Warren High School - Hilltop Yearbook (Warren, MA)

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12 THE H ILLTOP pleasure to live there. The third day after we moved there stands out distinctly in my memory, for it was a very eventful one for me. The family next door, the Murphys, were one of the friendliest families in town. The members of the family consisted of Mrs. Murphy, a patient, gentle sort of woman, Mr. Murphy,'a man I never knew very well, for his business seemed to take up most of his time 3 Charles, an upright third-grader, and Bernard. Bernard was my first heart-throb, although it was not love at first sight. That memorable third day I was out in my back yard, 'and when I looked over my shoulder, I caught him staring wistfully at my sand pile. He was a red-headed, freckled, snub-nosed young- ster, with intense blue eyes, and as he stared at my sand pile and then back at me, he presented a pathetic, appealing picture. I stared right back at him, and soon he became bold enough to venture forth and smile shame-facedly. 'Tm Ber- nard, he said. I'm Irene, I ventured. There was an awkward silence, with both of us silently appraising each other. The silence was broken by a loud snicker from Bernard. My cat, a homely, crippled creature, but of whom I was extremely fond, had limped out, and to have anyone laugh at Limpy was a deliberate insult. With the im- petuousness of youth, I sprang up, and before Bernard knew what was happen- ing, my hand collided with his cheek in a resounding slap. Then I ran into the house, and left Bernard there, bewildered. Our romance had begun. I soon forgot my grudge, though, and Bernard and I became friends. In fact, our romance gradually flourished, and we became sweethearts. We were always to- gether. My recollections of ithose days are rather hazy, but a few adventures we shared stand out clearly. Most likely you cannot imagine what devotion there exist- ed between us. Through the streets we always walked, hand in hand-a rather amusing sight we must have been-a short, chubby girl of four and a sturdy lad of five. We had many interests in common. One was our love of singing, and another our love of school. We were too young to be allowed to go to school, but on visiting day we were the first ones there. We used to sing as we strolled through the streets foff pitch, most of the time, and never in harmony. .l There was one d '-LI shall never for- get. Bernard and I were taking our morn- ing stroll as usual. The day had a gloomy, threatening look, and our mothers had warned us to come back immediately. That day, however, there was to be a spe- cial singing class at the school, and we were headed there. The wind was coming up, and there were black clouds in the sky, but this did not disturb us. The singing finally began, accompanied by the patter of raindrops. Soon we were completely drenched, for the raindrops had changed to a real thunder storm, with lightning and thunder terrifying us. We started to run home, but the storm was too much for us. We finally stopped in a deserted doorway, and remained there for two hours, while our frantic parents searched all over for us. We finally got home, how- ever, and after a week's illness, we were the same again. Our escapades were many-from col- lecting flowers from neighbors and then selling them to looking for treasure in our back yards. I remember the severe chas- tising we both got on these occasions, especially when we made a deep hole in the yard while looking for the treasure. Finally our romance ended, when my family moved to another town. We had lived there a year, but during that time Bernard and I had pledged to be lifelong friends and sweethearts. The day I went away was a sorrowful one. As a token of remembrance he gave me a little fancy wooden box. I know we both felt like cry- ing, but we bravely kept back the tears. I cried myself to sleep that night, though. I have kept that little Wooden box through all these years, and it has been one of my dearest treasures. As I look at it, I smile, amused, at that red-headed, freckled, snub-nosed lad, and that short, chubby girl. I have not seen Bernard since that lazy day. Sometimes I wonder about him-wonder if he too remembers me and those romantic days. I'd like to see him, and talk over old times with him. I imagine it would be fun talking about that first romance together. Irene Baldyga '38

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t ,. THE HILLTOP 11 ,ye ' , New England could enjoy a publication of their own. The magazine was described as being scholarly, conservative, and Uni- tarian. In summary this fact may be stated: the New England imagination had been roused by the tales of travelers and the gains of commerce, the revival of an- cient learning, the introduction of modern learning, the excitement of religious con- troversy. George Ticknor was the first person to figure greatly in this new rise of culture. Ticknor, a Dartmouth graduate and law- yer, and Edward Everett, a minister, went on a scholar's mission to Germany, armed with letters of introduction from the foremost men in America to the great men of Europe. As a result of his experi- ences and connections Ticknor was ap- pointed to the Smith Professorship of Belles Lcttres at Harvard, where he pre- pared to teach Popular Latin, Old French, Provencal, Spanish, and Portugese, by studying with most influential instructors in each of these foreign countries. All this was to have its effect on the rising gener- ations of American poets, so many of whom were to study under Ticknor. William Channing, born in Newport, Rhode Island, followed the infiuence of Ticknor. When he reached the age of twenty, the country was beginning to feel the Industrial Revolution C1760 - 18405. Channing was a Unitarian minister, and quite often preached about this new era in industrial development. He continu- ously pondered over these problems: how to destroy the worship of money, how to elevate the depressed classes, how to re- move the evils of competition, the union of' labour and culture, and slavery in the South. The ironing out of these problems came chiefly through his sermons and lec- tures. In harrowing the ground for life, he had harrowed the ground for literature - A country, like an individual, has digni- ty and power only in proportion as it is self-formed. Whereas Channing was the great poli- tical figure of the day, Daniel Webster was the greatest historical figure. No truer words were spoken than these, Webster was a Philistine in all but his devotion to the welfare of the State, his deep strain of racial piety, - this was the grand thing in Webster . His power of oratory was as great as that of Burke. He could invest a common murder-case with the atmos- phere of an Aeschylean drama. To make him a human individual, Webster had many faults. He spent money in a grand way, borrowing and lending with equal freedom. He was far from sober, or would have been if two tumblers of brandy had been enough to put him under the table. From Boston, across New England, across the nation, Webster's fame spread, as the years advanced. Noah Webster contri- buted his dictionaryg Daniel Webster con- tributed a personality buttressed with the kind of authority that could not be gain- said. The great literary figures of the day were Hawthorne, Thoreau, and Emerson. To enjoy fully Hawthorne's work we must know his four rules of life: to break off customs, to meditate on youth, to shake off spirits ill-disposed, to do nothing against one's genius. No other American writer had revealed a gift for finding his proper subjects, no other had so con- sciously pursued his ends. The chief char- acteristic of Thorean's work is his solid- ness. He cared nothing for society or the more elevated pleasures of life. If only writers lived more earnest lives, their minds would pass over the ground like ploughs, pressed down to the beam, like rollers that were loaded, not hollow and wooden, driving in the seed to germinate. The background of Emerson's works may be summed up in one sentence. Every- thing that ever was or will be is here in the enveloping now, he who obeys himself is a part of fate. Thus, through the pages of this book we have discovered that Brooks has pre- sented the background for this cultural era - from its swaddling clothes to its vigorous youth in the nineteenth century. Frank Keith '37 MY FIRST ROMANCE My first romance began in the little picturesque town my family moved to when I was four years old. It was a typi- cal country town, with its one movie-hall, its small country school-house, and its one grocery store, of which my father was the owner. I hated the thought of living there, because the people were rather un- friendly to newcomers. Gradually, how- ever, the ice was broken, and it was a

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THE HILLTOP 13 REFLECTIONS BY THE SEASIDE To stroll leisurely by the ocean on a clear, Windy day is .y greatest delight. My steps keep in.. ' e with the steady pounding and cras g of the waves upon the jagged rocks all around. I think, What a carefree world this is! as a pair of sea gulls glide peacefully around the bend and scatter quickly with a hurried flapping of their wings when they notice my presence. The white, flung spray of the giant waves rises high and breaks into a million drops, spraying all in its path. Far out at sea white wind-blown sails are visible as a ship plows slowly through the sea-green waters into port. Why all this hurry and rushing in the world? No mat- ter what goes on all around, the gulls will continue to soar, and this same water will go on forever crashing on decks of sea- going vessels or upon the sandy beach, peaceful, untouched by human hands. Shirley Burnham '39 OLD-FASHIONED PARENTS Are you afflicted with old-fashioned par- ents? If you are, I can sympathize with you. If not, I will tell you what they are, so that you can condole with some of your classmates. They put on the red flannels and winter overcoat November first and would rather die than remove them before Decoration Day. To them spring is a time for sulphur and molasses, housecleaning, and planting the garden. If you should go bareheaded in winter or ask to go swimming before the Fourth of July, they would call you crazy. Father covertly tells you about the days of his youth as a gay young blade, of the days when he used to spend a week in Boston, taking in all the burlesques, and then he won't give you a quarter to go to the movies to see Mae West. When you purchase a suit, it is three sizes too big. When you protest, you are told, Now John, you're a growing boy. By the time it becomes an appropriate fit, it is worn out. Now, John, your father wears a suit for ten years before it's worn out. I don't see Why in the world you can't do the same. Their suits, shoes, and hats are always black and their shirts white. Any other color is too loud and vulgar. It is all foolishness when I wear a different tie every day and want dark- colored plaid shirts. They warn you against contests of all kinds, travelling salesmen, and the install- ment plan. Over some period of time you have saved up two dollars. You invest it in a dandy air rifle. When you display it proudly to your aunt, she says condes- cendingly, That's a great deal of money to spend so foolishly. You should have put it in the bank . The rifle immediately loses all its glamour. They consider money only something to put in the bank, not a means of enjoyment. They do not be- lieve in enjoying it. In Massachusetts the age limit for auto licenses is sixteen years. There is a bill coming up in the legislature to raise it to eighteen years, but if that matter were in their jurisdiction, it would be raised to twenty-one. In their day, a boy could drive a horse 'almost as soon as he could walk. They just don't understand how much a car means to a boy now. If you go to a party, they sit up until you get home and ask so many questions that you never want to go to any more parties. Modern dancing and swing music are sinful. Old-fashioned parents are the monkey-wrenches in the wheels of prog- ress. John Giffin '38 MODERN GYPSIES Carefree and happy, but never willing to stay in one place very long are the modern gypsies who have hitched their wagons to their cars. They travel over mountains, across deserts, up hill, down dale, visiting such places as the Grand Canyon, the Pairited Desert, Niagara Falls, Yellowstone Park, Mt. Ranier Na- tional Park, the Golden Gate in San Fran- cisco, the Mormon Cathedral in Salt Lake City, the sun-drenched valleys in Cali- fornia, Boulder Dam, and the Petrified Forest. These modern gypsies differ from the roving bands of Bohemians who travel from place to place throughout the year and earn their living by telling for- tunes, singing, and dancing. They differ from the desert nomads who wander from one place to another seeking pastur- age for their flocks. Until the later years of the depression the trailer was practically unheard of ex-