Somerville High School - Radiator Yearbook (Somerville, MA)

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SOMERVILLE HIGH SCHOOL RADIATOR 7 After this when he came he would chat for a while across the counter. But he kept on buying stale bread; never cake; never a pie. She thought he looked thin and pale, and she longed to add something to his small purchase. But she did not dare. She knew the pride of artists! One day the usual customer came in and laid his nickel on the counter, and called for the stale loaves. While Miss Matilda was reaching for them a fire engine clanged by and the artist moved toward the door as a person naturally will. On the bottom shelf was a fresh pound of butter left by the dairyman, and with a knife she made a cut in each loaf and in- serted a large piece of butter, and when the artist returned to the counter she was doing up the bread. When he had gone she won- dered if she had been too bold. For a long time her mind dwelt on the subject. He would prepare for his lunch of dry bread, He would slice into a loaf and then—oh! The front door bell jangled viciously. Some- one was coming in, making a great deal of noise. She hurried to the store. Two men were there. One was a young man whom she had never seen before, and the other was the artist. His face was very red and his hair was rumpled. His fists were clenched, and he was shaking them at no other person than Miss Matilda, and he was muttering strange French words she had never heard before. The other man tried to draw him away. “No, I will not go until I told her,” and so saying he pounded on the showcase window. “You have spoilt me, you meddling woman!” Miss Matilda leaned weakly against the shelves. The young man took the other by the collar and led him out. Returning, he said, “I suppose you want to know what the row is about. This man is an architectural draftsman. I work in his office. For many months he has been making plans for a new city hall. He had finished inking the lines yesterday. You know a draftsman always makes his draw- ing in pencil first. Then when it is done he rubs out the pencil lines with handfuls of stale bread crumbs. It’s better than rubber. He has been buying the bread here, and, well, today—well, you know butter—oh, well, his plan is simply no good now.” And poor Miss Matilda is now heard to sigh, “Oh! the ingratitude of men!” KAPPA ALPHA PI Gamma Alpha chapter has begun another school year in the same whirlwind fashion that has been characteristic of the fraternity in former years. A dancing party was given at the Heincmann House on October 9, and was a success both socially and finan- cially. All of the seventy-six brothers who were in the service, a record of which we are proud, have returned with new ideas to bring us into closer brotherhood and co-op- eration. As has always been the case, “Kappa” is well represented on the football squad by Captain “Jack” Reardon, “Steve” Patten, George Dowd, “Nick” Chase, and “Jim” Ryan. Dowd is now out of the squad, as he broke his collarbone at practice. The last school year was one of the most successful in the history of the chapter. A small dance at Grantunbry Bungalow on December 7, 1918, a bungalow party at Fitzedward Bungalow on February 13, 1919, and a large dance at the Heinemann House on May 8, 1919, completed the so- cial events of the year. These were all a great success, both socially and financially. Kappa Alpha Pi hopes that the activi- ties of the coming year will bring the fra- ternities into closer co-operation with each other, and with the faculty, and also wishes to pledge its support of the faculty for the coming year. At a meeting of the Inter-Fraternity Council of 1919, the following rule was passed: “No recognized fraternity in Som- erville High School shall pledge a man be- fore the issuing of . the second report card of his sophomore year.”

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6 SOMERVILLE HIGH SCHOOL RADIATOR ashen-white face, with large, agonized, burning eyes and a bitter smile. I think that it was then that I became semi-con- scious. As in a trance, I saw the hat in her hands. I saw her face vanish, the body, and finally only its hands remained. The hands thrust the hat into the opening where it fell at my feet. The ghastly hands then pushed the oak panel in place. After a few moments of complete stupe- faction, I roused myself and stumbled to my room. Some three or four hours later I solved the problem of the hat as I sat trying to puzzle out the tangle. At the time that I was at the inn, there was a lady living there, who had worn that very hat to a garden party. The next night, she had told me that the hat had strangely disappeared. This, then, was 'Hie hat which had disap- peared. without a doubt. These events seemed so absurd, that I began to feel my- self living in a veritable land of mystery! In the morning 1 told my story to the hotel guests. When I had finished, a young scientist spoke up. He said that it was very evident I couldn’t have been dream- ing, so there was only one answer to the problem. “Don’t you see,” he continued, “that this is a case of the materialization of a spirit? Absurd theory, but the only one that can be made. I connect it with the history of this house with which you are all familiar. The finery-loving Quaker girl materializes in the night, after the established customs of ghosts. She finds Mrs. Harrington’s beautiful hat and steals it, hiding it day- times behind the oaken panel, where Mr. Towning hid.” “So,” said Mr. Towning, “I was forced to draw that conclusion, for it has never been explained otherwise. That is certainly the strangest experience I have ever under- gone,” he concluded. We all agreed with Mr. Towning that the story was most strange. And as the rain pattered noisily on the roof of the little cot- tage, I peered fearfully into the dark cor- ners of the room, half expecting to sec— the young Quaker girl with her white face framed by the picture hat! THE KIND-HEARTED MEDDLER Josephine E. Murphy, ’21 Miss Matilda Gifford kept a little bakery on the corner, the one where you go down a few steps and the bell tinkles when you open the door. Miss Matilda was thirty-five; she pos- sessed a bank book with a credit of two thousand dollars, kind gray eyes and a very sympathetic heart. Two or three times a week a customer came in, in whom she became interested. This was a middle-aged man wearing spec- tacles. His beard, slightly gray, was neatly trimmed. He spoke English with a French accent. His clothes were worn and darned in places, but he was neat and had excellent manners. His purchases always amounted to two stale loaves. Fresh bread was five cents a loaf. The stale loaves were two for five. One day Miss Matilda saw a- reddish brown stain on his finger, and then and there she decided that he was an artist and very poor—no doubt he lived in a garret and ate stale bread. As said before, Miss Matilda had a very sympathetic heart and she could not help thinking of the poor artist eating his lonely meal of stale bread. In order to prove the theory as to his occupation, she took from her room a paint- ing that she had bought at a sale, and laid it against the shelves behind the bread coun- ter. It was 'a Venetian scene, and she thought no artist could fail to see it. Two days later the artist came in and asked for ffie stale bread, as usual. “You have here a fine picture, madame,” he said while she was wrapping up the bread. “Yes?” said Miss Matilda, smiling gracious- ly. “I do so admire art and painting.” “Ze balance is not in good drawing and zc shad- ing are too dark.” So saying, he took his par- cel and hurried out. “Yes,” Miss Matilda thought, “he must be an artist,” and she took the picture back to her room.

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8 SOMERVILLE HIGH SCHOOL RADIATOR EDITORIALS Vacation is over and vvc arc once more taking up our tasks in school, preparing ourselves for our life'work. The schools have opened at the regular time. No epi- demic of infantile paralysis is threatening the children of our country, and no pesti- lence holds the country in its jaws, devouring hundreds of thousands of our nation’s best. The cruel war, which for four long years held the world in a merciless grip, destroy- ing millions of brave, young lives, ruining hundreds of happy homes, and wiping out millions of dollars worth of property, is now a thing of the past. Germany, instead of fulfilling her boast of conquering the whole world, has met a most crushing de- feat. Yes, the war is over, but the world is by no means at peace. In Russia and Ger- many, Bolshevism rules with its bloody sceptre. In many of the other European countries the governments are constantly changing. The affairs of Japan and China are in upheaval. This world-wide feeling of unrest pervades even democratic United States and England. In the United States we are threatened with Bolshevism. A well-known editor has said that “Bolshe- vism is no longer a specter in the United States. Boston in chaos reveals its sinister substance.” And this condition of affairs, although vividly portrayed in Boston at the present time, has spread throughout the whole of our great country. What is it but Bolshevism without blodshed when a few thousand electric car operators are allowed to strike and tie up a city of hundreds of thousands, for entirely selfish ends? Sev- eral of the great cities of this country have been tied up in this way. Coal miners’ strikes; steel workers’ strikes; woolen work- ers’ strikes;—strikes of a hundred different kinds all add to the critical condition of the country. The great police strike in Bos- ton is treason. No doubt the men had grievances, but they had no right to strike. Using the words of His Excellency, the Governor of Massachusetts, “The men are deserters. This is not a strike. The men were public officials. The desertion of these men furnished the opportunity; the criminal element furnished the action. There is no right to strike against the pub- lic safety by anybody, anywhere, any time.” A cartoonist in a prominent newspaper rep- resents disorder, crime, and violence wel- coming the striking policemen as their ally. But the striking policemen in Boston are beginning to realize that they had to deal with a strong man when they came into conflict with Governor Coolidge. As they see the new police force being organized they will realize even more that they have committed an act which is more than mere child’s play, and they must realize that some other move would have been better than de- serting their posts in such a critical time as the present. With this great feeling of unrest pervad- ing our country, it is the duty of each one of us to work our hardest and to do all within our power to stamp out the awful be- ginnings of Bolshevism. Therefore, schoolmates, let us get together, study hard, and prove that we stand for true Americanism, not letting outside affairs turn us aside from our daily task. We arc glad to announce to the school that in spite of the high cost of publication, we hope to be able to return to our old style of coated paper, without advancing the price of subscription. Don’t fail to get a copy or two of the “Radiator” each month. The “Radiator” staff wish to thank the teachers and pupils who so willingly helped in our subscription campaign. On Wednesday, November 3, Colonel C. H. French will give one of his famous illus- trated lectures, for the benefit of the “Ra- diator.” In this lecture, entitled “Rome,” he will build Rome before your very eyes, in a most wonderful way. He pictures the city from its very beginning up to the pres- ent day.