Westerly High School - Westlyan Yearbook (Westerly, RI)

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Tiie Senior Year Book — 1939 those gypsies kidnap us? Or a clown sets a firecracker under us? FLORENCE—Now you’ve got us down in the dumps. I can see how you happened to be chosen “the most pessimistic” in our class! What in the world is going to make a gypsy kidnap us? You might think we were all beauties or millionaires! MILLIE—Just the same, it sounds pretty dangerous to me. Say, I’ve got an idea. Remember that class will that was drawn up? In case anything does happen, we’d better make sure that everything in it is bequeathed just right. WALT—I remember having it drawn up, but I’ve forgotten the exact provisions of the will. MILLIE—Well, we could call our lawyer and have him read it for us! Try to get him here, Bill. (Exit Bill.) JOSEPHINE—That’s a good idea! I feel a little better now. I’ll know that if we don’t come back alive, the Juniors and Sophomores will be getting their just dues. FLORENCE—Huh! Those ought to consist of a teething ring and a rattle! WALT—Let’s do something until the lawyer gets here. I have the class poem in my scrap-book. Shall we have that read ? EVERYONE—Sure! Anything! (Poem is read.) BILL—(Enters.) The lawyer says he’ll be right up. He lives just around the corner on the next street. RUTH—Let’s make plans for the Fair! Shall we all go together? GINNY—Yes, let’s. We’ll all meet at Walter’s house and take the bus together. (Door bell rings.) FLORENCE—Oh! oh! Here comes the lawyer. I’ll answer. (Enter Cappuccio in full regalia. Briefcase under arm.) CAPPUCCIO—I realized the necessity of easing this moment of anxiety, as it is not usual for a will to be read before the death of the testators, I’m in extreme apprehension as to the propriety and legality of such procedure. MILLIE—The Class of ’39 will never die, so we might just as well hear the will now, as never! JOSEPHINE—(Aside) He’s just a shyster, and I bet it’ll cost us plenty to satisfy him for this extra trip! JOSEPH—Not at all, Madam! Not at all! I shall consider it a great favor to accommodate the Class of ’39 once more! WALT—I guess that’ll be enough! If you’re going to accommodate well, hurry up and do it! (Joe gives him a pitying glance, and takes an exasperatingly long time to extricate will from briefcase, for which he has difficulty finding the key. Then with much ceremony he unwraps will and with a slow glance at every tense face, begins.) Class Will As Executor of the Class of 1939, the privilege and solemn duty of announcing officially this Last Will and Testament falls on me. Because of the fact that 1 can scarcely view the document without tears, it behooves me to put on my spec-tagoogles in order to perform this important and burdensome duty with which 1 am confronted. We, the Class of 1939, being entirely mentally sound, well balanced, trustworthy, honest, loyal, and thrifty, do hereby formulate this, our Last Will and Testament, declaring null and void all similar documents formerly promulgated by us. Therefore, we shall at once delve into the contents and dispense with the sobs and tears as soon as possible. We, the Class of 1939, bequeath our qualities and treasured possessions as follows : Item 1. We leave Mr. Maxwell alone in his glory, as the best janitor who has ever pushed a broom. Item 2. We, the Senior Class, bequeath the Rock Maples, which almost sent the class into another depression, to whoever may find their shade beneficial. Item 3. I, the squeaky desk in Room 27, will be waiting for some quiet Sophomore history student. Item 4. We, the 39ers, will Mortimer the Skeleton, who is located in the Biology Lab, to Mr. Mudge because of their constant companionship throughout the year. We do this because we feel that only they are able to understand each other. Item 5. I, Joseph Cappuccio, having been duly intrusted to draw up, compile, 8( io )§►-

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The Senior Year Book — 1939 (Ihr Styirtg-Ninera” Art ©nr (Scene opens at Walter Miller’s home. Walter is walking around the room arranging things, when Bill Anderson, the butler, enters.) BILL—The Misses Mildred Link, Ruth Whitford, Josephine Santoro, and Florence Tamer, sir! WALT—Very well, Kitson, show them in. BILL—Very good, sir! (Enter girls) WALT—Well, hello, everyone. (Chorus of hello’s) You’re a little later than I expected. RUTH—I thought I’d never get here. I was studying history—. JOSEPHINE—As usual. RUTH—Then the girls came, and I had to rush to get ready! WALT—Well, I’m glad you all came. The rest will be here soon. Make yourselves comfortable, girls. MILLIE!—It was nice of you, Walt, to invite us over, so that wp could get together once more before we graduate! FLORENCE—Yes! I can tell you, everyone of us is going to miss Westerly High School, the companionship of our friends, and the understanding of our teachers! It’ll be a sad day when we part, perhaps to meet our classmates only occasionally. WALT—As President of the Class for three years, I can say it was composed of a grand group of boys and girls. The class had many talented persons in it, and I know W. H. S. isn't going to be ashamed to point them out as graduates. JOSEPHINE—(Looking out the window.) Here come Ginny and the rest. BILL—Misses Virginia Anderson, Hester Sims, and Mr. Emilio Guarino. (They enter and are greeted by a lively chorus.) WALTER—Now that we’re all here, what’ll we do? Play games? (Chorus of Yes’s and no’s. No’s prevalent.) GINNY—No! Let’s just talk. I’d much rather chat with my classmates than act like a two-year-old! FLORENCE—Well, why not have some music? Almost all the solos in the “Pirates of Penzance” operetta were sung by Seniors. RUTH—Yes, that’s a good idea. MILLIE—Let’s hear some! BILL—Come on, Emilio! EMILIO—Well, all right, you asked for it! (Sings) MILLIE—Say, Bill—I mean, Kitson. are we going to get something to drink? How about some ginger ale? BILL—O. K.—I mean—very good. Mill. JOSEPHINE—And some candy! BILL—Yes, miss, (sarcastically) FLORENCE—Bring some sandwiches too, and after that, we’ll relent, Bill, and let you join us. MILLIE—It doesn’t seem possible. We’ve been Seniors for a whole year, and was it fun! WALT—(Who has gone out—returns.) What are you getting so excited about Ginny? GINNY—(Incoherently reading newspaper.) L-l-look! Tomorrow is the opening day of the World’s Fair! Oh, boy! See, it says so, right here. (Everyone rushes to peer over her shoulder.) FLORENCE—Swell! Let’s all go! WALT—Boy! Rollercoasters! BILL—Ferris wheels! MILLIE—Fortunetellers! Clowns! GINNY—Pop-corn! Icecream! Favors! JOSEPHINE—That’s all very nice. But I’m not covered by insurance and I suspect this Fair is going to be pretty dangerous. Suppose we don’t come back alive? Suppose the Ferris wheel seats fall out! Suppose the roller coaster doesn’t work or works too fast! Gosh, suppose some of - 9

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Tiif. Senior Year Book — 1939 and establish this our Last Will, do hereby designate the following personal belongings of the members of the Class of 1939 to our ardent admirers, the Juniors and Sophomores. 1. 1, Walt Miller, do hereby bequeath a free tuition to any physical education culture school in the East, to the incoming president of the Senior Class, in order that he may attain sulficient muscular power to conduct an orderly class meeting. 2. I, Jim Rose, confer a share of my interest in Beach Street on whomever 1 deem worthy. 3. We, Hester Sims and Emilio Guari-no, bequeath our melodious and extraordinary voices to the W. H. S. chorus. 4. We, Prudy Dower and Bud Saunders, bequeath our profound interest in agricultural matters, especially little pigs, to Grace Harwick and Stanley Gould. 5. I, Harry Tourtelotte, will my rickety Model T Ford to Miss Fallon, who is in dire need of a dependable car. 6. I. Millie Link, will my terpsichorean grace to George Mearns. 7. We, Joe Vocatura and John Drew, bequeath our scientific wizardy to Everett Larkin, who is plotting to ostracize science from his curriculum. 8. I, Lois Maines, bestow my brilliant, magnificent red hair in all its glory, together with my equal brilliance, and magnificence in studies, on Russell Brown, who should prove a worthy successor. 9. We, Rita Paldino and Phillie DeSimone, bequeath our deep, true, sincere, loyal, unaffected, unswerving, ardent, beautiful friendship to Winnie and Ruth Stenhouse, who, we feel, will cherish and keep their friendship as we have ours. 10. We, Alfred Berarducci, Patsy Gentile, and Sam Fusaro, will our positions as assistants to Mr. Paterson, to T. Ber-ardo of the Junior Class, who, we know, will be a famous business man some day. 11. I, Mary Carlson, leave my blonde locks and fair complexion to Mary Mor-rone, disproving the saying “Beautiful but Dumb.” 12. We, Dorothy Clark, Theresa Perra, and Anna Murano, bequeath our mouselike silence to those three noisy Sopho- mores, Dorothy Stopello, Ida Grills, and Frances Boyington. 13. I, George Trovato, will all my serious, solemn, earnest, thoughtful, important, weighty, ponderous, grave meditations to Wally Latham of the Sophomore Class. 14. I, Joe Pucci, bequeath the assurance of being a one-woman man to Ralph Spargo of the Junior Class. 15. We, Ginny Anderson and Dabby Dabrowski, leave our 5 o’clock date with Dick Tracy to Carolyn Browning and Miriam Anderson, in hope that they will be as quick in mind as they are with the trigger. 16. I, Betty Champlin, leave my petite, airy walk to Joe Mex” Mahfood of the Junior Class. 17. We, Ruth Whitford and Florence Tamer, will our writing ability to Miss Hanson to be kept in reserve for emergency cases when next year’s Seniors suffer a literary depression. 18. We, Frank James Sposato, Frank Paul Sposato, and Angelo James Sposato, bequeath our second names to the teachers of W. H. S. to that they can always keep us straight when they read of our great achievements in the world of tomorrow. 19. I, James Stretch Harvey, leave my versatility to Dave Parnigoni of the Junior Class. 20. I, Ernest Vetelino, bequeath my curly hair, lock by lock, to all my fair admirers in the high school. 21. I, Ray Smith, bequeath my red hair to anyone who, I feel, will like my shade rather than his own. 22. I, Joe Langworthy, bestow my skill on the baseball diamond upon Joe Capalbo, my protege. 23. I, Rita Alexander, bequeath my ability as an authoress to John Matarese with the hope that it will be useful in the publication of next year’s “Seniors.” 24. I, Josephine Santora, leave my love for argument to Ray Hindle of the Junior Class, trusting that he will not overburden Mr. Mudge with it. 25. I. Joe Bingley, leave my Camay complexion to the girls of the Junior Class. 26. I, Clifford Fusaro, bequeath my -4 n -