Somerville High School - Radiator Yearbook (Somerville, MA)

 - Class of 1915

Page 13 of 328

 

Somerville High School - Radiator Yearbook (Somerville, MA) online collection, 1915 Edition, Page 13 of 328
Page 13 of 328



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Page 13 text:

SOMERVILLE HIGH SCHOOL RADIATOR 7 light shining in. I tried to turn my head, but the pain was too great. What an experience! I had often wished for excitement, and now I had it—a midnight ride in an aeroplane, lost in the darkness, captured and now a prisoner in a Mexican jail. As I was thinking over these things and wondering where Parker was. the door opened and a swarthy individual stepped quietly in. placed a plate of bread and a mug of water on the floor, and disappeared as quietly. It seemed hours that I lay in this condition, when suddenly I heard the distant boom of cannon 1 Could it be true? Perhaps Parker had returned safely and was coming to my rescue! A great battle would be fought; 1 would be freed and-------“Charles. Charles.” I heard someone call. The cell seemed to fade, the cannon’s roar grew faint, and looking around 1 found myself comfortably seated in a large armchair in my own home. It had all been a dream! I looked down at the newspaper on my knees proclaiming in big headlines, “Vera Cruz cap- tured! Aeroplanes a great aid to our vie- 3-ci'i'V), Cumt 's assistant S wab Ingham, 1916 06 ATE one summer afternoon, Molly was returning from the village where she had been with a basket of butter and eggs. She was seated in a high express wagon and Jerry was jogging along to his heart’s content. Suddenly she spied some luscious berries by the roadside and quickly she sprang out of the team. “I will only stop a few minutes,” thought the pretty maid, “and old Jerry will be all right. These berries arc really too good to leave.” She picked some berries and then wan- dered into the wood, where she plucked some wild rosebuds, with which she made a pretty wreath for her hair. Down the road came a large touring car, and in it was seated a young man dressed in white flannels. He was a young lawyer from the city, who was spending his vacation in the neighboring village. As he came to the bend of the road, he suddenly put the brake on his car. for there across the road was a horse and wagon, and the horse was nibbling grass. Jack, for such was the young man’s name, tooted the horn, but old Jerry, unconcerned, continued his nibbling, and gave an occasional glance at the goggled driver. The tooting of the horn continued and sud- denly a dainty maid emerged from the wood. Her black, glossy hair, crowned with the rose- bud wreath was somewhat disarranged, and tiny curls played saucily around her temples. On her arm she carried a basket of berries. hat a picture, thought Jack. “Oh. I’m so sorry that I have delayed you.” said Molly, but Jerry is just so stubborn, he won’t move for any one but me.” “I don’t blame him.” thought Jack. “There, let me help you turn the team around,” but old Jerry only moved for his mistress. Molly jumped into her wagon and was soon on her homeward way again. Jack spent the following few days in think- ing of a way to find out where the little maid lived. “If I had only asked her,” thought he. One moriting while speeding along the road, he noticed a large old-fashioned farmhouse on the hill. Me was very thirsty, and as country people are hospitable, lie thought he would stop and ask for a drink. On nearing the door he heard a sweet voice singing, and upon knocking once, who should appear but his girl.” She was dressed in a large white apron, and a snowy cap sat jauntily on her head. Jack was too surprised to speak, so the girl, who recognized him, asked him in. Not only did he receive the desired drink of water, but comc delicious cookies, which she was baking, and a glass of creamy milk. It suffices to say that this wasn’t the last time that Jack visited the farmhouse, for hadn’t he found “his girl”? Early the next summer there was a pretty country wedding and the two chief participants were Molly Fairfield and Jack Wellington. When they started off on their honeymoon it was old Jerry who carried them to the sta- tion.

Page 12 text:

6 SOMERVILLE HIGH SCHOOL RADIATOR hallucination IRnjmonO 3S. S)avison, 1916«B T was just growing dusk as I stepped avly on the balcony adjoining my IMfiml ronni- A few people loitered on le Mreet below, and a sentry v could be seen pacing slowly up and down on a nearby street. All was well and quiet, save the oc- casional rattle of a wagon on the pavement be- low. or the distant strains of a familiar air played on a mandolin out on the Plaza. The day had been exceptionally hot. and the cool air felt good as it blew up from the ocean. Vera Cruz, that city of tumult and war only a few hours previous, was now resting in peace. Someone said. “A gentleman to sec Mr. Jor- dan.” i turned and beheld a mere boy wait- ing for mv answer. Yes. I would see him. It was probably some officer wishing for an in- terview. I stepped below to the reception room, and to my pleasant surprise saw Lieuten- ant Parker, an old friend of my younger days. We talked for a while, and then he asked me if I wouldn’t like to go out to his ship, the Montana. I was delighted with his invitation, and on the way to the wharf he told me that he had become an aviation expert, and only a few days before had been made chief of a squad of air men. Stepping into a small naphtha launch, it soon brought us to the side of a gray monster of the sea. We boarded this, and arm in arm strolled around the deck until we came to the stern, and there, to my surprise, was a full-size aeroplane. Two mechanicians were hammer- ing and tightening wires, seemingly preparing for a midnight flight. After examining this wonderful bird of the air Parker turned to me and said. “Well. Jordan, what do you say to a little ride to-night?” I waited a moment, gathered my courage, and replied as carelessly as possible. “Why. yes. I should be delighted.” Really, 1 had no desire to risk my life and es- pecially at night, but 1 had answered, so acted accordingly. Parker got in. prepared a seat for me beside him and started the engine. I waited breath- lesslv for the start, and in a moment we began to move. Out across the waves we sped, about fifty feet from the water, and then we rose. I had forgotten my nervousness, so easily did we sail, and before long Parker and I were chat- ting as calmly as if we had been riding in a street car. I could not see very well, but Parker seemed to know just where we were going. Suddenly he said. “Look down. Jordan.” I looked and saw the city, hundreds of feet be- low. with its few dim street lights and shad- owy buildings. We sailed perhaps for fifteen minutes without a word, and now as I looked at Parker he wore a worried frown. Was something the trouble, and he didn’t want to tell me? But no, he was an expert aviator; everything must be all right. The roar of the engine was so deafening, that I didn’t think I could hear his voice if he should try to speak, but suddenly I felt his hot breath in my face and heard him say. “Keep your courage. Jordan, we’ve got to drop. I can’t seem to turn her.” I said nothing, but almost instantly the most sickening sensation crept over me as we dropped, and dropped, and dropped, until I thought we would never stop. Then she righted herself for a moment, only to shoot down at a more terrific speed. “The worst is now over.” I heard him say. Yes, I believed him. but if my life had depended on it 1 couldn’t have answered. It seemed as if I were paralyzed. T he worst was really over, for the airship circled prettily twice and we slowly came to earth. Parker jumped out. but I climbed out very slowly. It seemed as if I had lost all con- trol of my limbs. After walking around a little as best I could 1 felt better and at Parker’s suggestion we de- cided to spend the night in relays. I was to sleep while he kept watch, then I was to re- lieve him. It was rather gruesome out there, everything was so quiet, and in my imagination I seemed to sec Mexicans in the distance, creeping softly towards me. I was so alert and nervous, that it was impossible to sleep. Parker had strolled away, and was now lost in the blackness that surrounded us. 1 wanted to call him. but that would have been foolish. Suddenly to my left I heard a voice, then another, and as I sat up quickly, my arms were pinioned to my sides, my legs tied, and my mouth gagged before I had time even to struggle. I could see a gun butt raised to strike and then I knew no more. When I regained consciousness I was lying on a stone floor in a small room just large enough to move around in. There was a window somewhere, for I could see a ray of



Page 14 text:

8 SOMERVILLE HIGH SCHOOL RADIATOR t bc Persian IRitg iKleu 3. Itomenfta, 191(5 8 L L“5 ,.ELL. Peg?” H Yy j Oh. Daddy. Mr. Russell wants to D lSbii sec the big one. He doesn’t know a thing about rugs, but he picked this out of the set 1 showed him.” Peggy’s eyes, to her father’s surprise, were dancing. However, he did not see anything in that statement to bring her joy. “I told you not to take that photograph, daughter.” He spoke slowly and dispiritedly. ”1 thought that would be his choice if lie wanted any. and we haven’t fourteen hundred dollars in the bank to put up for it.” “Never mind about the money. Daddy dear.” With this assertion. Peggy ran across the office to her father, rumpled his hair and gave him an encouraging squeeze. “If Mr. Russell wants that Persian rug. he will have it. I told him he could have it. but I also told him that we couldn’t get it here without at least a guaran- tee of expense, and lie gave me his check for fifty dollars immediately. About how much money could you get on a ‘return order’?” “We have four hundred odd in Hie bank. Peg, that’s all. And Basso Brothers have all our notes that they will take. We’ll just have to let the chance go by.” “We will just do nothing of the sort. Daddy.” Peggy Hayden was emphatic. “You know that poor Tom needs that trip this summer, and the profit on that rug would--------oh. it would do lots of pleasant things. I’m going out now to get the other thousand dollars.” “But. daughter, you------” But Peggy had gone. Her father sighed and shook his head. When Mr. Hayden’s fortune had been swept away in a panic, he had been brave enough to begin business over again, and held his head high even at the sign “Hay- den Daughter. Rugs and Antiques.” which had caused so much comment upon its quaint- ness. Mr. Hayden had been forced into the business of rug-collecting to support his in- valid son, who. the doctor said, must go abroad in the summer. In spite of the good man’s fears. Hayden Daughter succeeded— how much because of Peggy’s energy, no one, perhaps, but Peggy herself knew. “But then,” she confided to her crippled brother, “what’s the use of having half a col- lege education if you can’t make good? Rugs and antiques are all father knows, and I know more about them than anything else, and that isn’t much.” Peggy demonstrated that, if she didn’t know much about rugs and antiques, she could learn. One essential reason for Hayden Daughter’s prosperity was that Peggy never could wait to have people come to the store, but if they ever asked to see a certain article and promised that they would buy it some day. the young sales- woman would send letter after letter to their home, thus making the customers remember their promises, and procuring sales. Buyers knew that when the firm guaranteed a rug or bronze carving, the article was of value and worth buying, and Peggy guarded this reputa- tion as her greatest and most valuable stock in trade. Now came the opportunity which Mr. Russell saw only as a calamity. Peggy had. in her own words, “tackled” Mr. Russell, whom she coveted as a customer, and succeeded in get- ting him to “bite” on a photograph of a beau- tifully colored and designed Persian rug. It was a huge, antique pedigree, priced at $2,250. Basso Brothers wanted to sell it at wholesale for $1,100 and ship it from New York on a “return-if-unsold” agreement. “And where is she going to get the thousand dollars----” Poor Mr. Hayden shook his white head, and drearily went to a drawer to pore over a bank book. “It is all fixed. Daddy,” she cried, some time later, as she rushed into the room. “Now come over to the bank, and we'll send the draft; and the rug will come, and Mr. Russell will buy it, and Dmi shall have his trip, and you can keep that silk Mecca you want so badly, and I’ll have a new dress, and-------” Peggy stopped short for want of breath and Mr. Hayden stood looking at his daughter as though some ghost had shadowed his path. “Daughter, what are you talking about? Where did you get the money?” “Win. Dad! Where would I get it? From the bank, of course. I went to Mr. Prentiss, the president, showed him the check from Mr. Russell, told him what I wanted the money for. and showed him the photo of the rug. Me said it was very unusual, but he said he’d sign the note for the second name himself. I--------” “Peg. I can’t believe it. Why, it isn’t good business. And Mr. Prentiss of all people. Peg-----” “Don’t look at me like that. It’s really so. You haven’t forgotten that I roomed with Molly. Mr. Prentiss’ daughter, at Wellesley, have you? There is more than one way to make an omelet, if they all do start with

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Somerville High School - Radiator Yearbook (Somerville, MA) online collection, 1912 Edition, Page 1

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Somerville High School - Radiator Yearbook (Somerville, MA) online collection, 1914 Edition, Page 1

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Somerville High School - Radiator Yearbook (Somerville, MA) online collection, 1916 Edition, Page 1

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