Somerville High School - Radiator Yearbook (Somerville, MA)

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SOMERVILLE HIGH SCHOOL RADIATOR 9 The First Test of the Khaki MURIEL WARDROBE. CLASS 1919-A. Room 305 OBERT ATKINS, resplendent in his new suit of khaki, the kind we like to see on young men nowadays, was walking down Main Street; his well- shaped head crowning a tall soldierly figure. He was a fair, rollicking boy, that any mother might be proud to call her son. But the pity was that Bob’s mother had only lived long enough to see her boy wear a little khaki cow-boy suit, and even that had thrilled her with pride. Robert Atkins senior had to be both mother and dad to his soldier son. As we were saying, Robert junior was walking- down Main Street. It was a great day in the old town. The boys were to leave for Plattsburg, and all the town had turned out to bid them a tearful farewell. Bob looked at his watch, it lacked ten minutes of one and the parade was due to start at two. He had more than an hour to roam through his favorite haunts and bid his dearest friends good bye. But fate decreed otherwise. When he passed ‘‘Old Faithful,” as they called a large oak tree which stood at the beginning of a little stretch of woods like a sentinel guarding the smaller trees from any possible harm, he heard muffled voices. Two men were deep in conversation, they were behind a clump of bushes so that Bob could not see them; he would not have stopped had he not chanced to hear a phrase of their conversa- tion, “when you throw it be sure—” but here an automobile passed by and Bob lost the rest of the sentence. He waited, but the two men hav- ing completed their plans came out of the bushes and walked down the road, not noticing our hero at all. Robert Atkins, born adventurer that he was, scented trouble and resolved to follow these men They led him a long way, until they came to a fork in the road, then in lieu of formal fare- well the older man said to the younger, “Be care- ful.” Those two words were the clue to Robert, who felt sure that the younger man was the one who was going to commit the deed, as the older had warned him to be careful; therefore, Bob fol- lowed the younger man. This time he did not have as far to go. When the young man reached a tumbled down shack he hurried in not stopping to look around him. Bon had been very fortunate so far in not being seen by the two plotters and continued to keep care- fully out of view. He went around to the back of the shack and cautiously peered into the win- dow. The sight was enough to frighten even an older and braver man than Bob, and his knees shook as he glued his eyes to the pane. What he saw was a large room full of wires, ropes, boxes, and tools, which alone were not very dangerous, but on a table, over which bent the young man, was a round, evil looking object which, of course, Bob recognized at once. The young man had taken a box and was extracting from it another one of these awful balls. He carefully put it to his ear and shook his head eagerly as if anxious to begin his deadly work. Bob sensed the plot immediately. There was to be a great company to bid farewell to the soldiers. Marching with them would be General Edwards, the General of all the North Eastern army. These men were spies and had resolved to kill the General and a good part of the regi- ment. Robert carefully planned what he should do; he was very glad he had worn his suit as he had his revolver in his pocket; he determined to go to the front door and await the man’s exit. Then he would order him to put back the bombs and take him to the General. He hurried to the front of the building and held his revolver in position: in a few minutes he heard footsteps and a second later, “Put down those things this in- stant or you will be shot!” he said in a calm, even tone. The man jumped and turned pale under the keen gaze of Bob, but he set the box gingerly on the ground. “Now put up your hands and walk before me,” ordered Bob. The fellow could only obey and he did with the cold circle of steel pressed against his back. Thus they walked in silence until they reached the edge of the wood. Here the young man’s nerve left him and he cried in an imploring voice, “Let me go boss, for the love of heaven, let me go!” But Bob had no idea of letting him escape so ordered him to keep straight on. On they went, up a back street which was quite deserted, the residents all being on the Main

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8 SOMERVILLE HIGH SCHOOL RADIATOR cat scooted off as fast as his feet could carry him. Mrs. White at once sensed the situation, but not so with Mr. White, who was staring with expectant eyes, awaiting the burglar's appearance. He was sure that his wife had gone out of her senses when he heard her laughing and of course she had to set his mind aright, after which they re- tired once again. In the morning the twins at once began a con- fused tale of the burglar while at their breakfast. “Yes, and he must have been hungry ’cause he went in the pantry and broke the dishes,” said Patty. “Ah! that explains the missing steak and the broken dishes,” said Mrs. White laughing, and she amused the children with the story of the burglar who had broken into their home. The Tune of the Whistling Buoy KUTH BOOTHBY, 1919-A, HROUGH the stillness of the night came the long, shrill, weird tone, which sounded like the cry of the eagle as it swoops down upon its prey. A little boy of ten years was seated at the window in the garret of his house wondering what that strange noise could be. Outside a severe gale was blowing, and the rain was beating against his window pane, sounding as if each drop would break it. Not far from his home was the ocean’s edge, and jutting out into the water was one of the most dangerous points for miles along the sea-coast. He had not had the opportunity to visit this part of the coast very often, because his mother was very careful to keep her eye on him so that he could not get away from the house without her knowing in which direction he went. Up to the present time she had not told him that the merciless sea had taken away her beloved husband. She was waiting for the time to come when he should be old enough to understand what she would tell him. At the same time she was hoping that he would not get the notion into his head that he wanted to be a sea-captain or pilot for vessels as her husband had been. This was the reason why she was so careful about her boy whom she loved most dearly, and with whom she would not part for all the world. All night long the storm raged and in the morn- ing the clouds cleared from the sky and the sun appeared above the horizon heating up the land, and bringing cheer into the homes of those who were old enough to know what peril a storm such as the night before brought with it. The first sign of life in this “by-the-sea” home was little Billy, who came running downstairs to ask his mother about that terrible whistling he had heard in the night. His mother would answer him simply by saving that the sound which he had heard was The tune of the whistling buoy.” Years passed by, and little Billy was now a man. alone in the world, having lost his dear mother a few years before, but still remembering what his mother had told him about the merciless sea. One day, while he was wandering by the sea, a tall, rugged man stopped him, asking if he were ac- quainted with the shoreline. Billy answered with a smile that he had lived by the sea all his life, but until recently he had never had an opportunity to become acquainted with the shore. The stranger was intending to establish life- saving stations along the coast in this neighbor- hood, and thought Billy would be just the man to place in charge of them. Billy was very pleased, and when the stations were built, he took his new position. Everything went on smoothly, and Billy was proving to be an excellent seaman, when one night, a fierce storm came up, and two great coal schooners were wrecked. On account of Billy’s skillfulness in ordering and managing the boats that were sent out, no lives were lost, and great honor was shown Billy. He was the hero of the wreck. This led him to believe that he would like to be a sea captain. Therefore he resigned his posi- tion at the life saving station, to the sorrow of his companions, and became a great sea-captain. He now thought a great deal of his dear mother, and how she tried to keep him from the sea. He looked back and understood everything now, and he learned the “tune of the whistling buoy.”

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10 SOMERVILLE HIGH SCHOOL RADIATOR Street waiting for the parade. With no delay Bob led his captive to the very steps of the police sta- tion, and here who should they meet coming down the stairs, but the General himself. He was very much surprised at the sight and followed Bob back into the station. Here the whole story was told in front of the Chief of Police, the General and his staff. The fellow was locked up and Bob drew a long sigh of relief. The General came up to him and shak- ing his hand said, with tears in his eyes, “Well, boy, you have probably saved my life and that of your fellow comrades,” and, pointing to a flag hanging in the room, “That flag is proud of you.” Bob’s face flushed with pride at the tribute paid to him by this great man and resolved in his heart that he would always make that flag proud of him. Some time later, when the parade was over and the news of his adventure had been circulated among his comrades, he was cheered and cheered by the admiring fellows and to crown his service he was presented with a medal of bravery by the General himself. Thus Robert Atkins ended his first adventure in military life. Uncle Sam’s Gift to Boston ELSIE CHRISTINE ANDERSON, 191S-B ■ OSTON can now boast of a skyscraper with the same pride that the New Yorker feels when he glances up a: the colossal structures of the Wool- worth and Metropolitan Life buildings. No directing hand is needed to point to the visitor this new Custom House Tower. It is a huge spire of steel and masonry, its great shaft of gray granite rising five hundred and five feet above the street level, displays its strong and beautiful lines to many of the nearby suburbs, and far down the harbor. This is Uncle Sam’s greatest gift to Bos- ton and will emphatically be the tower. The old Custom House, to which this huge apex has been added, was completed in 1847, and for many years was one of the architectural gems of Boston because of the increasing demands of commerce and traffic the service outgrew its quar- ters many years ago, but not until 1908 was any effort organized to replace or to enlarge the build- ing. After an exhaustive investigation, the com- mittee appointed found that no site could be ob- tained for less than the amount averaging from $ 1,000,000 to $12,000,000. Soon Beekham Winthrop, assistant secretary of the Custom Ser- vice, then in Boston, suggested that the old Custom House be retained, and the addition be carried upward, as had been done by the Citv Bank of New York. This request met with the general approval, and was also cordially approved by the Chamber of Commerce. After a hard fight, Congress appropriated the needed amount and the construction of this wonderful tower was commenced in June, 1910. The tower has twenty-eight stories, each floor having outside dimensions sixty by seventy-five feet, so that it is not as slender as it appears, and its pointed tip will be (for years to come) the topmost roof of Boston. The foundations of the original building were not disturbed, but in the central portion six con- crete cassions were sunk to a depth of one hun- dred feet below the street level. At this point the massive steel framework starts, 3,500 tons in all. The walls of the Tower contain 120,000 cubic feet of granite. The total load, which rests upon the cassions, amounts to 19,008 tons. The great clock of the Custom House Tower comes just below the 24th story. There are faces on all four sides and a dial measuring 2 l feet in diameter. The numerals are copper shell, 3 feet high and set in an 8 inch concrete, each numeral having a glass face. Back of each face is a hemispherical chamber about 2 y2 feet deep, with a glazed, white, reflecting surface. The beacon is illuminated by means of a flood of light in each chamber, from fifty-two 150-watts Mazda lamps arranged behind each of the clock faces. Now let our glance drop to the twentieth story, and there are the four huge stone eagles. Do they not stand as the emblem of our strength and vic- tory? “What a wonderful architectural feature!” we say to our guide. Just think! Nearly four