Stoneham High School - Wildlife Yearbook (Stoneham, MA)

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THE STONEHAM HIGH SCHOOL AUTHENTIC in reality, the Angel of Tomorrow and So, very soon, in our own beautiful the Vision of Universal Service, still Fells, we are to demonstrate the influ- imaging themselves in our minds. And enee of pageantry as “a festival to Al- we shall make again, with relieved mighty God in commemoration of past courage, the March Upward. The se- glories and in gratitude for present rious lesson of the brave legions gone prosperity.” before will appeal to us to carry on. They called her “the angel” because It was empty. She knew then that he of the miniature figure that she wore had never been there at all. Her per- around her neck, but she was all of that ception had been imaginary. Her mind to them — and more. It was she who had been deceiving her. fed them when their bandaged hands At nine in the evening the heavier could not hold the spoon. It was she firing ceased. The nurses were allowed who, unmindful of the detriment to her to retire to get what little rest they clean sheets, disinfected their wounds; might before the ambulances should ar- and rebound them with fresh gauze rive, but “the angel” could not sleep, when the wounded were coming in so Instead she sat at the window. Over- fast that the usual preliminaries had to head the clouds were gathering. The be abandoned. It was she who pleaded in moon had not as yet risen to light the behalf of the weakest when the doctors blackness below. Somewhere off to moved them on in preparation for the left was No-Man’s land, a dismal area fresh lot that would soon arrive. of trenches, barbed wire and shell She always smiled. She never seemed holes. On the right was the poverty weary though goodness knows that stricken village of V Above, fore- there was little time that she had for bodings of rain; below, the muck, herself or that she was not in her ward Far away faint, half dimmed lights — sometimes being up nearly half the appeared. They came on slowly thru night to help with the surgical cases, the mud and the dark. The ambulan- They learned to watch for her when ces! she first appeared to make the morning round with the thermometer, even the poor fellow who had groaned all night It was almost midnight. “The angel” with a bullet hole in his side being paused near the cot at the end of the quiet. ward. It was not empty now. By the On the sixth of the month a fresh aid of the dim light she saw that the drive was made. Off toward L form was that of a German lad, hardly the guns boomed all day without ceas- more than a youngster — a youngster ing. At noon on the seventh the order with his arm nearly shot away. Gan- was brought into the wards to prepare grene had set in, but it was too late to the wounded for departure. They were save him now. He had lain unnoticed disheartened at the prospect of the on the field for the better part of two long, rough journey ahead of them, days and a night, but consciousness still They grumbled while she adjusted their lingered. She kneeled down beside bandages. They weren’t able to go. him, and wiped away the blood and They would die on the way. But after dirt from his forehead. Slowly he lift- awhile they began to jest among them- ed his eyes and gazed at her. selves for it was against the doughboy “The angel,” — he said feebly, “all nature to be disheartened very long, the long days, alone on the field, I have “The angel” heard them, and was glad, seen it.” For a moment she did not She began to fold sponges for the gan- understand. Then she took the mini- grene case in the cot at the end of the ature from around her neck, and placed ward. Poor buddy! he was hardly it in his one hand. He held it weakly, more than a youngster — a youngster his upper fingers closing around its with his arm nearly shot away. But as throat, but he did not look at it now she folded she began to wonder wheth- that it was in his hand; he seemed to er he was really there after all. To have forgotten that it was there, allay her doubt she approached the cot. “I have seen it from far off so often,” (Prize Winning Story) 6

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THE STONEHAM HIGH SCHOOL AUTHENTIC Pageantry (Second Honor — Miss Hazel Blanchard) “Laugh, for the time is brief, a thread but the length of a span, Laugh, and be proud to belong to the old proud pageant of man.” Stoneham is about to commemorate her two hundredth anniversary by a pageant. How much more logical it is to celebrate by an observance of this sort than by a so-called good time — here today, gone tomorrow. The idea of pageantry has taken root firmly in this country. Even the hard-headed economist has been convinced that it pays. Any movement which becomes truly prominent must do so because the great mass of people is behind it. At the same time, public opinion has always need of the leader who will develop and reveal its characteristic sentiment. This has been particularly true of pageantry. Louis Napoleon Parker revived the pageant just twenty years ago on an anniversary occasion in Sherborne, England. America was not far behind, for in the same year a performance for a similar purpose was given in Cornish, New Hampshire, with Percy MacKaze as a leading spirit. Let us not suppose that these men in- vented the pageant. “Nothing is new, said Emerson, “except what has been forgotten. However, they deserve great credit, for the ability to renew what has been forgotten often eq uals Inven- tion. As far back as we have any records, people have had processions and festi- vals. In trying to express their glor- ious past, they found usual words and actions inadequate. They began to realize, too, that pantomime and grace of movement helped to express intan- gible things such as peace or prosperity. In those long-ago days very little was done in the way of pageants or drama of any kind except through religion. Authors and actors were usually mem- bers of the clergy who were endeavor- ing to teach the people. In the Middle Ages, the English, while retaining the ; r religious presen- tations, showed an increasing tendency to dramatize their legends and folk- lore ajscv. These perfiofrinandes were usually out-clcor affairs, with such he- roes as Robin Hood and Saint George. When history did not provide the desir- able material for such exhibitions, and especially Avhen it did not teach ethics clearly enough, the morality play came into favor. It was performed on a stage moved on wheels from town to town. It is interesting to note that such a stage was called a pageant. The poorer folk and country people attended these crude out-door perform- ances, while the nobles and kings were entertained by a fanciful and unreal drama built around the dance. This was called the mosque, and the char- acters in it represented virtues or vires, such as Justice, Hypocrisy, Heresy, Pietz. As in all development of drama and act, these forms of entertainment were obliged to pass through various periods of disfavor and unpopularity. The churches, which had done so much to foster pageantry, did their best to sup- press it. The Puritans were most zeal- ous in this work of opposition. Never- theless, we find that, on the whole, when- ever the people had an awakened inter est in history, dancing, acting, or any of the humanities, they expressed it in pageants. Perceiving new changes with each age, it has finally evolved as a method of giving the meaning of some history in a way effective and helpful to those observing it. Since history lias no plot, the pageant is of a loose sequence. Interest is not lost by this procedure, for methods not al- lowable in strict drama may “bring home” an idea to the audience. At the beginning of our own cen- tury, as we have seen, all sorts of pag- eants became immensely popular. The community pageant now aims to get the people of that community playing together, in the hope that they will work together. Everyone has his op- portunity to be of assistance, from the Indian who will “ ' die for the cause” to the spectators whose chief duty will be to allow themselves to be carried for- ward on a wave of enthusiasm which will sweep the performance to a glor- ious success. Imagine the effect on the commu- nity of driving out Poverty, Ignorance, Slavery, Sin, the Destroying Forces. These gone from our midst symbolic- ally, we shall come back to banish them 5

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THE STONEHAM HIGH SCHOOL AUTHENTIC he whispered, “but it would not wait — angel,” he said, “I am weary. I — am it would not wait.” His fingers loosen- — going.” ed from about the miniature. “Dear M. H. ’25. Tumbuckle Whitney Synopsis: Robert Clinton is sent by his father in search of his brother, who has disappeared into the densely wood- ed plains of Manitoba. He has been given thirty days to accomplish the task. The end of the third day finds him on the beautiful, sunlit waters of that broad and sparkling expanse called Lake Manitoba, making his way slowly and cautiously northward. The frail canoe, however, is too much for its in- experienced master to guide against the increasing wind, now almost blow- ing at gale force. After making safe landing, the lad stretches out for a lit- tle sleep beneath a moaning pine tree. Almost immediately, he hears harsh voices, and, upon peering through the underbrush, spies a long grey canoe slowly working its way against the wind. This craft is propelled by two young men, engaged in hurried con- versation. From a few scattered words which Robert is able to understand, he learns that these two men are the most to be dreaded of any he could possibly encounter. He also learns that they are about to beach their canoe, and commence a thorough search for him. They land and beat the brush for a few minutes in the hopes of discovering some hidden trace of their prey. Sud- denly Robert Clinton, lying on his stomach, sees the younger of the two creep around the point and discover the temporary camp. There was a moment of hesitation. The approaching villain stopped and whistled to his companion. Another minute elapsed. The second man round- ed the point and joined the first. Then there was a long pause, during which the villains seemed to be devising plans or plotting some scheme. Bob Clinton was not without weap- ons, but he somehow hated to think of drawing that heavy pistol from his belt and letting it loose on the two intrud- ers. If they attempted to distroy his new canoe, or threaten his own life, h e determined that he should spare no lead until the affair was over and he was satisfied as to the outcome. The two men, having decided on some mode of attack, walked over to the ca- noe, and, one on each side, gave it a tremendous shove out into the break- ers. For nearly twenty feet it main- tained its equilibrium, in the serf, but finally, rolling in a gulley, it capsized and deposited its heavy luggage in the foaming sea. The men, waiting only to witness the fruit of their misdeeds, turned about and after walking some distance down the beach, entered the thicket in hopes of cutting their prey off from any chance of escape through the dense growth of bushes and vines. In spite of the boy’s determination to protect his property, he still felt timid about pulling his gun. He knew that if he, by some twist in the law, were found guilty of murder, — that would be worse than a brief hold-up by two strangers. And also, if his first shot did not reach its mark, he would have but little chance of escape from the aroused enemy. He therefore kept quiet. From far down a wooded slope, he now and then heard a voice, or a rustle of leaves, or the snap of a twig. At first thought, he considered his departure from that remote shore quite doubtful. He believed also that if, he were quickly being closed in upon by a detachment of Whitney’s band, and if his canoe were drifting, bottom up out into the lake, the chances of find- ing his brother were few. With a ca- noe such as he had purchased, — light, sturdy and rugged, but a few powerful strokes of the paddle would leave all danger behind. He saw the long craft that had brought his enemies, lying idle on the sand a quarter of a mile up the beach. Robert slowly arose, listened inten- tively for some sound of his pursuers, and then advanced from his secluded shelter into the open. Cutting across a narrow strip of land, he approached the abandoned canoe, and then listen- ed. The sun had set, and the moon, already overhead, began to cast sil- very light on the lake, and on the sand. From behind a screech owl pierced the dull silence of twilight with a shrill call to its mate. How beautiful and picturesque it seemed! How could