Woonsocket High School - Quiver Yearbook (Woonsocket, RI)

Page 32 text:

34 THE QUIVER THE HELPMEET Recently I have lx en reading alxmt my ancestors. An interesting one was Samuel Moselv, a happy-go-lucky fellow and very prosperous. When it entered his odd head that a helpmeet would l e in order, he applied to a farmer in the neighboring town for the hand of one of his daughters. “W hat!” said the old gentleman. “You want a wife? W hat on earth would you do with one?” “Why,” returned the young man. straightening to his full six feet. “1 can almost support myself, and it is a mighty ]xx r woman who couldn’t help a little.” The daughter lxvame Mrs. Samuel. A few years later, after her husband's death, a friend suggested that she procure a stone for his grave. She replied. “Wal. now. I reckon if the Lord wants him in the day of judgment, lie can find him without a guideboard. When the old lady came to her death lied. she was visited by the minister. who, after other questions, asked her if she had made her peace with God. She looked astonished. “I don’t remember as the Lord and I ever had any difficulty.” she said. Doris Pease. '27. WHISKERS My great weakness, so 1 have been told, is my passion for dogs—dogs and more dogs. Ever since 1 was big enough to desire } ets, 1 longed for a dog. hut Fate decreed otherwise. Mother had all she could do to bring up five active children, without taking upon herself the training of a pup. She gave us rabbits to care for, hut they never could quite fill the place that 1 had in my heart for dogs. Consequently, whenever I met a friendly-looking dog on the street. 1 would pat him and coax him to follow me. Poor Mother! What a trial 1 was to her! She never knew, when she gazed out of the window, whether she would see me walking with a beautiful collie, or strolling along with an ugly mongrel of the streets; leading a good-natured dog, or being pursued by a too-ardent canine friend. Somehow, she always seemed to lx waiting for me to outgrow this passion, but. I am sorry to say. she is still waiting. ()n this particular day. as I was making my way home from school, I was thinking of a dog alxmt which I had just been reading. Suddenly. I noticed one coming toward me with a woe-l egone air. I remembered Mother’s advice about picking up acquaintances with strangers whom I met on the street. Hut.'' I thought, “she would not mind my speaking to this poor dog. because he is so sad. and. apparently, lost, or in trouble of some kind.'' With this reasoning of my mind, which exactly coincided with the dictates of my heart. I called softlv to the little dog. coaxing him in gentle

Page 31 text:

THE QUIVER 33 The first few clays, Jerry and Sally were l usy getting acquainted with their new home. However, one day soon after the newness and the grass began to wear away, they l)ored their way out and hopped alxjut the yard. We put them back and filled up as much of the hole as we could. That night, after everyone had gone to sleep, 1 heard a dog running and barking in the yard. I shivered, for I knew what was happening. I jumped out of bed, put on my shoes, and went to wake the three hoys. After putting their shoes on, the lwys went downstairs and out of doors. I followed them. Dad was already out there. The night was very dark and damp. The five of us, with solemn faces and shivering bodies, marched about the yard in search of the missing rabbits. Suddenly, Elton shouted, “Quick! The rabbits are under the porch! We ran to the porch. Just as I was crawling under, something whizzed by me. and I felt the soft fur of a rabbit and the sleek coat of a dog brush against my cheek. When 1 got to my feet, Dad told me to go in. and I knew from the tone of his voice that he had found both rabbits—dead. The boys sent home the murderer, the neighbor’s dog. howling almost as loudly as 1 was. It was raining. The funeral was over. I sat in the attic listening to the pitter-j atter of the rain drops on the roof, and fell asleep thinking it was the pitter-patter of the hopping feet of pink-eyed' Salacia and Nigger Jeremiah. Adeline Burgess, '17, GLORIOUS MORNING! Wake! ’Tis morning! Feel it breathing! Sending fragrance fresh and sweet From the wood glens. From the gardens. Casting glories at your feet. Hark! Tis morning! Birds are calling. As they flit from tree to tree, “Bright good-morning! “Bright good-morning! They are happy! They are free! See! ’Tis morning! Glorious longing Glorious longing Just to grasp one glitt’ring beam, As it dances. As it prances, ()’er the hillside, down the stream. Adeline Burgess, '27.

Page 33 text:

THE QlJIVER tones to come to me. Not hesitating in the least, lie came with one bound, and showered me with kisses. Poor dog! He had lieen so lonely, waiting tor some jicrson to come along and speak to him. Then 1 proceeded to examine this black and tan bundle, throbbing with life, which had sat down and was now gazing at me. He was half Airdalc; hut. mongrel though he was in breed, he was every inch a thoroughbred in his loyal heart. His jjointed ears, that were pricked up in a listening attitude, gave him a saucy air. With his shaggy head cocked on one side, his ears pricked up, his warm, twinkling, brown eyes fixed steadily on me, he had the inquisitive air that seemed to say, “Do you really think you are fooling me t ” His chin had ringlets of curly tan hair that came to a point. If he had been more dignified-looking, he would have resembled an English nobleman with a Vandyke lieard. He appeared to be wearing a black topcoat that only partly concealed his ragged tan suit. His front legs were brown, while his hind legs were black. His tail, a sweeping black plume, was the pride of his heart. His chin, though, with its Vandyke l eard, had at once caught my glance, and now gave me the inspiration to call him Whiskers. I bis new friend responded at once to my call of Whiskers. He trotted happily along at my side for a few paces, then pranced gayly l efore me. His actions were those of a small hoy showing oft to an admiring little girl. When we reached home, he was not the least bashful about coming upon the porch. There we were welcomed by a chorused “What next!” As he had with me, Whiskers won the hearts of my brothers and sisters, not to mention my mother. Even she fell under his charms. She declared that he was a model dog, and not only let him remain, but gave him a bone. Needless to say, he was in no hurry to leave us. I f we can believe the rejxirt of a certain neighl or, he did not leave until after midnight. At any rate, when he did depart, it was not for long. The next day, at about the same time, he met me again at the top of the hill. Soon it became a daily occurrence. Then, when we did reach home, Whiskers entered heartily into all our games. He ran away with the ball when we played baseltall, gave away our niding places when we played hide-and-seek. and made a general good fellow of himself. Thus things continued to go along smoothly until W hiskers took to following me to school. 1 reasoned with him. but lie refused to lie convinced that school was no place for him. When 1 drove him back home, he would crouch and l eg appealingly. Then, when my back was turned, he would advance cautiously. If 1 turned to ascertain whether he had olieyed, he would hide behind a telegraph pole. How exasperated he made me, but yet 1 had to laugh at his slyness! He was so wise in the ways of men that he conspired with other pupils to get them to allow him to enter the building that had swallowed me up a few minutes l efore. 1 hen he would settle himself comfortably before my locker. When 1 came down for my lunch, I was greeted affectionately, for he thought that I had forgotten and. conse-qucntlv. forgiven. Bin not 1 ! Home he went as fast as 1 could make him!