Somerville High School - Radiator Yearbook (Somerville, MA)

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SOMERVILLE HIGH SCHOOL RADIATOR 7 For simultaneously the mouth opened, the eyes closed, and a piercing shriek echoed through the laboratory. Preston started, while the little creature, as if alarmed by the sound of its own voice, puts its three-fingered” hands to its ears and raced aimlessly about the sink. Anticipating an accident, the chemist reached for a screen with which to prevent the creature from falling over the edge—but too late. With a sickening little thud it fell upon the cement flooring and lay still. Placing the lifeless figure upon a marble slab, he looked at it sadly, turned out the light, and retired. About six o’clock the following morning Preston was awakened by the crash of a breaking bottle in his laboratory. He hastened to the door and jerked it open with an excited hand. 11 is bare foot came in contact with a cold, clammy object which in appearance and size was very similar to the little manikin of twelve hours ago. He shud- dered as a second putty-like object struck him on the head, slid off, and lay helplessly still. The now terrified chemist reached for a revolver which he always kept ready, and with a hand ren- dered unsteady by rage, shot, one after the other, three more little figures that were scampering about upon the crowded shelves. To Preston’s horror, from each wound in the lifeless creatures a pair of little heads protruded, followed quickly by little spherical bodies and stringy arms, exactly like those of their predeces- sors. Then, for the first time, the chemist realized that he was powerless to exterminate this fiendish little tribe. He stepped cautiously among the dead bodies with their hateful offspring, and carefully examined the body of the first manikin. There, on its side, appeared a cavity which the chemist had not noticed at the time of its death. This ex- plained all. During the night the offspring of the first mani- kin had in some way been mortally wounded, and as Preston discovered, had multiplied pair upon pair. When, therefore, Preston had entered the laboratory in the morning, two creatures clamber- ing upon the door had been knocked down, and from their torn bodies four more creatures had emerged. Then, too, his active shooting had only made matters worse. In utter desperation the wretched chemist slammed the door and fled to.his bedroom. Thirty-six hours later Preston was awakened by cold water licking in little wavelets upon his back. Looking about the room, he found himself surrounded by a sea of floating furniture, books, and ornaments. Weak from lack of food (he had eaten practically nothing fqr forty-eight hours) he waded to the laboratory door and started to open it. He had barely turned the knob when the door burst open, allowing a torrent of water to pass through, that nearly carried his feet out from under him, and. what was more, Preston, to his great delight, counted twenty-two dead-manikin bodies in the flood. The manikins had accomplished their own de- struction. In the course of their many pranks these little creatures had turned on an emergency fire spigot. Their death by drowning produced no fruitful wounds. Albert Preston waded to the fountain of water issuing from the spout, and stopped further flood. And, as he walked from place to place opening doors and windows to drain off the water, he often repeated, half in reproach, more in a tone of grati- tude, I hank God, it served me right! s a I hereafter Albert Preston's researches took other directions. -----------•• ----------------- Mis “ H i Sister ” [Continued from page 5.] close to the bank, where, under the protecting shadow of the overhanging trees, it came to a gentle stop. A moment of utter stillness, then----- Did you, came softly in a masculine voice, now answer me truly. Did you drop that pen- nant purposely?” I lie other occupant of the canoe was silent for a long moment. Did you? persisted the masculine voice, re- lentlessly. She tried to appear indignant. Certainly not!” she answered with feigned haughtiness, but her voice, ringing guiltily, belied her. Put anyway. she continued, after a short interlude during which she was given no chance to speak in her defence, I knew who you were the first time I looked at you in the car. Jim had a picture of you at home, you know. Pitt.”—and he spoke reminiscently, thinking, doubtless, of that football game, it was very neg- ligent in Jim not to have had a photograph of lus ‘kid sister’ at college, don't you think so? He almost—” Patten checked himself sharply. Pm never mind that. We have much more profitable ways of spending our time than in such idle prattle, haven’t we, old scout?” He was address- ing the moon, quizzically, fraternally. That jovial, round-faced, old watchman of the night simply chuckled, winked, and nodded his appreciative assent.

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6 SOM ICR VILLE HIGH SCHOOL RADIATOR H IDangetrous Experiment 36 pbiltp 36. Xewfs, '14 EFORL. during, and since Albert Pres- ton's college career, he had con- , stantly taken huge interest in Scien- tific Research as to the Origin of Human Life. This novel study was one of the chief reasons for his en- tering upon a chemical line of work after gradu- ating from college. For eight years he had worked in his laboratory, a secluded building, located two miles from any other habitation of human beings; for eight years he had toiled on. ever encouraged by his firm be- lief that human life might be created by some scientific process as yet undiscovered. At last, having procured with great difficulty the tour elements which he considered essential t this creation of life.—even when all was ready, he still hesitated. Two of these elements the chemist was certain were explosives of unknown strength. He wondered whether the explosion of these elements would be slight r terrific. On the evening of the last day of the month of August, he lay down for a short nap before making the final experiment. In deep meditation he kicked lazily the afghan at the foot of the lounge. On the floor, by his side, lay several cur- rent magazines, while the evening paper waved uncertainly in the hand of the sleepy chemist. At length the hand fell relaxed, and the paper slipped from its grasp. A sigh escaped the reclining figure as the senses dimmed in anticipation of a refreshing nap. Put what was this that plucked at Preston's coat sleove? What horrible little fiend was this who, with beady eyes and bullet-like head, blew a cold, clammy breath in the face of the drowsv young man. climbed like a pet kitten over his blanketed figure, grinned at last a little ape-like grin, as with arms akimbo, it sat at the foot of the couch?. Preston caught up a magazine, which he hurled viciously at the squatting figure. To his surprise the creature had vanished. He sat up. There, near the foot of the couch, lay the magazine, partly ripped from its binding, with its cover slowly rising and falling in the gentle breeze ■from the open window. I»v degrees, he realized he had been asleep. The hideous little creature had existed only in his lively imagination. Preston slowly rose, yawned, and stretched his cramped arms. He ’.lien moved toward the door of his laboratory. The chemist was fully awake bv the time he had surrounded himself with rows upon rows of bottle-covered shelves. Above the acid-stained sink glowed a small in- candescent bull), whose feeble light made the rows of filled shelves resemble a miniature catacomb. The chemist placed four bottles upon a nearby shelf, while lie attached a test tube to an arm over the sink. Into this tube he poured measured quantities from each of these four bottles. While this solution was mixing, he bound a taper to one end of a six-foot pole. He then moved his electric lamp away from the sink, and placed wire screens around and on top of the framed test tube. When all was ready, the lighted taper was thrust between the side screens. There was a momentary silence, broken suddenly by a dull, smothered explosion, accompanied by the tinkle of breaking glass. Preston rushed to the sink and swept away the screens. There, on the bottom of the sink, crouched a figure scarcely larger than a young kitten. There, before him. were the same familiar pair of evil eyes: there, too. the singular bullet-like head with pointed ears set high upon its hairless surface; that little spherical body, from which weak, rope- like. elastic limbs sprung, was certainly that of a previous acquaintance. The chemist could not bring himself to touch the hideous object, so he poked it gently with a glass tube. An impression remained where the body was touched. Again he pressed it, and a second impression resulted. The chemist rolled the figure over upon its ugly little face, and stood watching it intently. Soon a wee hand stretched out along the bottom of the sink, followed by a slender, snaky arm with a bony elbow. Slowly the little figure raised itself to a sitting posture, and just as slowly the beady, squinting eyes sur- veyed the surroundings. At length they met the steady gaze of Preston, who gasped slightly as he viewed the hideous face that bore those eyes. He noticed, too, the gray-green body which every minute was adding to its proportions and won- dered when the sinister little object would cease to grow. Somehow, the chemist wished to kill the ex- panding figure, but it so resembled a human being that he could not bring himself to commit so ap- parent a sin. Then, again, the creature was so 'mall, though it was growing with visible rapidity. hen, at last, it had attained a height of fifteen inches, it seemed to have accumulated its normal measure of strength—and stood up. It was then that Preston became convinced (if he had entertained any uncertainty) that this new creation of his was supplied with vocal organs.

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8 SOMKI VILLE HIGH SCHOOL RADIATOR tEbc tables ZEutneb 36 Harlan ill. lUortIMev?, ’13 11 was one of those perfect clays in September which yet remind one »f the approach of winter. The sun, which was near the middle of its circuit, was alternately obscured and revealed by fleecy, leisurely-sailing clouds, and with them seemed en- deavoring t» warn us of the storms to come. Roger Newell and his brother Paul were sorting fishing tackle on the piazza of their father's farm- house in Central New Hampshire. “Guess this is the last chance we'll get to go fishing this year. remarked Roger. “Yup.” asserted Paul, dubiously. Spose that at this time next week we'll be plugging away at Greek, and trig., and chem., etc. Say, how does it seem to be a senior, anyhow? Feel too dignified to associate with sophomores like me? No, responded Roger, soberly. “The only trouble 1 can sec is in having you butt in with some silly problem or other when 1 am trying to get a strangle hold on a translation. Its always a case of senior help sophomore, but never of sophomore help senior. There, guess 'Old Solo- mon' won’t know there's a hook in that fly. What!” exclaimed Paul, “you don’t mean that you are going to try for 'Old Solomon do you? Why, the best fishermen in the village Have failed in trying to land him! I'll be content if I get one or two smaller ones myself.” Roger i njointed his rod. took an apple from a barrel on the piazza, and made after his younger brother, who had already disappeared around a corner of the cow-barn. They made their way in silence across the pasture, and plunged into the woods, emerging on the bank of the brook at a point about half a mile below the village grist mill. Here a series of shallow rapids terminated in a deep pool, with overhanging banks. Jiininv! exclaimed Paul, as he caught a glimpse of the brook. The water's about a foot too high, and running like a mill race. 1 guess something has happened to the grist mill dam. “Looks bad for the fishing.” commented Roger, “but we can have a try. anyway, and if we don't catch anything we’ll go up and see what is the matter at the dam.” So saying, he jointed his rod. and for half an hour they tried all the arts they knew on the fish, but to no avail. “Well.” said Roger at last, “one more try for me. I'm getting tired of this.” He made a cast clear under the further bank. It was a beautiful cast, and certainly deserved to be fruitful. Sure enough, almost as the fly t niched the water there came a splash, and the rod bent nearly double as the taut line zig-zagged back and forth in the water. “Wow.” yelled Roger, jumping up and down on the bank in his excitement, it's 'Solomon' all right. Feels as if I had the whole river bottom on the hook.” Play him easy.” cautioned Paul, or you’ll lose him yet. Cracky! What a monster he must be! Loth strained forward in the excitement, Paul trying to get a glimpse of the fish. Roger intent on the play of the line. Neither noticed their position. Suddenly Paul jumped back, crying: “Look out» Roger, the bank -------” Too late! 'Hie bank, undermined by the unusual flood, sank, carrying Roger and about two tons of dirt into the water. '1 he rod landed in the middle of the brook. I here.” said Paul, resignedly, “guess that spoils our chances of getting 'Old Solomon.’ He had no fears for his brother, who was a good swimmer, but stepped to the bank to help him crawl out. Roger was not in sight. Imagining a hundred things, Paul quickly stripped off his coat and shoes, and plunged in at the point where he had last seen his brother. He had scarcely made one short circle on the bottom, with outstretched arms, when he came upon Roger buried to the knees in the fallen bank. Working rapidly, he tugged at the legs with every ounce of strength in his body, and just as it seemed that his head must burst from lack of air. they came loose. Grasping his brother by the hair, lie shot to the surface, took a gasping breath, and turning over on to his back drew Roger's head to his chest, and swam ashore. It took him nearly an hour, using the methods which he had learned with his scout” patrol, to bring his brother back to consciousness, and when this was accomplished Roger was so weak that he could hardly stand, so Paul, by the aid of a magnifying glass and a piece of paper, kindled a fire, by which they sat and dried their clothes. Then they started for home. Roger's arm over Paul’s shoulder for support. “Hold on a minute.'' said Roger, stopping, where’s my rod? That’s so. assented Paul. I forgot all about it. The rod had drifted, and Paul reached it from the shore. The line had caught on a snag.