Taunton High School - Journal Yearbook (Taunton, MA)

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THE JOURNAL I turned to extinguish the handy light, but could not find the switch. 'Twas an E-Z Light manufactured by the Hathaway, Hollindale Co. Finally, in despair, I put it in the bureau drawer and shut it. just before climbing in, I looked down to the street. I was about a mile up. Suppose I should fall! Luckily my eyes fell upon a sign on the wall Safe in the Ofhcef' Down I went and explained to Gardner, the night clerk, that I had come down to be sure of safety. Only fools are sure of anything, he said. Sure of that? asked Mildred Howe who had just come in from a tea-party. I certainly am, replied Gus, much to her amusement. Next morning I was presented with my bill. I'm sorry- I began. You don't leave here till it's paid, yelled jim Goldie, the manager. Thank you, I'll make it my permanent home. VVhen I came to, I found myself on the operating table under the hands of Dr. Gregg. As I was coming out of the ether, I heard him tell the nurse, Bea Lapham, to pull the shade, as the patient was coming out and the Ere across the street might lead me to believe the operation un- successful. I left abruptly, pawned my gold tooth, and hastened to the railway station. A ticket for Ware, I said to Miss Golub behind the wicket. Where? Ware, I replied. Finally, with fire in my eye, I wrote it out. One dollar. I Ninety-eight cents I'll give you. No cut rates. All right, I don't argue, I'll walk. Soon I heard a whistle. VVhistle all you want, I won't come back, I thought. Happily it was a double track, and I was on the right one, which was left. A'bit farther on I met Spencer Eaton. I'm a detective, he said. What kind of dog is that? I inquired. Oh that's my gum-slot poodle, he gets the scent. I'm looking for Grant, the President of this railroad. How'll you find him out here? I queried. Don't you see I am on his track? The boy certainly is clever. Stopping at a house by the track, I begged a bite. I've nothing at all, answered B. Leonard, I'm baking biscuits. I'll be back in half an hour, said I, ducking just in time to escape 3 blow. 59

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THE JOURNAL Really! I exclaimed. Yes, continued Gag, I've got a bungalow resigned by Miller, ex- ecuted by Mansfield, furnished by L. Nearing, the inferior decorator, with indecent lighting by Taylor, and openwork plumbing by Glynn. I suppose you have a bath? I inquired. Oh, no, laughed Gag, I live there only two months a year. My eye observed a sign Rubber Collars Retreadedl Shoes Oiled with Squeakless Oil!!! I entered the shop, only to find C. McGowan engaged in teaching shoes not to stick out their tongues. I wished him success and went on to Mary Kelliher's Hash House. Hamburg, cup of coffee, I ordered. Bull, chew it. Bossy black in the face, shouted the sunny-haired youth behind the counter, none other than Roger VVitherell. Attracted by the draft, I turned only to find Perra inhaling soup. Good soup, he said. Sounds good, added Maura O'Neil, the waitress. Making a hasty exit ahead of Mary's cash register, I entered the Pay- more Hotel. Sign here, said Needham to a lady ahead of me. No, sir, replied Miss McCaffrey, I'm a business woman, and sign nothing I haven't read over. A little boy, all brass buttons, Bill Swift it looked like, showed her to the elevator. Not wishing to take any chances, I walked up the stairs. jo Parlow, in blue gingham, on hands and knees was operating with a mop and a cake of soap. Do you really believe ignorance is bliss? she inquired, pointing to a. sign, Please Do Not Use Stairs, at the foot of the landing. I don't know, I replied, You seem to be quite happy. I reached my room two jumps ahead of the floor mop. My, but it was cold up there. I went to the phone and called the janitor. Who is it? 'Tis Conway. I want some heat up here. Go die, he replied. I hung up, not wishing to hear any more indecent language. As there was a fireplace in the room, I walked out into the hall in search of something to burn. Under some red buckets on a shelf was a sign, For Fire Purposes Only, by order of the Masterson, McMahon, McNamara Co. The very thing. Taking them in the room, I started a fire. I was now ready for bed. 58

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THE JOURNAL At the next house, Dorothy Ricketson gave me a cordial welcome by throwing a grape juice bottle in my general direction. Reclining under a tree to rest, I observed Tom Flangheddy cavorting about in the branches. I'm a bird, sang he. I evaporated quietly from the scene. Slam!! I was surrounded by a net, also by Misses VVitherell, Tullock, Rafter, Childs, and Clay. I've got it! shouted Louise, removing the net from my head and extractingasmall wingedinsectf lt'sa jazz bug. They drove me to the next town in their stone boat. The pangs of hunger could not be suppressed. Madame, said I to Miss Gough, who had just stepped out of her Panhard limousine, I am slowly starving. I'm sorry, replied Carolyn, but I know of no way to hasten the process. However, Miss Vasconcelles gave me a Nicoteena cigarette. You know, they stupifyg Cohen ck Barr make them. On a billboard in front of a theater I saw Warner's Roof Garden. George Thayer, manager, presents Mlle. Bolster and her troupe who have just returned from Egypt where they were rivals to the Sphinx. I noticed the names of Misses Babbitt, VVeygand, Campbell, Bourgoin, as the Nifty Babies Four, also Wise, Young, and Dean, The jazz Trio. As I saw Miss Macomber passing out envelopes in front of the opera house, I took one, which contained a handbill of the performance and a free ticket. It was the opening night, and the place was full. Sophie Macphee and Laura Nichols were ushering. The prima donna, Dot Crew, rendered several beautiful selections assisted by Gladys Lincoln and Hester MacDonald, and accompanied by Alice Davis and Stew Waterfield. I left early, but could not avoid the rush for the exits. Meeting Ted Spencer, I accepted his invitation, and we entered the Wide-awake Cafe. The Spillanes, the Dotty Sisters of the day, entertained us until Pond inadvertently poured hot soup down Ted's neck. Pond excused himself on the ground that he was glancing at Frankie Quinlan, Hilda Haskins, and Dot King who had just entered. I'm sorry, explained the Baron, but I was wondering where they inherited their complexions. Fathers must have been calciminers, I guess, said Ted. Leaving Spencer to lecture to Miss Richmond and Doris Marshall on the evils of vamping, I departed for the city park where I expected to pass the night. The only unoccupied bench was occupied by Sylvander and Ethel Levy, Who, as usual, weren't speaking. 60