Anson Academy - Anchor Yearbook (North Anson, ME)

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THE GREATEST SCARE I EVER HAD One late afternoon last fall I was crashing home in the dark. I say crash- ing because it was so dark one couldn't see anything ten feet in front of him. I had been hunting but I'd had no luck as there seemed to be no deer prowling around that afternoon. I knew exactly where I was, otherwise it would have been easy to get lost. As 1 wallowed through an extra noisy brush pile, a light suddenly swept across the rather open country in front of me. I don't know whether my eyes would shine like a deer's or not, but I took no chances. I stepped quickly be- hind the nearest tree. Just in time, too, for the light swept slowly by, changing the darkness to daylight. The operator satisfied that it was his imagination he had heard, switched off the light. I stayed still for a few minutes not daring to move. Although I had no way of tell- ing, I had a growing suspicion it might be some trigger-happy night hunter who lived in that vicinity. I started to move again but kept close to cover all the while. On came the light once more, and this time closer. I was safely out of sight, however, by the time it reached me. It began to look as if I would have to stay out in the field all night. Then a happy inspiration came to me. I whist- led as clearly as I could manage. Im- mediately there was the sound of a man moving rapidly for the road nearly half a mile away. In less than five minutes I heard a car start and go tearing off into the darkness. I, breathing a deep sigh of relief, made my way home and without further mishap. -Ralph Manzer '48 SEASONS I LIKE THE BEST Spring and fall I like the best, But we have to live through all the rest. Though winter and summer are very good seasons, Really to like them, I have no reasons. Spring is swell, and fall is better, But I don't like the winter weather. When summer comes, and kids holler and shout, I just go down and catch some trout. Page Twenty Then when it's fall, I never pout, For I get my gun and hunt about. When winter is here, and kids run a race, I curl up by the fireplace. So spring and fall I like the best. Other people can have the rest. Robert Burns '50 A LETTER TO MISS TRUMAN In the Freshman English Class one morning of the week following the radio broadcast of Miss Margaret Truman, we decided to write her a note of congratu- lations. The letter which follows was composed by the class and was copied by the Secretary, Shirley McLean. North Anson, Maine March 25, 1947 Dear Miss Truman, In behalf of the Freshman Class of Anson Academy, I am writing to con- gratulate you on your excellent radio debut. Many of us heard your program, and listened to it with great interest. We wish you continued success in your mu- sical career. Have you ever visited this grand old State of Maine? We hope if you haven't. you will have the opportunity to enjoy our mountains, lakes, and our rocky coast, sometime this summer. You may be sure the next time you broadcast we will all be listening. With best regards from us all, Shirley McLean, Secretary of Class The class was made very happy by the thank you letter Miss Truman was kind enough to write. The White House Washington April 2. 19471 Dear Miss McLean, Thank you very much for your kind letter in behalf of the Freshman Class of Anson Academy. I appreciate the thoughtfulness of all of you in letting me know that you enjoyed the Program. Most sincerely, Margaret Truman Miss Shirley McLean Anson Academy North Anson, Maine

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DUSK Day is at an end, ' And dusk is coming down upon 'as From the Heavens overhead: While up the hill the tired men Are coming from their hard day's To find their families waiting there, And so to share Their ever1.ing's pleasure. Frances Edgerley '50 LOOKING THROUGH THE BARS hthelbert had been captured a long time ago and put behind bars. No one remembered exactly when he had been caught or where he came from. His diet each day had been just a little food and water. mthelbert was very handsome and could sing beautifully. Whenever visi- tors came to see him they remarked how handsome he was. Always they wanted him to sing for them. Sometimes he would, for the visitors that came the most. Mr. Johnson, the man who brought Ethelbert his food, said he sang the most when he didn't know anyone was around. So after that the visitors would stay out of sight until he had sung and then go in to see him. One day Mr. Johnson forgot to lock the door after bringing Elthelbert his food and he escaped. Mr. Johnson spread the alarm but it was too late. The canary had flown out an open window and was singing in the top of a tall elm tree. -Katherine Ela '47 WHY I DON'T LIKE WINTER Why don't I like winter? Well, I'll tell you a few of the reasons why I don't. Through the winter months snow seems to fall every day and every time it does I have to shovel. And when I shovel, the snow always sticks. It's al- most enough to make a minister curse. If you happen to own an old car chances are ten to one that it will act up on the coldest mornings of the year. The radiator will freeze and then patience and hot water are the only cure. If that doesn't work a person has to pour gas into the motor and crank for what he's work worth. Some cars won't even start then. Those are the ones that you have to tow all over God's white creation and then some. Slippery roads are another thing that help one out greatly when he gets out of the road. Then the shovel or the chain is the only answer. O, yes, there is the tow truck of course. It is a lot of fun, too, to crawl under the car and put those darn things on. They never seem to fit. When it begins to snow in the morn- ing, very often it will turn to darn blast- ed rain to stick on the roads and the win- dows of a car. It's fun to work outside when the wind blows like a storm at sea and the snow, of course, is there stinging against your face. Those are but a few of the many reasons why I don't like winter. -Richard Whitaker '48 A LETTER FROM HOME Today as I sit reading your letter from home, I close my eyes, and in mem- ory once again I'm walking down the main street of the old home town. I listen to the merry laughter of little children as they play without a care in the world. I hear the friendly voices of the clerks in the stores as they sell some- thing to a customer or buy something from a salesman I catch the cheery tones of the postman as he goes on his way. Again it's mealtime and I seem to see the pleasant home surroundings, the neat table loaded with well-cooked food, fresh vegetables, meat, fragrant steaming coffee or delicious milk. I hear the loved voices of the family that make mealtime at home such a happy time to remember. But darkness is creeping in, a cold mist is coming up through the prison yard. I can hear the steady footsteps of the guard as he passes up and down before my cell. No longer can I see to read your letter from home. I wipe away the mist before my eyes, the hap- py visions disappear, and once again I am locked in the old prison camp-a prisoner of war. -Percival Spencer '47 Page Nineteen

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THE MOST FAITHFUL PAL Tommy Simpson, a cute little eight year old boy, lived with his mother and father on a large dairy farm in Indiana. He had helped his father with the chores and fished in the bubbling streams but there was one thing he longed for more than anything else and that was a com- panion. He wished for someone to run and play with, someone to keep him com- pany. The nearest neighbor lived two miles from the Simpson home so they seldom visited there. In the meantime Tommy was terribly lonesome. One day he came in from outside and went into the kitchen where his mother was busy preparing the evening meal. He sat down in the little red stool his father had made for him when he was hardly more than a baby. He was silent for a minute and then he asked the question: Mother, will you and daddy buy me a dog? Why, yes, Tommy, said Mrs. Simp- son, of course we will. We were plan- ning to get one for your birthday in October but, if you would rather have it now we will get it for you the next time we go to the city. What kind of dog would you like? By this time Tommy was jumping up and down clapping his hands and shout- ing for joy. When he had calmed down enough to answer he stammered: I want a big, big Collie dog and I wan'na teach him a whole mess of tricks and he can go everywhere with me 'n every- thing. When can we go to the city, Mom- my? Can we go today? Can we, huh? His mother laughed and said they couldn't go for two or three days but they would go very soon. Two days later a very proud little boy was returning home from the city, for there in the back of the car with his head in Tommy's lap was a big beau- tiful collie dog. The next few weeks were packed full of fun. Tommy immediately named his dog Laddie. Laddie got just as much fun out of learning the tricks as Tommy did out of teaching them. They explored nearly every inch of the farm, went fish- ing and had jolly times together. Laddie never left Tommy's side. He even slept on a rug beside Tommy's bed every night. One nice afternoon in June Tommy decided he would like to go fishing. He had always been fishing within sight of the house before when he had been alone but there was a much better place about three-quarters of a mile away in the big pasture behind the barn. He had often been there with his father. He ran into the house and teased his mother to let him go. His mother soon consented trusting Laddie's watchful eye and faith- ful care. A half hour later found Tommy with a fishpole over his shoulder trudging along the lane leading to the pasture with Laddie trotting close at his heels. A fifteen minute walk brought them to the shady fishing spot with which they were well acquainted. Tommy seated himself upon the bank and dropped the line into the water He fished steadily for an hour with Laddie lying close by his side. The dog soon be- came tired of lying there, and without Tommy's knowing it got up and wander- ed around and soon started for home. Eventually Tommy had had enough of fishing. Also enough fish, so leaving his fish and pole on the bank he began hunting wild flowers for his mother. He had noticed Laddie's absence but think- ing the dog had gone home and believing he himself would be all right, he con- tinued picking flowers and without thought wandered further than he real- ized. He then discovered the sun was low in the west so he turned back but soon found he didn't know which way to go. He became frightened and wished llraddie were there to show him the way ome. Back at the farmhouse Mr. Simpson and the hired men had come in for sup- per. The sun was nearly down and Mrs. Simpson was worried. She went outside to see if Tommy were in sight and saw Laddie lying by the front steps. She re- ported this to her husband and he and the hired hands along with Laddie were at once on their way to find Tommyv. When they reached the fishing hole Mr. Simpson said: Go find Tommy, Lad- die. Go find Tommy. Laddie ran around in circles for a moment but soon picked up the sce'nt of Tommy's footsteps and started on the trail with Mr. Simpson and the other men Page Twenty-One