Waltham High School - Mirror Yearbook (Waltham, MA)

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P qc Fo111'1'rv11 S M.x,.s.,.v.X..s-.v.s..X,.v,V.v.v.v.-..s..s..s.. CLASS PRQPHECX endeavoring to make an exit, I pack up against the building to wait for the Frau. While I'm standing there a couple of maidens draw up aside of me and begin beefing about all things that women are interested in. and that's everything. Out of the corner of my eye I looks them over and I know for a fact that I've seen their pictures in the paper, with ar- ticles written about how they tom- ahawked plate-glass windows and spilled mellow eggs at school-board and city executives a.ll because they wasn't allowed to vote. They were talking some, were the suffs, Mildred Moore and Frances Bassett. From all the ideas, suggestions and informa- tion they bombarded one another with, I pieces facts together and learns that Marguerite Holmes was travelling about the Sahara Desert, peddling fur coats to the Arabs. She was always a cool one, anyhow. I edges nearer this council-of-war as familiar names began to be gargled back and forth and I hears that Is- abel Russell and Ethel Whitmore have been termed promising recruits, being now life members of the Na- tional School Teachers' Association. This conversation was getting mighty interesting and I was just hearing that Florence Dudley had by a large majority been elected to dust off the books in the Public Library, and if a draughtsman was needed she was on hand to regulate the opening of the windows. I was absorbing these facts as a dry sponge sops up water when I feels a touch on my arm. Wheeling about I comes face to face with Lawnie and after the glad-hand becomes stationary and all other po- lite questions were over, he says, with much embarrassment, You're married, ain't you? I told him I was. Can you tell me how much it costs to live when you got a wife? he sputters. Why, says I, it costs almost noth- ing, everything is so reasonable these days. I'm glad to hear you say so, he says. Sheila's father and mother were afraid that maybe I wasn't get- ting enough to support her. 'You know I'm taking care of the com- mon now. Yes, so I see by the paper, says I. But who's Sheila? VVhy, she's the sweetest girl in the world, answers Lawnie. He probably would have proceeded with her family history but I sees the Missus come out of the theatre and by her looks I know that it's best to be with her unless I wish to lose what few hairs I am still coax- ing along on my head. I hurries at- ter the Missus who is hoofing it towards Moody street. Gladys was sure sore when I catches up to her. We hadn't stopped here more than a minute before I hears the put, putt of a motor-bike and around the corner swings the piece of ma- chinery with Fannie Phipps at the handles. She had Lillian Hickey sitting in the baby-carriage attach- ment. As I looks at the pair I re- members that Fannie was the only one of her set that owned a solid, 14 karat potato necklace and as for Lill, she was sitting up as straight as a poker looking ahead with a far- away look about her pathetic blue eyes. The Waverley seamstress had become affected in this manner early in her girlhood. It happened over night and she never was the same after Richie went away. No sooner had the motor-cycle vanished than the Police Auto comes banging up ' f'1if'1i2qAf ,S,'RJNK,f'1Rf Qf'R,xQbf1if if if'31vRPTxJTx2AN '..1..I..I..fW.fT.'..l'T.f'E.l..'..fI.f'T.'--fT.l'T.f'?.fT

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Qb'Qk'QQ'xL','6.L'QL'iL'QL'y,:-' O xx xf xx xx CLASS PROPHECY Page Tfzirft t ll est money. When Alice got a chance to chew the fat, I hears her tell how Brooks Marsh is giving banjo les- sons at all the leading institutions such as the Perkins and Keeley In- stitutes. The rest of her jabber was lost in the thunder as Goat-Beard had started up his orchestra again. Up goes the sheet again and I sees by the card that there is to be some garnd opera selections rendered by La Bou and Blanchard, ably assist- ed by a chorus of 40 voices. The stage is set with a bungalow on one side and with many trees everywhere else on the stage. Out of the bungalow struts Florence, fol- lowed by Ralphio and he begins sing- ing what a fine morning it is, in Wop, and she tells him he'd better go ily his kite. That ends the first song. Then Ralphio swaggers to the edge of the stage and makes a commence- ment. But he must have slept bad last night, 'cause he just grunts now and then, while the orchestra can't seem to locate what key he's grunt- ing in and they don't get along at all until Ralphio bows and sprints for the wings. Now comes the grand final. It seems in the song th.at Ralphio has to go away 'cause there's a washout this side of Fresh Pond while Flor- ence pleads ior him to hesitate and stay at home with her but he can't see staying with Flo at all. Then, the chorus takes up the maiden's plea but all to no purpose. Gladys thought the singing was just beautiful. Karleen then tells us that the songs were from Madame Buttermilk or some such opera. I was getting kind of restless as the curtain comes down again so 1 begs the rest of the party to excuse me. Permission to leave being grant- ed with great haste on the part oi the Missus. No sooner have I made my way to the sidewalk than along comes Red Mott with a chorus girl from the show-house up the street, hanging on to each of his two arms. I knew both of the girls as Esther Perry and Frances Wiley when I was in school but as names change so readily I have quite disremembered the nome-de-plumes they were now' carrying. I remembered Red as be- ing one of those wicked men, who the song-writer mentions as being one broke her heart to pass the away. But he always wanted who time each and every branch of the femi- nine specie to have an equal chance to talk and walk with himg the huge and shadowy holder of the name, a la Mottef' Tossing the remains of Mecca into the gutter, Itakes a final look up and down the street. As luck would have it, the lights of the street reflected on the door of the little church across the street and I stops for a second as the words of a placard tacked on the door attracts my atten- tion. I studies the sign a moment and this is what I reads: On Tues- day evening there will be the annual meeting of the W'omen's Guild in the basement. The Reverend Charles Moore will preside at this meeting. There will be a collection and now that the winter months are passed will persons please refrain from dropping cough-drops in the contribution box? I have to read this over a second time before I ful- ly understand the situation. Then I see that I have another or my wide- ly scattered classmen accounted for. Turning around I start to beat it back into the auditorium but when I see that most of its population is .,x.,x...x...N...x.,.N...x...N......X..N.,.a.,N.,x..,-.a-f-X.,x..,x.,.,.,,.,N...s.,K.,x..x....,N.,.N...N..N..,.,K.,x.,x.,,

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LJ 'U 'L 1,' 1- 'Lf 'Lf 'Ugg' 'Q 'Q 'LJ 'L' 'L.-'u':. 1.J 55.5.-fE:f,:Ef,x-:s.,f:fS:s. e.fxfif'Q.4Nqx4s.,.fs..fx-f,O CLASS PROPHECY , 'L' 'L' 'L' ' 'L' 'L' 'Q ':. 1. 1,- '1,- 'L. L, 1,1'L L' 'L- 'Q , E.'E,.'P..'5'A'N,4E,,fE. b..fE.4E.'EfP,.'EfEfE,4S.,fliE,.f Pclgjt' Fiftt c ll the street. It seemed to me that Waltham was some livelier than when I had last seen it. As the patrol-bus whizzed past me I makes out Luke Conant's iigure grasping 'the wheel for dear life. He had the car wide open as there were a few Sat- urday night ale-hounds to be collect- ed at the Bleachery. As a boy the patrol had always had a distinct fascination for Luke and only too well do some of the old set- tlers remember Luke's memorable ride, but that was when the auto was new and Steve was on the driv- seat. Little did any one dream that Luke would succeed Steve. Suddenly it dawns on me that the wife was heading for the station. I sneaks a glance at my Waterbury and finds that it is 10.32. The train for Sayville was due to pull out at 10.45 so Ipwould have a half an hour to wait before our train starts westward. I makes for the middle of the street and with a rolling gate I starts after my disappearing Gladys. I gets along ine for about twenty yards, then from some quarter in the rear comes the shrill of a motor-horn that makes both the hairs on my head stand up and tremble. I gives one glance around then makes for the gutter. I gains my desired location and glances around just in time to see Le- Claire twisting the wheel most off of his complex as he tries to pass an electric car. I gets a glimpse of Madame Buncher, the modiste, who owns the shop this side of Domonie Guzzi'sg sitting in the tonneau with her pomeranian. The auto went by with dust a iiying. My attention is soon attracted again by the electrif car which stops to let on some baby forms. I hears a familiar voice bel- lowing at the scrambling humanity 7 GFS -At-.N-t-NK-fl-d.,g....,...,s,.l.., .. that was endeavoring to clamor aboard. Looking toward the rear-end of the car I makes out Cole's shapely carcas, in his conductor's uniform. Well, thinks I, the old Middle- sex 8: Boston has claimed him at last. You see Rod was always sort of attracted toward the back end ot' Newton cars and heiwas the original Columbus when he used to play the National Pastime down beside the dump, as it was he who found out where first-base was by tripping over it. One slight and light haired woman with a week's provisions piled all over her arms was making futile attempts to clamber aboard the car. Even Cole's growling and yelling didn't seem to get the woman out ot her difliculty. Evelyn Phillips at last gave up and the noble Rod comes down off the rear and heaves her aboard. When she gets straightened out I see that in her right mitt she's holding onto a sandwich, from which huge portions disappear from time to time. Meanwhile Rod had given the motorman the high-sign and now he's turning toward the sidewalk to gaze at any chance spectators, who saw his noble assistance. Then, with his wolflsh smile playing tunes about his ears and looking about as if he was saying I'm worth more dough, his car starts with a jerky and all ex- pression on his map is lost as the swaying electric shoots down the hill toward Chestnut street. On I goes, dashing down the street towards the station. I just makes out the Frau, as she enters the depot's spacious waiting-room. Put- ting on more speed I just reach the baggage room when I hear the clang- ing of Iire autos. I looks towards the thoroughfare and sees three or four