Woonsocket High School - Quiver Yearbook (Woonsocket, RI)

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18 THE QUIVER ALL ON ACCOUNT OF “TOMMIE.' It had been a dreary Fourth for little Paul heeler, dreary both indoors and out. He had heard nothing but the steady drip of the rain, its pattering against the windows, and the continual scoldings of his father and mother; but now that he had been sent to bed, it had stopped raining, and the moon was shining. Paul, standing at the window of his room, reviewed the events of the day. Everything had gone wrong, the weather being a great cause, for if it had not rained, there would have been the picnic, with ice-cream, cake, and sandwiches; and then his family, including Baby Torn, would never have been so peevish. The little cry-baby,” however, was most to blame. Paul had tried hard enough today to stop Baby’s selfishness, but when he had tried to teach his brother by punishing him, his parents had punished him, too. “Not a bit fair,’ was his pouting comment. Could he help it if Tom had jogged his elbow, and made him spill his cocoa? Was that any reason why he should be lectured? Was it nice of Tom to keep saying every few minutes, “It’s still rainin’, Paulie.” And just because he had pushed the kid.” when told by his mother to play with Tom, he was sent to his room. “They’ll be sorry some day,” said Paul. Then he thought of his brother’s selfishness at supper, for Tom knew Paul liked that particular kind of cup cake; and when he saw Paul start to take the last one in the dish, he had said, “Muvver, please can I have that cake?” And of course “the baby” had to have it. But Paul had kicked Tom under the table, and that was some satisfaction, even though he djd have to go to his room for it. And now here he was, away up in his dark, old room all alone, and Father was telling stories down stairs. He threw himself across his bed and cried as though his little heart would break. “I don’t care,” he sobbed, “I’m jus’ cryin’ ’cause I’m mad.” And he certainly did cry—great tears splashed off his cheeks upon the counterpane, and left little “salt marshes” there. Paul lay still for a few minutes after this “cloud-burst,” and soon began to have a peculiar feeling, as if he were moving. He must be insane, he decided, and if he were. Tom was to blame. But was it insanity? His bed was moving slowly. Paul sat up with a start and rubbed his eyes hard, and still harder, for he did not recognize his own room. He could see a sheet of water where his carpet had been, and his bed and chairs were drifting about. “I didn’t think I’d cried so much. ’Spose I drown in my own tears!” But he had no time now for such thoughts, for he saw that his

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THE QUIVER 17 would wait a minute, he would share the contents with them. Off came the outside wrapper, which he folded and put one side. Some tissue paper came next, was carefully folded, and placed with the other paper. By this time I could imagine the boys having visions of home-made cookies, or perhaps of some of his mother s cake with an inch of frosting adorning the top. It might be fudge. Who could tell just at that moment when things were coming so slowly? Finally a waxed paper was removed. All heads came together to view a box of animal crackers! It was plain to see that this sort of “baby food did not appeal to those lads, who did not hesitate strongly to express their disappointment and displeasure. The “ticket-girl’s” time was up. The door was closed, shutting off my view of the corridor. I turned to join my companion with a feeling that these boys did not suffer from indigestion, as eating in such a cheerful atmosphere is a sure preventive against any such ailment. EILEEN V. M. GLEESON, ’23. GLEANED FROM BOOK REVIEWS When a boy, his mother died. David went to his aunt’s house, who adopted l}im. When going to lunch, the clothes get stepped on. When eaten in the shade of a friendly oak tree, the troubles which we have in the world seem to vanish. Thoreau’s foot, during twenty-six months of residence at Walden Lake, cost him but twenty-seven cents a week. I did not enjoy the book as much as I would a book of friction. “Great Scott” was the hero and most appropriate adjective. Beaucaire pulled a card from the Englishman’s sleeve, who had been cheating.

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THE QUIVER ™ bed, with the other furniture, was drifting toward the window. If only the window sill would stop them! He did not dare jump, for there was no telling how deep the water was. Now there came a crash and a sudden plunge, and Paul found himself drifting across the lawn, through the meadow, following the brook, which was then so swollen by the day’s rain and Paul’s tears as to be scarcely recognizable. Of course it was night, and that made a difference. He could just see the ghostly appearance of the bank, but that did not help him, for he could not swim. It was growing darker, and he was drifting right into the thick forest which his daddy had said contained all sorts of wild animals. Paul crouched, with a groan, beneath his blankets, for he imagined a tiger was swimming out to devour him. After a while he poked his head out again and heard the water splashing against his iron bed with a faint s’sh, s’sh. He did not know what it was. but it was terribly creepy. Then a turtle jumped upon his bed with a thud, and a gust of wind came along at the same time, and drove Paul’s craft ashore. Another gust dashed it upon a rock, upset it. and scattered the fragments of the little bed about Paul as he lay unconscious on the shore. Day had come. Paul knew enough to know that. He also knew that someone was holding his bruised head, and whispering soothing words in his ear. The voice sounded like his mother’s. But how could she be there with him so far away from home? Yes. it was his “mommy,” and he was lying on the floor of his OWn room, with his head in her lap. Beside him were his blankets, and on the side of the wall was a little glowing lamp, which he had thought was daybreak. Paul lifted his head a little and made just one remark: “Guess I’ll let Tom grow up naughty if he wants to.” DOROTHY HENDRICK. ’21. Found in a Commercial Geography test: “Mt. Thomas is in Massachusetts.” First Pupil: “Did you put the lemon juice in the potatoes?” Second: “Why?” First: “For garnishing, of course.” Speaking of the French play, how is it that the devil was seen with the princess after the performance, whereas, during the play, a statement had been made that she was his “pire ennemi?”