Waltham High School - Mirror Yearbook (Waltham, MA)

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THE MIRROR 27 Ralph Carter, his helper, followed with a monkey wrench in his grasp, and Walter Jackson with a huge tool kit slung over his shoulder in role of assistant helper came trudg- ing bravely in last. The lights were soon fixed, that is, after Walter had been sent once to the shop for a Hashlight and again for a fuse. When these three proficient elec- tricians had left, I looked at my watch. By George, I said. Hlsnit it about time for the opera? You know lVIarian Coflin is a second Galli Curci at the Boston Opera House, ,and if we concentrate on her, we can horn in on the whole caboodle gratisf' The curtain had just risen when we arrived there mentally, and there were Marion Coffin and Bernard Marsh in the midst of a quarrel, ab- solutely oblivious of the audience. The curtain went down hurriedly, and Clifford Johnson, the manager, came out and very profusely begged that the unseemly conduct be excused. He said that Bernard, who had the leading part, had forgotten to shave and that Marion had simply refused to play opposite to him until he did. In the ensuingintermission,Igazed about the building. In a box I saw Frances Cook carefully instructing her husband, Walter Byron, not to go to sleep during the performance, using for her purpose some loving taps and a hat pin. At last the curtain rose, and Ber- nard stepped forth with a clean chin and several lip-shaped red marks on his cheeks. He must have decided at the last moment that the first act needed rehearsing. Bernard and Marian and the remainder of the company shrieked and moaned at each other for hours, but Cliff and I enjoyed the whole proceeding im- mensely. The mental association had no vitaphone attachment. Of course, we didn't spend all our time gazing at the actors. We watched the ushers, Joseph Carey and Pierce Burgess, clap strenuously but with no assistance whatsoever from the audience. We saw Mr. and Mrs. Walter Ritcey giggling away at something. I found it was more serious than I had expected, how- ever. The former lNIarguerite Neilly was doing her best to repair her hus- band's broken suspenders. William Milesky sat with Mary Baniszewski in a front row seat with a triumph- ant look, in fact, the only pleased look in the entire audience besides Mary's. Would you think Willy could write a whole opera by himself, and that Mary could supply the words? This opera was the story of Hansel and Gretel and had a very unnatural sort of originality. For instance, the witch had a flowing beard. This part was played by Leroy Phipps. The father, a terrify- ing personage, was Clyde Granger. Mary had substituted for a swan a cow, and when Robert King was made up as a cow, a real cow couldnat look more like one. Water was used on the stage, even if it did spill over and wet the orchestra, con- sisting of Helen Maurer at the piano, John Sulmonetti at the sax- ophone, Eleanor Taylor at her new- ly acquired bass horn, Katherine Scott tooting an ocarina, commonly called sweet-potato, and Hazel Ped- ersen at a jazz whistle. I thought the climax, where the cow, carrying Hansel and Gretel on his back across an artificial stream, slipped and de- posited Hansel and Gretel quite un- gracefully in the water, very affect- ing. Possibly this was not the cli- max, but it certainly was the turning point :-The audience got up and left.

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I 26 THE MIRROR tion of the class of '29 transported to Turkey. Frank was busily taking count of stock in his harem. He had a list and was calling their names one by one. As they stood up to answer the roll, I recognized Ger- trude MacDonald and that auburn hair of hers, Oh, boylg Louise Row- ell, I bet she tells Frank What's what, Jeannette Barrow, there's nothing the matter with Frank's eyes, Olive Buttrick, Wait until Avery Steele gets out of the cooler. How he must repent using the mail for fraudulent purposes, Helen Crosby, that personified literary gem, Estella Gray, the boss, but not the favorite, and Mary Corrigan, whose scholarly intellect would make a guarantee that the Harem refrained from too much frivolityg last of all Mary Young, to keep the family reconciled. When our thoughts had ceased to harmonize on this subject, I mur- mured something about- Every dog has his day, Sinners always get their pay. Somehow this reminded Cliff of Alice Cosgrove so much that he made me concentrate with him on Alice, to see what difference ten years had made on her. Alice was sitting in a hearse while Roderick Gillis, her long-suffering husband, and William Pedersen, his partner, were busy fill- ing the vehicle with long boxes. Upon seeing the sign on the side of the hearse, 'cGillis and Pedersen, Undertakers, Chicago , I understood what Alice had meant when she told me that her husband was pros- pering in the wholesale business. I think he has hopes of outliving his wife and enjoying the rest of his life, but I'm not sure. ' A suggestion was proffered that we find whether ten years had sub- tracted anything from Ellen Childs. You remember what a prominent fig- ure Ellen was-no, I didn't say had. Upon getting into Cahoots again a scene closely resembling Old Home Week came before us. It was a group of young women, all making crazy motions. The central figure of this group turned out to be Rosa- mond Edgar, who looked exception- ally pleased. Clasping their hands and swaying about her were Gertrude Bliss, Vir- ginia Ellis, Madeline Mabie, and Marion Maclntyre. Ellen Childs was behind these persons with an air of proprietorship about her and a critical eye for the proceedings. After considering the amount of hats and other unspeakables hanging around the shop and the layout on Rosie, I decided that this was Ellen's Hab- erdasheryn, of which I had heard. Rosie must have been the foreign buyer back from a trip with some more vicious styles for the gullible feminine publicg and Gerty, Virgin- ia, Madeline, and Marion must have been the clerks to sell the same pub- lic the same styles that they seem so much taken up with all the time. Good Heavens, declared Cliff, can,t we run into anything more ex- citing to look at than a bunch of nit- wits ogling at a mess of clothes? Let's locate Phyllis Wilson. She may be doing something interesting. This seemed agreeable to me. Can you imagine our astonishment when, upon concentrating, we found that Phyllis was scrubbing the floor in'a bank? I wondered what reverses in life had forced Phyllis to such work. The write-up she got in the society page of the paper certainly changed my feeling of pity for her. What notoriety she did get! A society lady scrubbing Hoors. The lights went out for some un- known reason and left us in the dark. Wife Sl1'T1'T101'1Cd an electrician. After the wait of an hour, Herbert Dicks entered with a hammer in his hand.

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28 THE MIRROR Our minds returned to Arthur's back room again. There was one more person about whom I wanted to obtain knowledge that night. That was John Savage-I knew he had started out to find an honest woman and that he had hunted long and ear- nestly with no results. Cliff inform- ed me that he had gone to sea. I doubt very much whether he will find his woman there. I was sorry for Jack: He should have hunted for hens' teeth. . Late the next afternoon I was on my way to Cliff's shop, where we were to meet. I was suddenly jerked into the air and held there, swinging about above the city. I discovered that a careless dirigible owner had left an anchor hanging overboard with which my trousers were caught. This owner immediately looked from a cabin window to find what was weighing down the ship. It was Bub Storer with a tolerably hen- peeked appearance. He informed me that he and his wife, you remember our old friend, Betty Trask, were just starting on their tenth honey- moon. She had always insisted on one a year. Poor Bub',. When the good old Charles River was under me, I cut loose. Upon emerging from the watery depths, I was immediately pulled into a police boat and asked for what reason I was polluting the water. The oHicer was Edward Corrigan. He had to pump me Qliterallyj before I could say-well, never mind what I said, I know I expressed myself perfectly. I had a somewhat different recep- tion upon being put ashore. A group of people surrounded me and shoved and fought to talk to me first. Betty Hood was the first to attract my at- tention. Do you know, Betty was one of these girls that solicit movie actors. She wanted me. She said that I would surely make the audi- ence hysterical with laughter as long as I acted natural. Being serious minded, I refused this offer. Paul Webber, my insurance broker, el- bowed his way to me to get the facts of the case, but Ruth Stroum, sen- sation reporter for the B oston Trans- cript, shoved past him to dislodge a little information of her own from me, but, as I did not desire to become a hero, she got but few results. Dr. Irad -Hardy stalked up to me and gave me a thorough osteopathic pum- meling before he pronounced me all right. Margaret Doe, dressed in a nurse's outfit, was standing near, and I had her go over me again to find out what the doctor had done. I was certainly sore in general when they both got through with me. Na- than Smith, my tailor, shook my hand and sho-wed me how wonderful- ly my suit had stood the water test and wanted to hire me to do the stunt every day to advertise his business. This offer I gracefully refused and started to walk toward the street. I was supported on both sides and felt heroic and important, until I turned to gaze at my benefactors. Then my feelings completely chang- ed, for, holding my shoulders, one on each side, were Police Officers Harold Stanley and Maurice Shee- han. It seems that I was being ar- rested for disturbing the peace, lit- tering up a public parkway, pollut- ing the Charles River, et ceteraf I slipped each a five spot and told them to take me to the mayor. As I was awaiting my appointment, Isaac Mankowich came out of the mayor's office, radiating joy. He grabbed my hand and said, At last I've got it. Got what ? Got permission to build my port- able garage factory in the gym field, of course.