Woodstock High School - Eureka Yearbook (Bryant Pond, ME)

Page 19 text:

WEEKDAY ROUTINE Whew! Boy, am I glad to get ofl that crowded bus! Oh, golly! Just fifteen more------- Hi! ------ minutes and that Good morning---------bell will ring. (Puff! Puff)! Wow! That’s a lot of stairs to climb this early in the morning. Hey, Nadine! May I borrow your comb? Gee! What a mop! ------------------ There, it doesn’t look much better, but it will have to pass.-----Thanks. Hi, Denise!------Oh, no! Here comes Mr. Stetson. The bell’s going to ring. ------Ring-g-g-g-g----------Our Father which art in heaven,---------- I pledge allegiance to the Hag------Ring-g-g-g-g---------Shorthand! Come on Denise, let’s go. Good morning, Mrs. Crockett. (We get through one class.) Ring-g-g-g-g-------Typing next, Hey! You got some paper I can use?----------- Thanks. Come on, I’m using that one.-----------Click,------Click--------Click,--- Oh! This old typewriter doesn't work well.-----------The keys stick or something. What? Just two more minutes? Well, that class went fast. Now ten minutes recess. I guess I'll go talk to Kaye. Oh, hi, Beverly, I haven't seen you all morning. (After ten minutes of gossip and laughs, back to work.) Ring-g-g-g-------Study period. Hope it’s not too noisy this spare. I’ve just got to get some work done.-------------Now, let’s see,----I’d better do my English first. Hey, Denise, you got my pen?--------Thanks.---------Oh, did you really? I didn’t see you.------Golly, don’t start talking; I've got to get busy. I'm behind already. (After a lot of thinking, but not much done, the bell rings once more.) Ring-g-g-g-g-----Hm-m-m-, let’s see now, another spare. I’d better work on my history.—Hey, got your history done?--------Lucky dog,—No, not yet, I’m just going to start it. Time passes---------More minutes fly by and the hands on the big clock finally point to twelve. The bell rings, and everyone hurries in from the different classrooms. Once again we hear the sound of the bell.-------There is a mad dasli for the door and down the stairs, for the school is out for one hour.-------Of course, it passes by in no time at all.------There are now fifteen minutes left before we dig into our studies again. We all look at the clock, wishing that the hands didn’t move so rapidly at noon hours. Well, of course, the fun must end, and work must begin. Here we go again. The bell rings------------- Some go to their classes, some study, some try to study, and of course there are always a few that don’t want to study, and don't want anyone else to. 1:50----------The classes change again. The same routine over for the last class of the day. 2:40-------For some now it’s activity period, and for others, staring at the pages of their school books. Some days this period goes fast, and other days slowly. Naturally it makes a difference whether you're outside playing different sports, or inside wishing you had your work done so you could be out there, too.------------The time is 3:25. For the last time in the day Mr. Stetson places his finger on the switch, and presses it slowly while everyone is waiting anxiously for it to ring. There it goes! ! School is out for another day. Some rush to their cars, others run to the bus, and still others walk to their separate homes. Night falls, and dew settles on the ground. The lights in the different houses go out, one by one. We all go to sleep to get our rest, for there is school again tomorrow. Pearl Farrington 17

Page 18 text:

As much as she hated to clean, Jan wasn’t so sure but what she would like picking through the old attic that is, providing there weren’t any mice or spiders. She pulled out cardboard boxes full of everything but anything. In one ol the bigger boxes she found some pictures which were the silliest looking things she had ever seen. How women ever could have worn such crazy stvles was beyond her! In back ol one ol those discarded, long mirrors, she found an old black trunk with a broken catch. This to Jan was the best yet. As she opened it, one ol the first things she came upon was an old box filled with papers. I here were a few letters which were so faded [an couldn’t read them very well, but no one could say she didn't try. Then she pulled out a long white envelope. Jan, being the curious type, opened it. As she unfolded the paper, what she saw before her left her thunderstruck. It was adoption papers lor Janice Carol Lang. Her last name was Bacon, but she was sure that she had been adopted. Jan didn’t know what to do. She ran down stairs with the paper in her hand. Her mother was in the kitchen. Jan couldn’t cjuite bring herself to say it. She just handed her mother the paper. Mrs. Bacon looked at it; then smiled, as she asked, “Why, where did you find that, dear? I thought that was gone long ago.” Jan just couldn t understand how she could be so free and easy about it I p in the attic, she said slowly. “Mom, why didn’t you tell me about it?” Her mother looked surprised. “Why I thought you knew about it, dear. Anyway what difference does it make?” What difference did it make! Jan was getting a bit angry. “Well, wouldn't you like to know il you had been adopted?” 1 have always known I was adopted, dear” her mother said. My mother showed me that paper long ago. You see she couldn’t have any children, so she adopted me.” Jan sank into the chair. “Oh. I forgot your name was the same as mine ” she sighed with relief. “I thought I was the one that had been adopted.” She went back upstairs feeling much happier than when she came down. Her mother, a strange smile on her face, watched her go. Margie Cox ELVIS AND GIRLS I, personally, have no grudge against Elvis Presley. I am, therefore, writing this story to gall a few girls I know. How anyone could go “ape” over Elvis is more than I can understand. A person who stands with an oversized guitar in his hands and shakes as he does must be loose under the skull. He sounds and acts like one who has had too many drinks and has fallen into a nest of red ants. Some girls think he is handsome with his hair dripping with grease and still looking like a worn-out broom. Adding to his beauty are “bags” under his eyes, which make him look as if he hadn’t slept for a week. I he lad that he has lour or five Cadillacs and a few other expensive cars, proves he is very spend thrift. What girl in her right mind would want a husband who is so extravagant. Certainly, one Cadillac would do! I hey say day-dreaming is a sign of mental sickness. In that case, lots of iris are going insane. Some girls spend so much time thinking of him, they never get things done in reality. Why do they spend so much time on him? They will never marry him, nor ptobably see him in person. Those things I’ll never understand. Burton Cole lfi

Page 20 text:

THE CHOICE The brook was peaceful in the summer sun, as the butterflies played kol- low-the-Leader above it, and the fish played hide-and-seek-within it. 1 he trees were asleep with their arms outstretched to the sky. As the sound ol a foot step was heard, the butterflies Hew away, and the fish swam to their home beneath the rocks. Oidy the trees stayed the same, still sleeping with their arms outstretched to the sky. The foot step was that of a beautiful girl who sat down on the banks of the brook, and gazed thoughtfully into it, whispering aloud, Maybe you can help me.” The brook made no reply, except to look at her as il to say, “Maybe I can.” She sat thinking which she should c hoose—Steve, whom she loved so dearly, or her parents. Should she respect their wishes enough not to marry him? Their reasons for not wanting her to marry were perfectly unreasonable: they always wanted her around to look after them in their old age or whenever they needed her; and her sister had been jilted. After all, that was no proof she would be jilted, too. Oh, how foolish they were! She loved them, but she loved Steve, too, so very much, and she couldn’t bear the thought ol life without him. She thought, “I could marry Steve, and 1 know we would be happy. But then my folks and I would always be enemies. They are like that—they never forgive when someone turns against their wishes. If 1 don’t marry Steve, I’ll have to stand by and see someone else take him from me, see someone else happy with him, and oh, dear God, I couldn’t stand that! Neither can I have my parents hate me.” These things passed through her mind, and a worried look was on her brow. What should she do? “Oh, dear God,” she prayed aloud, “Help me in this time of trouble.” She looked in her billfold at the pictures of Steve, and of her family. She kissed them both. Finally she laid the billfold on the bank of the brook; then, still clasping in her hand the pictures, she slipped slowly into the water. Her last words were, “Goodby, my loved ones, I hope I have made you all happy.” Then she saw the fish come out to play hide-and-seek; she saw the butter- flies come out to play follow-the-leader; she saw the trees asleep with their arms outstretched to the sky—she saw all this only because she was now a part of it. She was now as peaceful as the day. She had made her choice. Beverly Poland GRADUATION ft was early May. Every senior was getting ready for graduation and all the other students were waiting patiently for school to be out. Jill and Bob Parks came running into the house. Jill was a senior and Bob a junior at Rockwood High School. Jill exclaimed, “Mother I am so excited! I am Valedictorian, and Bob is going to be our Marshal at Graduation! Everyone was very happy that night at dinner. Mother and father were very proud of their daughter. The next night Jill had to go out to a meeting of her class. She left the house at 6:30, as the meeting was ter be held at the house of a friend, a ten-minute walk away, At 7:15 the phone rang. Jill’s mother went to answer. It was Sally, Jill’s friend. She asked, “Is Jill coming to the meeting to-night?” Mrs. Parks replied, “Yes, she left about an hour ago. Hasn't she got there yet?” At that moment the door bell rang and a policeman stepped in. Mrs. Parks said good-by to Sally, with a promise to call her back. 18