Somerville High School - Radiator Yearbook (Somerville, MA)

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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.

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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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SOMKRVILLE HIGH SCHOOL RADIATOR 9 but after much pulling this came off the bottom, was reeled in. and untangled from the line. Hut still the line was taut, and puzzled, he quickly reeled in. To his amazement, instead of the frayed end he had expected to see, “()ld Solomon’’ appeared. By some miracle the line had held, and ------------ the big trout had worn himself out in trying to escape. He was easily drawn ashore and strung on a twig. As they again started homeward Roger laughed weakly. “Well. Raul, that was a rare case of sophomore help senior. B Sail on tbc 36a? JSy Cliff orb Ik. Ibernck, '13 VERYTH'I XG was quiet in the house. Curly and I were studying in the den. Outside the rain tapped dismally on the roof of the piazza, and ran in little rivulets down the window-pane. The wind was whistling in the trees, and blowing the umbrellas of adventurous pedestrians inside out. In short, it was just the kind of afternoon to make one glad to be in a snug, warm den in a morris chair, rather than out in the cold and wet. Curly laid down his chemistry, and yawned. I yawned in sympathy and also laid down my book. ■ Gee! I wish we were back in camp again,” said he. “Same here! I replied with emphasis. “Xo such luck though. A long pause followed. Say! Curly!” “Huh?” You ought to have gone out sailing with us that afternoon, instead of playing tennis.” I didn’t play tennis,” he answered. “You kid- naped the girls and George didn’t come over. 1 went up the Tanyard Swamp, gunning. I didn’t get anything, either. What happened out sail- ing. anyway?” ()ne could tell from his tone that he didn't think much of my ability as a sailor. Well! I replied. “Several things happened. I'll tell you about the trip. “About two o’clock Edna and Lou came down to the tent to see if we were going for a sail that afternoon. Of course 1 said. ‘Yes.’ and Don echoed my answer. We went over and got the Dragon ready while they went over and got Susie. “There was hardly wind enough to take us out of the cove. It was blowing about southwest and there was no room in the river to tack on ac- count of the fleet anchored off the yacht club. 1 went right amongst the fleet, heading f r Rat- Rocks. “We had almost cleared them when the Redfin, the big racer, not the cat boat, dropped her mooring and started to make sail. The tide carried her right across our course and I jammed the tiller hard up. which tacked us across, our boom raking the deck of the Playmate, of the Boston Y. C. The girls were almost ready to jump overboard from fright. Just as soon as we got clear I tacked back again, but we had lost too much to make the rocks. We kept on across however, but when we started to tack again, we went aground on the bar. The tide was too low. “All I could do was to try my best to go between the rocks. The wind had breezed up quite a bit. but we cleared the rocks all right and started out between the beach and the bar. After that it was great fun. The wind was against the tide, and the waves were about five feet high. The Dragon would go away up on one wave and come down slap on the next one. Don was sitting up forward, with his back to the mast, when we buried our bow- sprit in a big comber. Some of it ran off by the scuppers, but most of it ran down the back of his neck. Holy smoke, wasn’t he mad! Yc went up past Essex and were just oppo- site Ipswich when it started to blow a gale. Edna was sitting to leeward on the middle seat. Lou was opposite her. Don was sitting at the foot of the mast, and Sue was beside me. at the tiller. “Well. 1 never was so scared in my life! The masthead went over till it almost touched the water, and we shipped half a boat full. “I let her come up quick and yelled: ‘Let go the jib sheet. Don.' She righted and we lay in the trough of the waves. As soon as possible. I got over an anchor, which held us up to the wind, and prevented us from being capsized by the waves.