Westerly High School - Westlyan Yearbook (Westerly, RI)

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30 THE SENIOR YEAR BOOK van -Jew Before me were Abie Soloveitzik, with his megaphone and fifty-seven C573 students. My own class! Every member! The Spirit of 1928 had guided me to the Castle of Nowhere, the rendezvous for the Reunion of the Class of 1928. There were Madelyn Sutcliffe and Edwin Sawyer with banners on their arms, the most popular girl and boy respec- tively. And behold another well known person, our best ath- lete, Pinkie Meikle. I began to feel as if we were once again in our dear old W. H. S., minus our books, our teachers, and our classes. Martina Giannoni and John Hogan, always judged by our class as the wittiest, were certainly amusing our class to- night, too. And over in the corner were Lenora Goldberg and Bud Fisher doing the Tango No doubt you know that they were our expert dancers. - From here my eyes strayed to the opposite corner. There was our class preacher, Mary Kenyon, delivering advice to a number of outstanding individuals of our class, namely, our man-hater, Beatrice Silverstein, our class phonograph, Ed- wina Matthews, the angel, Albert Spicer, the class cut-up, Leo Spellman, the class shark, Lillian Ruisi, the laziest member, John Hogan, Lila Carpenter, the busiest, and Alfred Dower, the class grind. Soon her sermon was ended and the group scattered. Glancing around the room, I happened to notice a large hole in the center of the north wall. With less than three snaps of my finger up jumped a little body and stood on the plaster. Remembering that I had met this little creature before, I walked over and questioned him. What is the idea of interrupting our Reunion? He said, I am willing to answer any questions you might ask me in connection with the members of the Class of 1928.9 With my classmates seated around me I asked him one question after another. To my first question he named Mary Kenyon and Ralph Christy, the smartest, Arthur Gervasini, our champion bluff- er, Helen Murphy and Abie Soloveitzik, our artists, Beatrice Silverstein and Charles Campbell, our best speakers. Then, as to the disposition of the members, he decided that Mary Panciera and Lewis Wilcox were the best natured. After a few moments of silence, he told me that Archille Piccolo was our class pest, Dallas Clarke, the most pessimistic, and Grace Walton, the most optimistic. The honor of being the noisiest person should undoubtedly go to Abie Novogroski, and the honor of the quietest to Helen Cherry. Without much

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THE SENIOR YEAR BOOK 29 'wb WG' Class Statistics One summer afternoon, I set out without any thought as to where my walk would end. Through the gate at the back of the yard I went, and up the steep hill I' scrambled, over slip- pery logs and stonesg under dripping branches, and through clumps of wet weeds and bushes. The air smelt moist and woodsy and seemed very oppressiveg but I resolutely pursued my difficult and laborious bit of journey. Panting and sweat- ing, foot by foot I ascended a hill, and at last I emerged from the strip of woodland into a pasture field, and stood upon the crest of a long undulated ridge that overlooked the deep val- ley below. I set off across the bit of valley and dashed headlong in among the trees on the other side. I progressed deeper and deeper into the wooded solitude. Presently I emerged into an open space, a natural arena in the forest. I was about to turn back from my tedious adventure when a wee, tinkling voice cried, Keep up your good spirit, my friend, and follow me. So you know what is drawing me away from home ? I questioned the invisible creature. Yes, I was sent here to guide you. Come I Who are you, my little man? said I. VVhy surely you remember me, said the high-pitched voice, I am the Spirit of 1928, and your class guardian, But where are you taking me? I asked. Be patient, wait and see, he replied. Oh, will my brain everbe disentangled from the net in which it is caught! Oh, Spirit, do answer me this one ques- tion, where are we going! To a Class Reunion? Where are all my classmates ? Somewhere, somehow, you will find them, he answered. Oh, how could this little creature keep me in suspense? If Znly I could grasp his shoulders and shake the words out of im! I reached forward, outstretched my arm, opened and clenched my hand, one tight grasp, but alas, the bodiless spirit eluded my grasp, yet the power of this intangible creature seemed to be stronger than mine. I sped along with this magnetic force drawing me onward. Suddenly, soft strains of music were heard in the distance. As I approached nearer, I identified the tune of our old school favorite, Cheer for Old Westerly. I was standing before a wonderful castle. Up the marble stairway I ascended, through the many portals until I found myself in a large reception room.

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THE SENIOR YEAR ISOOK 31 van .lm hesitation he announced Elvira Giannoni and William Daly as the babies of our class. From this point the conversation wandered to appear- ances and we agreed that Lenora Goldberg and Bud Fisher were not only the best dancers but also the best dressed mem- bersg and Florence DeRocco and Byron Hiscox the neatest. VVho is our most handsome youth ? I asked. The Spirit pondered. I heard a witty member of our class saying in a low tone, We are all good looking, how can he ever answer that ? Hogan perhaps thought I didnit hear him, but I warned him that there was very little said that I didn't hear. After deliberate though the Spirit finally decided that Eu- gene Malaghan was worthy of this honor. However, I think that Hogan seemed overjoyed when Malaghan was named The Handsomest Man, and really did not feel the least bit slighted. Again I turned to the Spirit with my last question. What boy has done the most for the class ? Edwin Sawyer came his answer. With one movement of the eyelid the little old creature disappeared. What valuable information he had imparted to me. Such a buzz of conversation followed until the company was called to order by our former President, Edwin Sawyer. Then we listened to interesting sketches from our Senior Play - Quality Street -given by our most excellent actors, Mad- elyn Sutcliffe and Gordon Streeter. Everything had ended! After many a hearty handshake, I tripped down the im- mense hall to the steps. Soon I was back on the path through the woods, with the Spirit guiding me. After a long and tire- some journey, I ,bade good-bye to the Spirit and was once again alone with visions of what had passed. I must have lost consciousness for a slight bump, a light jar, roused me to a sense of my surroundings. I opened my eyes and stared about me. Yes, I was home! Such a wonder- ful dream! ELEANOR DALEY, , Class Statistician.