Phillips High School - Phillipian Yearbook (Phillips, ME)

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20 THE PHILLIPIAN it. Are-are you trying to back out of it after so 'humiliating me? Was it just a cruel joke? I can 't imagine what you are talking about, said Mr. Brewster in a puzzled voice. K' Let me see that note. Shamefacedly Miss Agatha brought forth the note, and handed it to him. There! If you didn't write that, I should like to know who did. Mr. Brewster took the note and read the follofwingi Dearest: How can you be so cruel! I cannot stand the suspense any longer. I have waited so long! Give me some sign that you love me as I love you. T. B. As he finished reading, it gradually dawned upon him that Miss Agatha had thought this from him, and had answered by saying, The feeling is mutual. He beamed upon Miss Agatha and said, 4' I 'll have to admit that I didn't send it to you, but I wish I had years ago, for it ex- presses exactly what I have longed to say to you for the past five years. Thereupon -the note and its mysterious author were abandoned for more impor- tant occupations, and Miss Agatha found herself in the exact spot where s-he had so long desired to be. D. M. H. HASTE MAKES WASTE UR English class was studying Poor Richard's Almanac, and our assign- ment was to interpret some of the old maxims in it. I found it very easy and I was making swift progress until I came to, 1' Haste makes waste. I began to reason: If a person hurried, he was at least saving time, so what on earth could he Iwaste? Fate solved my problem. I remember quite plainly that it was the first day of December, a very cold day, and one on which the Physics class was supposed to perform experiments in the laboratory. Our instructor assigned the experiment, told us it was hard, and asked if Miss Vose and Miss Bunnell would please get some ice so that we could start at once, as he was in a hurry. Why the chose me I didn't know, for I wasn't noted for my speed, but we set out, very glad to get a few minutes off. Winifred complained that the ice was dirty, and I made the suggestion that we go 'to the river for some. Winifred agreed, and being careful to keep out of range of the laboratory windows wwe made a dash. I.reached the bank sooner than Wini- fred and with a piece of iron which I had brought for the purpose I began to hack at the ice, meaning to get mine first at all hazzards. Alas! What I thought was bank, wasn't bank at all. My feet slipped and the blue waters of Sandy River closed over my head. Winifred pulled me out and asked me what on eartfh.I fell in for and who Richard was. For I was gasping with the little breath I had left: HP-p-poor Rich- ard was r-r-right. FRIDAY, THE THIRTEENTI-I N a bleak cold night when the wind was ihowling around the trees like a ghost shrieking I was riding on my horse trying to get to the farm before the storm broke. As I drew near the haunted house, I gave Jean the quirt, and tried to get past as quickly as possible. As I got opposite the house my 'hair began to rise for in the window was a lamp. When I reached home I put my horse in the barn and went on trembling limbs to the house. After supper I told my father and mother what I had seen. They looked at each other and then looked quickly away. Later I heard them talking it over,

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THE PHILLIPIAN 19 vain. Hadn't she waited tive long, lonely years for this? But who would have sup- posed that he could be so-well, so ardent, when he scarcely seemed to notice her. trick? Ah-it What had turned the must be -. Surreptitiously from the hid- den depths of a dark corner of her dresser drawer she brought forth a shiny enameled object. A vanity case! fAh, Aunt Agat-ha, are you catching on to the wiles of the little feather-brained Hints? I am surprised at youlj 'A This must be it! she exclaimed ex- citedly, for yesterday :when I met him in the hall he positively stared at me. Whereupon, after she had peered -cau- tiously about her three-room .apartment, the spare hand of Miss Agatha was raised 'to her high cheek-bones, where, with a dainty puff, it uncertainly applied a ver- million splash of color to either cheek. 'A My, it certainly does make a differ- ence, she addressed her rellexion. Do you-do you suppose he would like my hair bobbed? CAnd if you could have known Aunt Agatha you would realize how smitten she was to fall to this.j A' But what-what shall I say in reply to his note? Thereupon she sat down at her desk, crushed down the pride that for tive long years had held her in its grip, and, after much thought and more destroying of paper, finally penned the four words, The feeling is mutual. Stealthily, looking this way and that, she crept out into the hall and slipped the note under the door oppo- site. Then she tip-toed back and softly closed her door on the inside, where she stood panting as though she had run up six flights of stairs. When Thomas Brewster returned to his apartment after a delicious but solitary 'dinner he was surprised to find a note tucked under his door. His astonishment grew when he read the short unsigned message. U Now what under the canopy does it mean, and who put it under my door? he asked himself, thoroughly puz- zled. What feeling is mutual? I am sure that I haven't been telling my feelings to anyone-not but what I'd like to tell a certain lady something, though, fwith a sighj. If only she weren't so aristocratic. I don't suppose she has ever even noticed me, except as another obstacle in the hall. 'K But who could have put this note under my door. Perhaps Miss Stanley might have seen somebody snooping about, if only I dared ask her. Certainly it could do no harm. Consequently he crossed the hall and timidly rapped on the opposite door. Presently the door opened, and Miss Agatha stood before him. Upon seeing who it was she suddenly blushed furiously 'beneath her rouge. 'fWon't-won't you come in? she stammered. f'Ah! thought she, here he is at last! Now for the great moment ! - 'I I just wanted to ask you if you might have seen someone snooping about in the hall this afternoon. 'I Why I- Have you lost No, I found a queer note under my door, and I didn't know but what you might know something ahout it. Do you? something? Are you insinuating that I have been snooping about your apartment? she asked angrily, in an attempt to evade an- swering directly. Why, certainly not, exclaimed M1'. Brewster, astonished at her vehemence. H But I can't imagine what the note can mean' Suddenly tears of anger and humiliation began to roll down Miss Agatha's cheeks. H And you dare to say that you don't know what that means after you wrote that in- criminating note to me, and sent me a box of candy ! she stormed. Why, my dear! Mr. Brewster took a step nearer, Hwhat are you talking about? Candy! Note! You must be mistaken. 'K Mistaken! You signed your initials to

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THE PHILLIPIAN 21 and I learned that every three years this same light is seen in the window. My father called up several of the neigh- bors and they decided to fathom the mys- tery. So did I. I put the saddle on Jean and started. I reached there -before the others, left my horse at the 'bottom of the Ihill, and started up. When I reached the top I crept noise- lessly toward the house and peered cau- tiously in the window which 'had the light. Then I laughed to myself and my knees stopped shaking, for sitting in an old arm- chair was the sweetest old lady I had ever SCSU. ' Going boldly up to the front door I knocked, and asked the old lady if I might come in. She placed a chair on the oppo- site side of the fireplace for me and told me her story: Her name was Madame Grave. Fifteen years ago her son had gone away because his sweetheart had been untrue to whim. It was on Friday, the thirteenth, so every three years, on that, date, she 'had left her 'home in the city, come to this old house, and placed a lamp in the window, hoping that some day the light would guide her son back to her. We heard a noise outside and then a knock. I went to the door and just out- side stood a strange man, tall of stature, with black hair and eyes. I-Ie pushed me unceremoniously aside and kneeling placed his head in the lap of the old lady, crying, M'other! I never 'before saw such joy as was re- flected in Madame Grave's eyes. 'AI knew, she said, that that ligiht would guide you home to me sometime, and I am so glad, my son, so gladf' I saw that they had forgotten me, so I went softly out. At the end of the path I met my father and tihe other men. I told them of my experience and I saw them covertly hiding the revolvers which they had brought to fight the ghosts . B. B., '34. OLD HOUSEKEEPERS AND NEW N order to get a true idea of the value of modern improvements, let us close our eyes and let our thoughts drift back to the customs of our ancestors-ac- cepted customs because no one could, at that time, improve them. On a lonely, wooded, country road, twi- light is falling. Set back from the road, which is merely a widened cow-path, is a country farmhouse. It is unpainted and weather-beaten, on one side its slanting roof nearly touches the ground, at the front is a heavy door strengthened with bolts and bars. We enter, and find ourselves in a square, old-fashioned kitchen. At the end of the room is an extremely large fireplace, from the direction of which, in a kettle, hung from a crane over the blazing fire, drifts an appetizing odor. An old woman, moving heavily about the kitchen, 'brings dishes of pewter from a hanging cupboard on one side of the long room, to a table on the other side. Back and forth she travels, and finally, turning to the fireplace, we hear a little click, and s'he has opened the door of a great brick fireplace. From the oven great pans of fbread, and oven over the she draws two makes the trip across the room again to empty the pans. At last the simple meal is prepared but how many 'hundreds of steps has she taken? After supper, taking the one candle from a holder on the shelf, she throws a shawl over her head, and taking a pail, goes out of 'doors and at least a hundred yards down the path to the well, where, a small bucket being the only means of drawing the water, she has to lift it up full many times, before the pail is filled. Then slowly she travels back with the pail into the house. ' To heat the Water, the kettle 'having been removed from the crane, she hangs