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Page 25 text:
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U .U .U .U .., .U .U .U .U .U .U .U .U .U .U .U-.U .U E..'P..'S.4E..'?,.'S..'EfEfXfE..'E,fE-.fE.'ifE.4L'. 245.1 .U .U .U .U .U .U .U 151 sea: x:e-s::-s::-rs::-s::-s::- ii.fSJfSi.fv.'.'i:'.'SL2Ld.'N514'S.'Si.fSJ:S,'.'s.'E-f. CLASS PROPHECY Page Thirteen district. A huge sign on one of the theatres, caught our eye. It an- nounced that the management had at great cost secured the engagement- theatrical not matrimonial-of Miss Adele Eichler and Mr. Karl Swett in a four act drama of love and adven- ture, entitled Put Some Pep lnto lt. While standing and gazing with awe at this announcement, we noticed a sea-captain with a Herculean build standing before us. It turned out to be Captain Ed. Mosher of the Merchant Marine, in charge of a big freighter plying between Boston and Savannah. According to him, the Merchant Mar- ine had got wireless beaten a mile. We began to feel the pangs of hun- ger and l suggested that we drop into a restaurant for a bite to eat, but Jack decided We had better go home as we could eat for nothing there. On the way to the subway, we passed the photograph studio of Mme. Minerva Olney. In the subway, we discovered that women employees were in vogue and a poor, ordinary man didn't have a chance. The employee who bellowed forth the destinations of the trains turned out to be Gladys Davis. Our motor-woman was Maggie Hutton! l expected ,never to hit Waltham, but I guess she did not know I was on, for nothing happened. On the train, we fell in with Ruth Arneson. We learned that she was married but she refused to tell who the unlucky man was. It was dead easy to tell, however, for the little boy with her was red-headed. At Newton, a Woman with a huge brood of children, I should say, about 15, in round numbers, joined us. She sat at the other end of the car, but l recognized the careworn face of poor old Mother Tully. It was about noon, when we reached Central Square. I stopped on the cor' .,., .., .., .A ... -.. -. -. .N .N ner to look things over a bit, while Jack started on the double quick for Robbins street. Before parting, however, we agreed to meet at Nut- ting's the following evening. The square looked the same as ever. In the Lawrence Building, I saw that Edith Metcalf, the noted woman law- yer, had her shingle out. As in the olden days, the traffic cops were still balling up traflic. While I was watching this one ring circus, a short fellow, dressed entirely in black, brushed past me. He looked familiar and l grabbed him. , Hello Osy! I shouted. Why all the crepe? Can't stop now, I'm in a hurry, and handing me a card, he hurried off. Here is the way his card' read:- Wendell Osborn. Dealer In Second Hand Art Books. The traiiic cop was now reprimand- ing a woman chauffeur for speeding through the square. She gave her name as Miss Dorothy Muzzy, I had known she would end up like this, by the reckless way in which she used to speed to school. The little high school children were now being dismissed. They get small- er every year. I decided to go over and take a look at the old prison. l walked up Main street, past the City Hall and-I could scarcely believe my eyes-the old shack had a new coat of paint. I looked inside to see if the paint extended within or whether the exter- ior was simply camouiiaged. Over the door of the old City Managers of- fice, I noticed the sign, City Man- ageressf' I was inquisitive and peeked in. Seated in a chair with her feet upon the desk was our City Man- ageress, Mrs. Gwendolyn Fraim, dic- tating to a short-hand artist, who re- minded me greatly of Ruth MacKenzie. Off in a corner, I could see Doris . -N -N -. --X 6 ji Qi if ,if if if di di dl dl ji ji ji di di if 95 di dl ji di .if ji di ji di di di is dl jf di if di if Qi Qi ,ii di df df if ji di di if di di ji Qi di if ji di di Qi ,ii if if ji 95 if if gi! C5
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Page 24 text:
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... .N .. .., ,. ., ,. ... A .N G Q 'a.'fs.'fs.'e.fe.'a.f-v.'fs+:.'a. 1-1 Q,'Qs9'i','gv:'Q9L,U Lb 'QQ-.U ,no .nu nw nv -,LJ -,Lf -.U LJ g, Page Twelve CLASS PROPHECY Jack seized the book and we ran just in time to make the airplane. Several hours later when we were fairly out to sea, I took a look at my purchase. It was The Perils of the Ambulance Service by Corp, Charles McGahan, author of My Life in the Coast Artillery and Ten Words a Minute. The illustrations were by the famous artist twins, Howard and Harold Harvey. There was a big splash far below and the best seller of the war had gone to the fishes. That afternoon we were sitting on the promenade deck gazing at the clouds around us, when whom should we see walking down the deck but Bet- ty Wiley. She came over and we be- gan to talk over old times. Are you travelling for your health? I asked her. No, I'm a salesiady for a dry goods firm, was the answer. Any particular line of dry goods? I ventured. Oh, yes. Middy blouses, she re- plied. That reminded me of something and Iasked what her old rival, Isabel Dauncey, was doing. She's selling shirtwaists for the same Erin, we were informed. Then she started off on a long ti- rade on the advantages of middy blouses over shirtwaists, especially for graduations, but Jack came to my rescue by shouting, Man overboard! and while Betty wished to see the ex- citement we escaped. We entered the dining room, and as I expected, we found a few more of our friends in the guise of waitresses and pot wallopers. There must be some sort of fascination about it, for they all had fallen. This time I saw Caroline Erickson and Margaret Hib- bard, and far out in the kitchen, I could discern Vesta Winn scrubbing dishes. At the close of the meal, seeing no sign of Betty, we sallied forth upon the deck, once more. We found that we were not flying at a very high al- titude. In a little while, we passed over a lighthouse. I caught sight of an up- turned face which I am pretty sure be- longed to Frances Ames. Wonder who she married that brought her way out there? One odd thing about it, she couldn't invite the Sewing Circle in very often. The morning of the next day found us at the Air Line depot in Boston. The depot was situated on the site of the old Boston Common and so when we descended, we were on Tremont street. From now on we commenced to see our old friends frequently. In the de- pot, I caught sight of two, Lena Mor- ris and Bertha Munroe, in a news- stand. Also we passed the oflice of Lorraine Stone, public stenographer. Before taking the subway, we wan- dered around the town a bit. A little later, as we were walking down Washington street, we ran into Cy Perkins. He didn't have much to say but I noticed his derby. On one side of it, there was a green smudge, where it looked as if the Egure 52 had been inscribed in green chalk and then rubbed out. If that was the case, it was about time he bought a new hat. Farther down the line we encoun: tered Bertha Concannon. The poor girl had wasted away to a shadow of her former self. I inquired as to how she had accomplished this transfor- mation and she told methat she was attending the Physical Culture Studio of Miss Beatrice Hoelscher, the fa- mous woman gymnast. By this time, we were in the theater m,.......,....a..,. ,,................,...............,. ...ag fe .4s.'ws .rem .4s.'fs.'a. C-Ve .fe .fa .fin .4-:ra .fare .An .+ve .ara .fa .A-v.fws refs fs
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Page 26 text:
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Lv' 'QU 'M ku 'Q,'L+'L-yQ,'.:,-,-.v,x.,v 'VU 'Q,'Q,xo,-.U -.C -Q., -----'-----s-s---.-.s-.s..s..s..s..s..X..s.... ...v.........s..,....,......,..,.,,.,,s,,s,,.,,,,sf Page Fourteen CLASS PROPHECY Moore and Flora Ware, pounding away at typewriters. Gwen used to run the High School and here she was running the city. l went out, crossed the street, and started up Church street. At the Animal Aid Shelter, the an- nual rummage sale was on full blast. 1 noticed only a few of the old faces, but there was one new one, Miss Dor- othy Smith, behind the counters. From that I deducted that she was a teacher at the High School. On the corner of School and Church streets, I passed a short, fat youth, whose face reminded me of an old friend's. I asked the boy what his name was and he replied Jonas Sheer. Say is your father's name Nathan? I demanded. Yes, sir. He owns the big tailor shop over here on Lexington street. I looked at the boy's books to see what he was studying. Among them I espied my old favorite, a Latin gram- mar. This one was bulky and must have been written by a very learned man. I was curious and opened the book to see. The author was Chester J. Fraim, A. B., Professor of Latin at Cornell University. Don't you believe what that book tells you sonny! I know the man who wrote it. How do you like High School, my boy? All right, he replied, except the teachers. My room teacher, Miss Agatha Cooke, isn't so bad, but We got a new spelling teacher the other day. He is terrible. His name is Powers. You should have heard him the other day trying to spell prophet ?- That was enough for me and I head- ed back for Central Square. The City Edition of the Tribune was just out, so I purchased a copy. While perusing the sporting page, I discov- ered that Sunday baseball in Boston between two major league teams, was down to receive its iirst tryout the tol- lowing Sunday. The page also con- tained a write-up of Big-Six Barnes, the wizard of baseball, the famous twirler of the Boston Red Sox, by Les- lie C. Browning, the sporting editor. Barnes was down to pitch at the Sun- day Baseball opening. ln another part of the paper, I saw a letter of protest against the Sunday baseball by a prominent society wom- an ot Waltham, Miss Leila Warren. She stated that she was also in iiavor of the abolition ot auto-riding and can- oeing on the Sabbath, but that she would let these rest, if but that ac- cursed baseball be stopped. Below this, there was an account of the election of the previous day. ln the list of the candidates for the school committee, I perceived that A1- bert Bent had linished seventh-out of a field of tive. While reading, I had been strolling along Moody street and by this time, l was almost to Hall's Corner. There the Salvation Army was holding its usual festivities. Among them, I rec- ognized Sergeant Rowell. I knew he would rise high in the military protes- sion, because he showed great promise in that line in school. Marion Parker and Harold Wilson were among the sinners. Farther up the line, F. W. Wool- worth Co., was doing business in the same old place, but not in the same old way. They said business was nev- er the same after Bud Behrman be- came manager. I saw seve-ral old friends behind the counters, Ruby V-an Demark on the cookie counter and Gertrude Colloton maltreating a long- suffering piano. Then I passed Flora Stearns' millin- ery shop and at Lewis' old stand, Rosamond Jacobs was doing a flourish- ing candy business. . ..N..N-.N-.NUR-.xvxvxusvsvxvx-gvxvsvmvx -Nvx-L-X-Nvxvxs-gvxvxvsvsvsvxvxvxvsvx Cl Q fu Q P6.fv-..'Nf..'a.+'-vm.fmfwu.fi-f-..fw..4s.fNn.fw-..'w1.fs.49n's.'f9.
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