Somerville High School - Radiator Yearbook (Somerville, MA)

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IO SOMERVILLE HIGH SCHOOL RADIATOR sang softly a low, crooning lullaby of her own composition. The shadows lengthened, and the night closed in. The room grew dark, and the fire on the hearth burned low, yet the girls did not move. Suddenly Robin turned Ruth’s face towards her. and asked: “Ruth, in return for what you say 1 have done for you. will you sing for my father and for us girls?” The fire gave one last leap and then died down. The wind howled and wailed, and the rain beat against the windows furiously. “It's the least 1 can do in return for all you’ve done for me. Yes, Robin Adair. I will. The girls in the house were all surprised to hear a voice, full and sweet, singing an old. dearly- loved song. ()ne by one the doors along the cor- ridors gently opened, and the words of Robin Adair came clearly to them :— “What’s this dull town to me? Robin’s not near. What was't I wish’d to see, What wish'd to hear? IBoncst or SHsboncst Bv Bapbasar He Baobbtflian, 'll surroundings. His bright countenance took on a sterner look, as if he were condemning—face to face—the author of a certain sentence with which he strongly disagreed. He even thought aloud: You curse against eternal truth. The motorman. as if on an impatient quest, was making time. Before he put on the brake, lie quickly turned a sharp corner and threw Mr. Jones to the opposite side from where he was standing. One of his hands went through the window. The broken glass cut his arm and face, and in a critical condition he was carried to the hospital. In spite of sensational reports, Mr. Jones returned from the hospital in two weeks, chiefly to attend the suit brought in his behalf. His wounds were still bandaged, but the danger mark was passed. Slowly walking up to the court on the trial day, curious Mr. Jones noticed a leaflet, which he picked up and read. He paused and read again. His every action and appearance showed much interest in his discovery. Without realizing it. he had reached the court S a car approached the black and white sign post, I will see you at the church next Sunday, remarked a tall man politely to a forlorn- looking lad. and. with a smile on his face, mounted on the approaching car. Before the car had stopped, the conductor rang the starting bell, and the motorman, quickly turning the brake, muttered: Those funerals. . . . Is a corpse more important than a living man?” I he irritated state of the motorman’s mind pre- vented him from realizing the kind greeting of our friend. He had even forgotten to notify the con- ductor of the new passenger’s ride. Mr. Jones meditated over the sermon he had heard, while he in vain held his car fare in his hand. The conductor did not relieve him of it. Temptation crept in. A sharp mental discussion followed, and Mr. Jones finally decided to keep the nickel. Once more Mr. Jones was lost, this time on his magazine page. He had focused his thoughts on his reading, and was no longer conscious of the Where’s all the joy and mirth Made this town a heav’n on earth? Oh! they’re all fled with thee, Robin Adair. “What made th’ assembly shine? Robin Adair. What made the ball so fine? Robin was there. What when the play was o’er. What made my heart so sore? Oh! it was parting with Robin Adair. “But now thou’rt cold to me, Robin Adair. But now thou’rt cold to me, Robin Adair. Yet him I loved so well Still in my heart shall dwell. Oh! I can ne’er forget Robin Adair.”

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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

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SOMERVILLE HIGH SCHOOL RADIATOR 11 house. There were many spectators anxious to see the railway company condemned. During the trial everything seemed to be against Mr. Jones. He was in extreme restlessness, and the court, of course, ascribed it to his wounds. The hopes of Mr. Noble had turned to despair when he began bis arguments. As lie spoke, his timidity turned into resoluteness, and his clear-cut logic and eloquence opened a new phase of the case. After a lengthy discussion of the case, the jury returned with the verdict in favor of Mr. Jones, and the railway company was to pay the de- manded sum. liefore the judge, who announced the verdict, had taken his chair. Mr. Jones rose from his seat like a despairing man to defend liis honor. He had resolved to trample everything else for truth’s sake. He stood mute and trembling: finally in a low voice he said: “Gentlemen of the jury, ashes of another’s ruin have never been the peaceful foundation of a happy home.” Here Mr. Noble trembled. lie did not know what the “idiot” meant. Rut Mr. Jones went on: “An invisible thistle in the flesh is apt to be more harmful than a gash.’’ Lack of coherence in his speech convinced the spectators that the severe- ness of the pains of his wounds had made him crazy. N et he continued: Truth never forsakes us if we do not forsake its demand.” This time he felt the mental state of his lis- teners toward him. and he said in haste: I dis- covered a five-cent piece in my pocket, and, anxiously searching my account books to place that nickel in its proper place, I found that that money was my car fare on the day I got hurt. This piece f law book, which I found on the wav coming here, says: i5y pacing your fare on the cars, you form a contract with the company to carry you safe to your destination.’ 1 found the fare in my pocket. Although very kind of you. justice demands of me to trample my tempo- rary interest, and I will say that I don’t deserve the decision, and I stand for all the expenses. after saying which he took his seat, while the audi- ence applauded him with great clamor. H (Slutet Et'ternocm By? Brooks IReefc, 'll , HK drowsy little village of Stamford . I lay sweltering in the hot afternoon •V CI v i Sl,n- Miss Ann Hutchins had been r Ci working hard all morning doing her .Jl£EL—Monday's washing, and now. tired out. had sought rest and repose in her bedroom. The dark green shades at the win- dow flapped idly as a cool breeze from the neigh- boring mountains swept over the village. The stillness was unbroken save for the droning of a locust and the rumble of a passing wagon. Surely. Miss Hutchins thought, she would enjoy a quiet afternoon. P ut her thoughts of rest were rudely inter- rupted by a step on the veranda below and a ring at the door. I wonder who that can be. she thought to herself as she rose from the bed. I'pon opening the door, a dapper young man presented himself, and began : “Good afternoon. madam. 1 have something here which I am sure will interest you.” drawing at the same time a small bottle from a bag which he carried, “f am the introducing agent for the-----” “W ell, you may as well be the president of the I’nited States, for all I care. 1 don’t want no hair oil. stove or shoe polish, patent medicine, or anything under the sun except to be left alone, snapped Miss Ann. “Lusteritc Polishing Powder Co..’’ the young man. nothing dismayed, continued. “I have here a trial bottle which only costs the small sum of twenty-five cents, a quarter of a dollar. It is war- ranted to polish silver, gold, bronze, copper, tin. zinc. iron, steel, nickel, and. in fact, any known metal under the sun. Show me the way to the kitchen, and in a few seconds I will demonstrate the excellent qualities of this powder to you. “The only place I will show you to is that door there, and now you go! burst out Ann.