nights, of headaches and heartaches came over me, as I thought of my story due the Radiator. Oh. worthy king, if I might express my wish, I would for the power to write a story. What could that murmur mean? It had no ap- plauding ring, but why not? Mad I not chosen wisely? Child of earth, great has been your mistake. Had you been intended for an author, the gift would have been bestowed long ago. Authors, like poets, are born, not made. Rut let these authors, some of whose works arc good, others bad, decide your fate.” He pointed to his left, and there among a great number I saw Shakespeare. He stepped out from the rest, and immediately three old women came toward him. As he whispered to them, the glance which they gave me awakened a great fear in me. Again they glided away, murmuring as they went:— Trouble, trouble, come and double. Fire burn and cauldron bubble.” Then Shakespeare spoke to his companions, but so low that I could not understand him. His audi- ence seemed pleased, and all said, Yea. vca.” He continued, and I heard:— if it were done, when it were done, Then it were well if it were done quickly.” Shakespeare turned to Jupiter and addressed him. ■ lie king looked at me very sternly, and said:— “Oh, feeble soul, your doom has been decided. You must drink from the witches’ cup. They alone know the result.” A cold, damp feeling came over me. I felt my last moment had come when I saw the witches re- turning. So cold and fearful had I become that I did not notice that any one was speaking. For the first time 1 listened:— I never believed, as I state in my essay on Addi- son. in harshly criticising women authors, and now I would plead for this child. She is de- ceived bv the false glitter, and is too young to be allowed the privilege of choosing a gift. That she kept a secret. 1 believe, was a mere accident; but keep it she did. Therefore, I say, allow her to re- turn to earth a sadder, but wiser, girl.” A silence fell o er the assembly, but at last Jupiter said:— Macaulay’s plea has attained its object. Be- gone. before our minds arc changed. You arc free.” One of the witches dropped the cup, and. as Mer- cury hurried me away, she screamed:— You’ll never write a story!” The crash of the cup seemed to double and triple as it echoed through the court. I turned to Mer- cury to ask if the prophecy was irrevocable, but, instead of seeing the messenger of the gods, I be- held the mighty column of books from whose depths I had been imbibing knowledge fallen in chaos on the floor by my bed. THE MAN OF RED AND BLUE. By J. G. H„ S. L. S., '03. With his myriad host of satellites. Admiring friends and chums, The greatest of our “shining lights,” The gridiron warrior comes, With hair a-clot with mud and gore, With a broken bone or two. With nose in pieces three or four, And eyes of black and blue. He’s lacking much of sanity. And a yard or so of skin. His cars arc sought with vanity On the field by happy kin. He’s the idol of society. The deity of youth, Emblematic of propriety, A Chesterfield, in truth ! The golfer lays his sticks aside To grace the conqueror’s march, Equestrians no longer ride In pomp and generous starch. The tennis crack is on the shelf, The yachtsman,—on the beach, The mobilist can prove himself To be quite out of reach. The cyclist rides in solitude, The sprinter sprints in vain, The baseball player’s “somewhat crude,” And has an addled brain.” But the footballist is just the thing, So full of force and vim. Of all great fav’rites, he’s the king, V hen will his sun grow dim? I-Ie’s the pet of femininity, And, girls, it’s up to you To support your new “affinity,” The Man of Red and Blue.

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SOMKRVILLK HIGH SCHOOL RADIATOR 9 TWIXT GODS AND MAN. By M. M. B., L. H. S., '03. CTO HER FIRST is a date long to be remembered among the red-letter days of my life. How triumphant I felt as I reviewed the day! Had 1 received by card the mystic sign for excellent or good. or had 1 led the home basket ball team to victory? Xo. my wiser feelings told me to postpone the subject of school reports as long as possible, and as for basket ball, I had led the opponents to victory by a foul. Yet I was happy: very much so. in fact. I had kept a secret! Had I not heard. “A woman never can keep a secret ? Oh. the joy to feel that, as an exception. I had proved the rule. The next day I felt like a mighty conqueror, as I resisted all temptations to confide in my dearest HAD KEPT A SECRET.’’ friend. That night my room seemed filled with a hum and rustling. Was it my imagination, or did the hum really swell into a triumphant song? Yes. I became sure that some mysterious creatures were singing of my glory! Soon, from out the darkest corner, glided a figure. I did not scream because I recognized the features. It was Catiline. Al- though somewhat reassuring to know my visitor, yet I thought of his crimes and feared. Was he going to kill me? Nearer and nearer he came. and. at last, leaned over and scanned my face. My hair began to rise and stood on end. I suppose his breath caused it to do so. 1 lark ! he was speaking! “Would that mv comrades had been gifted with silence! Then, oh Cicero, you would never have been able to insult me in the senate! His words were followed by a groan, and then the conspirator walked back to the corner and dis- appeared. 1 was surprised to feel how hot and thirsty I was, but, of course, 1 was not frightened. (ireat was my relief, however, that my night’s sleep was not interrupted for several weeks. But at last a night came when, as I lay thinking of Cati- line. 1 heard a noise at the screen, and soon realized that there was another person in the room. He hardly seemed to touch the lloor. so lightly did he walk. I knew by his dress and features that he was no Roman. I looked more closely and beheld little wings on his cap. Those wings gave me the clue, and. after a keener glance. I fully recognized Mer- cury. the messenger of the gods. Oh. daughter of the human race, the favor of Jove has fallen upon you. The great father orders you to obey his commands. I shall come to lead you to his presence. Before I could ask any questions, he had with- drawn. I thought I heard some one at the win- dow call Pridie Kalendas. Now I understood that on that date he would come again. I»v the help of a Latin grammar. I found out that Pridie K alendas would probably mean October thirty- first. Impatiently I awaited the messenger’s return, but I heard nothing for a week. 1 was so excited that I could not get to sleep on Hallowe'en. Would he really come as he had said? What did Jupiter want of me? Soon I heard the same noise, and. looking around. 1 saw Mercury. He told me to throw a mantle about me and follow him. This I did, not daring to question him. After we climbed out of the window, he produced a pair of sandles with little wings on the heels. He stepped upon a moonbeam, and I tried to follow. I nearly fell, but bv his help I became more accustomed to the little steps, and progressed rapidly. After a while we came in sight of a great golden castle. We left the moonbeam, and seemed to flutter toward the building. When we came to the walls, the gates opened, and Mercury walked quickly into the court. I hur- ried after him, not daring to look either to the right or left. 'The majestic form of the king towered above all his courtiers, as he took his seat on the dazzling throne. I was surprised to see the people surround him and appear perfectly at home. Mer- cury explained that, on Hallowe’en night, the great king held a reception. There was no time for more conversation, for Jupiter addressed me. Arc you. oh being, so strong to resist tempta- tions, or did some goddess help you? I could not answer, try as I would. Would all my glory fade? Surely he would believe me guilty of some artifice if I did not answer. Once more I tried, but in vain. Yea, oh great and glorious majesty, king of us all. I have fully investigated, and have found that she has, unaided, kept a secret.”

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SOMERVILLE HIGH SCHOOL RADIATOR 11 A GOLDEN MESSENGER. By May H. Baker, L., '03. IIE fresh green of the summer leaves was changing to the golden brown of autumn. Vacation was over, and much too soon it seemed to Miss Lelia Cummings, as she stood on the wharf at Camden, watching the ap- proach of the steamer which was to carry her back to her duties in Boston. It seemed unusually hard to leave home this year: for the vacation spent on the old farm had been an extremely pleasant one. And then, too. her mother was growing old and feeble, and as Lelia said good-bye. it was with a sharp pang of grief that she noticed how wan her mother's face looked. Rut after the last farewells wore waved, and the great boat had pushed its way out into the river, she settled herself in her camp could sec in her imagination his face beside that of her mother. Indeed, his cheerful countenance and frank, boyish smile had haunted her to-day, and when the long, tiresome journey was over, she stepped on the Boston wharf with a sigh of relief. When I get to work 1 shall feel better,” she said to herself, as she unpacked her trunk. !t was not until that night, on raising her hand to take off her locket, that she found it was missing. In dismay she searched in every conceivable place, lint in vain; it was gone, and little did she dream of the mission upon which it went. « o few days later, a tall, sunburnt young man stepped off a ship onto the Boston wharf. His head was bent in thought as he walked along, and YIELDING TO A BOYISH LOVE FOR THE SEA. HAD LEFT HOME. chair on deck, and tried to think of the year of work ahead of her. But. in spite of herself, her thoughts would wan- der to the dear old home nestling among the Cam- den hills. She saw the little sitting room, with its great open fireplace and comfortable rocking chairs, in one of which she could see her mother sitting. Over the mantelpiece opposite hung the picture of her brother, who, yielding to a boyish love for the sea. had left that happy home. I low she longed for him to return and cheer tip the sad and wrinkled face he had left behind! And. as she thought, Lelia unconsciously unfastened the locket which hung about her neck, and gazed at the pic- ture of her mother which it enclosed. The locket, too, was dear to her. as her brother George had given it to her just before he went away, and she he iiardlv noticed his companion who was walking by his side. Finally, the latter said : George, what are you thinking about? Aren't you glad to get back to Boston ' Yes. said George, but this trip has been a mighty pleasant one.” I have enjoyed it. too, and---” Rut what's this?” asked the other, and as he spoke he picked up what appeared to be a piece of brass. I don't know. replied his friend; it looks like a piece of dirt to me.” But.” said George, as he saw the dirt removed from the article to the sleeve of his coat. I guess it's something gold.” [Continued on lwigo 23.)