Skip to main content

Full text of "Goldenrod"

See other formats




"^, ■>, 

Uanuary 193 

THq Mas no i 

(gnlnrn Soil s ^' 

Qiratrg, fWaHBartjitHettB 


lEttergho&g Shsu* 

(&albm Soh §iatT - 193B 

Co-Editors Harold Bertrand 

Lester Sprague 

Literary Barbara Merrill 

News Lester Sprague 

Sports Robert Osborne, '40 

Clare Ward 

Alumni Ethel Marder 

Exchange Virginia Swanson 

Humor John Bates 

Art Eleanor Hogg 

Clifford Dyson 

Junior Class Representative Betty Wylie 

Sophomore Class Representative Ernest Diamond 


Margaret Marr Marie Poland Joy Nevens 

Catherine Walsh Leslie Millard 

Ada Di Bona Evelyn Smith 

Business Manager Irving Sibert 

Circulation Managers Attilio Franceschini 

Edward Battista 

Assistant Circulation Manager Eleanor Smith 


Advertising Manager John Laukkanen 

Ernest Bertrand 


Madeline Cislaghi Helen Gustafson 

Doris Dwyer Pauline Principe 

Esther Pearlin Henry Dell 

Bernice Cutler Aune Laukkanen 

Published Twice a Year Twenty-Five Cents Vol. XLXII, Number 1 



(Best Senior Story) 


(An Interview With Heather 


(An Essay) 


(Best Junior Story) 


(Book Reviews) 




(A Story) 


(Best Sophomore Story) 




Ert'a full otogeitjer 

Editorial— HAROLD BERTRAND, '38 

• Striving to win the semi-annual race, the Golden Rod is being valiantly 
rowed by the staff towards its goal — success. In the stern is the editor, coaxing 
along the crew, setting the pace, and heading the vessel straight down the 
course. On the banks are the Faculty Advisers, hoping that their coaching 
will help the Golden Rod cross the finish line triumphantly. Of course, this 
race is no new thing. Since 1881 many crafts like the one now seen have 
borne the Golden Rod to victory. 

But how was the Golden Rod built? Have you noticed the cheering 
crowd, rooting for the Golden Rod? Have you noticed the people on the 
sides of the course who contributed so that their vessel could be built from 
nothing? You are that crowd, two thousand of you and more. Do you 
feel that what you have provided has made your literary vessel able to ride 
the wave of disaster, has made it safe so that no matter how rough the going 
may be, the Failure will always be out of sight behind it ? 

It may interest you to know that out of the two thousand persons on the 
sidelines, only twenty-three tried to become members of the Staff; twenty- 
three tried to become part of the crew. That brings to our minds a question 
that is more important. Are you and the crew working together ? A worthy 
boat and a shiftless crew cannot make a winner; neither can a leaky boat, 
built from faulty materials, and a strong crew. To win this and any other 
race, both the boat and the crew should be strong; the cheering sections 
should be there to urge on the crew; the coaches should be well-informed. 
Each is indispensable; your support and contributions to the Golden Rod 
cannot be done without. 

The glory of being a winner is not the primary object of this struggle 
toward Success. Each semester a new Golden Rod is built, launched, and 
raced. The Golden Rod is, in fact, an institution. The winnings of this 
contest will go toward the building of a bigger and better Golden Rod that 
will be launched in 1938 and will be raced in June of that year. You must 
contribute and again contribute. You must support each Golden Rod as 
much as you are able. Work with us, the crew, so that no matter what the 
race, the Golden Rod will come home being rowed by a happy crew, supported 
by a hearty crowd, and always and always the victor in every race to be 

But let us dispense with the above figure of speech. We shall end by 
saying that this issue of the Golden Rod contains only what you, the school, 
have wanted it to contain. Everything you may find here is representative 
of you, and we heartily hope that you like you in this issue. 


• Five 

After Stutter 

Dishes! Soapy, sudsy dishes, 
In a bright array — 
Tiny bubbles clinging fast, 
Hiding colors gay. 

How I glory in your sparkle, 
Luster ware in rows! 
Sandwich glass and Dresden china 
Hobnobbing with Stowe's. 

Now to polish even brighter 
Till the last is done, 
O you precious dishes, I could 
Smash you, every one! 

Joyce Thompson, '38 


Bit 3ft (&$?& 

Best Senior Story— M. JANE MILKS 

* The sun is brightly shining on a small, 
peaceful farm in South Dakota. Summer 
is just awakening. A young farm wife sits 
on her back porch, thoughtfully mending 
some overalls for her youngest child, Irving, 
who is crawling about on the soft grass. 
The other three boys are out fishing in the 
Missouri River, which borders their farm 
on the south. 

Mattie was always regretful that one 
of her children had not been a girl, for she 
did so want to give her daughter many of 
the pleasures that had been omitted from 
her own miserable life. She was determined 
that, if there should be a daughter, she would 
not live the life her mother had. That was 
all right for a boy, but girls were "diff'rent." 

As she sat at her sewing, her mind wandered back to a miserable farm 
on a long strip of extremely fertile land projecting out into the river — the 
Missouri flats. Floods were an ever present danger and her family abandoned 
their home many times when the river rose — thus the cheapness of the land 
and the reason why only the poor farmers, like her father, took refuge there. 

The family, consisting of a frump of a mother, old far before her time, 
a rough, ill-mannered father, four baby brothers, and Mattie herself, huddled 
around a large, roughly hand-hewn table. The father was speaking with a 
stern, loud voice trying to be heard above the bawling of the youngest child 
and the slushing noise of the other children sipping a Western stew known 
as "Mulligan." 

"Mattie," he hollered gruffly, "You gotta quit school and stay at home 
and help your paw with the plantin'." 

"Aw, Pa! I da wanna," answered his daughter. "I'll have ta miss school 
if I do and I only just got started in the second grade." 

"Well, what of it?" answered her father angrily. "You ain't got no place 
in school, no how. That place is only for them's got money." 

"But gee, Pa! I'm just getting along good and I wanna go to school and 
make sumpin' of m'self. I don't wanna be like Ma!" 

"Make sumpin' of yourself! Ha! ain't you the high falootin' one. An' 
what's the matter with yore Ma?" 

"What's the matter with 'er? She's tir'd and wasted and old long 
before her time slavin' away on this here farm. I da wanna be a farmer's 
wife! I wanna get edjikated and be a lady and maybe marry an Easterner." 

• Seven 

"Stop that sassy gabbering. Yo'r the oldest kid on this here farm and 
big enough and strong enough to help with the work, and that's what I'm 
aimin' for ya ta do. So shut yore mouth and eat yer 'raters." 

Mattie was only nine then, but strongly built and very tall for her age. 
She had attended school for fourteen months and was now in the second 
grade. She was just grasping the mystery of reading words without even 
stopping to sound them, and was very happy when she accomplished the task 
of dividing with less hesitancy than the other three children in her grade. The 
schoolmaster begged the father to let the girl continue, for she undoubtedly 
had talent, but the only answer the father gave was, "Her Ma didn't have no 
schoolin' and nither did I." 

So, in spite of the schoolmaster's earnest pleadings, Mattie was forced to 
discontinue her studies in the little wooden schoolhouse she loved so well. 

The work increased and more children were added to the already crowded 
home. Meanwhile, Mattie had very little opportunity to further her education, 
but, determined not to lose what little knowledge she had, she would sit alone 
in a dimly lighted attic re-reading time and time again until she knew perfectly 
every letter and every word in her precious little "Second Year Reader" she 
had so carefully hidden from her father's search. Once in a while she came 
upon a newspaper, and would recline in some corner pretending to look at the 
pictures, when in reality, she was struggling with the difficult words trying to 
pronounce and understand them. She would be ready when her opportunity 
came to live in the East. 

Thus, Mattie reached sixteen and started to go around with girls her own 
age. There were shows, dances, plays, club affairs, and so forth, visited by 
Mattie in an endeavor to feed her lonesome soul by social contacts. Her two 
oldest brothers were now eleven and nine and more help than she. Her father 
began looking for suitors so that he could marry her off. Poor Mattie was 
worried. She didn't want to marry a farmer. 

One day an excited friend came to see her and tell her of the invitation 
she got for the both of them to attend a dance to be held in Sioux City, Iowa, 
the following evening. 

"There will be some Eastern sailors there," she excitedly related. "They 
are on their furlough and with a fellow who is visiting his mother in Sioux 
City. They'll all be at the dance. Gosh, I'm thrilled!" 

Mattie's heart beat wildly. Easterners! Oh! "I'll go," she whispered. 
"Right after I wash the dishes I'll bundle my clothes up and make believe 
I'm takin' them to yore house to mend on yore sewing machine, so Pa won't 
get 'spicious and make me stay in. Then I'll get dressed at your place." 

The scheme was acceptable to both girls, so they parted. 

After five hours of driving over dusty roads, the seventy-five miles to the 
dance was covered and the nervously excited girls, none the worse for their 
hard journey, were helped from the team by their escorts at eight-thirty in the 

• Eight 

Gayety was in the air and Mattie declared that she had never had such 
a lovely time. Best of all, John Conlon, one of the sailors, danced practically 
all night with her and begged to see her again before he returned to the East. 
And so he did ; not once but five times, and that last time, the evening before 
he was to return to the East and the Navy, he asked her to wait for him. 

Seven long, anxious months passed by. Then one day she found one 
forlorn letter in the mailbox announcing that he expected to be there within 
a week as his service in the Navy was ended and he was already preparing 
to leave for the Middle West. Oh such joy! Now she was going to realize 
her dream and marry an Easterner. She could visualize a lovely little home 
in the city — maybe New York or even Boston. 

She could look back now and see all that. A tear left her eye and glistened 
on her cheek. That Easterner whom she married bought a farm two hundred 
miles from her birthplace and had lived there ever since ! 


* Spinach is a food valued chiefly for its entirely imaginary health- 
sustaining properties. Although probably not qualified to designate myself as 
a spinach expert, I have nevertheless had much experience with it, and so feel 
justified in expressing my views on the subject. 

To the best of my knowledge, spinach is produced commercially in huge 
bales, several tons in weight, which are made heavier, and consequently more 
valuable, by the addition of large quantities of fine sand. These bales are sold 
by quarters (nothing smaller) to mothers who, in spite of this, are generally 
kind-hearted and nice to all dumb animals. Their children, however, must 
have vitamins, calories, roughage, and all the other marvels which science has 
invented for the good of the timid consumer. 

So-called substitutes for this wonderful panacea have been advanced by 
mundane business men who claim that "they're just as good for you." Don't 
let them deceive you; broccoli, beet greens, and dandelions are all spinach in 
different forms! The price is different, the name is different, they may not 
even look alike, but the principle is just the same. 

Only within the last generation has America become spinach conscious. 
Our forefathers heard no praise of it as a succulent vegetable that would make 
another Atlas of one. To them it was merely another blob on the plate before 
them, to be eaten and endured. 

Those rash persons who have so insistently maintained that the human 
race is going to the dogs must surely revise their opinions when they realize 
that the trend is really toward the spinach. 

• Nine 

§tar~ Grazing 

An Interview with Heather Angel 

*"Will you please sign my autograph book, Miss Angel?" . . . "Mine 
too, please?" Such cries as those were floating around our heroine's dainty 
head as we jostled through the crowd in the modernistic lounge of the Wilbur 
Theatre. Seeing an opening, we ducked through, and there we were at last — 
face to face with that twinkling star of the cinema — Miss Heather Angel. 
In less time than it takes to become an Angel fan (which is saying a lot!) 
we were chatting intimately with this shining figure in the Hollywood con- 
stellations, now starring in the play, "Love of Women." 

For the benefit of the feminine readers! . . . she wore a smart black 
caracul coat over a simple black dress, and an attractive veiled toque. Her 
sophisticated clothes only served to accentuate the demure sweetness of her 
face, and we were pleasantly surprised to find that she was just as lovely to 
see in person as to watch on the screen. 

She told us that as a child in England she had had a great desire to act, 
and had started her career in the Old Vic, that famous little playhouse which 
trains potential stage material in the great classics of Shakespeare. She toured 
England, India, and the Far East in various plays, but finally succumbed to 
the lure of Hollywood. She has made several pictures, her most outstanding 
role being in "Berkeley Square." Among her other films are "The Three 
Musketeers," "Pilgrimage," and "The Informer," and her latest is "Portia on 
Trial." After the Boston engagement of "Love of Women", the company 
will go to Toronto. Miss Angel stated that, after this tour is completed, she 
plans to resume her career as a movie star. 

Now for Heather Angel as a person. She is charming, both to see and 
to talk with. In fact, she was so cordial that before long she was interviewing 
the interviewers! ! She has a most engaging voice, gentle and low-pitched, 
with a slight suggestion of an English accent to lend color to her speech. She 
is small in stature with beautiful, expressive eyes and light-brown hair, and 
we particularly noticed the delightful smile which lighted up her delicately- 
chiseled features as she talked. 

By the way, you may be interested to know that her romantic name is 
her own and not one conceived by an over-ambitious press agent. 

She has found Boston, on her first visit here, to be a very fascinating 
city, not only because it resembles London more than any other American city 
but also because its people are so gracious and friendly. 

We asked her what advice she would give to young aspirants to an acting 
career, and she replied, "Of course, you must realize it is a very hard life; 
but if you have the ability and the determination to succeed and you do manage 
to become comparatively famous, then the rewards you reap are certainly 
worth the effort expended to obtain them." 

We reluctantly brought to a close our enjoyable talk with this celebrated 
actress. She expressed her best wishes for the future success of Golden Rod, 
and we departed feeling quite elated that we had had the opportunity to 
spend so delightful a few moments with Heather Angel. 


3(ual Hair 


* Curls, curls, curls. The agonies en- 
dured by girls for those lovely golden locks 
are almost indescribable in all their stages. 
Boys, for the benefit of those of your number 
who admire our curls, I should like to relate 
to you a few of the harrowing experiences 
which lead us from the state of the straight- 
haired girls to the "we" of today who now 
proudly display a headful of curls, a wave 
or two, a mass of kinky hair, or what have 

"When I was a child, I spake as a child, 
I thought as a child — " and I wore pigtails. 
Beautiful round ones extending half way 
down my back. Of course their location 
changed when I reached the adult age of 
fourteen, for then they appeared as a coronet 
framing my face in a most queenly fashion. Soon, however, the height of 
style dictated otherwise, so I was shorn and felt quite light-headed with my hair 
reaching only to my shoulders. The fun, though, had only begun. How 
trying those first six months were! First I experimented with steel curlers, 
denting my sensitive head, then a roll or two, next, finger waves, marcels, 
nice hot curling irons, my fingers, or anything else that was in my reach or 
that of rny pocketbook's. The usual run of conversation was, "I don't know 
what to do." "My hair is always a mess." "My trouble is that I can never 
remember how I do my hair from one day to the next." "How do you like it 
this way?" But alas and alack, no solution presented itself. And girls were 
forever lending bobby pins for those ends that would not behave. 

Our distress was almost unbearable when behold, science came to the 
rescue in the form of a permanent wave. "Eureka!" or as the ads would say 
it, "I never knew how beautiful I could be until I tried ." I got a per- 
manent wave. Not that simply, though. First, I washed dishes and took care 
of neighbors' dear little children and stinted and saved until my bankbook 
showed a savings of seven dollars and my scales a loss of five pounds. The 
latter was probably due to the fact that very little candy and ice cream was 
consumed during this period. 

An appointment was secured, and on the chosen day I presented myself 
to the modern magician, the hairdresser. After much preliminary discussion 
as to whether I should have a spiral or a croquignole, whether the machine- 
less would bring out my natural allure or not, and various other technicalities, 
I made the momentous decision — a croquignole — and was ushered to a chair. 
The hairdresser searched my hair for dandruff, — etc. This was followed by 

• Eleven 

an invigorating scalp treatment. (Had my hair washed, in other words). 
It was dried via the hot air drier. While under this form of torture, I read 
numerous and sundry articles of theatrical interest. Aha! "Robert Taylor 
and Barbara Stanwyck are just like that!" "Will Sonya Henie and Tyrone 
Power combine forces soon?" It occurred to me that I was certainly behind 
the times. The last movie magazine I had seen had been about Clara Bow and 
her latest flame. Let's see, "The latest Hollywood gossip says that Gene 
Raymond — ". Oh rats!" 

"Step this way, please." 

Snap ! Crackle ! Pop ! Thus spake my hair as the operator yanked out the 
knots. While recovering from this shock, I was nearly suffocated by the most 
deadly of smells. Ammonia? Why had I ever willingly consented to such 
treatment? My hair would surely turn to straw. 

But the worst was yet to come. Twenty heavy steel clamps were fastened 
to my hair and then rolled tightly against my head. When they were all in 
position, I felt as though I had been transported to some country where it was 
the custom to carry the family washing on one's head. I was top heavy, and 
sure that if I should make one false move, the perfect balance would be lost, 
my neck crack, and my head and all go tumbling to the floor. 

Thus I was attached to the electrical machine. And as I thought of all 
that had preceded I should not have been at all surprised had I been electro- 
cuted. I needed no electric chair; my imagination supplied it and all the rest 
of the details. 

Then again, suppose, oh horrors! suppose the operator forgot to turn off 
the current in time? Remember that movie where the hairdresser removed 
the clamps and chunks of hair? How would I look in a wig? One minute, 
three minutes, five minutes — oh dear, oh, dear. 

But all my fears were ill-founded for to my joy, when the machine was 
disconnected and the curlers removed, I still retained my hair, and though I 
could hardly feel it, my head was in position. 

Another wash, an application of greenish gooey goo, a "set" and believe 
it or not, the drier again. My back ached, my eyes watered, my cheeks burned 
and my feet itched. But I emerged victorious. My hair was combed and as 
I looked admiringly at my reflection in the mirror, and saw beautiful waves 
and curls crowning my head, with what strength was left me I smiled and 
murmured, "What price beauty?" 


• Twelve 

A Ntgljt (§f BUvb 

Best Junior Story— HELEN KONDELIN 

* He stood at the window, a tall man, 
dark haired, tanned and young, but with a 
look of strength and determination that per- 
haps belied his years. 

He gazed on the surrounding country- 
side which was quietly falling asleep. In 
the vast dome of the sky glimmered a soli- 
tary star. Ere long the heavens would be 
covered with a silvery cobweb. Farther 
north, however, night was being welcomed 
by the roar of cannon and noise of battle. 
Civil War had made America a land of 
strife and discord. 

"What in the world is keeping him?" 
muttered Gerald Manning as he scanned the 
fields and darkening woods. A worried 
look spread over his features. The grand- 
father clock downstairs chimed nine. With a backward glance, he quietly 
left the room. 

The reception hall was ablaze with light and the brilliant colors of the 
women's dresses. The celebration tonight was an unusual one. For months 
on end no festivity had taken place in the neighborhood, but with the news 
of success at Harper's Ferry and Antietam, spirits had rallied and pent up 
emotions gave way to gayety. 

People smiled and beckoned to him as he passed, but he dismissed them 
all with courteous bows and hurried along in his search for Marcia Longley. 
At last he saw her in the midst of a group of young people. It was her 
twenty-first birthday and he had never seen her more beautiful than she was 
tonight. Her dark tresses were piled high on her head and the blue satin 
sheen of her dress brought out the fairness of her skin and accentuated the 
depth of her eyes. 

She saw him before he reached her, and leaving the group, she ran to 
him smiling. "I thought you were never coming. Isn't the party lovely? 
It's glorious to have the home company back even for a few days. It seems 
so good to see my old friends. Have you got acquainted with many ? They may 
have comrades from Louisiana who know you." 

Manning artfully evaded the subject for he doubted very much if anyone 
from Louisiana knew him. They wended their way among the dancers. 
"Have you seen him?" continued Marcia. 

"Seen whom?" asked Gerald. 

"Why everyone is talking of it. There is a rumor that a spy is in our 

• Thirteen 

His grasp tightened ever so slightly on her arm. Did she know? Had 
he imagined that a shadow had passed over her face? 

Just then a laughing couple descended upon them and they changed 

"It sure is grand to have some excitement around here," chirped his 
little companion. "It does a person good to see a group of men who can 
dance. I wonder if they'll catch that spy. I can't for the life of me think 
who he is! Can you?" 

Gladly Gerald gave up his talkative partner to an admiring swain. 
Turning toward the dining room he saw a gathering of men around the 
punchbowl. Snatches of conversation could be heard: "It will be the gallows, 
I'm afraid." . . . "but are they sure?" . . . "Serves him right" . . . and they 
moved away leaving Manning with the appalling thought: . . . Did they 
suspect him ? 

Gerald was awaiting a message from one of his fellow comrades, but 
thus far he hadn't heard the baying of a hound, which was their customary 
manner of signaling each other. Why hadn't Dave given him the word? 
Surely things were ready now ! He'd have to go on alone for he couldn't wait 
much longer. Evidently all roads were being guarded. Guarded or not, 
tonight he must get away. Tomorrow would perhaps be too late. 

He reentered the reception room. Already many of the guests were 
leaving. Marcia and her father were at the door bidding them goodbye. 
She beckoned to him. 

"Where have you been? I've been wondering if you would like to go 
for a canter tomorrow morning, — say around five-thirty." 

Gerald nodded a mute assent realizing that it would never be. 

Before the last guest had gone, he went to his room, feeling that if he 
saw Marcia alone she would surely find out. No one, not even she, must 
know of his mission. 

Finally, everyone had gone and the house lay dark and still. Picking 
up his cloak and some letters, he softly opened the door and as quietly closed 
it after him. Thank heavens the floors and stair-case were so heavily carpeted. 
At the foot of the stairs he stopped and turned toward the reception hall. 
Just one more look at the room where so many happy moments had been 
spent. The moonlight flooded the room and outlined his figure in the doorway. 
A rustle of satin rose from the window-seat. 

"Who is it?" asked Marcia. 

He strode across the room and clasped her in his arms. He felt a sob 
shudder through her body. After a moment she said, "You are going now, 

"I must, dearest! Don't hate me too much!" 

"I'll be waiting for you always. Some day when the war is over — " 

• Fourteen 

"Would that you could go with me, Marcia." 

"You know that I can't, Gerald. I love my people as you do yours." 

For a moment he was undetermined whether he should tell her of his 
plans, but decided against it although he realized now that she had guessed 
but half the truth. 

"Now you must go quickly," Marcia was saying. "A saddled horse is 
waiting for you in the stable. Your absence will not be discovered immedi- 
ately in the morning for father thinks that we are going riding." 

Not trusting his voice, he kissed her. 

"The war can't last forever, darling," she murmured brokenly. 

He hurried through the entryway into the stable. Leading the horse 
out into the night, he mounted and was soon galloping through the moonlit 
woods. Manning's thoughts were in a tumult. Evidently something had 
happened to Dave. But what — . All around him the world was bathed 
in inky silence except for the thud of his horse's hoofs and the snapping of 
twigs. High in the heavens above, the stars winked and blinked and raced 
along with this solitary rider. 

Suddenly Gerald reined his horse to a halt. Just ahead of him lay a 
stretch of open road. It was here that capture was most probable. Spurring 
his horse and with pulses throbbing he thundered down this path, which 
had been beaten smooth by marching feet. 

A shot pierced the air. Another and another rang out. His horse 
reared at the sound and Manning was thrown. He tried to rise but such a 
pain shot through his leg that he sank to the earth again. 

Men were shouting and trampling in the woods. Presently they came 
upon him. One, evidently in charge, came over to him, brandishing his sword. 

"Thought you could get away with it, you damned Yankee spy! Well, 
by thunder, you didn't! We found Dave Sawyer's body in the brush and as 
sure as I stand here, you'll hang for the deed. That you will." 

Dave dead! Numbly Manning realized that his worst fears had come 
true. Not only had his friend been killed by, presumably the Northern spy 
who was rumored to have been around, but now that same spy was speeding 
north to deliver the message that would bring death to thousands. As in a 
dream he spoke to his captors. 

"Gentlemen, you accuse me of being a spy. Well, you are right, partly. 
I am a spy, but for the South, the same cause that you fight for. Here are 
my credentials and some letters signed by Lee. The damned Yankee is 
probably miles to the north by now carrying the death warrant of many of our 
comrades. May God in heaven delay him!'.' 

It was a night of stars. Stars falling softly and quietly on one who had 
done all he could ever do for his country. Stars racing along with another 
who had at least one more mission to fulfill. 

• Fifteen 


*"People, People, Everywhere!" is a collection of stories of a newspaper 
man's wanderings in many parts of the world, taken from "Bob Davis Reveals," 
his editorial column in the "New York Sun." In the clear, vivid style char- 
acteristic of a good newspaper man, the author writes of interesting people he 
has met and of tales told to him in his travels. 

Some names are familiar to all, such as George Bernard Shaw, Mahatma 
Ghandi and John L. Sullivan. Others are unknown to most of us, namely Sarah 
McNabb, the stork chaser; Ortega, the Mexican bullfighter; Jerome, the man 
without any feet, and many more. In the eyes of Bob Davis they are all impor- 
tant, for each has a story to offer. 

It would take a great deal of searching, outside of Ripley's "Believe It or 
Not, ' ' to find a more amazing story than one Bob Davis encountered in Meteghan, 
Nova Scotia. It concerns a sailor, Jerome, who in 1880, was found with both 
legs amputated four inches below the knee, on a lonely stretch of Nova Scotia 
beach. Beside his lay a paper bag containing pilot crackers, evidence, perhaps, 
that he had been abandoned by a passing ship. He was moved to a sympathetic 
fisherman's house and well taken care of. Nothing was ever discovered about 
his past life nor how he came to be left on the beach, for he did not speak a 
word from the time he was found until his death forty years later. 

People who sit at home and long for romance will find it by reading this 
cross-section of life amid varied persons in different lands, told by a man who 
found romance in his seven-hundred-thousand miles of globe-trotting. 

Bob has a gift for gathering a tremendous number of human interest stories, 
a trait typical of a good newspaper man. Another admirable thing about his 
book is the way he puts himself in the background and just writes of "People, 
People, Everywhere ! ' ' 

John MacKenzie, '38 

f ou (Kmrt Sake M Mttlj fnu 


• Could your grandfather have retired at the age of thirty-five to settle down 
to the tranquil, domestic business of fire-cracker making? That is just what 
Martin Vanderhoff did in "You Can't Take It With You." His home is just 
around the corner from Columbia University, but don 't go looking for it. A few 
members of the family have a propensity for bringing casual acquaintances 
home to live with them. Therefore, the gathering under this roof is, to say 
the least, unusual. The dethroned Grand Duchess Katherine, of Russia, pre- 
pares a meal for the family; a prominent broker, father of Alice's boy friend, 
is arrested in this house while a dinner guest and packed off to jail. 

• Sixteen 

One of the sons is arrested for circulating boxes of candy containing 
communistic and radical ideas of government. Officials find enough gun powder 
in the cellar to blow up the entire city. The first act closes with a terrific 
explosion from the gun powder. Everyone is in an uproar, except grandfather ; 
he looks as though he could enjoy a good game of darts. 

There are two objects for writing this play: first, to make us realize that 
in this busy, bustling, and bungling world, life is passing us by, while we are 
absorbed in daily, matter-of-fact problems, and second, that the present admin- 
instration, with its relief and W.P.A., has created a most dependent group of 
citizens. They enjoy their leisure time at the expense of others. Why should 
they work? Relief and being on the W.P.A. are much more pleasant! These 
government parasites even object because they must personally go to the 
government office to obtain their weekly dole. 

This play is a brilliat satire on current social conditions presented in a 
most hilarious manner. If you read this play without smiling or laughing 
aloud every few pages, you are one in a million. 

Lillian Russell, '38 


• While on her journey around the world, modelling the different races 
for the Field Museum, Malvina Hoffman had miraculous escapes which make 
one's hair stand on end. Her lucky star must have been on watch, however, 
for the Field Museum's Hall of Man is the result. 

Though the original plan called for painted plaster models with human 
hair and glass eyes, Miss Hoffman persuaded the authorities that bronze figures 
would be better. These include Chinese, Malays, Hawaiians, and Indian and 
Nepalese princes. 

The hardships of the journey, Miss Hoffman took in her stride, aided by 
her husband, Samuel Grimson, who acted as photographer. They travelled in 
stuffy native trains, by camel, motor, and ship, always accompanied by their 
twenty-seven boxes of equipment. 

She had barely left her hotel in Shanghai when it was bombed by the 
Japanese; in the Malay jungles she would have been bitten by a snake had it 
not been for the vigilance of the native she was modelling; in Bali she was 
nearly hit by coconuts several times while watching a dancing ceremony. 

If you once open the book and see one of the illustrations, you won't lay 
it down until you have read it from cover to cover, for the illustrations are one of 
its most fascinating features. You '11 find photographs of statues of Paderewski, 
of Anna Pavlowa, of Hawaiian surf riders, Chinese Coolies, African warriors, 
pygmies, Burmese "giraffe-necked" women, and pictures of bronzes in various 
stages of the making. 

Miss Hoffman must have been a great sculptor before her expedition, else 
the Field Museum would not have chosen her, but surely the success of the Hall 
of Man and the living quality of this book have given her permanent fame. 

Joyce Thompson, '38 

■k Seventeen 

Uratfjrr - Snmtb 


I've just turned off the radio, 
And spurned the many books, 
And now I gaze at splattered panes, 
With pensive, moody looks. 

I watch the swift, fine drizzle 
That headlights passing by 
Reveal with candid clearness, 
Like needles loosed on high. 

I hear the pounding rain-drops 
Echo through the room, 
Penetrate the silence, 
Accentuate the gloom. 

And then I see the likeness 
Of rain to time and life 
As it drones on so relentlessly 
With its firm, unyielding strife. 

Helen Johnson, '38 


When summer breezes whisper 
And the blue waves gently curl, 
I board my trim, swift craft 
And watch her sheets unfurl. 

In an instant I cast the mooring, 
In an instant I start to glide, 
With nothing but pleasure before 

My troubles all have died. 

The borderless sea surrounding 
Carries my thoughts afar. 
I rock and drift and dream 
Till low in the west — a star. 

Brenda Davison, '39 


His hat was an old black derby 

With a feather in the band, 

His eyes, two sparkling buttons 

In a face inexpressive and bland, 

Around his cold neck was thrown, 

In a jaunty sort of way, 

A woolly scarf that grandma knit 

With fringe of colors gay, 

The children stood and admired their 

The fruit of their labor that day, 

But the sun shone bright and warm 
ere noon — 

Mr. Snowman passed away! 

Mary Falvey, '39 

• Eighteen 


* Confound this rain; can't 
see two feet ahead. Wonder 
what's the matter with the 
windshield wiper — worked 
okay last time. Guess I'll 
stop awhile. May let up a 
little. A drink wouldn't go 
so bad anyway. Let's see — 
where am I? Almost to the 
"Blue Tavern." I'll go a bit 
farther; rather have more 
drinks and less service anyway. What a racket — this tip business. Won- 
der if I can make that light. Too slippery — might skid. Okay, bud, 
keep your shirt on, I'm moving. Wonder where some of these smart 
Alecs would be without a horn. Thinks he's a big shot, I suppose. 
Mmmmmm, here's a place that doesn't look so bad; may as well stop here 
as anywhere; hope that rain stops. Not bad, this place. I'll have to remember 
it. . . Say, this hits the spot all right, all right. . . Gee, didn't know it was 
that late. Just one more and I'll shove off. Where's the door? Oho, must've 
had one too many. Where the heck — O, I've got it. What a night — bad as 
ever. Let's see now, how do I turn here? This is right; I remember the dark 
stretch. Not many cars on the road — I'll step it up a little. What's that? 
Something in the road ? Must be imagining things. No ! Brakes ! My God ! 
There was something ! A kid ! Must have been a kid ! On a bicycle. What 
if he's dead! Good Lord, what a mess. What'll I do? Can't leave him 
here. Wonder where he lives. Might take him to a hospital and say I found 
him in the road. They'd find dents in the fenders or something. A cop! I'm 
done for this time. I'll get the kid in the back seat anyway and we'll rush him 
to the hospital. Perhaps there is a chance for him yet. 


Gee, what happened? O yeah, the car couldn't stop. Wonder where 
he's taking me. Must be to the hospital. Guess I'll keep quiet and not say 
anything. What a smash! Guy was on the wrong side of the road — musta 
been drunk. Well, they can't say it was my fault this time. Holy cats, the 
same cop! Maybe it won't be so easy. Wonder what my bike looks like — 
must be smashed to pieces. I don't feel so bad though. If I keep still maybe 
he'll think I'm hurt bad and buy me a new bike. He might have dough. 
Pretty swell looking car he's got here. 


What will his mother say this time, I wonder ? Kid must have a charmed 
life. This makes the third time he's been hit, I guess. Out on a night like this 
with no light — well it's the last time he'll do it on that bike. Driver seems 
to be pretty jittery — poor guy — probably first time he ever hit anyone. Well, 
guess he'll get out of it all right under the conditions. The man couldn't 
be expected to see a bike without a light, on a night like this. 

• Nineteen 

If that kid's dead it means prison. The cop must smell the liquor. 
Drunken driving and manslaughter — that's what the charges will be. Heaven 
knows what that means. Prison, prison! Uniforms, bars. No! Never! 
He told me to do forty-five — if I step it up to sixty I can jump the curb and 
crash the fence on the curve at the foot of this grade. There's a forty foot 
drop to the tracks — that ought to end my trouble. No jail life for me! 
Here goes! 

2Hjf ICnmt? (§f Hearts nr (ttuptin Stalks 

* Side by side, hand in hand, they walk about, these lovers of ours. With 
tender glances and soft voices they caress each other. The arms of Psyche, 
goddess of young love, encompass them and the merciless arrows of Cupid 
thud into their unresisting hearts. The sweet voices of this god and goddess 
lull them, all unsuspecting, into a state where air is their floor and things seem 
as in a dream. They do not tread the corridors of Senior High; their light 
feet carry them to a place where moonlit waters caress the silver sands, where 
from the shades of the forest comes the wood thrush's call or the sweet, 
clear song of the nightingale. The heady essence of exotic flowers clouds their 
brains so that nothing is real but the other. 

But this ethereal paradise is short-lived, for the brazen clangor of a bell 
jerks them from their peaceful reveries to send them scurrying to their next 
class, there to slump in their seats and stare out the window, with unseeing 
eyes, enduring life till they may once more gain that celestial state where 
nothing matters and earthy things are as far from them as limburger is from 
a dowager. 

How cruel it is to startle them from their dreams! Instead of harsh 
bells why not a chime to waken them more easily? Instead of bare, hard 
corridors, why not a carpeted lane strewn with roses to guide their happy feet ? 

Let us not intrude upon their peace, let us not divert those warm glances. 
It surprises me sometimes that those warm glances don't short-circuit. But 
be that as it may, let us leave them alone. 

There is a limit, however, so let these people take heed! Let one more 
pair of love-stricken young calves get in my way and there will be two less 
students in Quincy High! 

Roy Hutchins, '39 

• Twenty 

Best Sophomore Story— DOMENICA DE POLO 

• The towering Alps with their old white 
heads looked down protectingly on a cozy 
little village in northern Italy where, for 
generations, peace-loving farmers had made 
their homes, cultivated small patches of rocky 
soil, and labored to raise their sons and 
daughters hoping that they would be the 
pride and joy of their old age, when all else 
failed. This was not to be. The tender 
dreams of mothers, the proud hopes of 
fathers for their sons were torn ruthlessly 
from the bosoms of those who cherished 
them, when in the year 1914 war was de- 

Among the villagers was a widowed 
mother whose very life was in the keeping 
of her only son, Mario, whom she adored. 

As she stood on the sidelines, with a heart too full of tender pride and bitter 
sorrow for common tears, she watched all that her seventy years stood for, 
marching with the rest of the youths, full of life and anticipation of victory. 
The flag that floated before them held in its silken folds the lives of these 
youths and the broken hearts of mothers, wives and sweethearts. And so 
the flower of youth marched away from the safe secluded gardens. 

Cannons roared; guns barked; men moaned in agony; women screamed 
in horror; Death was a constant companion; war had begun! Mario was 
amidst all this. Along with his companions he fought at the front, heedless 
of rain, snow, bitter cold, stifling heat, rotting food, biting cooties, scurrying 
rats, physical pain, heart-breaking sorrow, and all else that spelled war. The 
very rivers from which they drank flowed red with the blood of those who 
had died protecting their banks. A year had gone by. Day after day, week 
after week the struggle went on with not a spark of hope for peace. 

One night Mario was left on guard over a few of his sleeping com- 
panions, the small remnant of Company K after the memorable encounter 
at the Piave. He had had a hard day, but with the never-complaining spirit 
of a soldier he undertook his task. As night spread her blanket over the 
battle-torn world and the stars twinkled as though glad to be thousands of 
miles away from that ruthless planet, Earth, that never learns even by experi- 
ence that war is futile, Mario's thoughts wandered far from their abode to 
dwell on the sweet, more humane things of life. How beautiful the world 
really was, how peaceful and quiet, how far away and unreal the war seemed. 
Mario heard a step. "Halt! Who goes there!" 

"Just Luigi, Mario. Put down your gun. Golly, but I was thirsty. 
I just got up to get a drink. Would you like some? Here." After giving 
Mario the water and exchanging a few words, Luigi departed for his tent. 

• Twenty-One 

The whispering of the winds and the fragrance of the pines drifting 
lusciously past Mario's nostrils threatened to make numb his tired senses. 
He must not sleep. He must not! Dear God forbid that this should happen. 
The lives of those men sleeping were intrusted to him. The whispering of 
the wind went on, the fragrance of the pines grew sweeter. Sleep beckoned 
that tired youth to rest and he answered. 

In the still of the night came the enemies as if they knew that the guard 
had fallen asleep, to attack the unsuspecting survivors of Company K. First 
they seized and tied Mario, who had awakened too late to give the signal, 
but not too late to realize what he had done. He repented with a broken 
heart the weakness which had led him to fall asleep, when if he had been 
awake, he could have given to his comrades a chance for victory, instead of 
letting them be caught in a trap like rats. The enemies made prisoners of 
all the other men in the camp. As they were being led away under heavy 
guard with Mario at their head, on only one face was there a gleam of triumph, 
and that face was the face of the traitor who was responsible for this predic- 
ament. Thus Mario and his comrades were led to Austrian prisons, victims 
of war. 

While Mario was in prison, his thoughts wandered back to the bitter 
night when they had been captured and wondered how he could have fallen 
asleep. No suitable explanation entered his aching head as dawn broke, 
flooding the earth with sunlight. 

Silence, then footsteps were heard coming nearer and nearer to Mario's 
lonely cell. "Who could it be?" Mario wondered. The footsteps ceased. 
Mumbling was heard. Mario grew tense and braced himself against the 
rough stone wall of his cell to hear what was being said. 

"and," said a voice full of bitter sarcasm, "I disguised myself and 

became a respectable member of their regiment." 

"This voice sounds familiar," thought Mario. 

The voice continued, "When Mario was on guard he was thirsty, and 
I, like a gentleman, offered him a drink from my canteen. How was I to 
know that I had put sleeping powder in it?" A loud laugh from both 
men followed this bit of grim humor and the men departed. 

Mario's head dropped to his hands. He had heard all that he wanted 
to hear and more. So this was how it had happened, this was the way in 
which he had been betrayed. As he dragged himself, heavy in heart, to the 
crude bench which he used for a bed, it all came back to him with sickening 
revelation. He, Mario, had partaken of the water that was to put him to 
sleep and cause this catastrophe, just as the traitor and spy had said. As 
these thoughts raced about in his head, a spark of hope kindled in his bosom. 
He knew now that he was innocent, and knowing this, he could perhaps 
convince his countrymen who now disdained him. His own conscience clear, 
he could hold up his head. He need no longer call himself a traitor; he need 
no longer shelter the pain of being a man without a country. Yes, he was 
innocent. He knew it and those who loved him knew it, but who else would ? 
Doubt crept over the heart that was joyous for but a brief time. How was 
he to prove his innocence? The traitor that had done this wrong to him 

• Twenty-Two 

would never confess and he had no way of proving his innocence. Thus we 
leave this embittered youth, hating the world that had wronged him. 

When the Armistice was declared the same mothers that had stood in 
the sidelines in the village, stood there again that day, hoping against hope 
that their sons would return with the others. Among them was Mario's 
mother. Her old face lighted with hope and expectation that was to be 
quenched. No Mario marched in the ranks. She walked home, tears blinding 
her eyes, the flickering flame of life nearly gone out, a broken, pitiful woman. 
When with trembling hands she opened the door of her home, before her 
stood her son, Mario, the lines of the past suffering erased from his face at 
the joy of seeing his old mother once more. After a hard battle with himself 
he had decided to take the only road back and that was to try to prove his 
innocence. Had he stayed out of his country he might have escaped the 
inevitable punishment of martial law for one failing in his duty. He could 
not at any price, give up his life without a supreme effort to save it. 

It was a beautiful sunset; the church bells chimed the "Ave Maria." Mario 
stood bound and blindfolded, his back to the grave that was to be his resting 
place, his face forward to the sunset that he could not see, his strong body 
the target of those men with guns. His generous heart was full of forgiveness. 
The guns barked twice in succession interrupting the chimes, and Mario's soul 
ascended into Heaven along with their melody. His attempts at proving his 
innocence had failed and he was caught and killed as a traitor. Such is war, 
ruthless, treacherous, and unfeeling. May the good God grant us everlasting 



• In her delightful essays, ' ' Personal Pleasures, ' ' Miss Rose Macaulay 
presents a varied and unusual array of subjects. Common, everyday topics 
such, as church going, getting into bed, and going to parties are brought to our 
attention. The author expresses opinions which have often occurred to us, but 
which we are not able to expand upon as clearly or as bluntly as she has done. 

The author's knack of using words that convey her meaning particularly 
well adds to the keen humor of the compositions. After a vivid, or imaginary 
or very inspiring description, there is invariably in the last paragraph some 
common-place remark which breaks the spell and brings one down to earth 
with a jolt. 

"Book Auctions" is especially enjoyable. The sales room is quiet except 
for the auctioneer who never ceases to talk and coax and wheedle his clients into 
buying. The flip of a notebook, the blowing of a nose, and the tilt of a hat 
signifies to the presiding god that the price offered for the book in question is 
being raised. During the proceedings, the author unfortunately has the hiccups 
and finds herself the owner of a volume which she heartily does not want. 

The essay about the old family album is also very amusing. How many 
people discuss and pore over this precious heirloom in just the way Miss 
Macaulay relates it, criticising, pausing to tell stories about the person in 
question, commenting on the style of dress, and skipping the unmentionable 
ancestors! The essay ends with this comment: "Poor figures I feel most of 
us will cut beside them, when the album shall imprison us, too." This is a 
sad but true observation which will be endorsed by future generations. 

Peggy Syme, '38 
• Twenty-Three 










8 Welcome, Sophs. 

9 Mornin,' teacher. 

17 Constitution Day — out at 

25 Hooray! Quincy 14, Brain- 
tree 0. 

2 Three more cheers! Quincy 

12, Brookline 0. 


9 Too bad. Chelsea 27, Quincy 

11 Deficiencies — remember? 

12 Our regards to Christopher C. 
14 Juniors and seniors hear Mr. 

Howard P. Davis. 
16 Shucks! Quincy 0, Attle- 

boro 0. 
25 Ouch! Newton 21, Quincy 0. 
30 A triumph — well done! Quincy 

6, Weymouth 0. 


5 Lively North rally. 

6 Quincy 0, North 0. So what? 
6 "Music goes round" — in the 

gym. Varsity Dance. 

10 Armistice assembly program. 

11 Day off. Armistice. 

13 Wow! Quincy 27, Fitchburg 


16 Report Cards — as if you for- 


19 Brockton rally. 

20 Must we tell? Brockton 32, 

Quincy 0. 

23 City pays honor to Dr. Hunt- 


24 Thanksgiving holiday — be- 

ginning at noon. 

25 Ah! Turkey Day!! 


14 Science demonstration by 

General Motors. 

17 Basketball season opens with 

the Alumni. 

18 Hockey season opens at the 


20 Greetings! — deficiencies. 

21 Annual Christmas program. 
23 Christmas vacation. 

25 The Season's greetings. 


1 Happy New Year. 

3 Back again. 


For some 350 students and their 
guests, the "music went 'round and 
'round" merrily in the gym on No- 
vember sixth. The event was the 
Varsity Dance, sponsored by the 
Student Council. Following through 
this theme, attractive sports murals 
colorfully decorated the gym. Mem- 
bers of the football team were 
guests of the Student Council. Hugh 
Russell's orchestra furnished the 
melodious tunes that kept those 
present well occupied for the even- 


During this fall, two new clubs 
were formed in the school, the Rifle 
Club and the Riding Club. 

The Rifle Club was organized by 
Mr. LeCain, who is the director. 
The members have become affiliated 
with the National Rifle Association, 
and they are going to shoot for 
official N.R.A. medals. Later, it is 
planned, a representative team will 
be chosen to compete with other 
school or club teams. Plans for 
practice include Swingle's Quarry 
and the Armory. The officers are 
Jack Jones, president; Francis Sal- 
tus, vice president; Lawrence Cope- 
land, secretary; and Robert Kel- 
course, treasurer. 


Have you seen any bent knees 
or heard any creaking bones lately? 
Well, that is the way Quincy High's 
Riding Club advertises. This new 
club meets every Monday in suit- 
able weather and starts out from 
Ferguson's Riding Stables in Brain- 
tree. The group rides through trails 
in the Blue Hills under the instruc- 
tion of members of the Ferguson 
family. Who knows but that in 
the future, stabling for horses will 
be as much in demand by pupils as 
parking space for bicycles? 




On the fourteenth of October, the 
senior and junior classes were privi- 
leged to hear Mr. Howard P. Davis, 
commentator and foreign correspon- 
dent for "News Week" magazine. 
Mr. Davis, who was brought before 
the students through the efforts of 
Mr. Hardy of the Y.M.C.A., was 
introduced by Robert Dobbyn, sen- 
ior class president. 

Mr. Davis's subject was the politi- 
cal and economic situations con- 
fronting the world today. He told 
us that Germany, Italy, and Japan 
(the "have-not" nations) have de- 
veloped in such a way that the peace 
of the world has been jeopardized. 
He also told us what these nations 
are striving toward, and what the 
result would be if ever their aims 
should cross those of the greater 
powers of the world. Blaming the 
way in which the Allies treated 
these nations at the close of the 
World War, he cautioned us to be 
broad-minded and tolerant, and to 
respect the other fellow's point of 
view, and there proceeded to warn 
us of the results if we do not con- 
sider the other person. 

Mr. Davis's power to hold the 
attention of his audience strongly 
indicated that this subject proved 
very interesting to all. He is, most 
assuredly, welcome to speak here 
again at any time. 


The Girls' Club has done its usual 
good piece of work during the holi- 
day season. The Thanksgiving col- 
lections which were turned over to 
the Family Welfare Society, were 
the most successful in recent years, 
showing the excellent work of the 
club and its members. The annual 
Children's Christmas Party, a regu- 
lar yearly club activity, was a most 
pleasant affair for the children in- 
vited. Each guest was assigned to 
a club member, who saw that the 
youngster enjoyed himself and was 
supplied with a gift from Santa. 
Games were played and carols sung. 
The party was enlivened by the 
gayly decorated tree and the appear- 
ance of Santa Claus himself. The 
Christmas Party has become one of 
the most important of the activities 
of our school. 



■- -ya^- ^*r — • - 


Weatfier — SNOW- COLD 


Quincy High observed Education 
Week this year by holding another 
of its successful Open-House Nights 
on Wednesday evening, November 
10. The first part of the program 
was conducted in the auditorium. 
Paul Boland, President of the Stu- 
dent Council, welcomed the parents. 
A talk on Horace Mann, father of 
American education, was given by 
Richard Sager. The orchestra was 
on hand to render selections. Fol- 
lowing this program, teachers were 
in their rooms so that parents might 
have an opportunity to speak to 


On Sunday, November 21, Dr. 
Nathaniel Hunting, one of our city's 
most beloved citizens, who for 
thirty-seven years was a member of 
the School Committee, passed away. 

Up until recent years, Dr. Hunt- 
ing had been actively engaged in 
school affairs and since his retire- 
ment from the School Committee 
he showed, in many ways, his inter- 
est in Quincy's schools. More than 
a few families boasted that he was 
the family doctor. At the Quincy 
City Hospital he was a great fa- 

It was, therefore, only proper that 
the city should honor one of its 
great men as it did. All schools 
were closed during the afternoon of 
November 23, as a mark of respect 
to Dr. Hunting. 


SENIORS: It is time for you to 
be making plans concerning your 
graduation pictures. Have them 
taken early, before the great rush 
begins. Be sure to have at least 
one pose with a white background 
to be used in the Golden Rod. 
Have the photographer make a 
glossy four inches wide by six 
inches tall This will be free of 
charge with your order, and if you 
request it, the photographer will 
send the glossy directly to Quincy 
High School. 



General Motors Demonstration 
Presented to Students 

On Tuesday, December 14, we 
had the privilege of viewing a re- 
markable science demonstration 
brought to us through General 
Motors. To explain some of the 
reasons for what happened is be- 
yond our power, but we can attempt 
to tell what we saw. 

Strong magnetic fields were set up 
by means of high frequency Alter- 
nating Current, which produce a 
heating effect on metals. By using 
this field a nail was heated red-hot 
as the current passed through it. 
Non-metals were not affected by the 
magnetic field. This field was set 
up by passing a current through 
a wire coiled around a solenoid. 
A Tesler coil was set up with 
1,000,000 volts in it. This high 
voltage caused two neon tubes to 
light when held in the hands of the 
demonstrator, who acted as an an- 
tennae. By means of neon tubes 
and a photo-electric cell, a voice and 
musical sounds were transmitted 
through the air from a phonograph 
to a loudspeaker in the same man- 
ner that the radio works. 

This fine demonstration caused 
wonderment among those unfami- 
liar with the study, and excited no 
little interest in modern science. All 
'chose who saw the exhibit were 
well-pleased with the time they 
spent in the hall that Tuesday. 


Didn't Smith and Jones use to be 
the most common names? The 
Smiths are still on top as far as 
Quincy High School cognomens go, 
but are tied by the Johnsons, and 
the Joneses are but three! What 
comes next, Sullivan? No. The 
MacDonalds, and they're just one 
ahead of the Andersons. DiBona, 
Thompson, Murray, Murphy, Buck- 
ley and DiTullio are runners-up. 
Is your name in fashion these days? 

Through the united efforts of the 
English and Library departments 
of our school, all students were 
treated to an unusually fine series 
of sketches as an observance of 
Book Week, which started Novem- 
ber 15. 

On Tuesday, November 16, they 
were presented to the sophomores, 
and on Thursday, November 18, 
they were viewed by the upper 
classmen. An afternoon perfor- 
mance, to which the library staffs 
of the various junior high schools 
were invited, was given on Tuesday 

The stage program started with 
several students browsing in a li- 
brary. The background showed the 
bindings of several oversized books 
that opened like doors. After dis- 
cussing the different stories, the 
browsers knocked on the back of 
the books and out of them the 
characters appeared. They then pro- 
ceeded to act one of the interesting 
scenes from the book. The pro- 
gram included the following: 
"Life With Father," by Clarence 
Day, with Dorothy Gilliland, Nor- 
man Coffman, Charles Henderson, 
of the sophomore and junior 
"Northwest Passage," by Kenneth 
Roberts, with David Sternberg, 
Robert Dobbyn, David Cheney, 
John Bates, Walter Foster, Eu- 
gene Tangherlini, Francis Saltus 
of the senior class. 
"Surprising the Family," by Frances 
Lester Warner, with Hector Pi- 
mentel, Eileen Young, seniors. 
"Scott of Abbotsford," by Gunn, 
with John McLean, Virginia 
Allen, juniors. 
"The Hurricane," Nordhoff and 
Hall, with William Cohen, Anne 
Donnelly, Eugene Pearlin, Mar- 
dita Thompson, sophomores. 
"Works of Rudyard Kipling," by 
Kipling. Twelve girls of the 
senior class gave an exhibition of 
choral reading using as selections 
"The Bell Buoy" and "Smuggler's 
Those students who were browsing 
included Edna McConaghy, Fran- 
cis Ranieri, Betty Wylie, Ann 
Daley, Jack Jones, Richard De- 



Highest Honors: 
Walter Anderson 
Lahja Kohonen 

Martha Ahola 
Gloria Alicandri 
Mildred Anderson 
Robert Avery 
Lincoln Bartlett 
Phyllis Bassett 
Harold Bertrand 
Claire Brick 
John Brown 
Eleanor Caliacco 
Jack Cappabianca 
Ruth Carlisle 
William Carnathan 
Kathleen Caron 
James Cassani 
Frances Clark 
Dorothy CofTman 
Alfred Colella 
Jean Cunningham 
Anna Daly 
Rose D'Atri 
Gertrude Davis 
Richard DeBruyn 
Mary Donaher 
Catherine Driscoll 

Highest Honors: 
Phyllis Dunstan 
Richard Fallows 

Dorothy Anderson 
Julia Angelini 
Rae Appel 
Audrey Ash 
Marion Asnes 
Robert Bailey 
Andrew Baker 
Phyllis Barkley 
Earle Beauregard 
Lawrence Bertrand 
Angelina Biagini 
Eleanor Bone 
Theodore Bottigi 
Paula Bradford 
Joseph Butt 
Clarence Carlson 
Dorothy Ceriani 
John Chisholm 
Madeline Cislaghi 
Barbara Collins 

Highest Honors: 
Eleanor Arvidson 
Inez Donati 
Dorothy Gilliland 

Class of 1938 

Frances Kramer 
Barbara Merrill 

Dorothy Dyer 
Attilio Franceschini 
James Geddes 
Greta Goodwin 
Yvette Goudreau 
Lorraine Gove 
Jennie Graceffa 
Ralph Graham 
Elsa Grahn 
Jessie Grant 
Marion Gustafson 
Margaret Hagerty 
Isabel Hajjar 
Raakel Hamalainen 
Ruth Hendrick 
Myrtle Holmgren 
Evelyn Holtsclaw 
Adeline Igo 
Alice Jackson 
Shirley Janik 
Helen Johnson 
William Johnson 
Jack Jones 
Clara Kapsis 
Helen Kellner 
Bernice Kermode 

Class op 

Priscilla Kay 
Antonio Mollica 
Jean Muir 

Charles Conway 
Frances Cooney 
Virginia DiMonte 
Jean Doig 
Elinor Dunkerly 
Marjorie Eng 
John Eramo 
Marie Erickson 
Elizabeth Esi 
Dorothy Fallows 
Mary Falvey 
Marjorie French 
Jean Galbraith 
Evelyn Gallagher 
Dorothy Giarusso 
Arthur Granville 
Walter Gustafson 
Alfred Hakkarinen 
Sam Hassan 
Roy Hutchins 
Emily Johnson 


Kathleen Hoffman 
Anny Laukkanen 
Dorothy McLean 

Priscilla Pinel 
Louise Quintiliani 

Gladys Kewn 
Robert Kingsbury 
Marian Koeller 
Gordon Lauder 
John Laukkanen 
George L\isk 
Irene MacCauley 
Edna McConaghy 
John McKenzie 
Betty McNicol 
Emily Mandelli 
Lamont Marchant 
Ethel Marder 
Sophie Messina 
William Munroe 
Phyllis Olson 
John Page 
Bernard Paolucci 
Betty Pickett 
Roger Quilty 
Francis Eanieri 
Francis Richards 
Lucy Rigo 
Marion Royce 
Lillian Russell 
Margaret Sandford 

Richard Seymour 
Madelyn Stout 
Emily Vaillancourt 

William Kataja 
Maura Keating 
Jessie Kettlety 
Helen Kondelin 
Hester Koskinen 
Ruth Leonard 
Rosemary Logan 
Madeline McCormick 
Helen McGrath 
Phyllis Macomber 
John McLean 
Marion Macteer 
Arthur Mackie 
Margery Martin 
Duncan Melrose 
Myrtle Mock 
Ella Montgomery 
Linda Monti 
Dina Morelli 
Ann Moscone 
Anna Nimeskern 
of 1940 

Marianne Ostrum 
Louise Patriarca 
Cesareo Pena 

Irving Sibert 

Dorothy Sawyer 
Rita Scanlon 
Arne Severinson 
Ida Sgobba 
Miriam Sheehan 
Ruth Silver 
Harold Sinclair 
Dorothy Singler 
Evelyn Smith 
Ray Smith 
Kathryn Snow 
Lester Sprague 
David Sternberg 
Mary Syme 
Eugene Tangherlini 
Diana Taplin 
Lucy Tenore 
Evelyn Theall 
William Turner 
Clara Ward 
Elizabeth Ward 
William Wishart 
Bella Yabovitz 
Morris Zeidman 

Betty Wylie 
Theresa Zezzos 

Jean Norrie 
Florence O'Brien 
Marion Pugliesi 
Joan Richards 
Doris Rioux 
Joe Salvatore 
Dorothy Seaver 
Alice Smith 
Frederick Spencer 
Earl Smith 
Edmund Spinney 
Gerald Sullivan 
Edna Tamm 
Agnes Tatro 
Edna Thorner 
Lorraine Tolman 
Geraldine Turney 
Eleanor Twiss 
Ruth Whiting 

Ruth Rappaport 
Donald White 

Honors : 
John Adams 
Virginia Allen 
Edward Anastasi 
Veijo Anderson 
Arnold Applebaum 
Derelyn Bagley 
Florence Beaton 
Mabel Biagini 
Cynthia Bishop 
Charles Boisclair 
Rita Braun 
Warren Broberg 
Marjorie Burr 
Mary Bussolini 
Gilda Campitelli 
Marjorie Cameron 
Lilly Carlson 
Alice Carson 
Fred Caulfield 
Edith Cellucci 
Angelina Cenci 
Betty Coates 
William Cohen 
Betty Coose 
David Curtin 

Erva Davidson 
Paul Dennehy 
Alice DePesa 
Domenica DePolo 
Annette DiBona 
Olga DiChristopher 
Pearl Duffey 
Philip Dwyer 
Constance Estes 
Rose Fantasia 
Orman Fisher 
Marion Fredrickson 
Rose Gabriel 
Helen Gallagher 
Ruth Gilbody 
Theresa Giudici 
Elizabeth Graff 
Eileen Gray 
Frances Griffin 
Elna Groop 
Helen Gustafson 
Ruth Gustafson 
Julia Hajjar 
Dorothy Hanson 
Marjorie Hansson 
Virginia Harding 

Robert Hart 
James Haslett 
Loretta Hawco 
Ruth Hibbett 
Elaine Hubbell 
Roland Johnson 
Marguerite Joss 
John Judge 
Frances Kerr 
Richard Koski 
Maria LaMantia 
Flora Latou 
Theresa Lawrence 
Louise Lennon 
Margaret Leva 
Robert Lindquist 
Joseph Liva 
Gemma Lungari 
Maria Marchetti 
Russell Maver 
William Mclnnis 
Mary Macintosh 
George McKenna 
Irma McKenzie 
Wallace McPhee 
Roy Marcucci 

Jeanne Millett 
James Milne 
Daniel Mochen 
Doris Moody 
Marion Norling 
Dante Pasqualone 
Frank Pohlson 
Rita Pompeo 
Doris Preston 
Hazel Prevost 
Albert Quist 
Doris Raleigh 
Helen Ross 
Phyllis Rowe 
Mary St. John 
Marie Saluti 
Margaret Saulnier 
Clare Shillue 
Beverly Sinclair 
Eileen Sweeney 
Isabelle Thiboutot 
Mardita Thompson 
Elizabeth Todd 
Jean Tolphin 
John Vergobbi 
Irma Wolf 

Sn f nu Knout Mr. lurnljam? 

An Interview With Our Supervisor of Attendance 


• // you haven't met the gentleman, you really should; for Mr. Burnham, 
Quincy's efficient Truant Officer (or, to be technically correct, our Supervisor 
of Attendance) is such a fine person to know socially. As for business con- 
tacts, I suppose we should be thankful that they have been few and far between ! 

Mr. Burnham has served six years in the capacity of Truant Officer, and, 
though he is an accountant by profession and has worked in several other 
fields, he finds his present occupation the most interesting of all. It is not 
that he enjoys intercepting the wandering feet of some of our classmates, but he 
does like the associations with both pupils and parents it affords him, and also 
the opportunity for setting many a youngster on the road to happiness and 

Working in connection with the Welfare Society and other social organi- 
zations, he is in a position to lend valuable aid to those needing assistance. 
Through his office are also handled the working certificates necessary for 
those under twenty-one years engaged in any employment. 

He has found that most parents are only too anxious to cooperate with 
him and are appreciative of the School Department's efforts to keep their 
children in school. 

This incident that he related to me I found rather amusing. One beautiful 
spring morning he was reprimanding a boy who had played "hookey" the 

• Twenty-Seven 

preceding day, which had been rainy, cold, and thoroughly disagreeable. 
Mr. Burnham asked the boy, who had spent the bleak day wandering through 
the woods, why, if he was planning to skip school, he had not at least selected 
a more pleasant day. The youngster's ready response was, "Well, sir, I didn't 
think you would suspect me on a day like that." 

Mr. Burnham is very much interested in athletics and enjoys working 
with the boys on the Legion teams. He has made a great many friends in 
the schools during his career as Attendance Supervisor, and has had the satis- 
faction of having many an offender come to him after graduation and confess 
that his sage counsel had helped to lead him to worth-while achievements. 


• The firelight traces each seam in her countenance and each seam tells 
a story. She is old, incredibly so. The rosy reflection of the flames softens 
her features and the countless furrows seem not so deep, as she sits meditating 
by the iron pot from which steam odored with rabbit meat, rises and mingles 
with the air above. Her sharp, beady eyes were once soft and dancing eyes, 
whose caressing glances captivated the dashing gypsy males. With age and 
wisdom attained, bearing children, the trials of hardship, her youthful 
expression has changed to one of shrewdness. 

As dusk clothes all drabness and austerity, so also is the gypsy woman 
enfolded in its fading light. We see her in the twilight by the fire, stirring 
the stew. Only a faint outline of her bent back is visible. Wisps of hair 
fall about her face and are blown back by the rising steam. Her greasy spoon 
is suspended in mid-air as she unseeingly stares at the pot. Dancing shadows 
play in the hollows between each bone of her hand. Half naked children 
shriek joyously as they smell supper cooking and they crowd around the pot 
with tin cups, ready to devour their share. Rangy dogs come forward with 
their lolling, dripping tongues. Rabbit stew waters their mouth and fills 
their stomach cavities rapidly, but still their ribs show through flea-bitten flesh. 

She serves each one, expressionless and tireless. After supper, music 
and dancing occupy all but her. Deformed and toothless, she sits back in 
the darkness, watching the merrymaking before her. Youth was having its 
fling. Once she had been the object of ardent glances and had danced to the 
gay accordions and jingling tambourines. 

Almost a century drifts past her as she dozes off contentedly. As her 
eyes close, this worn woman relaxes. Her once luscious, full lips, now a 
thin purple line, droop. Veined, almost transparent eyelids slowly close 
over tired eyes as she sleeps, content with the world and her share of life in 
it. And we leave her thus. 

• Twenty-Eight 

Mxxivx QDtur £>ib? &?&& Unm^tunrk, Jfeaae 

• Although school seems to be viewed by adults as a form of recreation, 
we pupils can assure you it is far from that. Of course, there is no physical 
labor involved, except in climbing stairs, but we really do work with our 
minds. Isn't it natural for us to object when our working hours extend into 
time we should have for fun? When our fathers have finished their work, 
they may go home and forget their labors, but we, who love parties, moving 
pictures, and companionship, must study French, do mathematics, make a 
map for history, and do that Library assignment for English. All this often 
takes four or five hours, which added to our regular working hours, makes 
at least a fifty hour week. Yet, what is it we study in P.V.A. or read about 
in the papers? A forty hour week. 

Each teacher seems to forget that we have homework for other teachers, 
and sweetly remarks that it will only take a little while, not more than an 
hour, to do the assignment, but what if we have other homework ? 

When I have worked an hour or two after school, I grow tired, rather 
silly and restless, I am unable to concentrate, and my work the next day is 
very poor. 

Even a Sophomore could see that the more subjects we take, the more 
recreation we ought to have, yet the exact opposite is true. We have more 
assignments which means more work. 

If we must have homework, some system should be arranged so that 
pupils taking the largest number of subjects should have the least homework. 

We, the pupils, urge that a new system be established, so that the coming 
generation may escape from the drudgery and long hour of toil which it is 
our lot to endure. —Barbara Cosgrove, '38 


M (% Age SJtmtt ©f Ailflrtira 3mx? 

* A year ago, a rule was handed down by the principals of high schools, 
barring all boys, nineteen or over from all school athletic teams. The injustice 
of this rule can be easily conceived. Many boys have lost a year of school 
on account of misfortune. Sickness, accidents, and family circumstances which 
hindered the child from entering school at the required age are only some 
of the unfortunate situations which are depriving students from giving their 
athletic services to the school. Boys aspiring to be athletes have had their 
athletic careers stopped. Not only students have voiced their disapproval 
but high school coaches as well, who state their respective teams have been 
greatly weakened. A boy reaching his senior year, expecting it to be his 
greatest in athletics, finds himself ineligible; thus the coach has to look for 
someone less experienced to fill the vacancy. 

This enforcement does, however, keep "college boys" from participating 
in high school athletics. This rule is primarily for those boys who have no 
regard for scholastic achievements or who fail to live up to the standard of 
the school. Why not bar only those boys who have failed scholastically and 
not those who have been unfortunate? g Helin '38 

* Twenty -Nine 


(Eampu0 Glljatfrr 

Louise Benedetti, '37, is at Boston University, C.L.A., and Frances London, 
a classmate, is at the P.A.L. division of the same college. 

Herbert Coffman, '36, is another alumnus at Boston University. He 
has elected the C.B.A. course. 

John Bone, President of the class of '37, and William Butt, '37, are now 
studying at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. 

Teaching still seems to be the most popular feminine vocation, for 
Bridgewater State Teachers' College has enfolded such students as Betty Milne, 
Amelia Acebo, Dorothy Stoler, Mary Ellard, Fannie Szathmary, Lora Von 
Bergen, and Norma Wolfe, and Framingham Teachers' College has claimed 
June Catler and Stella Smith, all from the class of '37. Barbara Dobbyn, '36, 
is Treasurer of the sophomore class at Bridgewater. 

Northeastern University is attended by Fred Hoffstein, Walter Skoglund, 
William Steele and Paul Haynes, all of '37, and Russell Ross, '36. 

Bernard Collins, '37, is a member of the freshman class at Holy Cross. 

Betty Nelson and Virginia Salorio, '37, report that they are members 
of the Y-Club at Simmons College, and Shirley Bean and Madeline Shipsey 
are doing well in their studies as members of the freshman class. 

Marie Gillette and Miriam Colburn, '37, are attending Colby Junior 

Sidney Brick, '37, is a freshman at Colby College. 

Bruce Marshall, '36, is enrolled at Clemson Military Academy, South 
Carolina, where he is taking an engineering course. 

Parks Hunt, '35, is studying for the ministry at the Gordon Bible College. 

The Varsity track meet at Harvard was won this year by Carlton 
Crotty, '36. 

Mabel Coy, well known Secretary of the class of '37, has moved to 
Houlton, Maine, where she is enrolled at Ricker Junior College. 

• Thirty 

Margaret Morin and Newton MacLeod of '36 are making exceptional 
records in their studies at Radcliffe and Harvard. Both are recipients of 
scholarships for their sophomore years in recognition of high scholastic 

Arthur Johnston, '33, a senior in the College of Engineering, North- 
eastern University, has been chosen Vice-President of the Student Council 
for 1938. 

Out for Business 

Lila Peterson, '37, is attending the Massachusetts School of Art, and 
Esther Wallin, '36, is studying fashion-illustrating at the same school. 

Jose Acebo and Douglas Bailey, '37, are attending the Bentley School 
of Accounting. 

Bertha Leppanen, Vice-President of the class of '36, is in training at 
the New England Baptist Hospital. 

Jean Donaldson, '37, is in New York, where she is studying for the stage. 

Toini Tirri, '37, is a student at Wilfred Academy. 

Musk Notes 
Warren Freeman, June '29, formerly Director of Music at Hyannis 
Teachers' College, is now Director of Music in Belmont, Mass. Mr. Freeman 
and Miss Harriet Barbour, daughter of a former Superintendent of Schools in 
Quincy, a graduate of Q.H.S. in 1919, and the author of several books, have 
recently published a book on music. 

Alfred Starrett, '34, is choir director at the Boylston Street Congregational 
Church, Jamaica Plain. 

Louise Rood, June '32, and Dorothy Firmani, Feb. '32, are cellist and 
violinist in the Trio D'Or. 

Eleanor Lindquist, '36, is at present playing in the MacDowell Orchestra. 

Francis Tatro, June '31, a graduate of the New England Conservatory, 
is the director of music in Franklin, New Hampshire, and is also teaching in 

The Working World 

John Lewis Miller, June '21, is the new Superintendent of Schools in 
Brockton, Mass. 

John Marshall, '32, Bowdoin College '36, is now working in Mobile, 

Marion Fuller, '33, Bridgewater State Teachers' College '37, is teaching 
school in Attleboro, Mass. 

Marion Myrbeck, popular member of the class of '36, is working for 
the Kistler Leather Company. 

Carl Nielson, '36, is on the staff of the "Quincy Patriot Ledger." 

Phyllis Papagni, '33, is employed in the main office of the Bethlehem 
Shipbuilding Corporation. 

Frederick Harvey, January '31, Northeastern University '37, received the 
degree Bachelor of Science in Chemical Engineering with Honor. He is 
now employed by the Calco Chemical Company of Bound Brook, New Jersey. 

Warren Kirkland, June '32, Northeastern University '37, received the 
degree Bachelor of Science in Industrial Engineering. He is employed by the 
Monroe Steam Turbine Company. 

• Thirty-One 

"Ifyat 3 Snjog Mast At QlnUegp" 

Impressions from the Class of '37 

"Perhaps the most outstanding feature of the Forsyth Dental Infirmary 
is the stress laid on the professional manner." 

Constance Viner, Forsyth Dental Infirmary 

"All I can say is that I would enjoy being back in Q.H.S., for in my three 
years there I had one swell time. fames Whelan, Holy Cross College 

"What I enjoy most is the dormitory life. They have wonderful contests 
to offer, a wide variety of amusements and grand food." 

Lois Walker, Skidmore 

"What I enjoy most at college is college. There are so many fine things 
that a lowly freshman is confused and held in awe." Ronald Vanelli, Harvard 

"I enjoy especially the sports in which we participate, and the swimming 
pool of which the college is so proud." 

Alice Evans, University of North Carolina 

"The many splendid acquaintances I have made have impressed me most 
of all. I am hoping to join the orchestra." Edward Immar, Suffolk Law School 

"I enjoy almost everything at college. I've made the first Glee Club and 
joined the Athletic Association." fune Catler, Framingham 

"I enjoy my secretarial course, living in a different section of the country, 
and, of course, sports." Ruth Young, Alma College, Toronto 

"It was one of the greatest thrills I've ever had to sing the Maine 'Stein 
Song' for the first time as a member of the University." 

Hugh Lusk, University of Maine 

"I derive the most enjoyment from contacts with such interesting people 
as the great Cyrus Dallin." Eunice DeWolfe, Massachusetts School of Art 

"Outside of Amherst, I find English Literature and Psychology so absorb- 
ing that college life is both busy and most interesting. 

Genevieve Ash, Smith 

"Everything about college is perfect. I think the friends I've made are 
the nicest part of all." Kathleen Moran, Regis 

"While making a detailed study of Benny Goodman, I never-the-less 
find time for bull-sessions, but still find it most difficult to lose weight." 

Jack Crosby, Brown 

"It's fun just being a Freshman, even though we did have to wear green 
hair ribbons until Thanksgiving." P e ggy Brown, Jackson 

"So far initiation week was what I enjoyed most. It all added to the 
air of informality and friendliness at college." Virginia Grossman, Sargent 

"I find dorm' life loads of fun. I have gone out for archery and basket- 
ball." Edna Brown, Bridgeivater 

"I was very much impressed by the spirit of friendliness, and I have 
joined the dramatic club here." Bette Cutler, Boston University 

* Thirty-Two 

To the Student Body: 

At the close of a season that was gratifying to the coaches in many respects, 
it is indeed a pleasure to express a few thoughts concerning football at our 
school. Our past season was pleasing to the coaches because of the consistent 
improvement shown by the team during the course of the campaign. All 
credit is due to the boys who worked so hard improving themselves in order 
that they might represent Quincy High School in a creditable manner. Their 
spirit and loyalty are highly commendable. 

A second thought concerns the student body. Your whole-hearted support 
of the boys who represented you on the football field was certainly noticed 
and appreciated. Loyalty to your school and its activities and a genuine interest 
in its welfare will help you to enjoy your school life. It will also encourage 
boys to do their utmost to warrant your interest in them. With the continued 
rise in spirit at our school it is inevitable that we shall all enjoy ourselves more 
in all our activities. 

It is difficult to say a great deal concerning the future. However, after 
reviewing the progress made in the past few months, it is not too difficult 
to visualize a football team of which you can be justly proud, and for which 
we hope you will continue to cheer. The coaches have great confidence in 
the future success of Quincy High School football teams and we hope their 
efforts warrant your encouragement. Sincerely 


To the Pupils of Quincy High School: 

The basketball squad has been practising since the Thanksgiving vacation, 
and rapid strides have been made. It will take time before any definite lineup 
is established, as I shall have to become acquainted with the abilities, initia- 
tive and idiosyncracies of the candidates. There are many seniors with an 
average amount of ability, but, to date, no one can be classified as a star. That, 
however, can be expected for the boys must first become acquainted with the 
type of offense and defense they are to use this season. They are concen- 
trating now on the fundamentals of the system. 

I have been asked by many, "What kind of a team are we going to have 
this year?" and invariably my answer has been, "I don't know because I haven't 
worked with the boys long enough to predict." 

I doubt very much that we are going to be a tournament team, but, 
judging from the spirit of the boys, our opponents will have to be A-l if 
they are going to defeat us. 

We promise our school supporters one thing, and that is thirty-two 
minutes of Basketball, provided our team receives the inspiration a team needs 
to nose out an equal opponent in a close game. To this end we ask your 
loyal support, and if that given the football team is any criterion, we have 
every reason to believe it will be forthcoming. 

Sincerely yours, 


• Thirty-Three 

w'vnJuw uo\of<* P«s*«- — 



Laft>< J'.lifjTouce — 3 prffesr 
Sass t-e«wer.....' 

me*«. «mi twit* 



^•« fina TMtfVTiji'no Ulfav coitTmI !. 


j&QQB BptttU 


Starting off a new era of foot- 
ball under Harry Downes and Mon- 
roe McLean, Quincy High's new 
football coaches, the team completed 
the first successful grid season in the 
past three years. The Quincyites 
gained wins over Braintree, Brook- 
line, Weymouth and Fitchburg. Chel- 
sea, Newton and Class A Brockton 
handed the locals losses. Attleboro 
and North Quincy fought Quincy 
to scoreless stalemates. The opposi- 
tion outscored Quincy 87 to 72. 

Leading the scorers was George 
Comi with 24 points. Ed Broderick 
had 19; Henry Barsella scored 7. 
Others who figured in the scoring 
were Harold Bertoni, Al Mountain, 
Johnnie Salvucci, John Joyce, and 
Captain Monte Marchant. 

Bright lights in the Quincy lineup 
all year long were Cecil Kilrain, Cap- 
tain Monte Marchant, and Gordon 
Howley. These three boys started 
every game, and their playing was 
of the highest calibre. 

Coach Downes presented his first 
Quincy High football team at Brain- 
tree, where Quincy won over the 
Braintreeites by a 14-0 score. There 
Mountain and Comi made great runs 
to score. Joyce kicked two successful 

The red-clad Brookline High grid- 
sters were the second to fall before 
Quincy, this time by a 12-0 margin, 
George Comi and Ed Broderick go- 
ing over the last stripe for Quincy. 

Fate began to take hold as the 
Red Devils from Chelsea High 
crushed Quincy by 27-13 after a hard 
battle. The team continued to slump 

as Class C Attleboro held Quincy to 
a scoreless contest which featured 
the brilliant playing of both teams' 
linemen. Next week, Class A New- 
ton, paced by hammering Guido Cas- 
toldi, handed Quincy a sound 21-0 
beating. Taking advantage of 
"breaks," Newton built up an early 
lead which they never relinquished. 

Making their third appearance on 
South Shore soil, the Quincyites 
outplayed Weymouth High to win 
6-0. This game saw Ed Broderick 
go over for the winning score. Comi's 
punting against the wind was one of 
the features of the game. 

North Quincy was next on the list, 
and the verdict went down into the 
books as a scoreless tie. Both teams 
had a chance to score, but the chances 
were "muffed." 

Fitchburg was next to feel the 
wrath of the ravaging Blues who, 
unaccustomed to mud, ran wild to 
beat the upstaters by 27-7. Johnnie 
Salvucci and Eddie Kroesser were 
badly injured. 

The final game of the season saw 
the Class A leaders, and also 
Quincy's greatest rivals, Brockton 
High, taking the Granite City lads 
into camp easily, chalking up a 32-0 
score. Captain Frankie Saba of 
Brockton was brilliant, scoring three 
times. Sam Franco and Bernie Gold 
also tallied for the red-outfitted boys. 

We expect great things next year 
from the junior class players, Myr- 
beck, Comi, Kroesser, De Santis, 
Mullen, Mollica, Di Bona and Ber- 
toni, and sophomores Jack Kilrain, 
Pecce, Pettenelli, and Ed Buckley. 

• Thirty-Five 

logs' BpovU 


Harold Walton, '40 

The Quincy High Junior Varsity 
football team started the 1937 season 
by journeying to Braintree where they 
topped the Wampatucks 6 to 0. 
Johnnie Salvucci went over for the 
score after Quincy had made a march 
down the field. The following week 
the Jayvees played Milton to a 13-13 
stalemate. Dobbyn and Parziale 
tallied for Quincy. Returning to Mil- 
ton shortly after for another game, 
the Quincyites were badly outclassed 
and lost 19-0. This seemed to hurt 
their vanity, and they promptly tram- 
pled over Thayer Academy, winning 
26-0. The team ran wild in that 
encounter with Dobbyn, Sansatini, 
Winslow, and Patten counting. 

The next week saw the all im- 
portant game between Brockton and 
Quincy. Although they fought 
staunchly, Quincy was humbled by 
20-7. Bob Dobbyn rang up the only 
Quincy score. 

The season was due to close the 
next week after the Weymouth 
game. Weymouth, considered a 
strong eleven, succumbed to the lo- 
cals by 19-0. The feature of the 
game was Shine Buckley's 50 yard 
sprint for a touchdown. Sansatini 
and Banks also scored. 

Orchids to Mr. Hudson for his 
splendid work with the Junior Var- 
sity throughout the season. Outstand- 
ing mail carriers were Bob Dobbyn, 
Shine Buckley, and Babe Sansatini. 
Considering everything, Quincy 
High's Junior Varsity did an excel- 
lent job in winning three, losing two, 
and tying one. 


Harold Walton, '40 

With a good group of puck chas- 
ers coming back from last year's 
Quincy High hockey team, the out- 
look for this season is very bright. 
Practice began about the first of De- 
cember with Captain Bill Maver, a 
wingman, leading the list of return- 
ing veterans. Others who saw action 
last year and who are out for the 
team are Charlie Winslow and John- 
ny Parziale, who are both juniors 
and play the wing position. Fred 
De Rico and Dave Pitman, two ex- 
perienced goaltenders, will battle for 
that place. Ed Mullen will be seek- 
ing a defense berth. The Smith 
brothers, Roy and Dave, will be out 
for defense and center spots. 

Others who look impressive are 
Gordon Howley, Kennie Norming- 
ton, Charlie Erwin, Al Johnson, Ed 
Broderick, John McDonald, and Ken 
Morton. Coach Hudson has ex- 
pressed his joy over the way the 
team is shaping up. 

The team was scheduled to open 
the season on the Saturday before 
Christmas against Walpole, whom 
Quincy won over and tied last year. 

In Captain Maver, the team has 
an experienced leader. Maver was 
a first string man on last year's sex- 
tet, showing up so well that he was 
elected to lead this year's team. Fred 
De Rico, a goalie, was one of the 
best at that position in the Bay State 

• Thirty-Six 

leys* BpxttU 


Another year has passed, and still 
Brockton continues to beat our 
Quincy High gridsters. This year 
the score was 32-0 for the Shoe City 

Orchids to Coaches Harry Downes 
and Monroe MacLean for the way 
in which they handled our first suc- 
cessful Q.H.S. football team in three 
years. Next year we shall have a 
better team, we hope. 

Congratulation, Coach Wilson, for 
the great cross-country team that you 
produced, winning eight and losing 
one. This season, Captain Quilty, 
Howard Hatch, Gordon Rowe, and 
Captains-Elect Sibbald and Simpson, 
were outstanding runners. 

Private operator 9% reports that 
Tubber Tropea, chubby football 
guard, says that he puts on poundage 
by eating spaghetti. George Comi, 
known as the leader of the Barbary 
Coast, enjoys eating sandwiches after 

With two sports already successes, 
in as far as wins and losses go, more 
are expected to follow. Both Varsity 
and Junior Varsity football teams 
hung up good records, while X- 
country was more than successful, 
winning eight meets and losing one, 
to Brockton. 

To the "Quincy Patriot Ledger" 
sports department we extend a hearty 
"thank you." Throughout the sea- 
son the editor, Don Vincent, did a 
fine job in keeping our school in the 
limelight, covering long practice ses- 
sions and all games in rain or sun- 
shine. May Mr. Vincent continue as 
sports editor for many years to come. 


Armando Reggiannini, '40 

Under the leadership of Coach 
George A. Wilson and Captain 
Roger Quilty, the Quincy High 
cross-country team completed one of 
the greatest sessions in the Blue and 
White history, winning eight and los- 
ing one. The lone loss was handed 
them by Brockton by a 26-30 score 
at Brockton. 

In the opening contest of the year, 
the Quincy boys barely defeated Ar- 
lington by a score of 27-28, and also 
beat Northeastern University fresh- 
men by the same eyelash score. The 
first home encounter of the season 
was easily taken from Milton by a 
score of 21-37. This meet was fea- 
tured by having Quilty, Rowe, Sib- 
bald and Simpson finish in a tie for 
first place. The boys brought home 
another close win fr^m M.I.T. fresh- 
men at Franklin Park, 27-29. Again 
appearing on the Quincy course, the 
locals easily ate up Sandwich High, 
crunching them to the tune of 15-40. 
The Quincyites pinned a sound de- 
feat on Weymouth by a 17-40 mar- 
gin. The Blues also trounced Brain- 
tree by the score of 23-32, and nar- 
rowly won over North Quincy by 
27-29. In the New England meet at 
Providence, Quincy finished eleventh. 

The boys who showed up well 
throughout the past season were 
Captain Roger Quilty, Gordon Rowe, 
Howard Hatch, and Co-Captains- 
Elect Dave Simpson and Alex Sib- 

• Thirty-Seven 

logs' BpttvtB 


Wrestling should reach a new high 
in sports this winter as Coach Leland 
Anderson is ready to introduce his 
'37-'38 product. Coming back this 
year for grappling are seven veterans, 
Bernie Paolucci, Archie Brown, Bus- 
ter Milchunes, Irving Liss, Tony 
Mollica, Wally Griffin and Ray Di 
Bona. Many other aspirants are ex- 

Paolucci is expected to go out for 
the 118 pound division as is Archie 
Brown. Both boys were regulars 
last year, Paolucci in the 118's and 
Brown in the 110's. Buster Mil- 
chunes will probably move from the 
118 class to the 126 and is expected 
to do a favorable job. Irving Liss 
will hold down the 165 pound class, 
provided he can make the weight. 
Liss, a big boy, has put on pounds 
since last year. Tony Mollica, fresh 
from football, will be out to get Dick 
Fee's vacated 145 pound spot, while 
Wally Griffin will compete with 
Tony for the place. Ray Di Bona 
will step out of the 126 class to 135 


The team should be one of the best 
in the state. Irving Milchunes, a 
three year veteran, has been elected 
captain for this season. Milchunes 
was state champion in the 100 pound 
class in his sophomore year. 


Joseph Cauljield, '40 

Having shaped up the basketball 
situation for a few weeks, Coach 
Munroe MacLean issued a call for 
his first Quincy High School hoop 
aspirants in the closing days of No- 
vember. With a few veterans return- 
ing, Coach MacLean has something 
to start with. A few of those veter- 
ans are Johnny Joyce, Ralph Gra- 
ham, Frank Giachetti, Fred DeSantis, 
Cecil Kilrain, Henry Barsella, Bob 
Dobbyn, Vernon Levinson, Francis 
Ranieri, and Ed Leahy. A blow was 
rendered to the team's hopes when it 
was revealed that last year's captain, 
Bob Comporato, was ineligible be- 
cause of the age limit. 

Last season's sophomore players, 
with such worthies as George Page, 
Art Mackie, George Johnson, Ed 
Kusser, Vernie Johnson, Al Moun- 
tain, Archie DiTullio and Nick Pepe 
are expected to give the veterans a 
merry battle for all positions on the 

There are also members of last 
year's junior high school teams who 
are not to be disregarded. Among 
the most promising are Jackie Petti- 
nelli, All Star forward, and Russ 
Patten, center, from Point; from 
South come All Star forward Babe 
Sansatini, Gino Petitti, Shine Buck- 
ley, and Sonny Nicholson, guards; 
Dick Hansen and Ken Morton rep- 
resent Central. 

• Thirty-Eight 

dStrLs' BpxtvtB 


* Though the use of bow and arrow dates 
back over two thousand years, the Indians 
were best-known of those people who used 
them. Nowadays, archery has become a 
popular modern sport for developing poise, 
grace and strength. From the first day of 
its introduction in our school, archery proved 
of great interest to the girls in Quincy High, 
and over one hundred have attended prac- 
tice. Their splendid co-operation with Miss 
Baker and her student assistants, Marjorie 
Goodwin, Pat Estes, Betty Carter and Betty 
Wylie, have proven that they are grateful 
to the School Committee for this new sport. 


"A sissy's sport," calls someone, but that someone is mistaken. Though 
ping-pong has not the physical requirements of many sports, it has others, 
such as steadiness of hand and swiftness of thought, which are much harder 
to acquire. 

Of the many proficient girls who play, M. Burns, B. Merrill, M. Erickson, 
F. Kramer, E. Robinson, C. Salverio, E. Mandelli, K. Caron, D. Sawyer, F. 
Surette, E. Nimmo and M. Goodwin have shown the most exceptional talent. 
These girls have already started on their second round of wins and promise 
to continue their good, steady, fast style of sport. 


* Why did Quincy High have a very successful football season ? More 
boys reported to practice, Coach Downes and the team have worked hard, 
and last, but not least, the cheering and enthusiasm of the fans have increased 
one hundred per cent. 

Our cheerleaders, John Bates, Tom DeCaro, Ken Jenkins, Al Shannon, 
Margery Moran, Pearl Raiche and Lucille Rigo and substitutes, John Laukkanen, 
Charlie Winslow, Dorothea Norton and Lena DeCesare, who were under the 
capable leadership of Misses Palmer and Jenkins, have done exceptionally 
fine work. 

Not only have they officiated at games, but also have planned and carried 
off three rallies. The blue and white outfits, too, have brought favorable 
comments from all. 

Rah! Rah! Rah! Cheerleaders! 

• Thirty-Nine 

Uljat M ftfur (greatest Unrrg? 

Virginia Swans on, '38, 

Cecil Kilrain 

Traffic; the girls pick on me. 

Miss Barry 

Falling down stairs. 

Dick Sager 

Where my next nickel is coming 

Mr. McKeown 
Getting my lunch. 

Buddy Spargo 
Keeping on the first football team 
— and— B-B-B-Brockton. 

John Tropea 

Dancing. How can I ask a girl to 
dance when I can't lead ? 

Mr. O'Brien 

Trying to keep thin. 

Ralph Graham 

Getting bald. I've got dandruff. 

Miss Marr 
Golden Rod. 

Billy Ferguson 

Going over to Coddington; brrr — 
it's cold! 

Mr. Wilson 

Never worry; if you don't believe 
me, ask my wife. 

Mr. Collins 

Getting through cafeteria period 
every day. 

Mr. Lee 

I don't worry for the Golden Rod; 
I worry for I ! 

Al Shannon 

Planning the North-Quincy rally. 

June MacLeod 

Keeping my nose from getting red. 

and Clare Ward, '38 

Jo Ward 

My stomach; it's always empty. 

Miss McGraw 

Ringing the Coddington bells. 

Ray DiBona 

Girls; will I ever understand them? 

Ruth Sturrock 

Preventing runs in my silk stock- 

Mr. Downes 

Mr. Anderson 

Whether or not my child has got 
the chicken-pox. 

Jack Kilrain 
My right eye. 

Mr. Deane 

Students; I wish they could tell 
their right hand from their left 
hand, and be able to follow traffic 

Sonny Cedrone 

Edward Broderick 

Monty Marchant 

My sleep; I go to bed every night 
at 8:30. 

Lena DeCesare 

Keeping my latest boy friend. 

Dot Norton 

My report card. 

Pearl Raiche 
John Murray. 

John Bates 

Making the next period. 

• Forty 

Ah W? gw 3t 


Who said his traffic position was dull? 
Mine gives me much over which to mull, 
Like latest loves and football scores, 
Lines, and what's to be seen in stores. 

And sometimes a latest song or two, 
Or just why he and she are through. 
I learn Robert Taylor is simply divine, 
And the circle's not tangent to the line. 

An opinion is offered that "she's a mess," 
While the latest dirt "you'd never guess!" 
And ' ' the history test was simply terrible ! ' ' 
"My dear, her gown just isn't wearable!" 

That loving pair I cannot hear, 
But I won't bother to lend an ear, 
For the tender words are just the same 
As those he says to every dame. 

Thus with three minutes of standing there, 
I feel quite qualified to bear 
The banners of Winchell and a host 
Like Pythagorus, Dix and Emily Post. 

Diana Taplin, '38 

X?' \ 




'(?/77i? , 


There's always a pooch in the corridors, 
There's always a howling din, 
There's always a line in the library, 
When the crowd starts filing in. 

There's always a jam in the lunchroom, 
When we stand for hours in line, 
Itching to grab a sandwich, 
Or trying to change a dime. 

There's always a dash for the tables, 
To save ten places for eight, 
And twenty minutes to hash over 
Somebody's latest date. 

There's always a classroom boner, 
And a wise-cracking classroom wit, 
And a teacher to hold the class over 
While everyone's throwing a fit. 

There's always a crowd at the pony, 
When the 2:30 bell's gone by. 
Now do you know what I 'm talking about ? 
Dear old Quincy High! 

Helen Johnson, '38 

• Forty-One 

IwiratAlWftrvtravwwIWWIWinfvuv^wywtfWwwwtfVtfWtfWtfVUh'wwwwvvwbuWtfWtfb .iw*b* wvuvwUMWMWwvwv^b'wbw h>* vwuriwwww*v* who^u-* w« uiJ w^ brfb* www vu v^ww wv»z 







Five Years From Graduation 

Will you be well established in a good job? 

Will you be shifting from job to job because you can't 

find the work you want. 
Will you be just out of college, without any business 

training to sell an employer? 

Plan your future now. You will need training to be a doctor, 

lawyer, teacher . . . and business training if 

you plan to enter business. 



334 Boylston Street, BOSTON 
at the "ARLINGTON" subway station Telephone KENmore 6789 














Home Cooked Luncheon and Dinners 
served daily in our Restaurant. 

In our Food Shop you will find 
delicious bread and cakes for your 

Private Dining Room available for 
Special Dinners. 

1237 Hancock Street 
Quincy, Mass. 

Telephone Granite 3698 


Quality Always 


III Summer St., Boston, Mass. 
Woolworth Bldg., Providence, R. I. 



xMlKA IVamiKA 

• ttHii juiij . i»i«,i„<, C0WH1 

. itiiMt • viUffl wo»n 

■ 'M'.-.M . HlftU tO*-5 

• tiul Hi. Mi Com • M>0UMAIDS tOW«5 

- HMitt hmnii itouuu • 'nil r*ocu 




" 9re.UB. 7930 



' ' ' CASPEt 3447 . 




Patronize Golden Rod Advertisers 

wy r?rer MWMv r-i w r v i v i v i v i yrsTO ^ ^ ^ 

Give a Thought - Jq ^ FUTURE 

HAVE you thought of the time when you will be ready to take your place 
in the world of industry? Have you picked the career you wish to follow? 

Why not, then follow the example of 
many other New England girls . . . choose 
Beauty Culture, the profession that in- 
sures success . . . that means good posi- 
tions — a professional career and a pleasing 

The Wilfred Academy of Hair and Beauty 
Culture is an ethical school manned by a 
faculty of world famous authorities in 

all branches of hair design and beauty 
culture. It thoroughly trains you to be- 
come an accredited professional. 

A Wilfred diploma enjoys unequaled pres- 
tige with beauty experts everywhere. 

It entitles ycu to respect and honor and 
it is a guarantee that you are well versed 
in all the fundamentals of this fascinating 

Call, write or phone for illustrated booklet 9E Day and Evening Classes. 

Register now, so that you may be sure of a place in our classes 

the day after your school term is over. 



492 Boylston St., Boston, Mass. KENmore 7286 

How would you like a Cozy 

Study Room or a Play 

Room of your own. 

• You'll be surprised to find how 
easy it is to Convert Waste Space in 
the Attic or Basement into an Extra 
Room for study or for play. It costs 
very little .... and it can be paid for 
by the month. Ask Mother or Dad 
to bring this ad to us ... . and we'll 
talk it over with them. 

Spare Room in Attic — Insulating 
Board 3c Sq. Foot 

Play Room in Basement — Wall 
Board 2l/ 2 c Sq. Foot 


130 Granite St., Quincy, Mass. 

Telephone President 7100 

Quincy 's Most Modernly 
Equipped Printing Plant 





Plant and Office 


Telephone President 7171 



Patronize Golden Rod Advertisers 

: Telephone Connection 



Jewelry and Gift Shop 

\ Gifts for all occasions 

1462 Hancock Street 
Quincy, Mass. 

Compliments of 


South Shore Buick Co. 

Hancock and Adams Streets 

Quincy, Mass. 


Telephone Granite 4520 








For Your Good Health 


R. E. FOY & SONS, Inc. 

: 1177 Hancock St. 39 Franklin St. 

Pres. 1234 Pres. 24IO 

\ Compliments of 

West Quincy Shoe Repair Shop 

\ 249 Copeland Street W. Quincy, Mass. 
Antonio Pelligrini, Prop. 


Cleansers, Dyers and Tailors j 
253 Copeland Street W. Quincy, Mass. 
Tel. Granite 6894-R 

D. Quintiliani, Prop. 

Tel. Granite 4278 Prompt Delivery 





1 333 Quarry Street West Quincy, Mass. 
Frank Montani, Prop. 


246 Copeland Street W. Quincy, Mass. 
For Appointments call Granite 9894-M 

Tecla Comis, Manager 



: Compliments of 



398 Quarry Street West Quincy, Mass. 

hanlon corset shop 

Style and Surgical Fittings 
1363 Hancock Street 
Quincy, Mass. 
TELEPHONE GRAnite 0893 j 


\ Compliments of 




■ 248 Copeland Street Quincy, Mass. 


1371 Hancock Street 

Homemade Ice Cream 

and Tasty Sandwiches 


J.||j.^MJ.IJ.lJ.I.I.IJ.rmxr.W.LMAIAttlJJJJ.U.I.IALI,UJ.I.Ll.l.r.lJ.IJj.L 1/ j l ij. | JJ; 

Patronize Golden Rod Advertisers 

■ , .| V I V I VPi 1V t y i y i y i y|yr,T. <i y i< .My i ^ 


(Owned and Operated by Mrs. John Hall) 
19 Cottage Avenue, Quincy, Mass. 

Established 1870 
Telephone President 2670 

Specializing in... 


We appreciate your patronage 


1479 Hancock St. 

Gra. 171 l-W 


Used Furniture Bought and Sold 


96 Washington Street Quincy, Mass. 

Tel. Granite 3668-M 


12 - 4x6 Mounted I - 4x6 Glossy $3.50 
I - 8xlO Colored and Framed $I.OO extra 


364 Hancock Street Quincy, Mass. 

Telephone President 2247 

Compliments of 


Quincy, Mass. 

Prescription Work a Specialty 


C_y4 Complete Optical Service 

7 Depot Street 
Tel. Pres. 0974 Quincy, Mass. 


of Portraiture Unusual 

Offers Special Prices to Graduates 

You can save at least 30% by 
having your graduation pictures 
made by your local photographer 

Our New Address 
39 Temple St. Quincy, Mass. 

Telephone President 0565 


Secured by girls completing courses 
on Comptometers, Burroughs Calculators, 
Elliott Fisher Billing, Dictaphones, Type- 
writing. Day and evening. Enroll any 
Monday. Diplomas and free placement 
for graduates. Positions have been ob- 
tained for all our graduates to date. 



"The School of Positions" 



Telephone President 5600 
RUTH R. WEST, Manager Open Friday Evening 

Carroll's Cut-Rate Perfume Shop 

Patent Medicines and Gifts 
Tel. Granite 0939 1419 Hancock Street 


Patterson Flower Stores 

Elsie M. Patterson, Proprietor 


Quincy Store — 1259 Hancock Street 
GRAnite 0392W 



fcvii.Mm i .M;.i.M.Mmimi.M.M.M,;j,!jmi.v^^ 

Patronize Golden Rod Advertisers 

ma^j B3B35ESg3BSBSfflSB5^B™B^g^g^BSBB3BB!EBfflffi^BSl^gfflBgB^S5IBEBBEaBlEBI^^^na 3EBE 



Professional weather forecaster for 
the New England area, is foretelling 
that "the coming Winter will be 
colder than normal with snow which 
will last through." 

with a pair of 


in White, Brown or Elk Skin 


1433 Hancock St. Quincy, Mass. 

Next to Lincoln Stores Phone Gra. 5275-w 


Sporting Goods 

Equipment for every sport 

1555 Hancock Street 


The exchange of Photographs with 

Classmates keeps school-day friendship 

for all time. 

Our special school styles will appeal to you 




17 School Street, Quincy, Mass. 

Telephone Granite 0552-J 

&> SONS 

Choice Fruits 

and Groceries 

Candy and Fruit by Telegraph 


TELEPHONE PREsident 6960 


Window Shades and Screens 
Venetian Blinds 

26 School Street Quincy, Mass. 

Tel. Pres. 6307 

Carriker Motor Co. 

DeSoto and Plymouth Cars 

Also Dependable Used Cars 

68 Washington Street 

Telephone Granite 4730 


5» M Wl M W» M Art Art Art Art Art Art Art Art Art Art Art Art Art Art Art Art Art Art Art Art Art Art Art Art A rt Art Art Art Art Art Art Art Art Art Art Art Art Art Art Art Art Art Art Art A* Afl Art Art A* Art Art A* Art Art Art ArtArt Art Art Art A* 

Patronize Golden Rod Advertisers 



$1.00 WEEKLY 

, m .ivi.,.ri-iviviv»vivi'Pi'fiviviTiviviYivivi , riYiviTri'L , iTi , rrivivi.Yiyr : 




Tourist Agency 












At Published Tariff Rates 






12 Maple Street 

8 Depot St. Quincy, Mass. 

"The Sign Says Typewriters" 

Telephone Granite 0051 




Spic <S* Span Barber Shop 

A shop that sells and caters i 

234 Copeland St., West Quincy 



Home Baked Beans and Brown Bread j 


Does he sterilize his scissors, combs, and razors? 



We comply with the Mass. Barber License for our patrons safety 

25 Granite Street Quincy 

\ IT PAYS TO LOOK WELL - Give me a fry 

Opposite Free Parking Space j 


Open till 6 p. m. Saturdays 10 p. m. ; 


We carry S. S. Pierce canned goods 



Silent Glow Dealer for 5 Years 

\ Demonstration until 9 P. M. 

11 If we made it, if s right" 





Ralph Chiminello, Mgr. 


121 Water Street : Quincy, Mass. 


Telephone Granite 1361 



73 Tremont Street Boston, Mass. E 


Patronize Golden Rod Advertisers 


QUfwcy. mas T \ol R f £ J 

lwtwlww ^ > ^ t ^^ twt ^ |Wtwwtwtwwlw| ^^ WMtnt|n)ywtniW<wttwy ^ ywwvy¥tn<w ^ tf ^ VVh<Ml<tfMW •/■■>/* fcy^^/wt ,tf*tfMMHtfwwy*yMtf*wv*twiraiwwimtfwiA»t/»in*iniyxj£ 



by our State Registered Graduate Optometrist 

Every modern scientific instrument 
insures the accuracy of the most thorough 
refraction possible. 

We deliver lenses and frames of first 
quality ONLY. 

Our prices for eyeglasses are very 

50 cents down and 50 cents a week 
will pay for your glasses. 


1509 Hancock Street 

Telephone Granite 5094 

Quincy, Mass. 


Engraving Co. 


Thoroughly Experienced in High 
School and College Publications 
and Yearbooks. 

394 Atlantic Avenue 

Telephone HANcock 9546 


Dodge — Plymouth 


7 Independence Avenue 
Braintree, Mass. 



for the best hosiery 


beautiful lingerie 

1500 Hancock Street 
Quincy, Mass. 

Patronize Golden Rod Advertisers 



College of Liberal Arts 

Offers a broad program of college subjects serving as a foundation for the under- 
standing of modern culture, social relations, and technical achievement. The purpose of 
this program is to give the student a liberal and cultural education and a vocational 
competence which fits him to enter some specific type of useful employment. 

College of Business Administration 

Offers a college program with broad and thorough training in the principles of 
business with specialization in ACCOUNTING, BANKING AND FINANCE, or BUSI- 
NESS MANAGEMENT. Instruction is through lectures, solution of business problem?, 
class discussions, motion pictures and talks by business men. 

College of Engineering 

Provides complete college programs in Engineering with professional courses in the 
NEERING, and ENGINEERING ADMINISTRATION. Students select, at the begin- 
ning of the sophomore year, the course in which they intend to specialize. 

Co-operative Plan 

The Co-operative Plan provides for a combination of practical industrial experience 
with classroom instruction. Upperclassmen earn a portion of their school expenses and 
make business contacts which prove valuable in later years. 

Bachelor of Arts 

Degrees Awarded 


Bachelor of Science 

(For Men and Women) 

Providing complete courses of university grade, for high school graduates who find it 
necessary to work during the day but wish to study for further advancement. 

School of Business 

Programs in Accounting, Management, 
Law and Business, and in Engineering 
and Business, under instructors actu- 
ally engaged in the fields in which they 

73% of graduates hold executive posi- 
tions in business. Preparation for the 
C. P. A. examinations. School grants 
B. B. A. degree. Individual courses 
available to special students. 

School of Law 

Pre-Legal Department 
Furnishes to high school graduates a 
program of studies equivalent to the 
two years of college work required for 
admission to the study of law. 

The School of Law 

Prepares for the bar examination and 
for the practice of law. Case method 
of instruction. LL.B. degree conferred. 

Graduates of Quincy High School may be admitted without examinations if grades are 

satisfactory to the Department of Admissions. 

Catalogs or further information sent upon request 




Patronize Ooldtn Rod Advertisers 

H*^M»i^MI'^M^,'»tj l »»^MM'*»»''»'