Brewer High School - Trident Yearbook (Brewer, ME)

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22 THE TRIDENT UTEWAR7 .72 Waving .Day Up before daybreak, with the rain pouring from the heavens in torrents. How disgusting. Why? Today is the day on which we are to move and so much must be done. The moving men will be here before we start packing dishes. Yes, sure enough, here they are and absolutely nothing done. The baby of the family is still asleep and the rest are rushing to and fro pack- ing, stowing away, or carrying articles. The thought enters my mind, as to what will happen to the fur- niture ln such a rain, but that question is quickly dismissed by my efforts in trying to save a coat from the hands of those expert grabbers , as we might call moving men. There go the bed, bureau and several other pieces and one room. is empty in less than live minutes. Quick work! More things are gone or going and from the midst of the confusion comes the frightened cry of Mamma , from the child who has been awakened suddenly by the unusual noises. Now to dress him. Where can his clothes be? Yes, here they are: all but his stockings. Where are they? They are in the bureau drawer, but the bureau is gone and even clothes are taken almost oil' one's back. What next? The child dressed, as much as possible, the packing of dishes is resumed. Orders from mother seem unending as I hear her say, Bring the soup plates: that's it. Now, the dinner plates: they will fit best here. What is there that will tit into a corner? That will do, she says, as I bring forth a small nest of bowls. This trying to keep up with orders seems to last for hours but that is not really so, of course. Then the real moving. Now we are in the new house where the furniture is being unloaded and as I stand upon a box I feel, as a traffic cop must, when directing traffic. This ls what I say, Put that piano here. No, a little nearer the doorway. That will do. The phonograph? Yes. That,-well let me see: set it down by that end window for the present. That bed goes in the back room, that bureau in the front room. Here, don't put that chair out there: I want it in this room. That is the last piece. What a dreadful bother it is to move. Hungry? Of course. Well, food will taste good now if it ever dld. Where shall we sit? The food will digest just as well if not better for eating off a barrel and sitting on boxes. The meal over, work must be started again and this time we shall try to arrange the furniture exactly as we want lt, only in a few days to change it entirely, perhaps. By evening the fumiture has been placed and some unpacking completed. Tired and aching muscles long for a place to rest, but where are our sleeping gar- ments? No one remembers. A hunt is started and one drawer, then another, and still another are over- hauled until all the sleeping garments except mine have been found. Everything is once more gone over imtll someone suggest the phonograph and there resting peacefully are my pajamas. The day over, we try to enjoy our first night in our new home. Doris M. Don- '33. Cwhat gfolidays Really gre A holiday is not what the dictionary defines lt, a. day of gayety and joy. On the contrary, to most of my friends, it means that extra long study period eked out by our teachers after which in all probability you can expect a test. Each teacher adds to your burden of woe by repeating this same formula: And now, as you will have the holiday, I suggest having the examination directly afterwards, rather than going any further in your textbooks and having more material to cover. So, as you propel your weary feet through the portals of this honorable institution of learning, you are almost entirely hidden by your various prepara- tions for the holiday in form of books, pencils, paper, ink, erasers and everything else that coincides with your anticlpations for this longed-for day. After stag- gering slowly homeward, you are greeted with this pleasant exclamation form Mother: Have you any studying to do over the holiday dear? In your turn, you cast a baleful look in her general direction and reply sweetly, No, Mother darling, only three little tests. Then you trail up to your room, emitting long drawn-out sighs. After much con- templation, you decide that careful application and concentration is your only hope for an afternoon off. The next morning deep in the history of Louis XIV's reign, your train of thought is rudely inter- rupted by strange walls which seem to come from down stairs. What on earth is that! It sounds like some animal in dire distress. Suddenly light dawns! Of course, foolish of you not to think of lt before, Junior was starting his violin lessons today. Just after your scattered thoughts are again in order, little sister bursts in with a Where are those bobby-pins I lent you this morning? You promised to give them back. In a similar manner the real day passes and my firm belief-that the true definition of holiday is a long extended study period-is doubly strengthened. G. Baker '34.

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THE TRIDENT 21 football, basketball, cups, etc., that the school might win. The case could be enclosed in glass and the lights controlled from the office. This particular place is more suitable than any other for several reasonsg most visitors and new comers would naturally come first to the offce where they would immediately see the trophies rather than having to search for them down some other corridorg the traffic, which after all, is one of the chief difficulties in our school, could be more easily regulated here in front of the office than in the middle of some other corridor. Speedy action should be taken to move the many prizes won by the athletic teams, band, and others have won, from their present places of obscurity to a prominent spot where they can be admired by all. That the traffic system introduced in the second semester is a very good one. However, we should re- member that no plan can be ideal without the co- operation and unity of all those concerned. That when any improvements are added to the Athletic Field the baseball diamond should receive first consideration. Without too much expense the diamond could be exactly reversed and the home plate be placed in the present outfield. A faster outfield would be developed, a smoother diamond could be perfected, and the players would no longer be bothered by the sun. That we have a very efficent library system. With the joint supervision of Mrs. Lawrie, Librarian, and Miss Drinkwater of the faculty and Miss Helen Brim- mer, the chief assistant librarian, an improved method of cataloguing has been developed. Miss Brlmmer deserves special praise for the careful and successful manner in which she has managed the listing and fines. The new permit plan, introduced by Mr. Gor- don, has also done much to improve the library con- dlticins and in the future will, no doubt, be satisfactory to a . The assistant librarians who have helped Miss Brimmer in directing the library are: Dolores Hop- per, Frances Higgins, Edna Adams, Evelyn Klein, Joan Stuart, Alma Wray, Ada White, Marion Hall, Harold Mayo, Richard Hebel, Raymond Grove, Thomas Gor- don and Walter Wyman. That the system of financial managers is a very good one. Our present manager, Vernon D'Amboise, has handled his duties very capable and should be highly praised. Many think that this office ls deserv- ing of a letter. In the future it is hoped that a special B will be given to the financial manager. That turnstiles are a necessity at our Athletic Field. Unless these or some similar devices are installed there is likely to be serious difficulty when a large crowd attends a game. That the abolition of the gymnasium classes may in the future cause a serious handicap to Brewer High School. Many have been deprived of a mental as well as physical training that will be a great loss to them in their future life. It is also easily understood that future athletic teams may suffer greatly because of this lack of fundamental training. This is a growing sentiment throughout the school and in the opinion of many, if it is financially possible, these classes should be resumed. That, if a plan to finance the program could be ar- ranged and more girls' athletics could easily be de- veloped at our school. There is ample space for field hockey, tennis, etc. at the Athletic Field in addition to the gymnasium classes that should be instituted. That there should be some award to the cheer lead- ers. At present they receive nothing for their work at the games and rallies. It might be a good plan to have the cheer leaders elected or appointed to serve the whole year, throughout the football, basketball, and baseball seasons. They would then surely deserve av special B which could be designed for this pur- pose. That rules are the only means of uniting a group of individuals. As a nation, city, or club must have rules and laws, so must the school. Let's show our school spirit as law-abiding citizens by cooperating H. M. G. '33. A GOOD SPORT What is the true meaning of this title? Does it mean one who merely follows some line of athletics or games, having no control over a selfish and quick temper? No, anyone who plays with others in games and contests must soon learn to have con- trol of his feelings and to be .considerate of others. A good sport is one who plays the game fairly, obedient to rules and listens to reason instead of to the calls from the audience. When the game is over, nothing will be remembered except whether the losers took their defeat the right way or it the winners were too proud of their victory. Defeat is hard to accept, but if one plays the game to the best of his knowledge and ability, he will enter the next game with the determination to win. These same rules apply to the game of life. Every- one should meet his opponents fairly, and try his best, regardless of conditions and surroundings. When the one great scorer comes To mark against your name, He writes not if you've won or lost But how you played the game. A. Smith IS THE SCHOOL DAY TOO LONG? We are now having two sessions of school, one in the morning, lasting from 8 o'clock until 11:20, and one in the afternoon, from 1 o'clock until 3:15. With this plan, the athletic teams have to go out at 3:15 and rush through their practice. The teachers have to rush during study periods to get papers cor- rected and take those that are not corrected home and slt up doing the school work instead of having a little recreation. Boys like to have fun after school, playing baseball, football, skating, etc. They have only a short time in which to enjoy themselves. Why not have one session starting at 8 o'clock sharp with forty minute periods? We would leave school then at about 1:10. This would make it easier for everyone. The ath- letic teams could have long practices instead of rush- ing before the sun sets, the teachers would have the afternoon to correct papers, and boys could have their with our school rules. fun. The one session plan seems better in every way than the two session plan. S. Ivers. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS That we should show our appreciation of their ef- forts to make our Trident a success by patronizlng our advertisers. We must remember that many of our advertisers contribute out of a spirit of loyalty and support for our school and not merely for their own benefit. It is unusually difficult for some tohelpus this year, and we should show our gratitude by supporting them in the same way. It might even be a good plan when we enter their places of business to mention the fact that their advertisement was seen in our paper.

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THE TRIDENT 23 cgongue- Twister As far back as I can remember, I have always stuttered. Not good, dlgniiled stammeringg but a sharp, staccato stutteringg like a riveting machine going full blast. When I was a child, my mother patiently drilled me, hour after hour, in a vain effort to cure me of this horrid curse, but all to no avail. In school, when I got up to recite, I sounded like a motorboat warming up. My classmates laughed at my comical eifcrts to speak. I became shy and self- conscious and withdrew from the companionship of others. It has always been like that. I hated people, be- cause they made fun of me. I tried to stay by myself as much as possible, because of my clattering tongue. When I left school, I went to live in a little cabin in the woods. It was beside an old road which was seldom used. I picked this place to live in because I thought I could live there quietly, away from people whom I did not wish to see. It was just as I wished. I lived there alone, un- disturbed. At last, I was contented. My accursed tongue could bother me no more. , One spring morning, in the sixth year of my seclusion, a road crew drove by my cabin, and the foreman stopped at my door. We're going to blast up the hill about half a mile up the road, he said. Wh-wh-wh- when? I managed to bark out. ge stared at me in surprise, for an instant, then sa . In about an hour. Don't worry, it won't disturb you in the least. However, there's something I wish you'd do for me, if you will. I waited, not trusting myself to speak again. Probably there's one chance in a thousand of any- one's coming through here, but if they do, would you please stop them and tell them to go back? If they happened to get there at just the right time, they'd be blown up. I nodded, and closed the door. Of course, no one would be through this road. I-Iadn't I lived there for six years without seeing a living soul? Naturally, those silly, gaping tourists would pick that beautiful, spring morning to explore the de- lightful old abandoned road. I rushed into the road, waving my arms frantically. They stopped, wonderment printed on their faces. Th-th-th-they're g-g-g-g-gonna b-b-b-b- blast! blast! why c0uldn't I say that simple word? B-b-b-bub-b-b- I stared at them frantically. They were beginning to laugh at me. I rushed into the camp to get a pencil and piece of paper. When I came out, they had driven off!! I waited for what seemed to me an eternity. Cold sweat poured' off my face. My accursed tongue! Per- haps it had been the means of kililng four people! Finally, I saw them driving back down the road. They stopped when they came to me. The driver leaned out. D-d-d-d-did-? I stammered. Yes, they stopped us in time, the man said, smil- ing sarcastically. He dropped a nickel into my out- stretched palm. Here y'are he said, buy yourself a box of cough drops. They're good for that hoarse throat. 'I'hen they drove off, their hateful laughter floating back to me on the morning breeze. K. Rowe. .Beauty of Wature I wonder how many people out of the millions ever truly live as nature intended? Try it for just a short time, and you will never regret your choice. Select some quiet uninhabited spot just as far from all modern life as you can flnd. Pitch your tent and then let nature rule. Mornings when the sun is just beginning to wink at our universe, you will hear the most wonderful music. The birds all try to do their very best, and they certainly put mere mortals to shame. There are the glories of sunrise: the beautiful colors never yet copied perfectly. It will make you wonder why God does care so much for man. By the time you have had breakfast, cooked over an open fire, you are ready to fish, swim, or walk wherever fancy may lead. If you choose to sit idle in a canoe and drift down the stream, or lake, you see more beauty than ever dreamedg little fish, of beautiful colors, darting swiftly here and there. The branches of the trees bending low over the water, as if studying their graceful forms, in a mirror. Once in awhile if you are very quiet, a beautiful deer will appear on the shore for a cooling drink. As you listen you hear sounds and see things, you little dreamed could be. If you are looking for a thrill, which you never will forget, take a trip like this one and learn appreciation, for all that is beautiful, and a new reverence for the maker of it all. Ella Moore '34. .7 .Doomsville gpisode About ten o'clock one dark, rainy night, a man, with his cap pulled low over his forehead, and collar turned up about his face, was seen pushing a wheelbarow along the muddy lane of Doomsville. In this wheelbarrow could be seen a dark box, the paint flaked off in spots, showing rusty iron beneath. The man now and then nervously adjusted the wheel- barrow so that the sliding box could slip back into place. He seemed to be having difficulty in pushing this through the mud: and frequently he stopped, drew his handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the rain and perspiration from his face, meanwhile cautiously look- ing about him. Once or twice an imagined sound made him jump nervously and peer timorously in all directions. All was silent, except the sound of the rain drops pattering on his slicker, and the water squashlng in his boots, making him swear softly under his breath. The lapping of the waves against the shore of the small, dark lake announced that he was nearing the end of his journey. Finally reaching there, he pulled an old, black boat and two oars from a small grove of trees. Slowly and carefully he lifted the iron box from the wheelbarrow to the bottom of the boat. Then he rowed as silently as he could to the middle of the lake. Pulling his oars nolselessly into the boat, he stood up and peered carefully around him, as if afraid that he was being watched. At last, with a sudden spurt of courage, he lifted the box from its resting place and shuddered, as it quickly and silently sank from sight. His muscles relaxed and he sighed, Poor Iskabible, she was the best cat I ever drowned. I. Drew.