Westerly High School - Westlyan Yearbook (Westerly, RI)

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The Senior Year Book — 1938 BUD—I pity the fellow who inherits it. HENRY—Ha! Jealous again, Bud! Why dop't you will your knack of managing the Senior activities? FRANCES—He has a knack—look at our Senior Prom; that certainly was a success. ANGELO—Of course, the band was a little late; just about an hour, wasn’t it? BUD—Well, you can't blame me for that. CATHERINE—I could will the joy of returning a second year to the new building to the Juniors. FRANCES—Will them our sympathies when they try to decorate the gym— they’ll need it. MARCELLE—Or a little courage whep they tackle the Senior Play. HENRY»—Never mind courage. How about acting ability? ANGELO—Pride and Prejudice was a success, wasn’t it? I enjoyed it almost as much ak the Varieties. BUD—You mean almost as much as the football chorus. Nothing will ever best thflt CATHERINE—I’d will the grass skirts the team used, but I’m afraid there isn’t much left of them. Help me write that will now, won’t you please? You’ve talked about everything we ever did. THELMA — Everything? Why, we haven’t even started yet. There was the Student Council Convention in the new High School—with Eddie Coyle playing host to the representatives from the State. ANGELO—Eddie certainly did a good job of the Student Council presidency. Buying that electric phonograph was a wise step; and the Amateur Show was a great success. MARCELLE—It’s surprising how much hidden talent was discovered. Just think, some day students of Westerly High may hear those same people over the radio. CATHERINE—Do you mean any radio, or the one that the Senior Board donated to the school this year? FRANCES—That radio will probably be an antique by the time we reach fame. Let’s hear your will, Catherine. CATHERINE—I’ll read as much as I have written—and please don’t laugh until I—Oh, hello there! I was just to read my half of the will, Stanton. (Stanton Langworthy, Mary Helfrich, and Barbara Edmonds come in and take the last available table. Stanton speaks.) STANTON—Go ahead, Catherine. I have mine here, too. CATHERINE—(after everyone has quieted down) We, the Class of 1938, do hereby make and declare this our last will and testament and revoke all previous testamentary dispositions made by us”— and that’s the correct form, in case you’re interested, Stanton. “We give and bequeath to the Faculty an old family album in which to keep their yearbook pictures of past, present, and future teachers. These should unquestionably be preserved for future generations of instructors so that they may enjoy a hearty laugh when teaching appears staid and lugubrious. “To our Alma Mater we bequeath a copious supply of fur hats and coats to be distributed to the frailer members of the school while they shiver in the icy blasts during the all-too-frequent fire drills. “We impart to the Junior Class our initiative and cooperation in which they proved themselves so sadly lacking by their failure to have a Junior Prom. “To the Sophomores we send six of Walter Winchell’s well known orchids for demonstrating themselves anything but inconspicuous, unobtrusive, and inferior. “To the girls of the Junior and Sophomore classes we leave numerous Charlie McCarthy dolls with Fred Astaire’s dancing ability so that they may not have to stage the first stag prom in the history of W. H. S. just because the boys won't dance. “Our contributions to the Janitors is a set of vacuum cleaners whose suction ability enables one to pick up papers without the bending of the hips. “We, the girls of Room 7, reluctantly will our seats in Coach Mudge’s home room to any girls lucky enough to receive them, but with the assurance that those less fortunate than they will find excuses to visit this attractive room several times a week. (This added remark made after a year of experience.) —«8( 11

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The Senior Year Book — 1938 wa H| j gave our Junior Prom! That was a success—the first in five years! MARCELLE—I’ll never forget that Prom! Remember how funny Fred Ulles looked when he pulled the ventilator cord and the whole attachment fell down on him? And how we had to tease and beg and threaten Bud Clarke to lead the Grand March ? THELMA—I bet that’s one time he wished he had never been elected president of our class! MARCELLE—That was the least of his worries, I imagine. Being president of any class in both Junior and Senior years is no easy job—(Bud at this moment appears in the doorway)—Well, well, if it isn’t the president himself. Don’t tell me you’re alone! BUD—Henry and Angelo were with me, but I lost them on the way. Mind if I join you? Keep right on gossiping— who was the victim? THELMA—As a matter of fact, we were talking about you, Bud. MARCELLE—Yes, do tell us how it feels to be president of a class for two years in succession. Bud. I might turn out to be a reporter, so I might as well get experience in interviewing people. BUD—Be glad to, if you’ll tell me how it feels to be elected Editor of the School Magazine. MARCELLE—Well, ah — maybe we’d better get back to our Junior Prom! That’s a much safer subject. THELMA—We’ve been reminiscing, Bud. What did we do during our Junior year besides giving our Prom ? BUD—I suppose you socially-minded females have forgotten all about the special exams we took. THELMA—How could we? A whole day of examinations just to rate our school with 50 million others in the United States. BUD—And the athletics just don’t count in your memories—David Lownds was awarded the Hi-Y cup, lucky fellow! Frank Sammataro was captain of the basketball team for two years. Junior and Senior. He certainly merits just a little space in your book of memories. MARCELLE — Oh, yes — Margaret Brown won the Blazer for athletic ability in her Junior year, too! THELMA—We certainly walked away with the honors that year—Jean Sherman won first prize in both the prize speaking and Martha C. Babcock contests—Carolyn Crandall was second in Prize Speaking, and Lynthia Browning second in the Essay Contest. BUD—What are you doing? Having a contest to see who can talk most? I’ve never—Here come Henry and Angelo with Frances Westman. (To the three who now appear in doorway) Where have you been? FRANCES—They stopped to save me. I was drowning in my tears. ANGELO (sarcastically)—Reminiscing, don’t you know. Thinking of all the good times she’s had in High School. MARCELLE—That’s what we were doing, but our memories were rather funny. HENRY—Funny to us, but I bet the teachers are glad we’re graduating. FRANCES—There you are, mentioning graduation again—I can’t seem to realize that it’s June—Why, it seems only yesterday we went on our class outing. BUD—What an outing! We had three fires going at least half an hour before the class arrived—I was afraid we would have to build new ones by the time you finally came. THELMA—Well, they lasted long enough to roast the weenies, anyway. ANGELO—A match could have roasted those — they were so small — and the doughnut disappeared before I could say “Peter Piper.” MARCELLE—Well, if you hadn’t eaten so many hot dogs you would have had time for a few doughnuts. HENRY—So you’re the one who ate the extras, Stella—and I was so hungry all through the show at Wakefield I couldn’t concentrate on the pictures. THELMA—There was too much noise to concentrate on anything—Hello, Catherine. What are you looking so glum about ? CATHERINE—Gosh, I can't write our will—Who wants to leave what to which? HENRY—That’s good English, Catherine. Miss Hanson would be proud of you if she were here. MARCELLE—Henry might will his superb use of the English language, Catherine. —4( io )3 ™

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The Senior Year Book. — 1938 “Individual bequests of the Class of 1938 shall be as follows: “I, Grace Gallagher, bequeath my pep, vim, and vigor, which 1 attitbute to Wheat-ies, as well as my shame for originating in Stonington, to Prudy Dower of the Junior Class. “I, Gilbert Hicks, bestow my title of Most Intelligent Boy on Bill Clarke of the Class of '40, whose A's prove him worthy of such an honor. “After days of deep study and concen-centration, I, Pee Wee Smith, have chosen John Flaherty to be my worthy successor as maker of mischief. Despite his meek look. Jack’s pranks keep his friends amused and the faculty baffled. “To anyone who can drive it, I, Elinor Morrison, will my faithful Pontiac—with the added advice that the best remedy for a wrenched back is still the good old-fashioned mustard plaster. “On Gilda Garafolo, 1, Barbara Driggs, bestow my varied and numerous collections of tardy slips and excuses. “I, Robert Means Clarke, confer my knee-action kisses upon Stretch Harvey, who, I am sure, will find difficulties similar to mine if he plays opposite a small Juliet in the ’39 Senior Play. “To Fiametta Donati, I, Thelma Kenyon, give my air of reserve and dignity which will win for her the admiration of both faculty and students.” CATHERINE—Well, that’s my contribution—now how about yours, Stan? STANTON—Let’s have some music first—it sounds too much like a classroom to have both of us reciting. HENRY—You can’t fool us, Stan. You just want to get us in a good mood before you start reading your subtle slurs —but, anyway, it won’t hurt to hear Alfred sing—How about it, Alfred? ALFRED—I’m glad to sing for you any time. What will it be—old or nav. THELMA—Please sing the “Gypsy Love Song,” Alfred! (Alfred sings the song to the accompaniment of the violins. Goes from table to table.) STANTON (after song is finished)— Well, shall I read mine now? It’s better to get unpleasant things over with first, you know. ANGELO—Stop looking for compli- ments, Stan. Go ahead, read it. Has anyone a dictionary handy? I imagine we’ll need one. STANTON—“David Sisson, whose theme song is ‘Down With Love,’ leaves the position of president, treasurer, coach, manager, and bat boy of the Beach Street Hay Pitchers to Brindle. We hope he, too, will put on weight. “Every day is a holiday to Carrie Crandall. who gently mixes her school days with Holidays. A great favorite off, she tops them all when she walks on the stage. Carrie leaves her dramatic ability to Prudy Dower of the Junior Class. “Lightning Morrone, so named because he is always streaking and flashing around, donates his anchor, and several telephone poles, which he uses to stop his car, to William Jacobson. “Lynthia Browning, whose flashing smile and delightful personality would never make one suspect she has her ‘lows’, gives her easy charm to Pauline Merrill. “Frances Houser, whose love for flowers, especially buds, has been noticed, leaves this advice to Betty Krugler: ‘No matter how rosy the petal—don’t pluck while forgetting the thorn.’ “Richard Matzko, the Room 4 funster, leaves the school for the aged, which we have founded for his tottering jokes, to Eddie Hyde. “We, the Belle Monte Boys, who hold meetings daily in Room 5, want to advise the further study of Italian and French, for it has helped is appreciate the true beauty of the teaching staff. “We’ve had to do much coaxing, but we finally persuaded Catherine Dunn and Eleanor Morrison to confess all, and give Phoebe Cottrell some advice on bows (beaux). “Cupid Dolan and Pee Wee Smith have written a book entitled ‘Gone With the Spring,’ with hints on swimming holes, soda fountains, and a group of best-seller excuses for wary teachers. This they dedicate thoughtfully to the Junior boys. “Those philanthropic, phlegmatic, inquisitorial lairds of verbal manipulation, Gilbert Hicks and Roderick Hemphill, to facilitate the propitiation of commendatory verbiage, commensurately offer a Dog-eared Webster (second-hand) to Bud —«5{ 12 )?►-