Skowhegan High School - Lever Yearbook (Skowhegan, ME)

Page 63 text:

Literar . . . The Housewife . . . by STANTON Moom' Tell me-who is the realboss in your home? Well, my wife bosses the servants . . . and the children boss the dog and cat . . . and . . . And you? Well, I can say anything I like to the gera- niumsf' From the foregoing anecdote we get a fair comprehension of the housewifeg and from this definition, so to speak, I will attempt to present to you the typical day of a modern housewife. A typical modern housewife rises at six in the morning. From six until six-thirty she prepares daddy's breakfast. What she serves him is typical of George Baker's Sad Sack. It consists of two eggs fried to the bottom of the pan, two slices of toast with enough charcoal on them.to make a hundred antidotes, and a cup of weak, stale, and semi-percolated coffee. Daddy does have some recompense, however, for his return from his nocturnal dolce far niente-he can read the Morning Eccenewsn and find out why he isn't so bad off anyway. Breakfast and daily inspec- tion for the kiddies are over around eight when the kiddies go to school with their apple a day to keep the E's away. From thence until noon, it's cook, sew, and moreso. For lunch she opens two cans of soup with great care and precision, an art which she learned at the local cooking school, and pours the con- tents with just the right amount of water into a cooking vessel, which she puts on the stove to heat. In the above prescribed manner she pre- pared the lunch for her husband and children in a record breaking time of three minutes and forty-three seconds. After lunch she has the whole afternoon to herself, in which time she listens to her favorite radio programs or watches television. Here is a list of some of her favorites. On radio- Old Dr. Souse, The Late Barmy Brown, Charles A11- tell: A I-lair-Raising Episode, T he Republican, the Democratic, and the Cocktail Party, and The Right to Misery. On television- Ther:-:'s Cne ln Every Family, Bribed and Groomedf' Double Nothing, and Domestic Prologue. Ah! And now wercome to the masterpiece- dinner. She' prepares her dinner from a motley of frozen foods, which were picked in their prime to insure freshness and' tempting flavor. What a meal it is! So delicious and enticing that not one morsel is left. After washing the dishes, etc., she and poor, tired out daddy go over to the jones' For a full evening of bridge and the latest gossip. Men work' from sun to sun, but a woman's work is never done, seems to be a true prophecy, for how can she ever get anything done with Wai diflicult schedule like the foregoing. THE END ' WhotA Life! L L l'd like to get away from here And pitch a roomy, tent,- , Where I could go and hunt deer . , To my heart's content. I'd like a rushing stream In which the salrnonrun. Where I could go and take my pole 'And fish in the drowsing sun. I'd also like a forest To which no warden came, Wherefl could go andhunt, And get my limit of game. These are the things That I like best. just to go in the woods And take a long rest. it ' BxLL BURTON Life Ideal .. . . i ' Unending vacation, Entertainment galore, . Money unrati0n'ed, Who wants more? A .J LINDA Scorr 1- 61

Page 62 text:

L Qfgaff'

Page 64 text:

Operotor!Operator! . . . Operator, will you get me long distance? Joe Dorgan spoke into the telephone while Mary, his wife, sat near by. Yes, operator. I'd like to put in a call to Miss Hetty Grey, North Ridge, Nebraska . . . you know, Mary, I think this is a wonderful idea to call Aunt Hetty on her birth- day. - Yes, operator, I said Miss I-Ietty Grey, North Ridge, Nebraska . . . T hatis quite all right. I'll hold the line. Don't you think she'll be surprised, Mary? . . . No, I'm sorry, operator, I didnit say anything. The name again? Grey-G-R-E-Y-no, no-G, ABGDEFG, the seventh letter of the alphabet. Yes, that's right. bet the poor old soul will be tickled to death. No, operator, I didn't call you an old fowl. Hmmmmmmmmmm Hmmmmmrn Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday to you, dear Aunt Hetty . . . What? Oh, thank you, operator . . . Hello, hello Aunt Hetty. Who?-Richard's Funeral Home? No, I'm sorry. I guess there must be some mis- take. Say, Mary, that operator sure must be thick-headed. She got me some funeral parlor in Albany .... Say, operator, there must be some mistake. You connected me with some funeral parlor. I'm calling Miss Hetty Gray, North Ridge, Nebraska. Yes, yes, all right, I'll hold the line .... She doesn't sound too brilliant to me anyway .... Yes, Iim still here, operator. My, that was fast work .... Happy birthday, Aunt Hetty .... What? What? Really, I can't under- stand you. It must be the conection .... Oh no! I'm sorry, there must be some mistake. Well really, Mary, that is a stupid operator. She connected me with some Chinese laundry and the man kept saying, 'No spika d'Engliss! No spika d'Engliss!' . . . Say, operator, I'm trying to reach Miss Hetty Grey in North Ridge, Ne- braska. Yes, that's right-North--you know, north, south, east, west . . . North Ridge-R-I- D-G-E-I'll hold the line .... Honestly, Mary, the people they hire nowadays are so stuipid. Good heavens, that girl can't even spell .... What's that, operator? You're ringing it now? No one answers. That's strange. Keep ringing, operator .... It seems as if I can hear it ringing here .... Oh, the doorbell? Well, can you an- 62 answer it, Mary? . . . What, no one answers? My, that is strange. I can't understand it .... What did you say, Mary? It's Aunt I-Ietty? Ohhhhh, Noooooooollv Morning Cogitation . . . Silvery light upon the water, A boat dancing to the melody Of the wind and the river Tete-a-tete with the quay. The stars begin to fade From the east comes a golden light Announcing the new And more glorious sight. Up in the trees, On the ground And in the burrows Life begins to stir all around. As each day begins, We know, somewhere along the way, We will either gain or lose, Or remain the same as yesterday. STANTON Moonv The Things I Desire of Life . The things I desire of life are few, Not riches, fame nor wealth, just a useful life, my share of joy, Cheerfulness and health. Diamonds, pearls, all such gems, What need have I of these? Enough to eat, enough to wear, Am I so hard to please? No fame, renown or glory, I have no want of such As title Lord or Lady, And Baron Know-So-Much. just a little music to admire, A little art to observe, not own, These things I want-good health, some friends, And a happy, cheerful home. DIANE PERKINS l if