Somerville High School - Radiator Yearbook (Somerville, MA)

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SOMERVILLE HIGH SCHOOL RADIATOR Vi THE LIBRARY DEPARTMENT By Beatrice Ulen Perhaps you will wonder when you read this article why the Library Department is not de- voted to library notes and I will tell you. Very few of us really notice the many works of art about the buildings, or if we do notice them, we do not know whom or what they represent. We are going to bring to your attention the pictures and pieces of statuary and try to in- terest you in them. It is a great privilege to be able to see these celebrated works even if they are only copies, and it is worth your while to know them, and some day you may go to Europe, where you will find most of the origi- nals. Nor frequent does the bright oar break The darkening mirror of the lake, Until the rocky isle they reach, And moor their shallop on the beach. But where is that rocky isle? It would be difficult indeed to see if we had to travel to Scotland for it, but there is an easier way to see that same isle that Scott made the trysting place of Ellen and Malcolm in his narrative poem, “The Lady of the Lake.” We can view Ellen’s Isle, as Scott saw it, and drink in its beauty, and perhaps recall and live again that romance of courtly chivalry in its true setting. It would be a difficult task to picture that enchanting place in words, but Hunnewell de- scribes it well in his “Land of Scott.” He writes: “It is rather high, and irregularly pyramidal. It is mostly composed of dark gray rocks, mottled with pale and gray lichens, peeping out here and there amid trees that mantle them,—chiefly light graceful birches, intermingled with red-berried mountain ashes and dark-green spiny pines. The landing is beneath an aged oak; and as did the Lady and the Knight, the traveler now ascends ‘a clambering unsuspected road,’ to the small ir- regular summit of the island. A more poetic, romantic retreat could hardly be imagined, it is unique.” Why not find this isle for yourself and see if Hunnewell exaggerated its beauty or did not do it justice. It can be found in Room 110. How have you pictured Scott as you have been reading his works? Perhaps you have pictured him entirely different from what he really was, so why not make sure how he really looked so you’ll always recognize him when you see his picture. If you take the trouble to go to Room 110 you will find his picture, and you will probably be surprised. You will see a man to whom your heart goes out. You can seem to read health, courage, and good nature writ- ten upon his kindly face, and somehow you seem to feel a little sad to think he is not liv- ing now so you can catch a glimpse of the liv- ing Sir Walter Scott. What is as dear to a Scotchman as heather? The poets all sing of it and authors write of it, yet many of us have no idea of how truly beautiful it is. In Room 110, also, there is a pleasing colored picture of heather, which will give you an idea of what beautiful scenes there must be on the hills of Scotland when they are covered with these exquisite purple flowers.

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12 SOMERVILLE HIGH SCHOOL RADIATOR On the poetry page this year we hope to set before our readers many good poems which are worthy of attention and which will make this section one to look forward to each month. We expect many new contributors. “Clouds,” by John Pierce, is beautiful for the picture which it unfolds. “Ego,” by Monica Cotter, is an example of free verse in an un- usual style. Beatrice Bates’ poem, “Come Away!” with its natural appeal, and “Where the Poplars Kiss the Sky,” with its colorful imagination, are in direct contrast to one an- other. Francis McCarthy. WHERE THE POPLARS KISS THE SKY I will meet you bye and bye Where the poplars kiss the sky. We shall be alone again Far from hastening hordes of men, Men who grasp and turn and go Leaving blood-stains on the snow— Men who lie and steal and hate Crushing love-bands in their wake. We shall see God’s tender solace Written in dear Nature’s face. It may be hard to wait, I know, For the years creep, oh, so slow And you—you have gone before! But I will meet you bye and bye Where the poplars kiss the sky. Beatrice O. Bates, 1926 COME AWAY! Come away from city streets, From the toil and pain and anguish Of a million struggling men, Slaving yesterday, today, ever and again. Come to where the blue lake sparkles, Come to where the sunshine calls As it falls upon the waters And blinks upward at the blue! Come awav from citv streets. E’er the chains and bits and halters Of a million struggling men, Slaving yesterday, today, ever and again, Grip you with their craving fingers And you lose the game. Oh, come away! away! away! Come to where the blue lake sparkles! Come to where the sunshine calls As it falls upon the waters And blinks upward at the blue. Beatrice 0. Bates, 1926. EGO “What is this self of mine?” I ask. I know it not. Yet others know it. And I know the ego of others. Strange, oh, so strange! It seems to me. Still, I know not why. A something not to me as others are. Has it the faults I so readily detect in others? Has it any of the charms, the attractions? I know not. No mirror can reflect this self to us, No words of others tell us true The barefaced facts of what we are. Who can tell me why The one I know most I know least? Ah! God, God alone, can tell us true Of the Ego, the soul, so deep within the self. We mortals cannot see. And this God, so mighty, so strange Wills not so, until his own time When each shall know his own true naked Ego. Monica Cotter. CLOUDS O’er yon dusky pine tree’s lofty head, Above the bank of leaden hued mist, Upon the crags themselves they seem to tread, Clouds with hill-tops haste to keep their tryst. Clouds, gleaming snow-white ’gainst the blue Billowing mystic shapes for our delight, Gliding past our gaze as if they knew Their glory showed our great Creator’s might. John E. Pierce, 1927.

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14 SOMERVILLE HIGH SCHOOL RADIATOR SENIOR CLASS NOTES Three cheers! We’re Seniors at last, but we'll have to admit that it does seem but a day since we were but little Sophs. We Seniors have one great advantage. There are no stairs for us tc—shall we say scale?— when the morning bell rings. We tried to find the Senior with the best sunburn after vacation. We can’t decide whether the prize should go to Edith Foy. Cath- erine Croy or Bee Ulen. But on second thought, perhaps it should be awarded to Martin, with another prize for Priebe. We learn from a bright Senior history class that The Pontifex Maximus was the chief en- gineer of Rome! Cataline was a hill in Rome! A tribune was a paper printed for the people! To be a United States citizen, one must be at least two years and not over seven years of age! Certainly originality is not lacking in the class of ’26—or shall we call it imagination? The Senior Traffic Squad members find some of the Sophs so small that sometimes they can be heard and not seen! Rufus Holmes: “My, but I love history! Why, last night I ran over two hundred pages when I heard the call to dinner!” Tomfohrde: “What prevents snoring in French class?” Wedlock: “Shutting ofl' the radio before 2 a. m.” Burbank (reading Darwin’s life): “Man de- scended from monkeys.” Edkins (looking at Cromwell): “That’s right.” Cromwell (looking at Edkins): “Quite so!” Eleanor: “Didn’t I see you at the movies last night?” Barbara: “Of course not. 1 always spend my evenings in study!” Eleanor: “Then will you come over and study with me tonight?” Barbara: “Sorry, I’m going to the show.” Irene H.: “Seems to me this car is crowded!” Very weak voice of Soph, underfoot (trying to recover a nickel): “I’ll say it is!” The Senior appetite for hot dogs must have increased with age. We notice that three a day are consumed by some. Miss W. (demonstrating in geometry class): “Is this a plane surface?” Fisher: “No, it’s a waste paper basket.” Why—we want to know—did so many Senior boys spend the summer acquiring very loud and striking sweaters? Perhaps on special in- terview, Dick Berry, Bud Levinson. Dick Wil- liams, Jimmy Cutler, Rus Perry, Eddie Giroux or Nocky Sargent might tell us. They say every worm will turn, so perhaps that’s why book worms turn pages. Scene: Miss B’s French class. Enter Todsen speedily. Miss B.: “Why are you so slow, John?” J. T.: “The elevator wasn’t running, so I had to walk up stairs!” Miss B.: “How would a wheelbarrow do, John?” Why is it, we wonder, that Division III Eng- lish C is so fond of heavy tragedy? Brodil: “There’s one thing I’m economizing on this year.” Colburn: “What is that?” Brodil: “I don’t need smelling salts this, year, now that we don’t have chemistry.”