Somerville High School - Radiator Yearbook (Somerville, MA)

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24 SOMERVILLE HIGH SCHOOL RADIATOR Before I married Maggie dear, I was her apple pie, Her precious peach, her honey lamb, The apple of her eye. But after years of married life, This thought I pause to utter, Those fancy names are gone, and now I’m just her bread and butter. —Tid Bits. “This vase is over 3,000 years old.” “Nonsense! Why, it’s only 1930 now.” Chivalrous gentleman (to a man who just settled in the seat he has vacated): “Pardon me, sir, but I meant that seat for this lady here.” Man: “IPs quite all right; that’s my wife!” —Our Paper. Bess: “Did Harry propose to you in flowery language last night?” Tess: “Yes, but I nipped it in the bud.” —Answers. Little Johnny: “Look at the rhinoceros.” Little Willie: “That ain’t a rhinoceros; that’s a hippopotamus. Can’t you see it ain’t got no radiator cap?” —Exchange. There was a tremendous crash. Farmer Jones, who was working in one of his cow sheds, rushed out into the farmyard and, looking up into a nearby tree, saw a small airplane lodged in the topmost branches. “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked the airman, who had fortunately escaped in- jury and was in the act of climbing down the tree. “I was trying to create a new air record,” returned the other, sadly. “And you’ve succeeded,” exclaimed the farmer. “You’re about the first chap who has climbed down a tree without first climbing up.” Mrs. Guzzlum: “The party who gave me the recipe for this soup has just died.” Guzzlum: “Then out of respect, let’s drink it in silence.” Mrs. Saphead had just arrived back from a tour of Europe, and her long-suffering ac- quaintances had no opportunity to forget the fact. “And Paris,” she gushed, “Paris is just won- derful ! The people are all so well educated — not at all like they are in this crude country, my dear! Why, even the street cleaners talk French!” —Tit Bits. He was one of those young men who never seem to know when to go. She had yawned several times, when a clock in the hall struck midnight. “Is that an eight-day clock?” asked the young man. “Well,” said the girl, stifling another yawn, “why don’t you stay a little longer and find out?” Tit Bits. t i I ! : : t x A : : A t. A A : i : : s : i t : A t A 4 : : : : : . : : : :, : : : » : : : :» :»,:, :» :, :» :»«:»,!»«t » »» » %«’ , « ' — i I I I A I § t I I 1 ! Son a (Eakr LKitrlmt The Home of the Famous Brownies BROWN IES—CA K ES FUDGE CUP CAKES AT YOUR CAFETERIA 98-B HIGHLAND AVENUE SOMERVILLE Tel. Prospect 1543 —Pathfinder.

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(Continued from Page 12) mendous fury, his body straightened like an ar- row, he leapt, full seven feet off the earth, a distance of ten feet, at Alvan. They struggled, and then the two sank to earth together, a crumpled heap of death. “Powerful poison,” said Norman, examining the fluid in the bag. “Leopold saved our lives.” They dug the graves that morning, and set cut again. Leaving death behind them, they expected death for themselves in the near fu- ture. The caravan journeyed northward. The next day came. The camels were weakening. The people could not converse. No word dropped from any man’s lips except a feeble, “water, water.” But then, the next day, they saw a walled city in the midst of the desert. It was no mir- age, for a short time later they found them- selves outside the very walls, and in front of a door. They entreated to come in, and the door was opened by a man who gave them that blessed water. They remained there a week, and then one day Mr. Evans sought out his host in the living rcom of the house. Beside him was a young girl working, whom the host introduced as his daughter, Adah. After acknowledging the in- troduction, Mr. Evans said: “Thank you very much for your hospitality, but we must be go- ing now — back to Algeria.” The host jumped up, and stamping his foot, said in broken English: “No—no. Nev’r. You nev’r leave. I tell yo’ why. I am ch’ef o’ Arab tribe — live here — in dis city. Dis secre’ tribe. No one know ’cept you. We worship Abd-el-ra, our god ancestor. He god — real god. Our ancestor — our ideal — our hero. No one else worship. You come — find our secre’ hidin’ place. You stay forever, forever. Our secre’ no one shall know. You stay. You no go. I learn English when I wen’ away to find out about the world, and brin’ back news to my tribe. But you nev’r go. “Out,” and he pointed to the door. Mr. Evans went and told his companions the news. “We’ll escape tomorrow,” they said. Tomorrow came and went. “We’ll go tomorrow,” they still said. And so it went on for a week. One dark night, a tap came at the door. “Come in,” cried Norman. In came Adah. “Yo go now, queek. Quiet! Fader, de chief, no near door. Yo escape. He no’f side of wall. Dat is so’f side.” They hurried out and mounted the camels that were corralled near-by. Then, following Adah, they reached the gate. Betty, leaning down from her seat, shook Adah’s hand grate- fully. They filed out and rode southward. Gradu- ally they worked to the north. From where they were, they saw a figure squatting on the wall. It was their host, a man who loved his religion and people well enough to, night after night and year after year, keep an uncomplain- ing, silent watch over his walled domain.

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t t t I ! I i t : t : i : V t, | t i : i : : i : : V 1 : I I : 1 : f i : 1 : 1 t i y t, A i HIGHEST QUALITY WARDS BREAD and WARD’S CAKE Made by Ward Baking Company L. A. Dewire Confectioner 4S CENTRAL STREET Somerville Tel. Somerset 1868 Telephones: Richmond 4980, 4981, 4982, 4983, 4984, 4985. Alfred Sears Co. Boston, Mass. DEALERS IN MUTTON, LAMB, VEAL, BEEF, FORK AND POULTRY We Make a Specialty of Serving Hotels, Restaurants and Institutions. 43-44 South Market St.—Stalls 14-15 Faneuil Hall Market i : i : : : : : : : j : : : y : i V : : : : : : i i : : x V : t V : : : : i : i i : : s : : X i :