Stoughton High School - Stotonian / Semaphore Yearbook (Stoughton, MA)

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STOUGHTON HIGH SCHOOL A Wee Bit of Scotch Old Man MacTavish, as he was so often called by the people familiar with his slight, straight body limping up the rows of benches at various dog shows, was whistling softly to himself as he understandingly scratched the ear of a black terrier standing in front of him on the old scarred table. He always whistled when he was happy, the happier he was, the softer the whistle. The whistle was very, very, soft now, for you see he was very, very happy. The dog wagged his tail gaily. He also was happy, for he knew what that soft whistle signified. Many times had he heard that when he had been especially obedient or clever. It usually was fol- lowed by some choice bit for the dog and this was the case now, for Scotch Hill Whiskey, of Scotch Hill Kennel, was presently chewing on a biscuit, mys- teriously emerging from the vast depths of his master ' s pocket. Whiskey could never understand how those pockets could hold so many things. Stored away were various things. There was a num- berless amount of small biscuits for Whiskey, which he received on good be- havior ; a great amount of combs, tweez- ers, clippers, trimmers, brushes, a col- lar or two, and the same amount of leads mixed happily together. He mar- veled at the ease with which his master was able to fish a required object out. A leash now appeared and was snapped on Whiskey ' s collar. This meant a run in the exercising pen. Whiskey trotted gayly down the stairs and sneezed hap- ])ily while MacTavish unlatched the gate. There were only two dogs there so Whiskey ' s lead was taken of¥ and he was allowed to roam around at will. MacTavish grinned in anticipation of what he knew might happen. Whiskey was an exceptionally friendly Scotty. but woe to man or beast who did not appeal to him. MacTavish on see- ing that these three were going to get along, strolled up the stairs to seek out some of the old cronies and talk over the events of the preceding day. He had much to say. Had Whiskey not won Best of Breed yesterday? Here it was the second day of the big three-day show and he had nothing to do today but tramp around and tell of the wonders of his W ' hiskey. Tomorrow there would be much to do. First, Whiskey would be entered in Best of Terriers and then, provided he won, which MacTavish was sure he would, he would compete for Best in Show . Ah ! Softly he began to whistle. His W hiskey Best of Show . This was his highest dream. His and Whiskey ' s dream, for had they not confidentially whispered and nodded their heads to- gether over this over many a fire, and under many a moon. He had whispered to Whiskey how proud he would be and Whiskey had understandingly nodded his head, for of course he understood. A silent promise had been exchanged and since then, they had both tried their best to keep it. MacTavish had combed, trimmed, plucked, oiled, and performed all of the other necessary operations to make W hiskey appear at his best. WHiiskey had cheerfully and patiently stood for all this, although there was much of it he did not enjoy too well. But had they not been rewarded greatly for their patience? For Whiskey was now at his best, and Whiskey at his best was good enough. MacTavish whistled softer still as he remembered how Whiskey ' s square terrier face looked squarer still for the long, firm whiskers at each corner of the black muzzle. His small, dark, hazel eyes glistened like ripe huckleberries in the bright summer sun. His short, straight legs carried him to Best of Breed, yesterday, while his tail gayly Patronize Semaphore Advertisers Page Seventeen

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iierari Class mil LAST W ILL AND TESTAMENT: We, the class of 1935, of the Stough- ton High School, Town of Stoughton, being of sound mind and memory, do make, publish, and declare this our last will and testament, in manner and form as follows : Farrell leaves and gives his Soap box orations to W alter Gorday. Anne Tumonis leaves her athletic abil- ity to Leah Kell. Arthur Pentz leaves his big feet to Frankie Xeylon. Alice Selansky leaves her good marks to Blanche Lipsky. Barbara Twombly and Alfred Tirelis leave their romance to Paul CofYee and Barbara Lutted. Charles Gushing leaves his Dog with a certain teacher to Eddie Banis. Alfie Ghestnut and Lorraine Phillips leave their hiking to Pat Griffin and Eve- lyn LaFrance. Hazel Burns leaves her Bunk in history to Anna Lehan. Alice Bolin leaves all her headaches to Joe Gopello. Garmen L ' rcuioli bequeaths and gives his ability to attract the Freshmen to Alfred Kemp. Francis Vinskus leaves his position as treasurer to the one who thinks he can undertake such a responsibility. ]Marjorie Gurrie leaves her nerve to Lucille Gemme. Louise W ' ereska leaves her singing ability to Antrinette Roche — to you — ] Iillie to us. Bernard Jatul leaves his good marks in History to Jesselyn Innes. Gigi Iversen leaves his blonde, good looks to Paul Gofifee. Earl W ' ahl leaves his freckles to Jesse- lyn Innes. Helen Harding leaves her dancing ability to lary Rivella. Richmond Eliason leaves his work at the mimeograph to Joe Geruti. Bob Leahy leaves his basketball tech- nique to his brother. In Witness Whereof, we have hereto subscribed our names and affixed our seal, this Fifth Day of June, in the year of our Lord, one thousand-nine-hundred and thirty-five. Signed, sealed, and published, and de- clared by the Glass of 1935 in the pres- ence of each other, have hereunto sub- scribed our names as witnesses on the day above mentioned. HAZEL BURNS, GARMEN URGUIOLI, ALIGE BOLIN, LORRAINE PHILLIPS, GEORGE R ' ERSEN, GLAUDIA HART. Page Sixteen Patronize Semaphore Advertisers

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THE SEMAPHORE waved its banner of victory. Yes, most decidedly, Whiskey at his best, was good enough. A shadow crossed MacTavish ' s face. If only Oh. well — what was the use? A fellow can ' t have everything. Everything to AlacTavish would mean W hiskey winning Best of Show while Edith watched them strut their stuff . But there was no Edith to watch and the sooner he became accustomed to it the better it would be for him. Edith had left him seven months previous, her only explanation being, I take sec- ond place to nobody. She had then gone on to explain that they were in the dog business she knew, but when MacTavish took the $3,000 that they had in the bank and had gone and bought a five months old puppy that he was going to make a world beater , she couldn ' t understand him at all. As if this hadn ' t been enough money to spend, he had proceeded to buy every- thing for that dog. He must be fed special food. He needed sun baths. He simply must have yeast, tomato, etc. To top it all off, lacTavish had insisted on spending three hours every day to train the dog to carry himself properly in the ring. After much sputtering, her frugal nature had got over the shock or at least MacTavish had thought so. W hiskey and she had become good friends. Alany a romp they had had to- gether by the lake neatly tucked away l:ehind their house. She had taken him for his first swimming lesson here at the age of eight months. Happily they had run home and she had told him about the cute antics Whiskey had gone through. During her recital, Whiskey had promptly proceeded to roll on his back and turn somersaults to show how pleased he was. with himself, and the rest of the world. But — MacTavish sighed, as he rememibered the change that had gradually come over her. No longer did Whiskey take his puppy woes and joys to her, for he had experienced many a slap for things that before had been rewarded with a smile. Consequent- ly, he hugged his woes to himself and moped around the house. Edith had be- come cross and irritable, which added more to Whiskey ' s discomfort. Finally, MacTavish had pleaded with her to change her tactics with the dog or she would ruin his show prospects. This was the occasion when she had packed and left and not a word had they heard from her. Whiskey and he had turned to each other for comfort. MacTavish had spent all of his spare moments on Whiskey. Whiskey must win in order to lessen the ache in MacTavish ' s heart. As these thoughts flew through his mind he decided not to hunt up his cronies but to go down and see how Whiskey was making out. A smile crossed his face and he limped down the last step and crossed the floor over to the pen. He looked into the pen but could see no sturdy little figure running around. The little bum, he thought. I bet he is taking a snooze in the cor- ner behind that pole. MacTavish crept softly over but no Whiskey lay out- stretched there. His heart missed a beat. Could Whiskey have gotten out through the gate? He climbed the stairs as fast as his bad leg would permit him. There were two young fellows standing at the top of the stairs. You haven ' t by any chance seen a Scotty running around up here, have you ? Xo, have you lost one? The little bum has sneaked out of the pen downstairs and has disappeared. ' ' Sorry, Mister, we ' ve been here for quite a while but we have not seen him. ' ' Thanks. Their last remark had frightened him. Where could he have gone. He searched through the hall. His frantic question was answered in the negative. He sent a clear, loud whistle through the build- Page Eighteen Patronize Semaphore Advertisers