Albion High School - Chevron Yearbook (Albion, NY)

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0l llll! l THE CHEVRON l !IilI l0 BITTER-SWEET Look, Mary, I got eleven valentines, six from boys and five from girls. Mary, startled, jumped up from the desk which she had just been cleaning out, letting fall an envelope from which protruded some valentines. She shook herself and laughed rather shakily. It was only her imagination. But it had sounded so real. She could easily picture her young sister, Janet, ex- citedly crying the words before she had even opened the door. Janet's joyous shout as she came proudly carrying home her trophies from the valentine party at school always brought back to Mary's memory her own haste to reach home that day so long ago, her own fumbling at the door-knob. So alike and yet so different! Janet would rush home to show her valentinesg Mary had rushed home to hide her tears and mortificationsg Janet had fumbled at the door-knob in her joy to show her pretty valentinesg Mary had fumbled because the door-knob was dimmed through a blur of tears. Pity for that poor child she herself had been welled in the heart of Mary. She could never bring herself to believe that that forlorn, hurt child had been she. She was different now. That terrible day had shown her that one can't sit back and let the rest of the world go by, not if one wants to be happy. So Mary had mingled, a hard task for her, recast, found some happi- ness. Again even though so long a time had elapsed, she felt slighted and wanted to cry her heart out as she thought back over the ten years. Some people looking back upon moments of joy, pain, sadness or embarrassment can smile at the emotions which impelled them then. At that moment Mary could not do this. She must experience again the joy or pain. Oh! Only too well she remembered that bitter-sweet day. She had worn her new pink dress because her grade was to have a valentine party. She loved that dress. It was so soft and had such beautiful frilly lace on it. She had almost cried with joy when her mother had allowed her to wear it all day, even though the party was only in the afternoon. Page Fourteen

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Ol lllll l THE CHEVRON ! l WHEELER, WARREN And still they gazed and still the wonders grew, , That one small head should carry all - he knew. Chevron Staff C1, 2, 3, 415 Business Manager Signor Prize Essay C315 Signor Prize,Speaking Contest C315 Glee Club C3,'415 Science Club C3, 41, President C415 Slide Rule Club, President C415 Alabama Bound C415 Minick', C415 Inter- class Debate C415 Oratorical Contest C415 Valedictorian WHITE, LUCILE No beauty is like the beauty of the mind. Art Club C115 Chevron Staff C3, 415 Newswriting Club C315 King Ar- 1 gimenes and the Unknown Warrior C315 O Kay C315 Science Club C415 In Honor of Vergil C415 Minick C415 Interclass Debate C415 Class Donor C41. WOODRUFF, RUTH She listened with a Hitting blush, With downcast eyes and modest grace: And she forgave me that I gazed To fondly on her face. Glee Club Cl, 2, 315 Bells of Beau- jo1ais C115 Chevron Staff C3, 415 Signor Prize Contest C315 King Ar- gimenes and the Unknown Warrior C315 Alabama Bound C41 5 Minick C415 O Kay C31. WRIGHT, FRANCES Fail I alone in words and deeds, Why all men strive and who suc- 5 ceeds? 1 Seems Club 449- A SENIOR'S PHILOSOPHY The happy days that we have spent Within thy hallowed walls are passed- And 1ife's new vistas rise before our eyes With promise of achievement and reward- The future, bright and fraught with hope With beckoning finger lures us on- To sterner tasks, More splendid victories. And yet dear Alma Mater We know full well The love We bear thee Will remain While life shall last -D. Weeks, IV. Page Thirteen

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0l lIlll l THE CHEVRON l ! O At half-past eight she had half run, half skipped downstairs with a brand new nickel clutched tightly in' her small, hot hand. In exchange she had re- ceived two really pretty valentines. Pausing every ten hops or skips to look at the valentines she had hurried to school. One by one, her classmates marched to the teacher's desk and whispered in her ear the name of him or her to whom he wished to send the valentines. At last her turn came. To her dismay the teacher told her that the girls had to send their valentines to boys. Mary, perplexed, whispered the first two names that came to her head, the names of the boys who sat in front of her and behind her. Mary had been a quiet child. She could not mingle freely with the other children. She tried, oh so many times, but she couldn't. She felt older than the rest of the children. She had no close friends. Except for another incident the morning passed by joyously for Mary. A boy, Louis Sorn, whom she detested had sent an inquiring glance at her while deciding to whom he should send his valentine. She had vigorously shaken her head and sighed relievedly when he had glanced about the room again. At noon she could hardly eat her dinner. It seemed she would never have time enough to put on her new dress, which she had taken off so that she wouldn't spot it. Slowly, oh so slowly the hands of the clock turned. The bell! Two o'clock. The party began. Ray Lorry, one of the big boys, had been chosen postman. He had delivered the valentines. She had quivered expectantly every time he strode up her aisle. Then, with a feeling of terror and something undescribable she had realized that all the valentines had been passed out and that she hadn't received a single one! It was unbelievable. There must be one, at least one. Maybe it was in the very bottom of the bag. But no, not a single one for her. A queer lump formed in her throat. No, she mustn't cry. She bit her trembling, tell-tale lip until she realized the pain even through the over-power- ing emotions that controlled her. Then the teacher noticed that Mary had no valentines. Before Mary could act or speak she had said, Children, Mary has not received a valentine. Lena, won't you give her one? lLena had received hfteenj. Lena had pettishly answered, No, I got them, they're mine. I won't give her any. A wave of shame and anger rushed over Mary. Shame at the thought of the whole room knowing that she had received no valentine and anger at the teacher and Lena. The lump in her throat was growing bigger and bigger. It wouldn't let the ice-cream, cake and candy that were served go down. How the time crept. The time between the clicks of the minute hand seemed interminable. Would they ever be excused so that she could go home? She wanted to cry. She had to cry. But not before the class. No! She would die ilrst. At last she could go. She rushed home blindly. She crept up the stairs, hazy through a mist of tears that could be held back no longer. Stumbling, she had groped to the darkest corner of the darkest closet and she had cried and cried. A bright tear fell on the biggest and reddest of Janet's hearts. -Tulia Brunetti. Page Fifteen