Woonsocket High School - Quiver Yearbook (Woonsocket, RI)

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THE QUIVER AN EVENTFUL DAY 21 About eight years ago, a pageant was to be held in the city of Chester, England, which was twelve miles from the village where 1 lived. This pageant had been the subject of conversation by the public for over a year. Everybody was anxious to see it as it was the first of its kind in the city. It was to show the whole history of England from the first landing of the Romans up to the present time. It was on a beautiful spring morning, when everybody seemed happy and contented, that we started to see the pageant. Our drive around Eaton Hall and through the estate, was over five miles long. The scenery was wonderful. Green grass was everywhere, and the deer were so tame that we could put our hands out and almost touch them as we drove by. Along one side runs the River Dee. We had to pass over an old iron bridge, which, it is claimed, was built by the Romans. We had to drive very slowly over this bridge as it was unsafe. We reached Chester about one o’clock. The performance was to begin at two, and so we had an hour to wait; but it took us almost the whole hour to get seated. The stage was just a large field. Over to our left was another field, where the performers waited their turns to The first scene was the landing of the Romans in 54 B. C. The little children ran in front of the horses, shouting, “Help! the Christians are coming.” The contrast between their landing and their departure was so well brought out that I shall never forget it. The Piets and Scots were next shown invading Britain, and the Britons sent word over to the Angles and Saxons to come to help them They succeeded in driving away the Britons’ enemy. This done, they then drove the Britons themselves to the mountains and took possession of the land. A scene that brought tears to the eyes was the market place where the slaves were sold. The children looked lovely, just like dolls. One old man entered the market and looked round. He saw the children and went over and asked who they were. They replied. “Angles. He said, “Not Angles, but Angels.” These scenes were the ones I remember best. Although the pageant lasted until six o’clock. I enjoyed every minute of the four hours and was sorry when the end came. RENA DUTTON. 21.

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20 THE QUIVER OLIVER HAZARD PERRY’S BIRTHPLACE South Kingstown, although a little town, likes to boast of the fact that the great admiral and hero of the battle of Lake Erie, Oliver Hazard Perry, was a native of that place. His birthplace still stands in South Kingstown, a spot of historic interest to the traveler. From the roadside, you get a glimpse of the tall, red chimney,and one side of the slated roof, for a high stone wall, covered with tendrils of ivy and wild growth, such as barberry and woodbine, hides the rest of the little homestead from view. The house is some distance from the roadside, and the traveler enters by a large, creaking, iron gate, very much rusted, and in need of repair. A long stretch of sandy road, shaded by tall, straight poplars, leads up to the house. It is a two story wooden structure with a large veranda in front, which has a profusion of trumpet vines running over it. The old home is built upon a hill overlooking a salt pond. A huge, old-fashioned well, sadly in need of paint, stands in the back yard. A high stone wall, overrun with sumac and blackberry vines, separates the yard from a large pasture. This is a favorite retreat for wild rabbits and chipmunks, which burrow their homes beneath it. A large, neglected apple orchard stands in the distance, while scores of huckleberry bushes are seen here and there. If the traveler enters the house, he finds himself in a large, airy room facing the east. This must have been the Perrys’ kitchen. A huge brick fireplace, with a zinc hearth, is built into one end of the room. Beneath two large cupboards is an old-fashioned iron pump. The living room is as comfortable as the kitchen except that it is.not so light, for the large trumpet vines have entwined themselves around the bay windows. This room also has a brick fire-place, and the walls are painted a pale green. A narrow staircase leads to the second floor. There are four well lighted, but low studded rooms—so low, in fact, that if the traveler is tall, he has to take extreme precaution for fear of bumping his head. This is a memory picture of Oliver Hazard Perry’s birthplace, a modest little homestead, yet a place of remarkable historic interest. DOROTHY BROWNING. ’21. L. Warner: “Should you say a satting hen?” Engelbach : “I take manual straining.” H. Ford: “Four lines rhyming are a quadruped.”

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22 THE QUIVER YOU’VE GOT TO WIN in your next track-meet, and I will give you the position as head coach of track at X-College,” said “Scout” Watson, closing the door behind him as he departed. Jim Benton, coach of Brockton High, stared at the wall of the :oom for a long time. Brockton High had entered a Triangular Meet with Millvale and Rockland. Brockton and Rockland were tied for first place. A great deal depended upon this meet, for, if Brockton won. Jim Benton would receive his promotion. The score was now as follows: Brockton, 20 points; Rockland, 20 points; Millvale, 5 points. Everything depended upon the six hundred yard run, the remaining event. As the track was very narrow, each runner must run alone, and the runner having the best time would be the winner. The first runner of Rockland approached the starting point, knelt on the mark, and, on the report of the starter’s pistol, got a quick start. Lap after lap he ran, cheered on by his followers, until only one lap remained. This he covered in a burst of speed. Time, 1 minute, 29 seconds. Next a Millvale runner ran. then a Brockton, then a Rockland, and so on until only Jones of Brockton High remained. As yet. no one had beaten the first runner’s time. Jones approached the starting point with the coach’s last words ringing in his ear. “You’ve got to win!” At the crack of the pistol, lie was off like a shot, running with long, even strides. Finishing his first lap, he listened intently for the counter to speak. No sound from the counter! At the finishing of the second lap, the counter seemed to come to life and say. “One.” Could he have heard aright? Did the counter say one or two? Was there a mistake? These thoughts passed rapidly through Jones’ head as he covered the third lap. Well, he couldn’t be bothered counting the laps, so he determined to leave the counting to the counter and pay attention to his race. His breath came quickly now! The spectators became blurred! The muscles in his legs and arms ached! His head swam! Still he kept on. increasing his speed occasionally. Someone shouted, “two more.” With a last despairing burst of speed, he covered the remaining laps and stumbled into the coach’s arms in a dead faint. When he opened his eyes, the first question he asked was, “Did I win?” Slowly the coach shook his head and replied. “No!”