Presque Isle High School - Ship Yearbook (Presque Isle, ME)

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Literary According to most people someone who studies hard is a boolzworm . We have an exception. foyce Wilson has brains and beauty, other than the fact that she can do chemistry. Her theme Meditation tells us a bit about what fopce is like. She is quiet, but not too much so: she likes to think and she'll accomplish' things. With your permission, jopce. may Ive dedicate Meditation to all the servicemen that have return- ed to school. MEDITATION He stood there in the shadow of the door, a smile lurking at the corner of his mouth. -Yet his eyes we e dim. Perhaps the smile was one of regretful memory--his personal way of hiding that lump in his throat--his way of suppressing that sigh within him. No one noticed him standing there. They were all so preoccupied, so busy, so noisy. They were a passing parade--a cavalcadg of laughter and color. He looked at the girl before him. She had such a nice laugh. Her shining eyes crinkled at the corners. Her carefree air and quick movements--they were so graceful. And she was 'augh1ng. She didn't have her algebra done. Suddenly a tall lanky boy came tearing up the hall, sending the innocent bystanders reeling against the wall. He had been like than once-always late-always in a hurry-never looking where he was going. He felt a sudden urge to rush into the hall swirling with people. He wanted some- one to speak to him--someone to come up and hit hi'n on the back and ask' him if he has his English done. He wanted to wear a bright plaid shirt: he wanted to sport a flashy tie and stockings that clashed. -But no one saw him standing there. It hurt. He had to admit it. It was strange to be standing here in the hall he knew so well, the hall he had walked so many t'mes, the hall he had spent so many hours in-- and not see some familiar face, some friendly smile--anything--anything at all that was the same. The shadow deepened. There was a basket ball game tonight: it was Friday--and everyone was excited. Gee, I hone it doesn't storm! Do you think it will? -- Whlat's going on at the club tonight? -- l' l meet you at Brown's at--- -- and so they babbled on. He would be at the game tonight. He would stand when the school song was played--on the other side of the room. He would know the cheers--but he couldn't cheer alone. There was talk of a formal next month. The girls excitedly discussed their new rowns--and the boys-well, they were 'earning to dance in three easy lessons. And they looked just a little worried. He glanced with indfference at the bulletin board--French Club--Commercial Club- -Home Etc. Club--they were all the same--yet different. The people were different: their ideas were different: their spirit was different. The sea of strange faces made him dizzy. The talk of things which didn't concern him made him shrink further into the shadow. He was like an eaves-dropper--a spy. He knew that it would be impossible to become one of them, And' suddenly he realized that he was glad he didn't have to. It was so strange, so unlike that school that he had known. He didn't like the feeling of change--he preferred to remember it as he had known it be- fore. He wanted to keep that memory a'one. He would put this scene out of his mind. Strange how things can change in such a short time--for it had been a short time. -Last year he had been a senior. ' joyce Wilson '46

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Pals Beanie Woogie Fnrglfsln ?? 1 1 Q 4 L Kuilecl Y Prof. 26417 ? ?

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Lefty is noted for his dark, romantic eyes and that weakness for Bangor gals! When he isn't sleeping, he likes nothing better than a good, old-fashioned baseball game with sun glasses, potato chips, and soda pop. DE. NIGGER AND DE. MULE. u Now look here, mule, what is you up to now? You is always wantin' somethin'. You just never mind, nigger. I may be jus' an old mule but I'se got rights! Mu'e, I hear you talkin', but I don't believe it! When I rubs my ears together like dis, I can unerstan' yer language. Now look here, mule, you just unrub dem ears and get to work. My, My, you is mad, ain't cha ? Well, I oughta' be, you pulled a mean trick on me. You is wrong, dat weren't no mean trick, I'se jus' wanted to tell ya that you is workin' fo' me, not me fo' you. What makes ya think dat? , as 'Well, in de mornin' youse gets up and you comes out and feeds me, ou dresses me, combs my 'air, after you gets cllone makin' an' eatin' your brekfas' you and' me works together in de helds. At night you put me in my stall, you feeds me again, and I'm ail through work for de day. You has chores to do even after I've long gone to sleep. When you gets 'paid for de crops we raise you buys a few things for de house, and de rests buys new equipment an' new harnasses for me. Dat's all true, but I'se got some questions for you. Awright, nigger, let's have 'em. Can you read? No. Can you write? No. can you? as u Shut up, mule. I'se askin' cle questfonsf' I ain't sayin' nothin. Can you eat yo' vittles widout a person feedin' you? No, but why should I, when I'se got you around? Now dat's beside de point, It's startin' to rain, nigger. l..et's head fo' de barn. It's startin' to lightnin' too. Wham! - Crash! J' N Mu'e, save me, mule, where's you? I 'm right here beside you, nigger. What happened ? You and me was struck by lightnin'. Well, what's all dese lights flashin' off and on lor? My boy, you is in heb'n. l leb'nl What's all dese mules doin here? Nigger. you is in Mules' Heb'n. lOWhy?,' u l 'Cause de Lord wanted to show you dat you is no better den a mule. Lloyd Bragclon '47 . 5 -