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

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UR RECOMPENSE Tomorrow he would leave Danville. He would escape those old men with their mouthy prophecies of how much use a boy of fourteen wasn ' t, what a lot he would eat, and how little he could repay his keep on the poor farm. As he fingered the locket about his neck, his mind went back to Mother Carey. He remembered the story of his arrival in little Danville. Along with a crowd of lonely Fresh Air Fund youngsters, in the care of a severe, stern nurse, he had been unloaded at the small village. Mother Carey had taken him, in his torn, ragged clothes, clutching a locket, on which there had been a monogram, and had kept him for two weeks. At the end of that time, the nurse, finding no record of him, had returned to the city to find out who he was, which was the last that had been heard of her. The boy, remembering no name but Sammy, had be- come Sam Carey. Old Caleb Rheumit had said, He had calculated, by the number and condition of his teeth, at that time, he was about five years old. Sam had gone to school and had done his bit, so they man- aged to scrape along in meagre fashion. Al- though not much of the world ' s riches was present in the little home, it was filled to overflowing by the love of - the two com- panions for each other. Then, while he was in school Mother had died suddenly, of heart-disease. Sam was left alone, as Mrs. Carey had as few relatives as dollars; the only place left was the poor farm. He was in a neighbor ' s house now, the last night (they thought) before the almshouse. He was going to fool them though, and leave on the early morning train. He would go back to New York, the city of his birth. He had a little money saved, now was the time to use it. Soon he fell asleep, resolved always to wear the locket, to finish what he began, and to be honest and true, as Mother had so often told him. It was a cold, drizzly afternoon in New York. Outside, the rain beat against the windows and the wind howled around the corners. Sam had arrived at his destina- tion at last. Of the trip in the rumbling, roaring train he had little recollection. The following days of weariness and nights of cold in the parks had blotted it out. Finally he had found out about a kind, big business man, who helped deserving boys ; he was now in his outer office. It seemed that this gentle- man ' s son had disappeared years before, re- sulting in the man ' s devoting himself to helping needy boys, beside his business inter- ests. The door opened and Sam went into the luxuriously furnished office for his inter- view. Six months afterward, Sam Carey, office boy for his kind benefactor, had learned to love and admire him almost as much as he had loved Mother Carey. George Goodhue, because of Sam ' s truthful, steady work, had come to regard him almost as a son, and caught himself sighing several times as

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THE CRIMSON AND GRAY A TRIP TO A MUSEUM This summer I spent a month in New York. I think it ' s safe to say that nowhere can one visit so many places of interest as in this famous city. However, this time, I can only mention the museum that I saw. The museum is called The Museum of Natural History. The building itself is immense, and it con- tains so many articles of interest, all in their natural form, that people who should know, claim it would take several months to see everything in it, and to know something about each thing. By the way, I didn ' t stay several months, only one brief afternoon, and being a person of only moderate mental power, I couldn ' t grasp so much material and consequently my mind was in a daze. How many of you know that stars are only rocks? I admit I didn ' t know. The first room I entered, contained black rocks of different shapes and sizes. Upon reading the sign I learned that these were parts of stars that had fallen from the heavens. Some of these huge rocks weighed several tons ! From this room we wandered into a place that gave me a funny feeling down my spine. This was a huge chamber . filled with tall poles carved with the awfullest looking faces and figures. These were the Totem Poles we have all heard so much about, and read about in Indian stories. There were also, all sorts of queer Indian relics and some of the most hideous masks I ' ve ever had the rather doubtful pleasure of seeing. But the thing I thought was most wonder- ful in this room was a large glass case in which were several figures. These figures were life-size, and they were so life-like I thought they ' d actually speak to me. The figures were all occupied with a task. Some of the women were sewing, one of the women was pounding corn into meal, one of the men was carving. I gazed quite fascinated, and it was with some difficulty that I was made to realize time was short and there were many other things to see. A museum is really quite a spooky place. The next room was full of human skulls and skeletons, all grinning at me. I really didn ' t care about going any further, but again my cousin persuaded me to go in and investi- gate. Here, too, I will mention only one incident that particularly impressed me. This was a study of evolution. Figures ar- ranged from monkeys to human beings, showing the marked resemblance. I never felt as much of a monkey as when gazing at this spectacle ! I visited the room where all the precious stones were kept. They are a really beauti- ful collection and the colors of some of these gems fit the adjective, gorgeous. I think the guard ' regarded me with marked suspicion. I never suspected I looked like such a des- perate character. I saw butterflies, birds, beasts of every species, even rats and even skeletons of pre- historic animals. Oh, it seems as if I could go on for ages, but really the pen is too in- adequate to describe all the things unless one is especially gifted. All I can say is that if you are ever in New York, be sure to visit the museum and see for yourself. P. Krasnov, ' 28.

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10 THE CRIMSON AND GRAY Sam ' s cheerful face reminded him of events long past. The boy (you see) had not for- gotten Mother ' s advice and was well on his way to advancement. One rainy afternoon the boss, after tell- ing him to deliver a message expected short- ly, left for his home at about three o ' clock. As the note would perhaps necessitate Mr. Goodhue ' s taking a long trip, it was very im- portant. About five o ' clock Sam set out for his employer ' s home in the dark, rainy streets. When, cold and damp, he reached the house, one of the servants said that Mr. Goodhue had gone to his country home to find some business papers relating to a new account. The telephone had been put out of commission by the storm, so the weary boy set out for the country. At the end of the car tracks he descended and, after look- ing around in the murky, rainy, atmosphere, started on the four-frnile trudge. It was dark ; he was tired ; his clothes were wring- ing wet ; the mud was slimy and treacherous, and still four miles to go. Dark woods on either side; unknown darkness ahead and be- hind and still three miles. At last the lights of a house peeped through the mist just as a car came slipping and tearing through the mud. The boy wearily heard the gardener say, Master had just gone back to town to finish his work. Again the wearing, heart-break- ing, three miles. Smush, smuck, went his shoes, sinking and then rising out of the everlasting muck. Twice he resumed his toil. At last came the trolley and the last of his money, then his employer ' s house, the open door, the note, Mr. Goodhue, oblivion. He awoke in a wonderful, soft bed with his kind friend ' s and his wife ' s faces beam- ing over him, then learned a wonderful piece of news. Mrs. Goodhue had recognized his locket, when the doctor had come, as the same as the one which had disappeared from her dressing table ten ears (before; the same time at which her little boy had been kidnapped. Sam was Mr. Goodhue ' s son, John. Afterward it was found out that a nurse, after kidnapping John, fearing pursuit, had abandoned him in the slums where he had become ragged and dirty, after playing all day. By some chance he had become caught in a crowd of children going to the country, by means of the Fresh Air Fund. The time of his arrival was verified later by the natives of Danville, proving that he was John Goodhue. John often thanked God for the advice which Mother Carey had given him, Per- severance and Patience overcome all things, for it had restored to him his mother and father. Keith Middleton, ' 27. R. S. V. P. As the train drew into the quiet station at Littleton, the few ne ' er-do-wells who always met the trains, moved a little to see who, if anyone, had arrived. The first person whom they saw was a young girl, attractive and well dressed. Her luggage was distinctly new looking, and con- sisted of a large trunk, two shiny suitcases, and a hatbox. Wal, observed Jeff Davis, one of the town ' s do-nothings, thet must be the new teacher. I heard she was comin ' terday. A short time afterward a young man, about thirty years old, alighted from the train. Now the loungers began to take no- tice, for they had expected only one pas- senger at the most. This man had an air of mystery about him. Not that there was any- thing sinister about him, but he kept glanc- ing at the girl and then at the train. Soon a third person had stepped from the train. Great guns, declared Jeff, I don ' t know when so many people have come at once on a train since I ' ve been meeting ' em. Oh, I forgot that time the Woman ' s Club had the State something or other come. Seven peo- ple came that day. By this time the third passenger had joined the young man, and was talking with him, and they soon set out toward the village. One would think from the description of the train-meeting that Littleton was a sleepy country town. Not at all. There are always a few loungers who meet the trains even in large towns. The hotel was a three-story affair which served the needs of the traveling salesmen who often stopped there. The mysterious stranger and his companion had reached the hotel, registered, and gone to their rooms when Jeff Davis reached there. First making sure that the clerk was not about, he quickly opened the register and there read, Robert S. Van, New York City, and James L. Vernon, valet, New York City. Hmm, mused Jeff, valet, New York City, wonder what they ' re doin ' here. Yes,