Waltham High School - Mirror Yearbook (Waltham, MA)

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IRENE STEBNER Chas: Secretary 1927

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may - Tnliz MIRROR g nomical measure, because George had become a piano tuner when Thelma herself wrecked pianos at an average of one a we-ek, teaching harmless kids how to murder the Spring Song and the Butterflies' Serenade, etc. Joe De Coste and Betty Moore had been divorced Cwhich was stale news to me--I had printed a private story of its causes and Betty had pretty nearly made it impossible for me to be at the reunion at all lj, and last., but not least, Steph'ie Hanscom had married Claire Dnnbrack. This last was an interesting bit of gossip, because I had always cut Stephie out as a bachelor. Hhm-yes? Maybe! I asked Charley where Hadron Greenblot was and what he was doing now, I had noticed Homer hadn't mentioned him. Well, I learned that Hudie and his dear wifey, I da Rosenberg, were making their annual trip around the world. The last that had been heard of the pair was that they were stopping in Ireland for a. few months in order that Hudie might see the Blarney Stone, in which he was always reputed to be a strict believer. The show on the stage had been going merrily on all this time and I had caught indistinct glimpses of Nina Shnrnway and Pea-rl Jacob tripping the light fantastic toe across it. But now there was a little lull before a tall, broad-shouldered man stepped out onto the center of the stage, accompanied by a strangely familiar figure, and they began to recite the usual bunk about 'IOh-father-come-home, mother-is-passing- away-leave-the-awful-saloon--and-come-with little-May I' ' In this queerly matched pair, I met another husband and wife, Arthur Johnson and Rornaine Shoenberger. They had wanted to help out, Charley told me, and since this was the only opening, they just jumped at the chance. They had wanted to amuse us. They certainly did when they got to the part where the little daughter prevails upon the rough fatherls heart to come home from the saloon and he attempts to toss his infant daughter lightly on his back. Now, Romaine, was never cut out for an infant daughter, so this part of their act was sort of a f1op.i But we were a good-natured crowd and they managed to get away with it. In between the flop and the recovery, I took another glance at the table, where the class members were gorging themselves and noticed a tall- regal-looking blond woman, three-quarters buried in a baked potato. After she had 'finished and removed its traces from her face, I was able to recognize Professor Rosarnond Whitcoonb. She had not only passed her college examination to get into Radcliffe, but had obtained a position there as an English literature instructor, and now it was a question whether she would ever manage to get out! Beside her sat two giggling girls, Helen Gnstaoson and Dorothea Ford, who were simpering and pointing at a young man across the table in whom I saw nothingwrong till suddenly it dawned on me that he not only had his shoes olf, but also had his arms bare to the elbows and wa.s thoroughly enjoying himself

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as THE MIRAROR q g with a huge T-bone from one of the sirloin steaks. This eccentric creature was Malcolm Graf, whose wife, Nathalie Mosher, forced him to always remove his shoes before entering his home in accordance with her Dutch ancestry 's custom. Jenny Profita, who kept a fine little fruit and vegetable, store on Moody Street, with her husband, Tony Siano, sat next to Malcolm. After them came Stella Morreale, Marjorie Meader, Olive MacNainara and Eiza-beth Leishnian, in rapid succession, who were having a wonderful time talking with their mouths full about everybody in the room. I do hope they were saying something nasty about me! Leslie Mitchell and her hubbie, Ja-nies Howie, made up the next couple, and they were exceptionally quiet till I noticed that they were busy eating and were probably stocking forthe Sabbath day to follow. Eating so fast, they couldn't talk! A strange sight indeed. About this time I was becoming so surfeited that I began to feel dizzy and sleepy, but fought it off to watch a pretty little song and dance number now being enacted on the stage. In ,it were Dorothy Keith, Catherine Devlin and Louise Doncette. It was called the Dance of the Nations, England, Ireland and France. Frances Atwoocl, formerly ca.lled '4Funny, next appeared in a pathetic little skit, called When You and I Were Young, Maggie ll' Winton Dangleinayer took the part of Maggie's husband, but his technique was stilted because Margaret Bent, who was supposed to close the act with a lovely shower of roses, kept getting the wrong cue and came out at least live times to pelt in- offensive Ding with the flowers when she- was least expected. Eleanor Dow appeared after the rosy rioters with her famous quartet of mu- sicians. She herself led with the piano, Leo Coughlan played a J ew 's harp, Helen Cutter, a harmonica, and Phyllis Closby, a ukulele. They were accompanied by Doris Charnley, Peggy Cox and Millie Caswell, who rendered a familiar old selection, Good N ight, Ladies, as a grand finale. Immediately after their exit I began to have a distinct longing for my little trundle bed. But when Charley got up and had finally borrowed his countrymen 's ears and was deep in his speech at last, I lost all grip on my senses and was soon oblivious to everything and every- body around me. The following day when I came to at last, I was told that I had been removed, bodily, from the hall as a public nuisance, and they say I called out in my sleep as I. was being carried out to my waiting auto for disturbing Charley and his speech, with my vociferous sleeping, Long Live the Class of '27--theBest Class Ever! -just like that, with capitals and all ll 1'-H -nag:-' ' - 1---p---1-.