Thomaston High School - Owl Yearbook (Thomaston, CT)

Text from Pages 1 - 78 of the 1928 volume:

f r SAVINGS DEPARTMENT Deposits as small as one dollar will be accepted. Deposits made on or before the first business day of the month will draw interest from the first day of the month. Interest at the rate of four per cent payable May first and November first will be paid on savings deposits. COMMERCIAL DEPARTMENT We solicit checking accounts. Doing business by check is the safe way. Every paid check is both a record and a receipt of a business transaction. VAULT DEPARTMENT Safety Deposit Boxes in our strong modern vault are for rent at $4.00 and upward per year. i I TRAVELERS’ CHECKS You will find our travelers’ checks a great convenience when traveling or on your vacation. They can be cashed at any bank or hotel. This bank is equipped to give the most efficient service that modern methods and an experienced working force can insure. We give personal attention to the needs of our customers and guarantee courteous treatment to all. THOMASTON NATIONAL BANK i + ■ i + I Miss Lillian Laubmeister won the two year State Typewriting Championship. Mr. Edward G. Hazen won the one year State Bookkeeping Championship. Mr. Sam N. Sanford won first prize, a ten dollar gold piece, and Mr. Raymond E. Fancher second prize, a five dollar gold piece, m the New England Business College Association Arithmetic contest. All of the above are pupils in POST’S BUSINESS COLLEGE “The School That Gets Results” POST’S WATERBURY BUSINESS COLLEGE JONES-MORGAN BUILDING “Take the Post Road to Success” Miss Remo Poulsen ol Post’s Business College Waterbury, Conn., writing at 64 net words per minute for fifteen minutes, is th3 first to win the coveted prize— A Free Trip to California. REMO POULSEN Waterbury, Conn. Winner of Connecticut State Novice Championship —2— G. A. LEMMON PHARMACIST “THE REXALL STORE” Thomaston, Connecticut “Everything That’s Best” DODGE BROTHERS MOTOR CARS A Complete Line of Sixes POWER - COMFORT - REFINEMENT E. G. HOTCHKISS SOUTH MAIN STREET Tel. 61-5 THOMASTON A. L. WOOD PETER DUFF Main Street - Thomaston SON Meats, Fancy Groceries Butter, Eggs, Fruits Groceries, Feed and Essex and Vegetables Fertilizer —3— The Hartford Hospital Training School Graduating Class A Professional Career The Hartford Hospital Training School for Nurses offers high school graduates a professional career with every educational advantage. Since 1877 it has steadily increased its enrollment to 265 students. Attractive homelike surroundings, eight-hour duty, moving pictures, tennis, and professional glee club and dramatic club instruction. Classes admitted September and February. For further information, address: PRINCIPAL Hartford Hospital Training School Hartford, Connecticut -4- TOWN HALL BARBER SHOP j John Gizzi John Colucci i B. A. BAVIER Woodruff’s Garden Seed, Hardware, Aluminum Ware, Victor Bicycles, B. P. S. Paints and Varnishes, Murphy’s Dacote and Enamel, Fishing Tackle, Spaulding Athletic Goods, Perfection and Puritan Oil Stoves, Auto Supplies and Accessories MAIN STREET.......................THOMASTON W. G. JOHNSTON Automobile Repairing B U I C K Sales and Service Clay St. Thomaston, Conn. THOMAS M. LYONS SON REAL ESTATE AND INSURANCE MORTGAGE LOANS NOTARY PUBLIC Office: Main Street, Thomaston, Conn. j F. T. BID WELL 1 PATRONIZE JEWELER DONOVAN’S Town Hall Building Service Station Thomaston, Connecticut MAIN STREET —5— STYLE Is an asset for any young man in business and college HART, SCHAFFNER MARX CLOTHES are style leaders $30 to $50 UPSON, SINGLETON COMPANY WATERBURY, CONN. COMPLIMENTS OF CONNECTICUT POWER COMPANY ANDERSON’S SHOPPE SODA - CANDY - LUNCH THOMASTON, CONNECTICUT KELVINATOR Electric Refrigerator SOLD BY R. S. NEWTON —G— TERWILLIGER’S RESTAURANT SALADS - LUNCHES Meals at All Hours COMPLIMENTS OF INNES BROS. COMPLIMENTS OF PLUME ATWOOD MANUFACTURING COMPANY D. D. S. D. D. S. Have You Tried Our Readmore Circulating Library? DOYLE’S DRUG STORE 80 MAIN STREET - - - THOM ASTON, CONN. D. D. S. D. D. S. COMPLIMENTS OF WALK - OVER SHOE STORE TONY LAUR.ETANO EAST MAIN STREET - - - THOMASTON, CONN. The LANGROCK Seal guarantees conservative style, quality materials, craftsmanship and distinctive appearance. ALLEN’S MEN’S CLOTHES 05 BANK STREET - - - WATERBURY One Flight Up LATTIMER SHOP LOUIS LATTIMER, Prop. Wilson Bros. Haberdashery Jewelry at Reasonable Prices Dan Ciafardone South Main Street ICE CREAM PARLOR Soda, Confectionery, Fruit and Tobacco To Principal Elmer Stephens Mapes Who Has Guided Our School Through a Very Successful Period This Sixth Volume of The Owl Is Respectfully Dedicated —10— THE FACULTY E. Stephens Mapes, A.B., A.M., Principal Alfred College, Cornell University History Jennie M. Buck, A.B. ... Latin Colby College and History Enos M. Drumm, A.B. .... Bates College Science M. Bernice Rhoda, A.B. - University of Maine History Mary Etta Knapp - _ Barnard College English Marion R. Mapes, A.B., M.S. Alfred College, Simmons College English Virginia M. Bean, A.B. - - Colby College Mathematics Edith C. Lindell Bay Path Institute Commercial Dorothy Shearer, B.S., Geography and Physical Education University of New Hampshire Maud T. Bailey, B. S. Boston University Mathematics Marion R. Bailey, A.B. - Smith College English Miriam R. Clark - Art and Music Cincinnati College of Music, Norwich Art Schbol Evelyn A. Goodwin, A.B. - - French and History Smith College, Tulane University —14— Ol)£ Owl Published by the Students of the Thomaston High School EDITORIAL STAFF Editor-in-Chief............................Gilbert Nase Business Manager .... Charles Eggleston Literary Editor Helen Scott Circulation Manager .... William OBrien Art Editors........................................Carol Turner Esther York BUSINESS STAFF Edward Mattoon Alfred Pratt Minerva Mattoon Scott Weed Agnes O’Brien CIRCULATION STAFF Helen Morton George Parker Bernice Hurlburt Leverett Tanner Charlotte Sangster REPORTERS Edith Monahan (Head) Helen Shearer Catherine Woodward Edward O’Brien Christabel Lampshire Faculty Advisor .... Mrs. Marion Bailey From the press of the Thomaston Printing Company —15— THE STUDENT COUNCIL Charles Eggleston ........ President Charles Tibbals ....... Vice President Lauretta Warrenburger ....... .Treasurer Margaret Donovan......................................Secretary William O’Brien Ray Bradley Lucia Dewell Doris Lamb Helen Shearer Ada Seabourne PUBLIC SPEAKING IN HIGH SCHOOL Public speaking could be stressed a great deal more in the English courses of our high school; for, after graduation, a student, whether or not he seeks higher education, finds that he must do some speaking in public. What is more embarrassing than an attempt at a speech, even a prepared speech, if one has no practice in this sort of thing? One becomes nervous, stammers, shifts from one foot to the other, and finally sits down after saying half of what he had intended. The practical training which such a course in high school should provide would 60 much to improve such a situation. Perhaps it would increase his confidence so that he could say at least three-quarters of what he had planned. Thomaston High School has never had a course of this kind. We have our daily recitations and also our oral reports for English, but these do not amount to anything. We get up before the class look around, start giggling, and, with much clearing of our throats and a great amount of hesitation, deliver a very short speech—in many cases learned by heart. Even those students who are leaders ;n scholarship and class politics find that speaking in public is vastly different from speaking to a group of schoolmates whom they ha e known for at least eight years. However, it is never too late to reform. Thomaston High School c uld equip its graduates with very efficient tools with which to carve their names in the world by devoting a part of the senior high school English course to training in public speaking. —1G— THE STUDENT COUNCIL GILBERT HARRISON NASE “Squeek” Class President, 4 Student Council.. 2-3 School Play, 4 Editor-in-Chief, Owl, 4 Glee Club, 3 Owl Staff', 2-3 Favorite Expression—(Deep sigh) “Oh, Dear!” Ambition—Electrical engineer. Pastime—Doing school work. Characteristic--Solemn. Rarely Seen—About town. xJestiny—To be a lady-killer. CHARLES STUART EGGLESTON “Chick” Glee Club, 3 Owl Staff. 3-4 Baseball, 3-4 Pres. Student Council, 4 Basketball, 3-4 School Play, 3-4 Baseball Manager, 4 Favorite Expression—“Not so hot.” Ambition—Aviator. Pastime—Chewing gum. Rarely Seen-—With a girl. Characteristic—Woman hater. Destiny—To make a non-stop flight around the world. - -ID— KENNETH HENRY GILL “Gillv” Basketball, 4 Baseball. 1-2-3-4 Baseball Captain, 3-4 Favorite Expression—“Got any cash. Chick?” Arrjbition—-Professional baseball player. Pastime—Driving “Dad’s” car. Characteristic—Bashful. Rai'ely Seen-—With a girl. Destiny—Chauffeur. ROBERT JAMES GOODALL “Rat” Basketball Cap.ain, 4 Basketball 3-4 Favorite Expression—“See you tonight, gang.” Arrjt.tion—To be able to sleep all day. Pastime—Studying Physics. Characteristic—Happy-go-lucky. Rarely Seen—-At home. Destiny—Who knows? EDWARD SCOTT MATTOON “Beaver” Basketball, 3-4 Baseball, 3-4 Glee Club, 3 Favorite Expression—“Not really?” Ambition—Be a printer. Pastime—Helping “Dad.” Rarely Seen-—Doing school work. Characteristic—Dignified. Destiny—To print Thomaston Express daily. WILLIAM FRANCIS O’BRIEN “Scoop” Glee Club, 3-4 Basketball, 4 School Play, 3-4 Student Council, 4 Owl Staff, 3-4 Baseball, 4 Favorite Expression—“Oh, man!” Ambition—To be an aviator. Pastime—Throwing the “bull.” Rarely Seen—-Without a girl. Characteristic—Happy. Destiny—Man about town. —20— CHARLES GENE LUBOYESKI “Charlie” Basketball, 4 Baseball, 3-4 Favorite Expression—“Ha! Ha!” Ambition—Typing “champ.” Pastime-—Studying. Rarely Seen—Around town. Characteristic—Quiet. Destiny—-Big; business man. JULIUS GEORGE NOWAKOWSKI “Lefty” Basketball. 4 Favorite Expression—“For Christmas’ sake!” Ambition—Diug store manager. Pastime—Acting like a half-wit. Characteristic—Cheerful. Rarely Seen-—Without a heavy beard. Destiny—-Padde d cell No. 999. WESLEY FENN ROUSE “Wes” Glee Club. 3 Favorite Expression—“To heck with it!’’ Ambition—Boy Scout executive. Pastime—Winning Merit Badges. Rarely Seen—Hanging around town. Characteristic—Dignified. Destiny—To be an old bachelor. LILLIAN SARAH SIMONS “Tessy” Glee Club, 2-3 Class Secretary, 3-4 School Play, 3-4 Favorite Expression—“Christopher!” Ambition—Retain shorthand championship. Rarely Seen—Making error in shorthand class. Pastime—Roller-skating. Destiny—Shorthand teacher. —21— LAURETTA EBNER WARRENBURGER “Pug” Glee Club.. 2 Owl Staff, 3-4 School Play. 3-4 Treas. Student Council Favorite Expression—“Oh—Gee!” Ambition—To play Topsy in “Uncle Tom’s Cabin.” Rarely Seen—Without a movie magazine. Pastime—Reading. Characteristic—Indifferent. Destiny—Sarah Bernhardt II. MARY PAULINE HEFFERNAN “Pondledog” Basketball, 2-4 Glee Club. 2 Favorite Expression—“Faith, an’ I will!” Ambition—To conquer the English Channel. Rarely Seen—Stealing apples. Pastime— Sewing. Characteristic—Sincerity. Destiny—To be “First Lady of the Land.” FANNIE MARY KULASINSKI “Goomy Holze” Basketball, 4 Glee Club, 2-3 Favorite Expression—“Well I don’t see—” Ambition—To be punctual. Rarely Seen—Walking. Pastime—Chauffering. Characteristic—Curiosity. Destiny—Grade school teacher. DONNA PLATTS “Doughnuts” Glee Club, 2-3 School Play, 4 Favorite Expression—“Oh, Crimus!” Ambition—To be “Teacher’s Pet.” Rarely Secn—Where she’s supposed to be. Pastime—Reading historic novels. Characteristic—Friendliness. Destiny—Social Service Work. —22— ETHEL LENNEA SWANSON “Baby Ellah” Salutatorian Glee Club, 2 Favorite Expression—“Oh, Help!” Ambition—To outweigh Powerful Katrinka. Rarely Seen—-Walking with R. G. Pastime—Mussing Fannie’s “bangs.” Characteristic—-Temperamental. Destiny—Kindergarten teacher. RU1H JOSEPHINE NELSON “Flicka” Glee Club, 2 Favorite Expression-—“Holy Moses!” Ambition—To make the basketball team. Rare’.y Seen—In a second-hand Ford coupe. Pastime—Chasing the sheriff’s son. Characteristic—-Temperamental. Destiny—Head nurse at Mt. Sinai. RUTH LILLIAN SWANSON “Ruthie” Valedictorian Class Treasurer, 2-3-4 Glee Club, 2 Owl Staff, 3-4 Favorite Expression—“Oh, my stars!” Ambition—To beat G.N. in test on electricity. Rarely Seen—Studying. Pastime—Eagerly hurrying up town during the noon hour. Characteristic—Fidelity. Destiny—-Physics teacher. ERNA FREDA WEHRLE “Freddy” Basketball, 4 Glee Club, 2 Owl Staff 4 Fav rite Expression—“What rot!” Ambition—-To study abroad. Rarely Seen—Chewing gum. Pastime—-Doing trig problems. Characteristic—Dignity. Destiny—A German Countess. —23— The Junior Class CLASS OFFICERS President Vice President Treasurer Secretary Frank Atwood Earle Beardslee Thomas Bissell Rose Braxl Ray Bradley Grace Donahue Ola Dutcher Helene Etheridge Errol Fenn Bernice Florian Anna Halpin Ernest Hayes Edward Henderson Caroline Humphreville Bernice Hurlburt Rose Kiefer David Lackman Carol Ray Bradley Violet Rasienski Minerva Mattoon . Helen Scott Margaret Lyons Minerva Mattoon Edith Monahan Agnes O’Brien John Ostrowski Sadie Ostrowski Alfred Pratt Violet Rasienski Helen Schlauder Louise Schlauder Helen Scott Margaret Shearer Lillian Spoettle Leverett Tanner Florence Thulin Charles Tibbals Helen Tibbals Turner MEMBERS OF THE CLASS —24— School News THE SENIOR ASSEMBLY Thursday, March 23, the entire high school enjoyed a play staged by the Seniors in their annual assembly. The play, “Not Quite Such a Goose ’ was a short comedy presented by five members of the class coached by Mrs. Bailey. It. was much more convenient to give a play this year than any time heretofore, owing to the fact that the new stage could be used. The cast was as follows: Mrs. Bell ........................... Ruth Sw'anson Sylvia ................................ Erna Wehrle Albert ................................ Gilbert Nase Hazel Henderson .............. Lauretta Warrenburger Philip Flick .......................... Wesley Rouse The p'ay was a huge success and a great part of the praise rightfully belongs to the interlocutor, Charles Eggleston. Much of the success also was due tc the new stage recently purchased by the school. SENIOR DANCE The Senior Class of the Thomaston High School entertained the Alumni at a dance held in the gymnasium on Friday evening, December twenty-third. The gym was attractively decorated in red and green to represent the Christmas season. Dr. and Mrs. Wight, Mr. and Mrs. R. N. Brown and Mr. and Mrs. E. S. Mapes were patrons and patronesses. Dance music was furnished by “Wes’ Billings’ orchestra and refreshments were served. A very enjoyable evening was appreciated by everyone. THE JUNIOR PROM One of the big events of the school year is always the Junior prom. Unfortunately, The Owl comes forth in all its glory some time before this great event takes place. We must, therefore content ourselves with dwelling upon its great possibilities. It is the privilege of the Junior Class to announce that the prom will be held in the Thomaston High School gymnasium on the evening of June 1, 1928. Plans are going forward which we believe will help make this one of the most successful events of its kind ever held at the high school. Those who are privileged to attend may look forward to a most enjoyable evening. HALLOWE’EN PARTY According to the custom of Thomaston High, the Junior Class gave a Hallowe’en party to the Senior and Sophomore classes and —27— to the members of the Senior High faculty. Games were played and refreshments were served curing the evening. There were many pretty costumes and the judges found it difficult to decide on the best. Helen Schlauder received a prize for being the best dressed man and Thomas Bissell for the funniest; Carol Turner received a prize for the prettiest costume among the girls, and Dorothy Chipman for the funniest. The party was very successful and everyone enjoyed a good time. THE ENTERTAINMENT COURSE As in previous years the high school presented an entertainment course during the school year 1927-1928. The program ;, presented by well known artists, proved highly successful. The entertainments, given by the Frank Baker Company, included the popular Broadway play, “Lightnin”’; the Three Star Trio; Sue Hastings’ Marionettes, and the Harmony Entertainers, a grcup of three jolly girls. The first mentioned was very well received by the audience, as were the Marionettes, all of which gees to show the earnest support of the people. The success of this entertainment course and the benefits which the people and -chool students derive from it lead us to hope that this idea will be carried on in future years. THE SCHOOL EXHIBIT During the first week in June for a period of four days the Grammar ar.d High schools of Thomastcn plan to give an exhibition in the gymnasium. The work cf the pupils of the various grades will be exhibited and a short program will be held each afternoon. The programs which will give an explanation of the projects taken up in the various grades as well as furnish entertainment, will consist of folk dances, playlets that give explanation of the studies, and music. This is somewhat different from anything the schools have ever done before and the purpose of it is that the parents may be able to obtain some idea of what the pupils are doing in school. SHORT STORY CONTESTS The prize for the short story contest this year, which was sponsored by the Student Association, was awarded to Isabelle Dumbleton. Honorable mention was given to Lucia Dewell and Lauretta Warrenburger. TYPING AWARDS This yeai a great many students won awards for efficiency in typing. The names of the winners are as follows: REMINGTON Primary Certificate, 25 words: Henrietta Bellmay, 39; Grace THE GLEE CLUB THE ORCHESTRA Donahue, 27; Lillian Spoettle, 37. Silver Pin, 40 words: Ray Bradley, 43; Errol Fenn, 47; Rose Kiefer, 43; Sadie Ostrowski, 40. Ernest Hayes, 48; Helen Morton, 53. Gold Pin 55 words: Margaret Shearer. 58. UNDERWOOD Primary Certificate, 30 words: Florence Thulin, 30; Louise Schlauder, 30; Edward Henderson, 38; Leverett Tanner, 39. Bronze Pin. 40 words; Ray Bradley, 40; Henrietta Bellmay, 40; Sadie Ostrowski. 40; Agnes O’Brien, 41; Caroline Humphreville, 43. Errol Fenn, 43; Helen Schlauder 41; Louise Schlauder, 41; Florence Thulin, 45; Rose Kiefer, 42. L. C. SMITH Primary Certificate, 30 words: Agnes O’Brien, 35; Sadie Ostrow ,'ki 34; Edward Henderson, 30; Rose Kiefer, 30; Louise Schlauder, 39. Helen Schlauder, 36. Bronze Pin, 40 words: Grace Sheebel, 40; Caroline Humphreville, 40; Margaret Shearer, 40; Violet Rasienski, 40; Ray Bradley, 41; Margaret Lyons, 42; Florence Thulin, 40; Sadie Ostrowski, 40; Errcl Fenn, 40; Ernest Hayes, 43. Silver Pin, 50 words: Margaret Shearer, 50; Helen Morton, 50. ROYAL Primary Certificate, 30 words: Rose Kiefer, 38; Florence Thulin 39. Silver Pin, 40 words: Margaret Lyons. 40; Violet Rasienski. 47; Florence Thulin 42; Helen Schlauder 45; Errol Fenn, 49; Ray Bradley, 47; Ernest Hayes, 47; Helen Morten, 49; Sadie Ostrowski. 48. Gold Pin. 50 words: Margaret Shearer, 50; Violet Rasienski, 50; Caroline Humphreville, 50. Advanced Certificate of Proficiency, 60 words: Margaret Shearer, 60. COMMERCIAL CONTEST At a meeting of superintendents, principals and commercial teachers held in Thomaston April 18, it was decided to form a league to be called the Western Connecticut Interscholastic Commercial League. The league consists of Watertown, Terryville, Litchfield and Thomas ten. The first contest was held in Watertown May 26, the-cup being won by Thomaston. THE GLEE CLUBS The glee clubs have shown marked progress this year under the leadership of their new instructress Miss Miriam Clarke. Early last fall the girls’ glee club met and elected the following officers: Shirley Beardslee, president; Ella Bradley, secretary; Margaret; Shearer, librarian. At the same time the boys’ glee club held a —31— meeting and elected the following officers: Earle Beardslee, president; William O’Brien, vice president. Alfred Pratt, secretary and treasurer; Gilbert Nase, librarian. After several weeks of preparation, the combined glee clubs, assisted by the orchestra, gave a very interesting assembly, consisting cf vocal and instrumental selections. The clubs presented an operetta, “The Maid of the Golden Slipper ” on May 18. THE CHARM SCHOOL The student body presented its second play Tuesday evening April 24. The play was entitled “The Charm School.” It was a decided succrss and much credit is due the entire cast as well as to Miss Edi.h L'ndell, who directed it. The cast inclu ed William O’Brien Charles Eggleston, Thomas Bissell. Alfred Pratt, Gilbert Nase, Edwin Tyler, Violet Rasiensky, Bernice Hurlburt, Donna Platts Edith Mcnahan Helen Scott, Caroline Humphreville Lauretta War-renburger and Lillian Simcns. EIGHTH GRADE NEWS During Fire Prevention Week, the eighth grade gave a play to the seventh grade, entitled “The Trial of Fire.” The scene was iaid in a court room and 'different pupils took the parts of the fire hazards such as Kerosene Cigarette, Match, Electricity, Rubbish Gas, Defective Chimney, Gasolene. Lightning, Bonfire, Spontaneous Combustion. The Arch Criminal was Carelessness. Melen Holm of the eighth grade was awarded the bronze medal lor the Lincoln Essay Contest, and Betty Guernsey was given honorable mention. THE SEVENTH GRADE The Seventh grade had their Hallowe’en party in the high school gymnasium tw'o weeks after Hallowe’en. Many games were played and enjeyed by the children. Prizes were given for the funniest and prettiest costumes. Edward O’Brien was awarded the prize for the funniest and Catherine Reeves for the prettiest costume. October 18, 1927, the Seventh Grade went on a hike to White Lily pond. The children cooked hot dogs and roasted marshmallows. —32— THE ART CLASS Literary Department RED POPPIES The days before had been golden, sparkling Spring days, but this one was somehow different. The sun shone softly and the sky was a deep, calm blue over this wide land of ours, where from coast to coast flags were hung, and high, treble voices in a hundred little school houses recited: “In Flanders Fields.” It was Memorial Pay. Out in the country, standing in some quiet cemetery, perhaps, it was easy to feel the spirit of the day. Simple things, such as seeing children sprinkling waxen syringa on mossy graves, and dimly sensing the deep, sweet perfume of lilacs, made one realize the wonder of life and joy and hope. In a noisy, hot subway station somewhere in New York the spirit could not seem to enter. Some attempt had been made at decoration with flags and yards of bunting; but the blue sky, green grass anrd springtime flowers were far away from the dark corners, the flash of lights and the rush of cars. In one corner of the station was a small booth, which had been quite gay with color the day before. Now the flags drcoped dejectedly and part of the red and white crepe paper had been torn off. The slight figure of a girl leaned against it—she was selling poppies. Yesterjday she had been so very busy; nickels, dimes and even occasional quarters had dropped from the hands of passers-by. Hurrying business men, snappy salesmen, bashful, apologetic clerks— almost all had a smile for the child. For the Girl Who Sold Poppies was scarcely more than a child, and she looked very small and fragile in her rather long black dress. Evidently it was worn, not fr:m any mourning motive, but to bring out her ash-colored hair and creamy white skin. Her lips were unduly scarlet and gaudy ear-rings jingled with every move of her head, but her wide blue eyes were childlike and unsophisticated. But today was a holiday, and of the many bent on having an uproariously good time, few came to pay tribute to the cause. A tall girl paused tc gently finger the remnants of paper flowers. Though not exactly beautiful she was that sort of person not easily forgotten. It was the vivid personality rather than the rare loveliness of her face which made it so striking. She was at • jast ten years older than the Girl Who Sold Poppies, but the contrast was not kind to the little vendor. The Other Girl’s hair was i Imost black and her gray green eyes were radiant. But there was .-omething indescribably sad about them as if she had been hurt very, very much, once and had never forgotten. She nodded brightly and said, “These are the first poppies I’ve seen this season. Really, I’ve been so busy I haven’t noticed a b oth though I couldn’t let the day go by without buying one.” “Don’t they make you think of Spring?” asked the Girl Who Sold Poppies. “They make me think cf many things ” said the Other Girl, with just a hint cf tears in her voice. Then in a determinedly cheerful tone, “Do ycu know, you can do me a favor and I wish you would.” “Sure.” She was interrupted by a woman who touched her arm and ja d ra her tm dly. “May I buy a poppy?” She was apparently German and had n:t ben lerg :n this country. The hand that held out a dime was work-reddened but there was something pathetically courageous in the way she met the girl’s glance of cool scorn. “Mine boy he died too,” she murmured. “It was not I who wanted war so leng ago. Why is it that we cannot be friends?” She turned away rather bewildered in the noise and rush, but she clutched the gay, gallant little flower to her breast. It brought back to her so vividly the golden head that ha.d once lain there, and then to the tall, manly Fritz who had marched proudly off to the war never to come back. The Other Girl’s eyes were wet as she turned to the booth. “Don’t you think,” she said confidingly, “that there are hundreds of stories behind little incidents like that, that pass unnoticed every ay?” “But ” she continued, “I was just going to ask you if I could take some cf these flowers that are left and sell them, over there, where the trains come in? I’d love to and I know' I could. Please.” “Sure,” said the Girl Who Sold Poppies. The Other Girl gathered together fifty or so of the gay little flowers and deftly arranged them in a bouquet. Then making her way through the crowd, she took up her stand, outside on the platform The Girl ho Sold Poppies watched her curiously and then, shiugging a dainty shoulder, turned back to her work. Quite a crowd had collected around the stand and for the next few moments she was very busy. A stalwart looking man, not more than thirty, elbowed his way through the crow'd and stood at her side. He stared at the “Help Disabled Veterans” sign and then smiled down at the girl, w'ho said seriously, “Won’t you buy a poppy, sir?” and added, “D’y’know, I think ycu look just like a soldier!” She looked at him admiringly —36— SSVrIJ 3}IOWOH IOS 3H1 f 8w?x, -miwm t� ■ THE FRESHMEN and only then noticed that his left leg- was missing and that he walked with a crutch. He was so brave and cheerful and he looked so sort of lonesome that she longed to comfort him. “Here comes that girl who wanted to help,” she said. “I wonder if she’s sold any.” The ex-scldier turned to face the Other Girl as she came toward them. From a look of casual interest his face changed to one of burning intensity as he stepped forward. The girl stopped and faced him, her face white with two red blotches burning in her cheeks. “Paul!” she cried. And then they were in each other’s arms—ten years of fear and doubt swept away. It was a long moment before either spoke. “I thought it would be easier for you to forget,” he gasped. “How- c uld ycu?” she pleaded. “But now you know that I’ll never, never let ycu go again.” And then, over her shoulder. “Dear little girl it was ycu and your poppies that—you will be my bridesmaid ?” “Sure ” said the Girl Yvho Sold Poppies. Isabelle Dumbleton, ’30. THE DIFFERENCE A low slung roadster came to a stop before the combination village post office, grocery store and gasolene station. The driver leaned out with a bill in his hand. “Five gallons of high test.” The man at the gas station looked the car over admiringly, but shook his head at the driver’s words. “Ain’t got nene of that. But I’ve got others just as—” “No, thanks.’ said the driver as he let the clutch in. The car quickly disappeared down the road. The attendant went slowly back into his little store. There was a group of men inside; men whose cnly sumtner afternoon occupation was to get their mail or talk and listen to the baseball returns over the storekeeper’s little radio. “These smart, city fellers make me sick ” the man declared. “They always want some new-fangled ‘tested’ gas. There ain’t no difference in gas.” A few of the men nodded their heads and were silent, but one man lifted his head with interest. “Yes, there is a difference in gas,” he said slowly. “In one country gasoline may be of an entirely different quality from that of another country. Here in America we have gas, while in England it is ‘petrol,’ in France it is ‘essence and in Germany it is ‘benzol.’” The other men looked at the speaker as though they expected —39— more of an explanation. The man continued. Speaking- of gas reminds me of an incident of the late World War. at the time when the Allied forces were so hard pressed by the Germans. It seems that every time the Allies in a certain sector tried to raid a German line; the information somehow leaked through to the Boches beforehand, and they were always prepared for an attack. Officials were unable to discover how the information got through the lines, but they finally decided that some spy must work in a certain air squadorn near the German front. The American commander of the air squadron picked out a young officer whom he knew' and placed him in this squadron as a sergeant, transferring the former sergeant so that the officer might be placed in a position where he w'ould be able to try to uncover the spy or spies. Flight records were kept very accurately during the war, and on checking up the records of the different men, the keen mind of the sergeant soon noticed that a certain major was reported coming :n, at times, one to twc hours later than the rest of the planes from night- raids. Also, on checking up this major’s gas consumption, he found that the major’s plane was using more gas than any other planes for the same raids and supposedly for the same flying distance. The major’s reports showod his reason for not returning with the other planes was invariably “forced down with engine trouble.” The first test that the sergeant used to determine whether or not his suspicions were correct was to tamper with the engine of the major’s plane so that the first time after that that the major prepared tc go out on a flight, the engine wouM refuse to function. Although pretending not to see, the sergeant remained close by and watched to see what the major would do. The major, in a rage because the rest of the squadron was already in the air, issued loud commands for mechanics to give immediate attention to his plane. He stood by helplessly while the mechanics adjusted the trouble, and, in his helplessness, he wras constantly inquiring the reason why the engine did not work. This incident established the fact in the sergeant’s mind that the major knew nothing about repairing engines, anid if he had been forced down by engine trouble the number of times he claimed to have been, he would have been unable to repair his engine and return to the squadron base. A few days later orders wrere issued for an air observation early that evening to determine the strength and exact location of the enemy opposing them. This information was to aid the infantry —40— . WKv E • ..� M '� — � m mm-mt m rnmWhm 2 Tr � j awI •� e e � «■! — ”'•1 • � rTfl| A t-T c 1 � -«■«� «■ - KfB S r i sa THE SEVENTH GRADE anil artillery in making: a night attack a little later on the same night. This was really a scheme of the sergeant passed on to the commander of that sector to aid him in determining whether he had discovered the guilty man or not. Knowing that the air squadron would have to' make a very short flight to gain this information, the sergeant made sure that each plane contained only gas enough to make this flight with very little gas extra as a precautionary measure. He had ma de up his mind that if the major was conveying information to the enemy he would have to fly over their lines far enough so that he would not be seen descending by the rest of his squadron, and that he also would probably go far enough to find a suitable landing place, which would undoubtedly be a considerable distance back of the German front line trenches, as this ground was badly torn up by shell-fire. Once again the major was late and did not return with the rest of the squadron, coming back fully an hour later than the others. Wishing to prove his theory correct, the sergeant secretly communicated with the commander, and instead of ordering the infantry and artillery to attack as the original plans called for, the commander first sent out a small reconnoitering party, which discovered that the Germans were prepared to repulse an attack as though they were expecting one that night. This information caused the commander to call off the attack. When this information reached the sergeant, he proceeded to the officers’ quarters and there found the major playing card's with three other officers. Walking up to the side of the major, the sergeant saluted the officers and said: “Major, where did you'get the gas that is now in your plane?” Like all guilty men, the major knew he was caught. Springing to his feet, he attempted to draw his service automatic, but the sergeant’s automatic spoke first. The major dropped dead. The sergeant had found the gas tank of the major’s plane filled with German benzol. “You see, gentlemen,” concluded the speaker, “there is a difference in gas after all.” L. Duell. ROUGE SCHUMANN The wind made dreary sounds as it scuttled around the corners, sometimes playing hide and seek with one, and sometimes, growing bolder, wrapping itself about one like thelmeshes of a heavy net. Inside a low, rambling farmhouse, in a corner by the fire-place, sat Rouge Schumann. She was buried deep in thought, quite obliv-ous to the wind whistling in the night and to the squeals and cries of her brothers and sisters playing besilde her. Rouge was always .thinking and planning these days. Some one had to do it in the —43— Schumann household and sturdy Rouge seemed naturally to assume the responsibility. But tonight she was not thinking of bills that had to be paid nor cf necks and ears that needed washing, nor even of big patches that were sadly lacking- in several pairs of pants and in several small dresses. She was thinking that if she could only enter the Spindledinner contest she might be able to leave the petty cares and woes of the Pennsylvania Dutch household, and enter a good normal school to be fitted for a teacher’s position. With a ceterminqd gesture she arose from her chair in the corner. “I’m going down to the library,” she said. “What?” asked Pa stopping midway in his progress across the loom to lock at her. “What?” “I said I thought I’d go down to the library.” “Why, Rouge it's eight o’clock, and it will take you about forty-five minutes to walk dcwn to town.” “I’m not going to walk. I’m going to take Star.” “You can’t take that horse out at this hour of the night.” “Oh, Pa, you know as well as I do that Star doesn’t do any work on the farm. She’s getting too fat and she needs exercise.” “Oh, all right,” Pa gave his usual consent. Out in the barn Rouge wondered if she really were as foolish as she must appear. But there was a book down at the library that she wanted—a book on English and Rhetoric. She was going to enter the Spindledinner contest, even if it took every ounce of her strength and determination. Two hours later she was home, reading the book. The contest, which closed in a week, was held every year, and the prize was given to the girl who wrote the best story. Mrs. Spindledinner, a wealthy woman, had left a very large sum of money from which the prize was taken. If Rouge wrote the best story, she would receive five hundred dollars, just enough to enable her to attend normal school the next winter. Rouge loved to write stories, and so there was no difficulty with the one for the contest. She feared but one thing, and that was that Suse Hartz the butchers daughter, would win the coveted prize. Rouge sincerely disliked Susie, and the feeling was mutual. All through sch ol they had been enemies. In fact no one liked Susie. She was fat and overbearing, and her stubby hands were damp and clammy to the touch. Susie’s father was a jolly, twinkling old man who spoke with a fierce German accent. Susie was the apple of his eye and the pride cf his stout old heart. Mine Susie ” he would say, “Mine Susie, she iss so shmart dot no von con caught her on noddings, yet!” Rouge and Susie happened to mail their stories at the same time. Rouge held her head high and said “Hello” in a very cold voice. But Susie was in a talkative mood. “Well! I suppose you expect to win the prize,” she said. “I think my story will win. I’m going to have a goad time on the money.” Rouge thought no more of her, but she went home and started to work. How she hated it all! The endless drudgery of farm work when half the tocls were broken. The make-shift implements, used because money was too scarce to buy new ones. The grim spectre of poverty that haunted their footsteps every winter an that was slowly killing 'her patient, work-worn mother. It was work, werk, work, from morning until night—and then there was still more work. Sometimes Rouge wondered if she ought to leave the farm. She felt that her help there was sorely nee ded. And then she thought of her five brothers and two sisters at home. They were not weakling.'—they cculd do the work she had had to do at their age. The day on which the awards were to be made dawned bright and clear. Rouge and her father went together to the court house where the awards were to be made. Mr. Schumann was proud of his slim young daughter—the one who tock much care from his shoulders and put it on her own. The court house was crowded when they entered. Susie and her father sat up in the front, but Rouge and her father slipped into seats in the back row. The method cf awarding the prize was no original one. The three best stcries were read to the people, who voted on them by ballot. The names of the authors were not announced at first, for fear they would influence the opinions of some. The “reader” rapped for order, and began to read in a full, sonorous voice. The first story to be read was Rouge’s. The people liked it. Of the other two stories, one was Susie’s. The people l-'kcd her’s too. Finally the votes were cast and counted. The court room was silent. Everyone awaited the winner’s name. “Silence!” cried the reader. “Today it gives me great pleasure t announce that the prize of five hundred dollars goes to Miss Rouge Schumann for her story “The Black Lily.” Will Miss Schumann please step forward?” Rouge stumbled to her feet. At last her dream was realized. She could go to normal school and escape. As she went forward she saw Mr. Hartz step forward also. “Mine Susie!” he exclaimed, “For vhy not didn’t she vin no prize? Vasn’t her story goot? Yess. it vas. Den vhy don’t she get no prize?” Susie had left the building and now old Hartz was running after her, saying, “Nefer mind, Susie, I gife you five humored dollars from my own pocket!” Rouge and her father went home, where they were joyfully greeted. Late that evening, as they all sat up in the kitchen. Rouge’s father got up, stretched himself, and went into the front loom. There he remained for quite a while. When he came into the kitchen again, everyone except his wife had gone to bed. She could tell that he was worried. “What’s the matter, Pa?” she asked. “Nothing.” “Pa, what’s worrying you now?” Oh, nothing, except the interest on the mortgage is due, and you’re about killing yourself on this farm.” “Now, Pa, we’ll manage somehow,” ccmforted his wife. “We’ll .'ell the south meadow. “No,” said Pa, with decision. “The south meadow is our only hope for prosperity. We have to let the rest of the farm go, but never the south meadow.” “Pa, what’s the matter?” It was Rouge, coming back from putting the youngest Schumann to bed. Mrs. Schumann immediately toljd Rouge the whole affair. Rouge was silent for a while. Then with a slow gesture she turned to her father. “Pa, if you want the five hundred, you can have it.” Despair was in Rouge’s voice, for just as her happiness seemed firm in her grasp, she saw it flit away like some will-o-the-wisp. “But your normal school, Rouge. You wanted it so much. You can’t give it up like this!” “That’s all right, Pa. I’ll take that job down in Singmaster’s store and I can go next year.” After much arguing, Mr. Schumann finally accepted the money. Rouge seemed to want him to have it. That night, however, wihen she was alone, she was less philosophical about the matter of her education. She despaired of leaving the farm, but her father had needqd the money and she could not find it in her heart to refuse him. Years later Rouge Schumann was destined to be one of the richest landholders of the section, but tonight her future looked dark indeed. When she.was in bed, she thought to herself, “This means that T’ve got to stay on the farm another dreary year. But I’ll save; i’ll save money and go tc school somehow. Other people have done it, and so can I. But it’s hard—life is like that—life is hard.” And turning over, her hands clutching the pllow, she tried to s1eeP- Lauretta Warrenburger, ’28. FOR THE GOOD OF THE TEAM Barry Browning and Budd Smith came up the street together and as they reached the front steps of the Crawford School, Budd’s homely face lighted in a pleasant grin. A small group gathered cn —46— the steps turned his way. “Hear the news?” he asked. “What news?” Andy Kirk demanded. Mi)|dred Hartmcn, who had been sitting on the top step studying Latin, turned her bespectacled eyes on Andy. “Can it be,” she inquired mildly, “that something has happened in the school that the great Andy Kirk doesn’t know about?” Andy stuck out his tongue. “There can be,” he answered gravely. Then his curiosity got the better of him. “What news?” he repeated, turning to Budd. “About the county tennis tournament.” Budd explained. “They’re going to hold—” But Andy was smiling derisively. “How can there be a tennis tournament in March?” he demanded. “What are we going to do, play in snowshoes?” “Indoors,” Budfl announced briefly. Andy’s eyes widened. “Oh!” “And we’ll play in tennis shoes,” Mildred told him, dryly, “with rackets and little rubber balls that bounce.” Even Barry chuckled at Andy’s discomfiture; but Budd, serious as usual, drew a letter from his pocket and held it out to us. “It’s from North Amboy High School,” he said. “They’re going to hold an indoor tennis tournament a week from Saturday for the championship of this county.” “Individual championships, do you mean?” Andy inquired. “No.” Budd answered, “the school championship.” “How will they count, the points?” Dot Howard asked. “Each school,” Budd explained, “will enter four girls and four boys. There will be two single matches and two double matches for both the—er—men and ladies. And the school that wins the most matches at the end of the round robin will be the county champion.” “It will take more than one day to do that,” said Barry. “Yes, but the tournament will continue on through next week.” “It’s too bad,” Mildred Hartmon called from her place on the top step, “that Crawford can’t enter a team.” “Why can’t we?” Andy demanded, “Because we don’t know anything about indoor tennis,” Mildred snapped. Probably none of us. had thought seriously of entering the county tournament before she spoke; but now Andy, sensing a challenge in her words, turned eagerly toward the rest of the crowd. “Whatever you girls decide to do,” he said to Barry, “we’re going to enter a team.” “Well,” Barry told him, her eyes twinkling, “I never knew the beys cf Crawford to do something the girls couldn’t do, too. S) we’re w.th you.” The word was final. “ ou’rc all crazy,” Mildred told us with her usual frankness. But after classes were dismissed at three o’clock, and a group of us had gathered at Barry’s house to discuss the tournament, .Mildred entered enthusiastically into the plan; and when Andy chided her about it, she only grinned. “I still think we’re rather foolish to enter,” she said, “but, of course as long as we’ve started, we’ve got to do our best.” “01 course ” Budd agreed. “Eut. Mildred added primly, “I don’t think we’ll have a chance in the world.” We found, however, that our chances were not nearly as bad a? M Idred would have us believe. Bvidd, Andy Mildred and I had all played lei nis on the indoor courts cf the North Anr'boy armory. “An: the other members cf the team can pick up the knack of it after a little practice ” said Andy. “We’ll see if we can’t get the use of a couple of courts some afternoon this week.” “Some one ought to phone down and make arrangements,” I suggested. “I’ll do it ” Budd said. While he was inside the telephone booth, we discussed the membership of the Crawford team. “It’s simple enough to choose eight people,” Andy declared. “Of the boys, there will be Budd, Bill Woodruff, Hugh Potter and me.” “And of the girls,” Barry added, “Dot Howard, Mildred, Jane and I.” “And you will notice,” Mildred put in, looking at Andy, “that Barry’s English was correct.” “Ch this isn’t English we’re talking about,” Andy answered grimacing at her. “It’s a tennis tournament.” Budd came back just then to tell us that if we entered a team in the matches, we could have the Armory for practice on Friday afternoon. “That’s all we nce d ” Andy declared, confidently. “We may 'ot win the tournament, but we’ll let the other teams know we’re in it.” B t although the chances were against our winning, Barry Browning at least cherished visions of a championship. She was the best tennis player cf the girls of the school, and had been captain of our outdoor team. So, naturally, she assumed direction of the team to play in the indoor tournament. At assemibly the next morning, she announced the selections we had made. “But if there are any other girls whic would like to try for the team she finished, “they should speak to me about it before —48— Friday and we can arrange for a tryout.” We did not expect anybody to speak to Barry about it, for the four of us who constituted the team were, without doubt, the strongest players in Crawford High. But after school that after-r m, when Barry and I were walking home together, Zilda Lawson joined us. “I’d like to see you about the tennis tournament,” she announced. None of us liked Zilda very much. She was a new girl, having entered after Christmas vacation; and although she was well dressed and pleasant enough in a way, there was something about her which awakened in us a feeling of dislike which was almost antagonism. She was rather a spoiled child, I think, and the most conceited person in the school. So, when Zilda mentioned the tournament, Barry frowned. “Do you mean you’d like to try for the team?” she asked. “Yes,” Zilda answered, “I played a good deal at boarding school last year, and”—she smiled superciliously—“I’m not exactly a novice, you know.” Barry regarded her doubtfully. “Have you played indoors?” “No,” Zilda answered, “but I can, of course.” “You’ll find it much different,” Barry persisted. Zilda’s eyes darkened. “Are you trying to discourage me,” she asked abruptly, “so that I won’t replace one of your special friends on the team?” “No,” Barry told her, “I’m not trying to do that.” “What I want you to do,” Zilda explained suddenly, “is to let me play one of the members of your team. If I beat her, then she’ll have to give me her place.” “That’s fair enough,” Barry agreed. “Mildred Hartmon’s the weakest of the girl players, so you can play her on Friday afternoon.” “And beat her, Zilda added. Stopping at the corner of the street which led to her home, she bowed with a hint of mocking. “And I thank you!” Barry’s face reddened. “I’m hoping with all the hope I’ve got ’ she said, after Zilda had gone, “that Mildred beats her.” “What about Mildred?” I asked. “Do you think she’ll want to play Zilda?” “She won’t be crazy about it, but there’s only one thing to do,” Barry grinned. “To play the game and let the best man win.” “But Mildred won’t be any too tickled,” I said. Barry nodded. “No, but she’s a good sport. Maybe, though, we ought to tell her about it.” I agreed, wondering how Mildred would take it, and when we reached Barry’s house we both went in to the telephone, where Barry called up Mil|dred. Mildred, although she wasn’t terribly —49— pleased, agreed to play Zilda on Friday. “And she said,” Barry told me, chuckling, “that she’d rather lose her right arm than be beaten by that insufferable talking-machine.” “But she won’t be beaten,” I said. But Barry wasn’t so sure and after we had seated ourselves before the open fire in the library, she cupped her chin in her hands and gazed thoughtfully into the crimson embers in the grate. Mr. and Mrs. Browning came in, nodded to us, and found chairs rear the center table. “Gallagher’s leaving next week,” Mr. Browning stated. Barry looked up, suddenly interested. “Leaving the bank, you mean ?” “Yes,” Mr. Browning smiled, doubtfully. “And I’m in a quandary as to whom to appoint cashier in his place.” “What about Mr. Johnson, his assistant?” Barry asked. Her father shook his head. “He’s the logical man, of course. He’s been with us a long time, and he’d make a good cashier.” “I don’t see why you are worrying then,” Mrs. Browning said. Mr. Browning frowned. “Johnson,” he explained, “is personally distasteful to me; there are many things about him which I do not like, which rather get- on my nerves. As president, I naturally have close contact with the cashier, and I do not look forward to intimacy with Johnson.” ‘What else can you do except appoint him?” Barry asked. “Promote young Jack Merritt over his head,” he answered. “Jack is almost as good a banker, anjd it would be a pleasure to work with him. Moreover, he’s a personal friend of ours.” “Yes,” said Barry, ibut neither she nor her mother made any suggestion; and after a few minutes, Mr. Browning stood up and came over to the fireplace. “How are things going at school?” he asked. We told him about the tennis tournament and about the match between Mildred and Zilda next Friday; and when we had finished, be smiled rather wistfully. “I guess,” he said, “that none of us is altogether free from responsibilities.” But Barry, after the first shock of Zilda’s request, refused to won y about the tournament, and on Friday afternoon, when we all drove down to Amboy in Budd’s big Peerless, she was as carefree as ever. Mildred, though, was frankly worried. “I’ve got to win,” she whispered, and set her lips grimly. Zilda, sitting in one of the extra seats, spent, most of her time telling us what a good player she was, how she bad won the champ-.onship at boarding school last year, and how no less person than —50— Molla Mallory had predicted a great future for her. “Funny,” Andy said, speaking over his shoulder, “that I didn’t notice your name in any of the big tournaments.” “I’m too young yet to go in them, “Zilda answered seriously. “But this spring I expect to start.” Mildred, listening looked rather dubiously at Barry and me. impulsively, Barry reached over and patted her on the shoulder. “Good luck to you!” she whispered. So, when the match began, Mildred knew that all of us were rooting hard for her to win, although the rules of the game forbade us showing our preference. Mildred, taking courage, proceeded tO' play a brand of tennis which caused our eyes to open in pleased surprise. She lobbed the ball, and smashed it and slammed it with all the skill and abandon of a Helen Wills. “Gee!” Budd said, and poked his muscled finger into the small of Andy’s back. “Zilda is only a bluff, after all.” But Budd had lost sight of the fact that Mildred was familiar with indoor tennis and that her opponent had never played upon anything but turf or clay. The ball, bouncing high from the hard boards, bothered her, sq that she could not set herself for forcing returns. And I imagine that she sensed the hostility of the rest of us, for she played mechanically, without inspiration. In less than ten minutes, Mildred had won the first set, 6 to 2. When they changed courts, Mildred passed us near the net and smiled happily. But Zilda, walking by with lowered head, said never a word; suddenly, I felt sorry for her. “Good work!” I called, and she looked up, gratefully; but Andy frowned down upon me. “What’s the big idea?” he grumbled. “Everybody ought to have his chance,” I said, and Barry nodded. Possibly Zilda was encouraged by the fact that someone had spoken kindly to her or possibly it was just because she was becoming more accustomed to the indoor court, but at any rate, her play showed improvement in the second set. She stroked the ball with greater confidence, rushed occasionally to the net, and lobbed neatly and precisely. But Mildred was still playing inspired tennis, and in spite of Zilda’s improvement, she won four of the first five games. “It’s all over now but the shouting,” Andy remarked, not caring whether Zilda heard or not. “And another bubble has burst!” Zilda must have been able to distinguish his words, for she paused in the middle of a rally and let the ball go.by without any attempt to hit it back. Then, she walked over to the sideline, took a swallow or two of water, and returned to the court. “Now!” she said to Mildred, and proceeded to win the next five games in succession, and with them the set, 6 to 4. Then they —51— changed courts for the tnird ana ceciriing set of the matcn. But before they had finished the first game, an interruption occurred. The man in charge of the armory came out of his office and told us gently and firmly that it was six o’clock and the building had to be closed in ten minutes. We protested vehemently, but in vain; then, because there was nothing else to do, we walked out to Budd’s car and looked at one another doubtfully. “Well,” Ar dy asked, “what are we going to do about the girls’ team ?” “Maybe we can have Mildred and Zilda finish the match next week some time,” Barry suggested. But Budd shook his head. “The armory has been engaged for every afternoon until Saturday.” “We’ll have to decide some other way, then.” “Yes,” Budd answered. “It’s up to you; you’re captain,” Andy said to Barry. She might have begged out cf it, but she acepted the job without protest. “I’ll announce on Monday which of you has made the team ” she told Mildred and Zilda. “They both nodded, making no comment, but there was a light of triumph in Mildred’s eyes. For she had won mere games than Zilda in the uncompleted match—and she was Barry’s friend. Mildred considered the place already hers. But Barry was bothered about something, for all the way home she was unusually quiet, and when Budd had dropped us off in front of her house she asked me to come into supper. I met Barry talking to her mother and father in the library, telling them about the match that afternoon. “Mildred won more games,” she said, “and I’d prefer to give her first choice, of course, for I like her immensely and I don’t like Zilda at all.” “Why don’t you select her, then?” Mr. Browning asked. Barry’s blue eyes were wistful, but resolute. “Zilda is a better player than Mildred. She only lost the first set because she was unfamiliar with the indoor court; and she showed in the second set that she is capable of beating Mildred nine times out of ten.” “But ycu don’t like her,” I protested, “and the rest of us v ouldn t want her on the team. You’ve got an excuse for keeninir her off.” “We’re not looking for an excuse to keep her off,” Barry said, slowly, “but a reason to put her on.” I nodded, miserably, knowing that Barry was right, and also knowing that Zilda was a much better player than Mildred. “So, as long as it’s up to me,” Barry continued, “I’m going to decide in favor of Zilda.” ‘It that final?” asked Mr. Browning, curiously. Yes, Barry aswered. “It almost breaks my heart to go back cn Mildred and there won’t be any fun playing with Zilda; but I’m doing it—for the good of the team.” “And in the interests of fair play,” Mr. Browning added. “You may remember that a few cays age I told you about a problem of mine down at the bank.” “Yes,” Barry answered. “Well, it’s not a problem any more,” her father continued. “I decided tonight to appoint Mr. Johnson cashier.” “But why this sudden decision?” Mrs. Browning asked. “This morning—” “I did it,” Mr. Browning answered, smiling ever so slightly, “fer the good of the team.” Helen E. Scott, ’29. THE MISSION OF A MUSICIAN He came by train on a drizzly, dark night in midwinter, with gusts of wind grasping at his coat and clutching his valise as he stepped off the creaking old station platform into the lone cab drawn up there. The station master looked inquisitively over the top of his paper and then resumed his perusal of the Kelton News. “Some night for a stranger to be landing in Kelton,” he soliloquized. “Wonder who he could be.” The taxi driver perhaps wondered who his patron might be, but if he did he remained taciturn and another mug of liquor at the old bar, from the generous proceeds of the trip, swept it entirely from his befogged mind. The innkeeper said never a word of the man who had come to him at midnight and asked for a back room as secluded as possible. Nor did he remark when the faint strains of violin music reached his ears at frequent intervals. In a distant metropolis consternation reigned. The young hero of the hour, whose success had been assured at his brilliant debut the previous night, lay sick and perhaps dying in a private room in the great hospital. In the hall, reporters from various presses besieged the nurses and sent periodical telegrams to their respective papers. “Still unconscious and delirious” was the last Lulletin presented to the anxious, curious crowd outside. In a low rambling house, far from the tumult of the subway and the elevated, hidden behind the sheltering camouflage of trees and set by itself near the top of a mountain was the mother of the young virtuoso. She rocked to and fro rhythmically in the creaking old rocking chair where she had sung her baby son to sleep only yesterday, it seemed. She hummed now and tried to picture him bowing to the frantic crowd—she knew they would like him—and playing encores one after another. She pictured the radiance of his smile in the dancing flames of the fireplace. Then she ceased to rock as she watched, transfixed, the curious embers suddenly flame fitfully up and blacken smokily. Was that a voice? No. someone was knocking;. “Come,” she whispered, as she opened the door, her white face gleaming; in the uncanny light, her dark eyes searching; the stranger’s face. “What is it?” she gasped, sinking into a chair. “Tell me.” “Only a telegram,” rasped the other, brusquely. Mrs. Francis Orloff: Your son is in Williams Hospital. He is suffering a complete breakdown. Must operate immediately. He is delirious. Can you come? Dr. Vellier. “He is dying, my sen, my son,” she moaned. “What shall I do?” “I have a car, ma’am. Would that help. Yes, ma’am, I’ll see to that. No one shall know you’re gone.” Sympathetic crowds bared their heads as the white haired little mother walked tremu lously into the huge hospital. “You wish to see Claude Orloff? He sees no one. . . . Oh, you’re his mother! Right this way, please.” “Mrs. Orloff? I am Dr. Vellier. Your son’s case is very critical. Try to quiet him and have him sleep. We will leave you alone with him, but I am within call.” “I’ll try,” she whispered brokenly, “but, Doctor, say he has a chance,” she begged. “He has, Mrs. Orloff, if he sleeps.” Oh, C laude Claude darling, it’s mother,” she spoke reassuringly. “Speak to me, dear.” “The lights, the noise, the crowds, they call for me. . . Oh, I must play. They are waiting. No, no, no—” “Claude, dear, it’s all right. Mother is here.” And then the senseless repetition of his first remark. “Claude, let me talk to you. I am going to take you home with me soon. We will walk in the woods and hear the binds. First, you must rest a while for the journey. Would you like that?” “Oh, Mother,—you! I have been dreaming. Did you like my playing?” “Everybody loved your music, Claude, we all do. Now won’t you go to sleep?” Y hy, Mother, how did you guess? I have been awake for ages and I’m dreadfully tired. Stay with me? I’ll wake scon.” “Yes, darling, just rest now.” Gray dawn broke over the hills and the world was happy, that is, the world looked happy. However, Alexander Mann, the newest hotel guest, cased his violin with a sigh and looked at his supper, ecljd and untempting, on the table where the cook had placed it the night before. “Paper, sir,” shouted the hall boy lustily, as a bundle thudded —54— against the door. Reaching- greedily for the paper, the old man poured through the items feverishly. Here it was at last. “Claude Orloff, the season’s success, collapsed shortly after his last recital number ar,d was quietly rushed to the Williams Hospital while the good-natured audience, well pleased with the concert, endeavored t o bring him back to the stage by applause. His debut was the achievement of a finished artist. His perfect rendition was exquisite. The equal to this concert has never been heard in this city.” If only they would say more about Claude. How cruel that people should think so much cf the beauty of the pieces and so little of the soul, the heart, the very life that makes that music appealing. How much had Claude realized in his delirium? What bad those wild, roving eyes apprehended ? Now he had only to wait. At dawn the doctor came to Claude’s rtocm and called the faithful mother away. “I must tell you now the whole story of your son’s illness. He is out of danger and he will recover, but hew much of his former life and friends he will recall we can only tell when he wakes. He was brought here late the night of the concert by an old man who was very commanding and seemed a close friend. He gave no name and we only learned your son’s name from the cabman. No one knows who the stranger was nor where he went. The few behind stage knew no such person and had not even seen Claude leave. He owes his life to the old man, however, for if cur operation had waited longer, he would have died or, at best, been left a lunatic all his life. As for his concert, although I do not understand how he did it in his condition, the critics approve it and the public too for—look!” Drawing back the curtain he showed, standing in the drizzling rain, the crowds who had already supplied their idol with too many flowers and presents. Every step in the slow convalescence of Claude Orloff was watched for in the papers by eager millions. Some in their perusal of the news might have noticed an inconspicuous notice: “Victor Nicholas, who no longer continues his classes in violin here, has turned them over to Alexander Mann of Kelton.” Some may have wondered, since Nicholas was the foremost teacher in the city. Claude read the item carefully, then re-read it. “Who is Mann of Kelton, I wonder?” he mused. “I should like to meet him when I go home. I wish I could get hold of Nicholas and tell him how I have missed my lessons with him and thank him for bucking me up on the night of the concert.” “Perhaps you can some day, my boy. Now don’t think about that any more, please,” said his mother. Frequently now the hotel heard the violin, and often the master —55— lessons of Alexander Mann sent more than one callous listener into deep reverie. Night after night at the same time the soft strains v f heartbreaking music wrung from the anguish of a soul in combat penetrated the walls of the teacher’s room and silenced the loquacious inmates. Arad always with the last sobbing strains of music, the teacher’s brow cleared and the battle within was again won by right. He was poor. Many of his pupils had gone to study with Orkff. He fought at every mention of the concert to keep his self-imposed quiet. He must not ruin Claude’s career. Spring and summer passed and a few glimpses of Claude, stolen from back windows and side streets, made it almost impossible to keep silent. Here was the man whose life he had saved, the man who had been unable to go on to the stage at his debut, the man for whom he, Victor Nicholas, had braved the footlights and played lo an audience who suspected no substitution—this man had received all the praise, adoration, promotion and wealth that had been the results of the successful concert. Here was the man for whom he, the most noted teacher in the country, had found it necessary to disappear. These were the speeches of the man in him, but the artist spoke thus: Here is the pupil whom you loved and saved from disgrace. Here is the lad whose success is doubly due o you. What do you care for the public’s acclamation if you have a friend ? So Claude met his old teacher again. Played with him again and succeeded in regaining the one thing no one but Victor Nicholas could supply for him,—his self confidence. So “Old Vic,” as Alexander Mann had come to be known, sat one evening before the inn’s fireplace and read an account of the last splendid success of his former pupil. “I’m glad,” he exclaimed, as he dropped the papers and walked to his room. “Let’s see if I still remember these pieces,” he murmured, and raising his violin, he played the familiar group that never failed to stir the most rustic minds and the most godless souls of the little inn audience. “Success was too late for me, but not too late to help Claude. I am more happy in his success than mine could ever make me.” Carol Turner, ’29. Poetry FALLING LEAVES The wind blows Shaking the trees. The age crisped leaves no longer Subtly withstand the breeze, But softly yield to its embrace Fluttering down with careless grace. A counterpane of brightest lace Over the ground is spread. The leaves are dead. Softly the lonesome boughs Watching them fly Sing them a sweet farewell, Some plaintiff lullaby. The autumn will depart, too, soon. Her playmate leaves are still, they seem to swoon, The ice-clad branches gleaming neath the moon L cng for the spring With every other living thing. Carol Jean Turner, ’29. WE SOPHOMORES The Seniors—well, they are a wonder. The Juniors—oh, yes, they are bright. The Freshmen we do not consider, But the Sophomore class? We’re all right. The Seniors own most of T. H. S., The Juniors come in for the rest— Yet even with this they’re unhappy, For they know that we Sophs are the best. The public just simply ignores us— No notice of us do they take— So we’ll take up this space to tell them, They’re making one big mistake. Learn the truth, you Seniors and Juniors, Why, even the Freshmen admit That the very best class in the High School Is the Sophomores—and we’re it. Doris Barrett, ’30. TO THE OWL I It’s not an owl, that must howl To say. “Who oo will look at me?” For all that’s in it is the limit, And today It’s the best that it can bo. II There’s no fake about its make; It’s clean-cut. Just Simple and True. It’s about sports of almost all sorts And what— There’s good stories in it. too. III In one word, it’s not a silly bird, Nor is This a petty fowl. With all its witty jokes about cur High School folk-;. I’d not miss That magazine, “The Owl.” Violet Rasienski, ’2J. THE TEACHER’S VISION The teacher sat and gazed upon her pupils. She saw beyond the years that were to come, The while unconsciously her students thought Of the important present as they worked. Reading success and failure, struggle, ease Endeavor, hardship, sorrow and remorse, She felt in sympathy with their very pain, Rejoiced at each achievement, every gain. Now time had touched their faces, left its mark, And on its wayward journey taken some To peace and quietness beyond the throng Of restless toilers, hustling to their work. —58— On moved their paths from time to time, More frequently than they had done before, The stragglers, falling back, chose devious paths, ’Til lost in all the maze they wandered far. The leaders, too, debated on the paths. Some chose the reeky ones and some the smooth; The foremost, looking farther, turned aside; Each beat his own lone path straight toward his goal. Thus, genius like the idlers left the crowd. Deserted friends and made his own good road, Observed the short cut, took his chance, and rose, By keener sight, above his fellow men. —Carol Jean Turner, ’29. BOBBY MEDITATES My mother's awful kinc of funny. She thinks I’m just a child, ’Cause when I’m bad : he’s never mad, But just so calm and mi’4 She says. “I fear my little Robert’s Been sort of bad again—” Gee! I wish she wouldn’t do it, I feel embarrassed. And when The other kids are ’round there They laugh and laugh and sneer, And then they start to laugh again, When Mom starts that “I fear—” She treats me like a baby; I wish she’d get a stick And holler, ‘‘Bobby, stop that!” And run after me so quick-Then the kids they wouldn’t say I was “mother’s darling child.” Gosh! I guess my mother’ll always be Just so — calm and mild. My! there’s mud all over me. And here’s M:m coming—wow! “My little Robert must come in.” “Yes Mom, I'm coming now.” —Lucia Deweli, ’30. GIRLS BASKETBALL The Thomaston High School girls’ crack basketball team met with great success this season. Through team work and good playing •cn the part of every player, the girls won the league championship. The team played twelve games, lost two, and tied one. The members cf the girls’ team include Florence Thulin, captain, Sadie Ostrowski, Erna Wehrle, Dorothy Ghipman, Bernice Hurlburt and Margaret Lyons. The subs include Fannie Kulasinski, Minerva Mattoon, Helen Schlautder, Mary HefFernan and Charlotte Sangster. A sumary of the games is as follows: Thomaston, 6; Crosby, 7 Thomaston, 25; Litchfield, 13 Thomaston, 30; Watertown, 10 Thomaston, 29; New Milford, 22 Thomaston, 21; Terryville, 11 Thomaston, 27; Alumni, 0 Thomaston, 17; Watertown, 6 Thomaston, 23. Litchfield, 17 Thomaston, 11; Crosby, 11 Thomaston, 18; Terryville, 4 Thomaston. 32; Washington, 22 Thomaston, 4; Naugatuck, 18 BOYS’ BASKETBALL The Thomaston High School boys’ basketball team was not as successful as the girls’. The team played ten games and won only two. The members of the boys’ team are Robert Goodall, captain, Earle Beardslee, Kenneth Gill, John Ostrowski, Charles Eggleston, —60— THE BOYS BASKETBALL TEAM THE GIRLS’ BASKETBALL TEAM A sum- Charles Lubo.yeski., William O’Brien and George Madeux. mary of the games is as follows: Thomaston, Thomaston, Thomaston, Thomaston, Thomastcn, Thomaston, Thomaston, Thomaston, Thomaston, Thomaston, 18; Clovers, 22 24; Litchfield, 37 16; Watertown, 42 28; New Milford, 29 14; Terryville, 47 33; Plainville, 11 13. Watertown, 39 8; Litchfield. 32 23; Plainville, 17 7; Terryville, 30 INTERCLASS BASKETBALL Much interest has been shown in the interclass basketball games. The 8B girls’ team won the Junior High School championship. The 8B boys also won the Junior High School championship. The Junior girls won the title of school champions by winning all their games. The Senior boys are also entitled to the name of school champions, for they also won every game. BASEBALL With a new baseball field in sight, the Thomaston High School baseball team is looking forward to a very successful season. Man- ager Charles Eggleston has arranged the following schedule: April 25 Plainville away May 1 Litchfield here May 4 Watertown away May 11 Terryville here May 15 New Milford here May 18 Litchfield away May 22 Terryville away May 25 Plainville here June 5 Watertown here ATHLETIC HONORS Athletic honors this year were awarded to those playing in at least half of the games. The honors, a block letter, were presented to the following: Florence Thulin Robert Goodall Sadie Ostrowski Earle Beardslee Charlotte Sangster John Ostrowski Erna Wehrle Kenneth Gill Dorothy Chipman Charles Eggleston Margaret Lyons William O’Brien Bernice Hurlburt George Medeux Minerva Mattoon —63— Mr. Mapes: Name some important land battles in the War of 1812. Chick E.: The battle of Lake Erie. Mr. Mapes: Suppose you tell us of some, Kenneth. Kenneth G.: Well, there was the battle of New Orleans down around Kentucky somewhere. Mr. Mapes: Name some of the battles on the sea? W. R use: You mean on the ocean? Physics Prof.: Is the answer anything but 60 inches? Brilliant Student: Yes, five feet! Joe G. (taking cigarette out): Got a match? Louise S. (pointing to Helen S.): There’s my match. Miss Rhoda: What are economic conditions? Billy B.: Scotch! Miss Goodwin: I call my nine o’clock French division the lullman class—three sleepers and an observation section. Miss Buck: Very apt. I call my three o’clock Cicero the pcny express. Sam: Lize, I hear dey’s found ol’ Marse Phil guilty of bigamy. Lize: What is bigamy? Sam: Having two wives. L:ze: Huh, dat ol’ scamp prob’bly guilty of trigonometry. —64— Drummie: You remind me of the wild sea waves. Pupil: Oh-h-h. because I am so restless and unconquered? Drummie: No, because you’re all wet and you make me sick. Advice to Latin Stridents: Foolo, ere, failli, flunkus. Teacher: What letter of the alphabet comes after “H”? Pupil: I don’t know. Teacher: Now think. What have I on each side of my nose ? Pupil: Looks like powder from here. Drummie: Did you ever take chloroform? Brite Stude: No, what period does it come? Edythe: Bernice says there is something dove-like about me. Bill: There is—you’re pigeon-toed. Heard in Freshman English: Jim dragged his mother into a ditch out of the sight of the blind man. - c;r - THE CLASS OF 1927 DA VIDA MARTHA BLAKESLEE ...................... Danbury, 'Conn. Danbury Normal School, Danbury, Conn. MARY AGNES DANAHER ........................... Hartford, Conn. Aetna Life Insurance Co., Hartford, Conn. FRANCES ROSE DOYLE ........................ New Haven, Conn. Albertus Magnus College, New Haven, Conn. GEORGE ROBERT EGGLESTON .......................... Troy, N. Y. Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute, Troy, N. Y. PHILIP MASON FISCHER ...................... Waterbury, Conn. National Biscuit Co., Waterbury, Conn. ESTHER MARY FLYNN ......................... New Britain, Conn. New Britain Normal School, New Britain, Conn. FLORENCE IRENE GLENNON .................... Waterbury, Conn. Perry’s Secretarial School, Waterbury, Conn. JOSEPH RICHARD GRANO ...................... Thomjaston. Conn. DOROTHY LILLIAN HIGGINS ................... Waterbury, Conn. Nurses Training School, Waterbury, Conn. DOROTHY GRACE HOTCHKISS ....................... Norwalk, Conn. Hillside Preparatory School, Norwalk, Conn. AGNES FREDA JENSEN ........................ Thomaston, Conn. Thomaston Metal Works, Thomaston, Conn. ANNA MARGARET KIEFER ...................... Waterbury, Conn. Office of Manufacturers’ Foundry, Waterbury, Conn. HARROW MUIR KINDNESS ...................... Thomaston, Conn. Seth Thomas Clock Co., Thomaston, Conn. JULIA ALMA KNOX ........................... Thomaston, Conn. RUTH WILHELMINA LUNDAHL ................. South Hadley, Mass. Mount Holyoke College, South Hadley, Mass. HELEN VERONICA McGOWAN .................... Hartford, Conn. Travelers Insurance Co., Hartford, Conn. RAYMOND HENRY MADEUX ...................... New, Haven, Conn. Construction Work, New Haven, Conn. BERNICE FRANCES MARTIN .................... Thomaston, Conn. Timekeeper in Marine Shop, Thomaston, Conn. GEORGE MAIN MILLSPAUGH .................... Thomaston, Conn. Timekeeper in Marine Shop, Thomaston, Conn. LLISE DORIS PARKE ......................... Bridgeport, Conn. Froebel Normal School, Bridgeport, Conn. LAURETTA AGNES RYAN (Mrs. John Mateau), Bridgeport, Conn. GEORGE MARSHALL SANGSTER .................. Thomaston, Conn. Socony Gas Station, Thomaston, Conn. ELROY EDWARD SIMONS ....................... Philadelphia, Pa. Insurance, Philadelphia, Pa. —G6— Whoever Thought An Alarm Clock Could Be So Attractive? How often have you expressed a desire for an alarm clock that possessed a dual personality — one that would perform its un-p;pular duty in the morning', and during the rest of the day radiate a cheerful atmosohere. S E l H T H () M A S EIGHT-DAY ALARMS ‘ n:mde in lovely Colonial style are the answer to such a request. Fine giained mahogany cases; gaily decorated dials with quaint numerals, the Alden ani Standish will give you a lifetime of service and add a truly decorative touch to ycur bedroom. STANDISH Authentic and lovely. Mahogany case with de orated diai and lower panel. Height 8% inches. Eight-day automate alarm movement. $15.00 ALDEN The Aiden, GY inches square, is small enough for the bedside stan;;, desk or dressing table. M ; hogany case., quaintly decorated dial and 8-day automatic a-larm movement. $12.50 I . ■ — 4711 II SETH THOMAS CLOCK COMPANY THOMASTON, CONN. New York —G7— Chicago San Francisco After High School— WHAT? ' • • . V .. . High school graduates are, offered at Bay Path Institute the following opportunities for advanced., study: 1. College Grade Courses, ' two years rn duration, in Business Administration, Secretarial Training,' and Commercial Normal Training. • ' • ■ ‘ A , J :g k 2. Eight shorter business courses, varying from eight to eighteen months in length, leading to definite business positions. • •Credit toward a degree is granted: for, work in the two-year Bay Path courts by the business divisions of several of the large Eastern Universities. . - . Send for Catalog. BAY PATH INSTITUTE SCHOOL OF BUSINESS TRAINING 100 Chestnut Street SPRINGFIELD, MASSACHUSETTS COMPLIMENTS OF THOMASTON MANUFACTURING CO. NORTH MAIN STREET GARAGE H. E. GRIMBHAW, Prop. NORTH MAIN STREET TELEPHONE 186 Storage, Automobile Supplies and Repairs Gas and Oils — OK — CANDYLAND LOUIS GARDELLA, Prop. WHOLESALE AND RETAIL DEALERS IN CANDIES, ICE CREAM AND FRUITS AUGUST WEHRLE DEALER IN DRY GOODS AND NOTIONS URADSTREET’S BLOCK - - TELEPHONE CONNECTION THOMASTON TEA STORE WILLIAM H. LYONS, Prop. FRESH TEAS, COFFEES, BAKING POWDER CHINA - PYREX - ALUMINUM - AGATE WARE Satisfaction Guaranteed or Money Refunded QUALITY HAT SHOP Mrs. Angeline Lauretano HEMSTITCHING - NEEDLEWORK PARK STREET THOMASTON, CONN. NORTHEASTERN UNIVERSITY THE SCHOOL OF ENGINEERING In co-operation with engineering; firms offers four year curriculums leading to the Bachelor’s degree in the following branches cf engineering: CIVIL ENGINEERING CHEMICAL ENGINEERING, ELECTRICAL ENGINEERING, INDUSTRIAL ENGINEERING, MECHANICAL ENGINEERING. THE SCHOOL OF BUSINESS ADMINISTRATION Co-operating with business firms, offers four year collegiate courses leading to the Bachelor’s degree of BUSINESS ADMINISTRATION in BUSINESS MANAGEMENT or in ACCOUNTING FINANCE. The Co-cperative Plan of training enables the student to combine theory with practice and makes it possible for him to earn his tuition and a part of his other school expenses. Students admitted in either September or January may complete the scholastic year before the following September. Fcr catalogue and further information write to NORTHEASTERN UNIVERSITY MILTON J. SCHLAGEN'HAUF. Director of A:missions BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS Five year program on co-operative plan on and after Sept. 5, 1929. H. L. BLAKESLEE Woodruff’s Garden Seed, Baby Chicks, Hardware, Aluminum Ware, Kyanize Paint and Varnish, Columbia Bicycles, Colonial House Paint, Fishing Tackle, Nesco Oil Stoves and Ovens, Gas Stoves, Auto Supplies and Sundries ATWATER KENT RADIOS AND SUPPLIES THOMASTON GAS OIL COMPANY COMPLIMENTARY THOMASTON, CONN. Authorized Distributors of Sinclair Products A. M. FLINT, Gen. Mgr. A. L. DAILEY, Supt. —70— STOP AT SMILE INN Thomaston-Torrington Road S. L. MADEUX, Pr:p. Hot Dogs Sandwiches Hot and Cold Drinks P. D’ANDREA Ladies’ and Gents’ Tailoring Cleaning - Dyeing Pressing EAST MAIN STREET OPERA HOUSE L. B. MURPHY, Lessee Motion Pictures Mondays, Wednesdays and Saturdays THOMASTON, CONNECTICUT “All that’s Best in Printing” COMPLIMENTS OF COMPLIMENTS OF AMHERST COLBY ALUMNI ALUMNAE —71— THOMASTON CANDY KITCHEN JAMES GIATAS, Prop FRUITS, FINE CANDIES AND ICE CREAM EAST MAIN STREET Phone 365 THOMASTON, CONN PARK STREET HOTEL THOMASTON CONNECTICUT C. LEROY BROWN, Mgr. +-------------+ J. J. CONWAY, Clothier “Where Qualities Tell and Prices Sell” MAIN STREET - THOMASTON, CONN. “A store fully abreast of the times” —72— Earn a College Degree in Business IN TWO YEARS Two-year courses prepare for business management, accounting practice, executive-secretarial work, or commercial teaching. Free Placement Service. Over 1000 calls a year. Put your high school years to largest use by specialized training at Bryant-Stratton College. Enrollments are being taken for 66th year September 4. Write or call for catalogue. PROVIDENCE, RHODE ISLAND State-Authorized to confer Degrees: B.B.A.—B.Accts.—B.S.S.—B.C.S. BRYANT-STRATTON COLLEGE OF BUSINESS ADMINISTRATION COMPLIMENTARY CONGRATULATIONS to the CLASS OF 1928 W. T. GRANT CO. COMPLIMENTS OF COLT COMPANY THOMASTON, CONN. —73— Chrysler Motor Cars C. C. TYLER Sales and Service REAR BRADSTREET’S BLOCK ARCHIE, THE TAILOR “Equal to the Best—Better than the Rest” EAST MAIN STRF.ET TELEPHONE 183 COMPLIMENTS OF MAZZIOTTE STUDIO SCHOOL PHOTOGRAPHER 50 BANK STREET WATERBURY, CONNECTICUT TELEPHONE 2196 —74— - 'V v ■ , .4 ?V.--Efc.? iKS NSy V'i -,4-Sdr . « -)► . v • Kv� .V. ,'v ;V y .✓ %V' ■ •£ Af