Somerville High School - Radiator Yearbook (Somerville, MA)

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8 SOMERVILLE HIGH SCHOOL RADIATOR day. as his time was taken up with recitations. It was o’clock, and the last recitation was almost over. Wcynian. who had given very little time to his regular studies in the last few days, had failed repeatedly. “Mr. Weyman,” said the master, “there is a little matter of about thirty lines of Latin which will. I am afraid, detain you after the bell.” Weyman, who had other plans for the after- noon. sank back into his seat with no very good grace. Along towards the middle of the after- noon he heard voices outside the open window. One of the speakers was Harris: the other he did not recognize. Hello. Harris!” shouted the unknown, have you got your purple dye made yet for the com- mercial chemistry course?” “Oh.” laughed Harris, “don’t say a word. I was in the ‘lab’ last night after a book, and I saw a test tube of dandy purple dye some fellow left outside his locker. I guess it belonged to some chemistry shark like Weyman; it won’t be any bother for him to make some more, so I just tipped the stuff into my tube. I guess he won’t miss it. and here the voices grew faint. Well! ejaculated Weyman. and then words failed him. Still. he said after a few minutes, thinking with a growing smile of satisfaction, I hate to think of what will happen when that young thief uses that strong acid for a dye.” IRobin Hbair ISy IDUOrefc %. BmiclL X., 'll HE was seventeen years old. with everything in the world that money could give her. except a straight body. She was a hump-back, a ter- ribly pitiful hump-back, and her small, wizened face, with its beautiful deep brown eyes and tender mouth, was even more pathetic than her mis-shapen body. Ruth Pare had come to Maynard Academy with a hope of finding one friend among the many girls. So far she had failed, and even the teachers bothered little out of class about the shy. deformed girl. So she went along week after week, month after month, a lonesome, unhappy girl, in spite of her well-filled purse. Ruth’s rooms were the best at Maynard, and were the daintiest in their furnishings. They overlooked the campus, and from their windows could be seen the new gym and the little ivy- covered chapel, and beyond that the lake, now covered with many small boats. The sitting-room was furnished in dark red. with heavy curtains. The divan by the largest window was piled high with pillows, and in each of the many easy chairs was a large, comfortable cushion. In the darkened bedroom beyond lay the little hump-back, her pillow wet with tears. From without came the voices of the girls, all bent on pleasure, with never a thought of the wretched little girl in her room upstairs. At each new sound Ruth’s tears started afresh, and her poor little body shook with uncontrollable sobs. Why wasn’t I born straight?” she moaned. Am I always to be friendless? Am 1 to go through life without a friend?” She wiped away her tears, and lay staring up at the ceiling. 1C very now and then her lips quivered and the tears gathered in her eyes, but they did not fall. She went over that dreadful scene in the schoolroom, where the girls had openly laughed at her. They were reading As You Like It,” and the teacher had thoughtlessly asked her to take the part » f Rosalind. Ruth, without raising her tear-filled eyes from her book, had murmured that her throat was sore, and had begged to be ex- cused. The hour had passed away somehow, and Ruth had hurriedly left the room. Just as she had passed through the door, she had heard Helen Lawton say: Ruth Pare as Rosalind! which speech had been followed by a peal of girlish laughter. Ruth rose from her bed, bathed her eyes, and went into the other room. She sat down at her desk by the window, and wrote a pitiful letter to her sympathetic father. While she was writing, a knock fell upon her door, promptly followed by the entrance of a pretty girl of eighteen. ()h! I beg your pardon. I thought it was

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SOvfERVILLE HIGH SCHOOL RADIATOR 7 H Cbcmtcal IDiecovcrv Cecil ID. SSarlow, IE.. HO EVMAX locked up the laboratory with a growl of discontent. “Seems as if it was always time to change periods when something worth do- ing turns up. he said. He crossed the card to the building where his next recitation was to be held, and as he did so he met young Harris. Harris was a youngster with a strong aversion to legitimate work, but it was said that he would cheerfully work twice as long on some device to conceal dates or formulae in his sleeve as it would have taken him to learn the dales or formulae: this, however, has nothing to do with the story, but is merely a sidelight on Harris’ character. ‘1 saw Weyman. said Harris, let's take the key to the ‘lab a moment, will you? I left my civics notebook in there. Wevman was particularly friendly with the pro- fessor of chemistry, and was consequently allowed to keep a key to the laboratorv. that he might enter at times when it was not in use. eyman thought nothing of the request, and handed the key to the eager Harris, with the injunction to re- turn it before the next recitation. That night Wevman dreamed of the pale ame- thvst liquid of unknown composition that he had left in the laboratory, and next morning he could hardlv wait until the first two recitations passed that he might show his discovery to the professor. Mr. Gray. he said to that gentleman a few hours later. I think I have a new salt of cereum that I should like to show you. Professor Gray, who was particularly interested in cereum, looked up from his work. and. seeing who the speaker was. arose and accompanied Wevman to the latter's locker. The class noted with interest the two hurrying down the room, as the professor seldom commenced his tour of in- spection so early in the period. Ah. Weyman! jibed one of the boys under his breath. Who got caught keeping candy in his locker? Now, will you do it again? Wevman paid no attention to the railleries of the class, but proceeded at once to open his locker, lie reached in for his test tube rack with the air of a conjurer about to perform a difficult feat, lie selected from the array of shiny tubes one that was smaller than the rest and tightly stoppered. He held it to the light: it was abso- lutely empty. Please, sir. stammered Wevman. I left the solution in there last night. I’m. said the professor, where is it now? And then, as a suspicion crossed his mind. You are not joking, are you. Wevman? Oh. no. sir! protested Weyman. Perhaps it might have—er—vaporized. hopefully ad- vanced Wevman. vainly casting round in his mind for an explanation. Yes. yes, quite so. it might, said Mr. Gray. Rut. sir. ventured young Hyde, who always failed in chemist rv. from the next bench, wouldn’t all that solution vaporizing blow off the stopper? “Yes, so it would, so it would: very good, Hyde, very good. and Hyde, being a wise youth, promptly subsided before he should say some- thing ludicrous. Well. said Mr. Gray. I can't spend any more time on this affair. You will have to find the solution yourself. I he class believed it was a joke on Weyman’s part, and treated.it as such. ou're a hero. Weyman! shouted one. “If you hadn't been wasting his time at your desk, he would have been over at my bench telling me how much I don't know about chemist rv. eyman. however, didn't pay much attention to them—in fact, he wasn't really listening, he was thinking of something far more serious. He knew that he had left a solution in that vial; he knew he had left the vial stoppered tightly: there was but one conclusion possible, namely, the solu- tion had vaporized and the gas escaped: but how had it escaped.' I hat was tlie question. A fain! excitement suffused Weyman: he had discovered a gas whose rate of diffusion was so high that it passed even through glass! Was it possible? It was possible theoretically, but—Weyman was too bewildered to think any more. Weyman had no chance to investigate the next

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SOMERVILLE HIGH SCHOOL RADIATOR 9 Helen Lawton's room. and she stopped in con- fusion. Ruth rose from her desk, her face flushed with embarrassment. “It's all right. Miss Lawton is farther down the corridor. The intruder was impressed, first by the sweet- ness of the little hump-back’s voice, and then by the sadness of the beautiful eyes. “I’m awfully sorry I intruded so. I am sure you understand. Do you know if Helen is at home or not? Ruth shook her head and smiled. “Xo. 1 do not. For some reason the girl lingered, and a faint flush crept up her checks. “Will it—will it be too—too forward if I — T stay a little while with you? she stammered. Ruth smiled and held out her hand, saying: “If you only knew how lonesome I've been. Come over on the divan. She closed the door, and then smiled happily at her guest, who was curled up among the cushions. “This is the most comfortable couch I’ve ever seen, and this is the dearest room in all Maynard.” the girl said. “I think it's pretty. Arc you a new girl? “Yes. I'm late in coming. Helen Lawton is my cousin. “Oh! Ruth jumped in her surprise. So this was Helen Lawton's cousin, whose coming had been the talk of the school for weeks! Xever before had Maynard had as a member the daughter of a well-known musician. “My name is Lorraine Adair, but every one calls me ‘Robin Adair.’ Now tell me yours.” “I am Ruth Pare.” “Are you the daughter of Pierre Pare, the writer? “Yes.” Helen didn't tell me his daughter was here. Ruth flushed and walked over to her tea table. I doubt if she or any one else here knows his daughter is here.” Robin looked up quickly, with a surprised look in her eves. “Why?” Ruth drew the table over to the divan and began making tea. Ask your cousin. Robin Adair. she answered. I understand. Robin said quickly, and then added doubtfully. “At least. 1 think I do.” They were silent while the water was boiling, and the little hump-back cut the bread in thin slices and daintily buttered them. Robin, you are the first girl in Maynard to step foot inside of my rooms. The girls don't know what they've missed. she said smilingly. Ruth, may I come often? May you? Oh. Robin Adair! and Ruth’s head went down among the tea cups. This was the first of many pleasant days. Girls began to find out the good times that were to be had in the little hump-back’s rooms. P y Thanks- giving time it was the custom for the girls to drop in for tea. ()f course there were some who cared little or nothing for the hump-back herself, but simply for the daughter of Pierre Pare, the famous writer. On the other hand, there were others who had learned to love the girl for herself: but of all these. Robin Adair reigned supreme in the French girl’s heart. Robin Adair sat playing her violin in Ruth's room one stormy afternoon in early December. The girls had all gone to their rooms, and the whole house was quiet. Ruth lay on the divan watching the rain beat against the windows. Robin began to play The Rosary. and Ruth sang it in French, softly, yet clearly. She forgot that Robin was there: she forgot everything ex- cept her great love of music. When it was fin- ished. Robin crossed over to her friend’s side and stood looking down at her. Ruth, why didn’t you ever tell me you sang?” she demanded. “I never sang to any one but father before. she replied modestly. Oh, Ruth! You've shut us out from the pleasure of listening to a wonderful voice like yours. Why have you? Ruth covered her eyes with her arm. and the tears rolled down her cheeks. Xo one would enjoy listening to a hump-back sing. she murmured. “Ruth, don’t! Robin cried, kneeling down, and drawing the dark head into her arms. “Please don't, dear. Why won't you sing for us? We all love you so. “You have made them love me. Robin Adair, and Ruth smiled out from her tears. P’raps, but. anyway, we love you. So won’t you sing for us? Xo. dear. Xot yet.” Robin was silent for some time, and they lis- tened to the rain and the wind. Finally Ruth