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

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THE CRIMSON AND GRAY 11 what a different place the world would be if everybody worked like Sir Nolbody Holmes. Buckley DISHES As every man is said to have a bogey dog- ging his footsteps, so every girl has one — dishes. To the average person this may not seem to be so bad — but anyone who has ever done dishes can understand it. Again, to the average person, dishes would seem to be easy to do, but to one who has done them, they certainly aren ' t easy. When girls are about four or five years old, and all their friends have gone back to Fchool, they find themselves without any- thing to do. At this time they decide, for lack of anything better to do, to help their mother do the dishes. About this time they earn the nsme Mama ' s little helper. But the novelty of doing dishes soon wears off, and they stop being Mama ' s little helper, then about four or five years pass, full years — when the little girl starts to school, and acquires new friends, and during these years she doesn ' t have to do dishes, — and is blissfully happy. But then comes a time when mother says that little sister must learn to do things for herself — and so begins an extensive training in the gentle art of dish washing. At first, the novelty of dish washing charms the little victim and she goes about her work with great vim and vigor. This sort of thing con- tinues for about a week, and then, as before, the novelty wears off and dishes become just plain drudgery. Of course, as the little girl ' s mind devel- ops, she begins to understand that if she can only think up an excuse which will sound fairly reasonable, she may be able to get out of the dishes for at least one night. Conse- quently she racks her small brain for a plausi ble excuse, and occasionally she has a brain wave which enables her to spend one even- ing without hearing the call to duty. She uses one excuse as long as she can and then discards it, and does her dishes do- cilely until the next brain-wave comes along. Gradually, howlever, these brain- waves become fewer and farther be- tween and the dish-washer becomes des- perate — wfth that desperation which prompts men to become criminals Occasionally, too, she will go and hide, dur- ing dish time, forgetting the consequences of this act. Why should she run from a task which she knows she will eventually have to do is a problem that the psychologists should study. Looking at it with a strictly unpre- judiced mind, it seems to me that the thing she should have done, was to have followed the line of least resistance, do the dishes and let it go at that. Certainly by this time, the girl is quite an expert — and it wouldn ' t take very much time to do the dishes, for to be an expert at dish- washing is quite an accomplishment, be- cause, to become an expert in this most com- monplace of household art, practice is re- quired — and lots of it. There are times when the dish-washer feels like bouncing all the dishes off a rock. And then there are other times, when she gets a very, very brilliant idea, and says very sweetly to her mother, Mother, don ' t you think it would be an awfully good thing if we used paper plates. Of course. Mother promptly crushes this young hopeful. But the idea recurs again and again, and the young dish-washer is crushed again and again. Gradually the dish-washer become re- signed to her task, and can juggle her plates with ease, and still have time to wonder how in the world she ' s going to find time to do that stack of homework, which has been as- signed to her. Rita Earls ' 31 A LETTER FROM A HIGH SCHOOL MOUSE. Red High School, Waterville, N. J. March 22, 1929 My Dear Joshua Whiskers : I happened to get some paper from the teacher ' s desk, and some ink and a pen from a student ' s desk and here I am writing you a letter from a corner of the Red High School. My other friends have gone to a ban- quet (a girl had left some unusually delici- ous cookies in her lunch box ' ) I must tell

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10 THE CRIMSON AND GRAY the Huns, then he and Brown charged them. The grenade had disabled two guns and killed three soldiers but the remaining ma- chine gun killed Brown instantly and Hadjet felt a hot, searing pain in his arm and another in his shoulder. He shot a man with his rifle and stabbed another with his bayonet and then came to grips with a huge man. He struck wildly out with his closed fist, and he felt a solid thud which told him he had connected somewhere on the big man, then jerking his revolver fi-om his belt, he fired at two Huns and killed them. He felt a pain in his back and turning, hit a man with the barrel of his gun, breaking his jaw. He fired at a man and clowned him. The remaining men crying, Kamerad Kamerad! and thinking that the devil in- carnate was after them, threw down their arms. Hadjet forcing them ahead of him made them carry Sergeant Duffy back to the trenches. Imagine the surprise of Captain O ' Neil, who had given them up for dead, when he saw Hadjet with five Germans in front of him and the Germans carrying Sergeant Duffy. He ordered some soldiers to take the pri- soners away and then said, Private Had- jet, you have , but just then Hadjet dropped to the ground and the Captain cried, Why, he is hurt ! Take him to the hospital quickly! A man picked up Had jet ' s gun which had fallen to the ground and was looking at it, when of a sudden he cried, This gun is empty. Hadjet had marched his prisoners back at the point of an EMPTY gun. When Hadjet had recovered from his ill- ness, he learned that he had been wounded in seven places some of them being serious ones, and he also leai ' ned that the men who would have shouted with joy if he had been killed before, had been coming to the hospi- tal every day and inquiring how he was while one man had threatened to shoot the surgeon if Hadjet died and in so doing had expressed the opinion of the whole regiment. One day the surgeon said that he had a visitor and General Pershing came in. He f-poke a few words of praise and then pinned the War Cross on his chest and left. The day he left the hospital to join the regiment he was agreeably surprised. He walked out of the door and there in front of him was the whole regiment and they burst out cheering when they saw him, but they could not get him to make a speech or talk about his brave act. SIR NOLBODY HOLMES While I was visiting Sir Roger at his es- tate he introduced me to a most unusual character. This man was a country squire like Sir Roger but was very eccentric. He in- vited us to visit him in the next county on the next day. That night I asked Sir Roger about this man whom I saw was a most un- usual make, because among the many troubles the poor man had, he was cross- eyed, bow-legged and spoke in a high pitched voice that showed he had been an excitable character. Sir Roger said Sir Nolbody Holmes was supposed by most of the country folks to be a half-wit and they all made fun of him behind his back. He said that the towns-people near Sir Nolbody ' s estate taught their dogs to jump between their legs until the dogs got so that whenever anyone fixed their legs so that the dogs could jump through, they did so without being told. This, said Sir Roger, was very disconcerting to Sir Nolbody, who could not help but have his legs in such a position and whenever he went to town he always had the dogs jumping through his legs, which he did not in the least favor. When we arrived at his estate the next day, I at once noticed the thoroughness with which everything was done. The gardens were among the finest that I ever saw, the stables were clean and the horses were all thoroughbreds. I at once saw that Sir Nol- body Holmes was not a half-wit, but was, as are many men, very eccentric. As time passed on, I began to appreciate more and more his struggle with nature against the handicap with which he had Been born. On the way back to Sir Roger ' s that night, after a very enjoyable day, I thought to my- self, as Sir Roger prattled meaninglessly,

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12 THE CRIMSON AND GRAY you how I spent my time in this great building of knowledge. In the daytime I must hide my good looks, for the students nearly hypnotize me with their eyes. So I hasten through the corridors ever so quietly, passing through Miss Prim ' s Latin Class, to my music Hall. Sh! I hear that click,-click of the Typing Room. Under the radiator, I listen to it. Click, Click, tick- tick; a-n-d space, shift! R-r-ring! I sit there all day for I hate the other classes. The students seem to pick me right out. Queer, isn ' t it, that they can do so many things at once? Well, humans will be humans! In the afternoon, I usually make my meal downstairs where more than enough crumbs are left and even cheese sometimes. The day makes me a prisoner, so I wait until all are gone. In one desk I made a bed of scrap paper. All would be well if the paper did not tickle and irritate my skin. You know your- self how delicate I am. I am getting to be quite a reader now, must be the school atmosphere, and, in fact, most of my evening is spent in reading girls ' and boys ' notes. I can ' t get over the mushy stuff they write. Here ' s how one reads : — My Dearest Dolores : How about meeting me tonight at the corner of Prospect Street? Yours as ever : Now do you see any sense in that? The test papers are even worse. A good one was written in the five-week test— Shake- speare was born in the twentieth Century. That Count of Mont Crisco or Cristo is a great book, if you ask me; it contains over a thousand pages. Oh, dear! An explosion has just occurred in — Sincerely Mike Knowall P. S. Finish it some other time. Wanda Kwarciak, ' 31 ON BEARS Well ! If there isn ' t another of those dis- gusting old bears ! ! ! Woof ! Woof And its lazy old Patches at that! I ' ll teach him to nose around Master Mackid ' s store-house! Woof! Woof! Old Patches went lumbering off into the forest with complaining grunts and squeals when he heard the familiar bark of Bruce. All bears in that vicinity knew his bark and what it meant. They knew that if they didn ' t clear out of his territory, (which was his master ' s if it was anywhere near camp,) they would be minus a few inches of hide. Bruce thought bears were disgusting. Why, they were so lazy, they couldn ' t get their own food, but had to come nosing into Master Jackie ' s storehouse all the time. His job was to keep those huge bulks of nuis- ance away from the camp. Bruce was a huge Scotch collie. His long, wooly hair was a rich orange brown. He was white on his nose, all around his neck and on his great shaggy breast, on his legs and on the tip of his bushy tail. His little- velvety ears were usually pricked up, listening for the least little noise to inquire into, as Bruce was very inquisitive. Bruce took great pride in his tiny, silky, white front paws. Although small, they were very strong and were not easily tired on his long tramps in the forest. Bruce was staying with his mas- ter Jackie at a deserted lumber camp in Maine. Jackie and Bruce were great pals, and had many a tumbling match out on the grass together. One day as Bruce lay s prawled out before the cabin door, he was attracted by a queer little squealing noise which seemed to come from the forest. Bruce ' s curiosity was im- mediately aroused, and off he went. As he got deeper into the forest the noise became louder. Finally he came to a clearing. The noise seemed to come from a tree in the mid- dle of the clearing. On looking up, Bruce saw a little bear cub, whimpering and cry- ing on a branch. Heavens! Another of those bears! The ground all about the tree was mangled and torn. Bruce looked surprised and rather disgusted that he had come all this way just to see one of those bears. He turned around and trotted for home. But after a few steps he stopped and looked back with uncertainty. What! Did that beast actually have the nerve to follow him! He cocked his head to one side and seemed quite undecided what to do. The little cub had stopped squealing and