Stoneham High School - Wildlife Yearbook (Stoneham, MA)

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PUBLISHED BY THE SENIOR CLASS OF THE STONEHAM HIGH SCHOOL, STONEHAM, MASS. VOLUME 49 JUNE 1932 NUMBER 4 THE EDITORIAL STAFF Richard Hunt, Editor-in-Chief Assistants Gertrude French James Clark Faculty Advisors Literary, Mr. Reed Lewis Parks Literary Editor Robert Thompson ..Asst. Literary Editor Robert Thompson Advertising Manager Helen Brown ....Asst. Advertising Mgr. Melvin Flynn Art Editor Business, Mr. Hoyt Carleton Connor Business Manager K enneth Hanson ..Boys’ Athletic Editor Jane Tilden Girls’ Athletic Editor Willard Eldridge Joke Editor Dorothy Corcoran Alumni Exchange Ed. Virginia Joyce Muriel Berry .... Lorenzo Lawson Claire Wells Clerical Committee Maryalice Newhall Class Editors Class 1932 Class 1933 ■Class 1934 John Burgman Eleanor Grundberg Ben Hur Bagdikian Virginia Tolman Class 1935 Class 1936 Class 1937 Olottignts Editorials 2 Graduation Address 4 Address of Welcome 6 Class History 6 Class Prophecy 8 Prophecy of Prophet 12 Class Statistics 17 Last Will of S. H. S. Authentic Staff 1931-1932 12 Last Will and Testament of the Class of 1932 12 Class Directory 13 Class Notes 27 Sports 22 Exchanges 31 1

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SOUTH SCflOOL CLASS OF ’32— FOURTH GRAD?]

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THE STONEIIAM HIGH SCHOOL AUTHENTIC ARE WE MODERN? Are we modern? Tlie cosmetics, the modern conveniences of our homes, the knowledge of surgery, and all the other things we are so proud of were known to the Romans, the Greeks and the Egyptians. Pompeii discloses, bit by bit, that steam furnaces and glass windows were part of the better homes. But, after all, are we modern? De- cidedly, we are. The Romans, the Greeks, the Egyptians buried their art, and handed down no knowledge of many, many inventions. If a man, en- lightened by the discoveries of his fel- low men, invents something, the credit is due to him, not to an early inhabitant of Asia Minor. If a person, by chance, makes a beautiful vase, which about three months later finds its counterpart in the ruins of Pompeii, should it be any the less admired? No, it was from the beauty of his own soul that it came. We are not just reviving their skill, we are creating for ourselves. We are modern. Marjmnn Curran ’33. PATHS Did you ever think, while strolling down a shadowy lane or climbing to some high summit, that a path could have personality? This thought first crossed my mind one day after an ex- ploring tour through the White Moun- tains. Like people, no two paths are alike and, like all individuals, each path has its own individuality. Paths circling ponds or lakes, garbed in moss and overhung with willows, sug- gest the happiness of solitude and peace. Rugged paths through thickets, wind- ing paths through heavy undergrowth, steep ascents to hill-tops, can not help but bring a thrill of fascination and ex- pectancy. Then, too, there are those paths, sometimes bordered with ferns, or perhaps made gallant with decora- tions of garlands, strewn in nature’s inimitable way, which seem a blending of perfect harmony. Orderly garden paths, still another type, bring forth the security of highly modernized domesticity. But, finest of all, most outstanding in character, is the mountain trail. Faint sometimes, as it winds its way to the summit, it is distinguished by the white blazed marks of the rangers on near-by pine or hemlock. This mountain pathway suggests a thought. It is one of nature’s great se- crets. Only through hard work can you reach the top and your desired goal. Mary Bickum ’32. FRIENDS I’LL NEVER FORGET “When I was a child I thought as a child, I spoke as a child — ” and I might add that I read as a child. On my ninth birthday I was given a set of five red and gold-bound books. They dealt with the life of one “Flaxie Frizzle.” Flaxie was a sweet, golden- haired little girl and I just lived her joys and troubles, her mishaps and mis- takes. I read and re-read those books by the hour. However, I’m afraid the only lasting impression they made on mo was a burning desire to have golden hair. After reading “Black Beauty” I was filled with a keen sense of justice and the need for humane treatment for horses. I told my farmer uncle that he was a bad man to make his horses pull a load of hay. My uncle gently remind- ed me that I liked to ride on loads of hay, so I didn’t press the point. Louisa May Alcott’s “Little Women” Series really did me lots of good at the time. I imagined myself in the shoos