Somerville High School - Radiator Yearbook (Somerville, MA)

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18 SOMERVILLE HIGH SCHOOL RADIATOR Stuff, Stuff, and I’lus De Stuff Jean Stackpole supplies the gag that “she was one of those suicide blondes — dyed by her own hand.” Be that as it may, school has its moments, and one of its most momentous is Jeannette Lee, to whom we are indebted for the following:— Judge: “Who was driving the car when you hit the store window?” Drunk (triumphantly): “None of us, we were all in the back seat!” And here’s yie from Phyllis Down, one girl with whom you can’t match wits. (We don’t recommend that you tell this to your English teacher.) Squire: “Did you send for me, my lord?” Lancelot: “Yes, make haste; bring the can opener. I’ve got a flea in my knight clothes.” Irving Isinger is still hanging around the school. This summer he played clarinet with the First Corps Cadet Band. He’s never gotten over the last issue last year. He’s vowed vengeance on “those dirty dogs, the class editors!” And so, we could keep rattling on for several more pages, but neither time nor space will permit it. In our next we’ll be back with several other topics for con- versation, including Jasper Parigian, Robert Rowe Cammon, and Emma Lussier. Until then, watch out then for two big, bad, bold men, the class editors. Advertising Section Ad. If you think you’re in doubt, just see Sausage Engstrom. Then you’ll be certain — that you’re in doubt. Ad. Wanted: Nice fellow equipped with car. Ap- ply to any female. Still another. Wanted: 6,000 new plain and fancy gags. Apply to editors of this column. More Ad. Wanted: Nice new fire alarm with habit of ringing 55 very often. Deliver T. A. G. I. (try and get it) to Somerville High School. 1933 At last, being fully established, the lowly Sopho- mores pause and look around. Seniors to right of us — Juniors to left of us — Teachers in front of us — have mercy on us! The rooms have been like a Chinese puzzle waiting to be put together piece by piece. Oh well, we’ll learn, even though it is by mistakes that we do so. There- fore please forgive us for wandering into a Senior English class or a Junior algebra when aiming for Sophomore French. Ah — but you were once Sophomores too, so why tell you about it? You were probably just as bad — if not worse. We’ll get used to it all, don’t worry. Meanwhile, look us over! Can you imagine one Sophomore girl who insisted she didn’t pass Latin last year and didn’t wish to be put in Latin II. Prob- ably Caesar. How odd! We all love him so! Then there’s the boy who, when he isn’t whistling,, is chewing a pencil. Why not try writing poetry and chewing rubber for a change? What would you do if you were an English teacher under the following circumstances:— Teacher: “Give me a sentence illustrating the same principle, only please don’t give ‘The man made the dog bark,’ which has been given about forty-eleven times so far.” Bright boy: “The man made the cat meow.” Oh! Miss C., if looks could only kill! Oh, yes — we’re a smart class when you really know us but you see it takes time to get used to the idea. But — oh. Most High Seniors and Not quite So High Juniors — when we get started, wish us luck and watch our dust! Honest, it hardly seems possible that we’re up here at High School at last. But here we are and here we’ll stay even if the Juniors and Seniors don’t think so, for we are the class of ’33. We have heard of T. B., but this T. S. is a new one. Some of us, on the first floor, were mistaken for Seniors. Tsk, tsk. Yes, we have been told all about those nonchalant P. G’s. Those windows, oh, those windows. Some of us are still trying to find out which string to pull. We hear they are going to install miniature golf courses in some rooms for those not interested in study periods. Here’s to the future Bobby Jones. We find that “Wee” is not the French for yes. What a shame! When you are in the East Building and are told to go to the West and awake to find yourself wander- ing about in the middle, the best thing to do is try to find the room yourself. Never trust a traffic of- ficer, because most of them are Juniors and Seniors. We hear many things from our big??? brothers and sisters concerning the fact that our Junior year will be the hardest. They WOULD give us something cheerful to look forward to!! Sophomore: “Where is the drawing room?” Traffic officer: “The drawing room isn’t open. We aren’t holding any reception today.” Teacher: “II mi chiama signorina G—. (My name is Miss G- .). Come si chiamo? (What is yours?)” Boy pupil: “11 mi chiamo signorina G—. (My name is Miss G—).”

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SOMERVILLE HIGH SCHOOL RADIATOR 17 A LOVEP, oe 0FF£N«3E CARDS— A 50MeRy(LLe HAS ONE OF THE sear teams it has hao (AiyeiAR-s we ARE ALL BACK TROD OUR UACATION WITH A HEALTHY COAT OF TAAI «OWHEy SHINE' BAVE WOU START£0 ON THE GJ H •ROPES — Mb' '30- Which brings to mind the fact that we are now the Junior Class. Continuing in the general movement of going up in the world our class notes have advanced one space on these much-veared three or four pages. But. alas, there the class theme song stops, since your twice benighted column has again fallen into our hands. Everything was going fine, and then — but life is like that! Summer Good, Summer Bad? (The Gags?) Hope you had a good vacation. Here are a few facts you wouldn’t think were true, but being facts, what can you expect? Imagine if you will: Irving Isinger riding the Hying horses at Nantasket. Roger Carpenter pitching hay in a little Vermont town; Carroll Throensen as a cute little messenger boy in our imposing State House; Johnny Palmer cutting his none-too-massive front lawn at a speed which should have enabled him to finish in a week or two, and J. Leo Gormley, the reformer. Then, too, this talk about lack of prosperity is all wrong. Look at the business miniature golf is doing. (You should see Karl Ernst play it; when he finishes digging, the course looks as if it had been hit by a combination Verdun, Chateau Thierry, and Gettysburg.) Look at the big business the lawyers are doing, espe- cially those who specialize on bankruptcy cases. (Af- ter you’ve finished with Red Cross, Class dues, Radia- tor, etc., you’ll be next in the line outside their offices.) But don’t tell us about the lack of prosperity; all this country needs is a seven cent nickel, shorter school hours, and more men like Lane and Levenson. And then again, Lane and Levenson. These two are frequently seen together. In fact, they really ought to go in the canned goods business, with the name they could work up. The Double L. Canned Goods line. Think of that — over the whole country. Yes, sir, they ought to get canned; I mean, ought to go in the can- ning industry. Things You Never Knew Till Now That Mrs. Topliff will say that “till” in the above title is incorrect; that the ice cream sold in front of the school is (as rumor rumes) made from 2% skimmed milk, l'.v water, 97f vacuum; that William Tesson plays, and plays well, four instruments, and can whistle; that xanorphica (pronounced za-nor-fi-ka) is a musical instrument, something like a harmoni- chord; that you like to be called “sophisticated” with- out knowing what the word really means; that some sections have thirteen study periods while others have only three, which would seem to prove that “there ain’t no justice”; that “St. Louis Blues,” hottest of all hot blues, has been sun-tanning people for seventeen years, has been recorded on phonograph records over eighty times, and has sold more than a million copies. Such popularity must be deserved, Mr. Classical-Fan- atic!

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SOMERVILLE HIGH SCHOOL RADIATOR P. G. NOTES WELL, folksies, here we are again (or should I say still?). Perhaps we had better introduce ourselves to those who unfortunately do not know of the “Ancient and Honorables,” known to many as the Post Grad- uates. Perhaps among the best known on our list is THE James Boyle (I said perhaps) and he informs us that he is here for serious intent, namely to prepare for Bowdoin (the college, not the ship). As there is no one else of im- portance we now take great pleasure in intro- ducing “hizzoner,” John H. Pierce (and this is what I call a scoop — no! not soup, but scoop). Then there is Ira Prouty, whom you all re- member (I don’t blame you if you don’t). Paul McSweeney, G. Clifford Stamper, eminent bi- ologist; B. Frederick Sensullo, distinguished Latin student; Louis Parker (you know, giYls, one of THE Central Parkers), and last, but not alto is Diran S. Dinjian, the boy with the warble. Well, the above mentioned are all to be Tufts guys (I hope the English department overlooks that unbecoming bit of slang — but you know how English departments are) and when I say tough I don’t mean Boston Univer- sity where, if we venture inside its portals a year or two hence, we will find Miss Mary Small, Miss Bertha Marshall (sorry I can’t think up some appropriate bit of poetry), and D. Eddie Matherson, that big, virile, redhead from Oshkosh. Sorry, but we accidentally over- looked Master William Higgs, who is going to B. U. He says he hates to ride in patrol wagons but they will do in a pinch. But it is an ill wind that blows no good and this time it is a Northeastern, where we hope to even- tually find such celebrities as Cecil Creelman, the red-hot ice man, and Edward Towry, who was prominent among the stars last year — I mean astronomy. Charles Bowden hopes to attend Harvard (yeah, you guessed it — Har- vard Square). Ed. Philip Jackson has the high- est aspiration yet. He sets his cap for M. I. T. They call him “Stonewall” just to give weight to his name. D. W. Fairbanks is going to turn rustic and attend Mass. Aggie, while Louis Pratt will while away the weary hours at Nor- wich University. “Nick” Calendrella is still up here (he hasn’t a job, either). Henry and Jack Weissman are still going strong. It was reported that they were shipwrecked on an island this summer when one exclaimed: “Ah, a sail!” to which the other said: “Vot’s the use, we’ve no sam- ples.” Bertha Sanderman and Nancy Marquis will next fall attend Jackson (that is, if there is no hope of getting married), and Alice Pat- ten will go to Miss Wheelocks (well! well!). Ruth Northrop and Marion Kadis will even- ly tually attend Normal School. Phyllis Moyni- han is going to be some one’s secretary if Cath- erine Gibb will be of any help. Mary McDon- old, after May of June, will go to the Winches- ter Hospital( poor girl), and Lillian Sloane will toil under Mr. Herman at Sargent School, Cam- bridge. Oh, that aesthetic dancing! If anything is wrong or left out of these scratchings, write a letter to Box 109XN. If it is still there after two weeks you will know that I have not received it, so tear it up be- cause it wouldn’t do any good anyway. A couple of Juniors and shall I say a P. G. were caught out of bounds by Mr. Avery. Oh, well, just another case of BOARD (bored) OF EDU- CATION. As I say, anything might be wrong because my mother sent me for crackers once and I came back with pretzels so, so long, until hens in an insane asylum lay cracked eggs. P. H. C. Now that everyone is sure of at least one study period a day, we suppose that even less books than last year are being taken home each night. Of course, we have to remain in school until two o’clock — but imagine what it would be like if we had to stay until two-thirty! ER- I LEFT ‘IT ON THE GRAND PIANO AT HOME! YOUNG MAN, 'WHERE IS YOUR HOMEWORK THIS MORNING? Auipagi) — I- FAMOUS FIBS. ) V