Wells High School - Crimson and Gray Yearbook (Southbridge, MA)

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THE CRIMSON AND GRAY ' ' Didn ' t go, replied Tom. Saw a couple of twelve year old kids on the street. They looked half starved, so I gave ' em a feed, and took ' em to the movies. Did you enjoy the family party, Bob? Bob smiled. I didn ' t stay at home, even for dinner. You see, on my way home, in the station, I ran across Jim Brown, a fellow who used to be on the same ship with me. He ' s sort of alone in the world, and he couldn ' t seem to get work anywhere. Mighty bright chap, too! I knew of a Mr. Boberts, a friend of my father ' s, who would surely have a position for him, but Mr. Boberts was going on a Western trip the day after Thanksgiving. So Jim and I had to go to his home. He lives in Dover, New Hamp- shire, and it was a horrid trip ; took all day, but we got the job, so I was glad I went. Jim Ward suddenly spoke. If you think I ' m going to listen without saying a word, you ' re mistaken. I enjoyed my day, as well. A woman who lives not far from us, is wholly alone. When I went by her house on my way to dinner, she was trying to chop some wood. I chopped for about an hour and after dinner I went back and piled the wood up for her. She was very grateful, as you can imagine. Jack Browning ' s face glowed. Fellows, he said, you ' re great to do all those things. Now, I think you ' ll all agree with me that the true spirit of Thanksgiving is to give other people who are less fortunate than our- selves something to be thankful for. Anyone who doesn ' t agree, say so. And the room was absolutely silent. Isabel Corey, ' 20. BOBBY ' S THANKSGIVING (A Kindergarten Story) It was a cold, raw, winter day. The wind howled furiously, and the snow that had com- menced falling in the morning was now com- ing down in a white blanket, covering everything. In fact, a. genuine New England snow storm was raging, and little Bobby, who had come out to the farm to spend his Thanksgiving recess with his grandmother, began to feel more and more restless as he realized that the snow would make it impos- sible for him to go out of the house for sev- eral days. The snow was so deep he could not even go to the barn, a short distance from the house, to see Mrs. Tabby and her family of five little kittens. Bobby was (lis consolate. Even grandmother had no time for him — grandmother who could tell the most wonderful stories. Why, Bobby never tired of listening to them ! But now she was very busy cooking, preparing the Thank? giving dinner to which Bobby always looked forward with so much pleasure. So he was obliged to entertain himself the greater part of the afternoon. And surely entertainment was not lacking in the old farmhouse! Grandmother brought out all the old toys that had helped to while away the childhood hours of Bobby ' s father. But after a time even these consolations brought no joy to Bobby. He began to feel homesick and went again and again to the window to see if it had not stopped snowing. But no. Bobby felt a big lump come up in his throat. He gulped it down as best he could, for he was such a big boy he did not want anyone to see that he even felt like crying. When he turned from the window, there was grandmother sitting in her big wing chair just waiting for Bobby to come into her lap. It did seem so good to cuddle down ! And before Bobby realized she had started to tell him a really true story about herself : One day, many years ago, began grand- mother, when I was a little girl, mother and father were suddenly called to a nearby town because of the severe illness of a very dear friend of mother ' s. As I was the older of the two children, the duty fell upon me to keep house and take care of my baby sis- ter. Mother and father assured me that they woidd be back before evening, so there was no cause to feel any alarm. All went nicely during the afternoon. Baby was contented, and the time flew faster than I had expected. When dusk began to gather, I gave baby her supper and put her to bed. Then I went to read in the great living room until the return of my parents.. I became so intensely inter- ested in my book — it was Scott ' s ' Ivanhoe, ' I remember distinctly — that I knew nothing of what was taking place around me, until I suddenly realized that I smelled smoke. In a moment I was on my feet. I discovered that a fire had started in the large built-in wood box near the stove. The box was already burning and made quite a headway. I grabbed two pails and started for the pump, fortunately not far from the house. Back and forth I went for hours, so it seemed to me. The pails were heavy, though I cared not for that. I was thinking of little Betsey and the house. But at last the fire was entirely out, and after cleaning up the debris, I went back once more to wait. Jingle, jingle! What was that? It cer- tainly sounded like sleigh bells, and surely they were coming nearer and nearer. Yes,

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WYsteS LITERATURE THE SPIRIT OF THANKSGIVING Outside, the afternoon was stormy. The rain was beating steadily against the win- dow panes and everything was dark and dreary. But inside the fraternity house all was different; a bright fire crackled merrily in the huge fireplace, around which were seated a few college men. Well, one of them was saying today ' s the sixteenth of November; that means Thanksgiving recess is coming soon. What are you planning to do besides eating the usual amount of turkey and cranberry- sauce? Tom Harlow, seated nearest the fire, an- swered first. I had to spend last Thanksgiving in camp, and although we had a mighty fine dinner, it wasn ' t much like the ones we have at home. So I don ' t mind telling you frank- ly that I intend to spend the holiday this year, by thoroughly enjoying myself, — din- ner at noon, football game in the afternoon, and a dance at night. Sounds good to me! What have the rest of you planned? Theater for mine, said Ed Haynes. And a girl. But I haven ' t decided which girl to take. Just think, he continued, half to him- self, a year ago I was on the Italian Front, wondering, probably, if I would ever have an A. B. degree of my own! And I ' ll have it next June ! Don ' t be too sure, cautioned Jim Ward. The girl question seems to be a pretty seri- ous one in your case, and I think you ' re de- voting too much time to the so-calied ' fairer sex. ' But if they were as fair as they are reputed to be, they ' d ignore you so that you would have no alternative but study. Of course, girls are the correct things to have once in a while. For instance, I ' m going to have Thanksgiving dinner with one and we ' re going to ride afterwards. And for another instance, h-oke in a new voice, belonging to Bob Graham, in England there ' s a girl with whom I spent last Thanksgiving when I was on shore leave, and she ' s the prettiest instance I know of. Her family celebrated Thanksgiving just for me, too. I ' m going to stay at home, this hol- iday. Wild horses couldn ' t drag me from the family. But, Jack, turning to the first speaker who had remained quiet since his question, what are you going to do ? Jack Browning looked rather serious as he answered. One of my A. E. F. buddies is in the Hospital and I ' m going to spend at least part of the day with him. If he is well enough, I ' d like to take him for a short ride. Good night, everybody, and he left the room. The first afternoon of their return after the holiday, the same fellows were sitting around the same fire-place. Again Jack started the conversation. Well, he began politely. I hope your plans all worked out satisfactorily. You may have had great times, but you didn ' t feel any more repaid than I in the end, I ' m sure. I didn ' t realize that anyone could be so grateful until I took that buddie of mine to ride. Which girl did you finally take, Ed? Ed beamed. A new one! he said. This statement was met with a groan from Jim. Tell us about her, Ed, he begged, and get it over with. And incidentally, what show did you take her to, ' Look Who ' s Here, ' or ' Somebody ' s Sweetheart ' ? Neither, answered Ed, becoming serious. I went to church. You see, my pal ' went West. ' So I spent Thanksgiving with his mother. How was the football game, Tom ?

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THE CRIMSON AND GRAY actually coming up to the door! It was father and mother! How glad I was to see them! Of course the whole story had to be told. How proud father and mother were of me! They said they would rather have a daughter like that than all the wealth in the world, and you may be sure it made me ex- tremely happy. Bobby liked the story very much, and when grandmother ceased speaking he gave her a big bear hug. Could it be possible that his grandmother was that brave little girl of so long ago ; that this was the very house where the story happened ! And then Bobby looked out of the window and saw that the snow had stopped falling, that Every pine and fir and hemlock Wore ermine too dear for an earl, And the poorest twig on the elm tree Was ridged inch deep with pearl. Who w r as that coming up the drive-way? It certainly looked like old Ned, the horse, and the family sleigh. It was! and Bobby jumped up from his seat, arriving at the door- just as the sleigh stopped. There were father and mother! They had come to give Bobby, a surprise, and to be with grandmother oil Thanksgiving Day. And Bobby ' s happiness was complete. Marjoric Harris, ' 23. AS TIMES PASSES A Christmas of 1864 Part I. It was Christmas Day. Outside the snow was falling heavily. In a big, cheerless room destitute of all comforts, sat two girls mak- ing a patch-work quilt. As their fingers were busily putting the patches together, they were talking about the politics of the time. For my part, I am glad Lincoln was re- e ' ectel, said Mary, the oiler and prettier of the two. Well, I ' m not, retorted her sister Louise, And I suppose you are glad the Northerners are winning too! Eeally, Mary, in spite of all we have suffered I believe you are in sympathy with them, and she glanced around the room where formerly comfort, such as one could find only on a Southern plantation, prevailed. But the three years of civil conflict had rapirlly diminished the w r ealth of the proud Randalls. Now the two motherless daughters of the family were sad- ly comparing this Christmas Day with for- mer ones, when good cheer and hospitality had made their house the merriest of the country round. Mary sighed. She wondered wdiere her father was today. Major Randall was intensely Confederate in his sympathies, and so also were the whole household — all but Mary. She had fallen in love with a young Northerner. When the war came Jim had immediately enlisted. He had been killed in the battle of Shenandoah Valley, and though Mary never voiced her opinions her heart was with the North. As the girls sat there thinking sadly of the misery of the South, the sound of foot- steps was heard on the path. The next in- stant a loud knock resounded through the house. Mary ran to the door. Before her stood a young man in Confederate uniform. Help me, he gasped, as he almost pushed his way into the house and shut the door. Mary ' s eyes widened in surprise. A Southern soldier is in no danger here. A look of desperation appeared in the young soldier ' s face. I ' m not a Confederate; I ' m a Fede ral man. They are after me! Hide me! Through Mary ' s brain flashed the thought, This might have been Jim. Follow me, she said, and turning she ran back to the room wdvich she had just left. Quick as a flash she emptied the scraps from the big scrap-bag and pushed the young soldier into it. Then she covered him with the scraps until the bag looked natural. Just as she finished explaining the situation to Louise, hoof-beats were heard, and there came a knock at the door. Louise, dear, please promise to keep sil- ent for my sake — and Jim ' s, Mary whis- pered. Then she ran to the door. A com- pany of Confederate soldiers with their cap- tain confronted her. Pardon me, said the captain, but we have been following a spy, and his tracks end here at your door. We must search the house. Very well, replied Mary, as she stepped to one side to admit them. The captain, apparently very much at- tracted by Mary, ordered his men to begin the search with the attic and not to overlook a nook or cranny. In the meantime he would remain with the Misses Randall. Three hours later the men reported every part of the house searched except that room in wdiich the officer and the girls sat. The captain said he had inspected everything except the big scrap-bag. And indeed you ' ll not look through that and get the pieces all over the floor for me to pick up, stated Mary. And she immedi- ately sat on the bag.