Barre High School - Barretone Yearbook (Barre, MA)

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10 THE BARRETOXE NORTH PARK ' I he history of North I’ark or the northern ])art t)f Harre eoininon. is very interesting-. I have oiten wondered why it is tliat this particular spot slipuld he entirely fenced in, while the rest of the common is open. ears ago this park was given to the town of Barre. It as to he used for no other j urpose than as a park and on no condition W£ivS the fence which surrounded it, to he taken down. As soon as this fence is removed the land will immediatelv return to the descendants of its jjrevious owners. It was lirst used as a picnic ground and a place to hold band concerts. Later the hand-stand was removed. Since the Civil War a monument, to the men of Barre who fought in the war, was erected in the center of the i)ark. Another monument dedicated to the men of Barre who fought in the World War was unveiled Armistice Day, nineteen hundred and twenty-nine. Mae Wilson, ' , 0. AN ELIZABETHAN AND AN AMERICAN In 1620 a oung nobleman of England was be- witched by an old hag. She put him to sleep in a deep slumber that was to last until 1929. During this long period, his body was found, aud, since the i)eople supposed him to be a mummy, he was l)laced in a museum. An American, who saw him, was possessed with a desire to own him. Finally, this influential business-man bought him and brought him to America, where he put the noble- man in his collection of curios. There he has been staying ever since. It is now 1929. A boy of about eighteen years, the grandson of the business-man, is looking over his grandfather ' s collection. ■ ' oung American ; “I hope grandfather leaves a few of these old things to me. They are mighty interesting. Take this mummy, for e.xample. It looks as if it would awake at any moment. Why, 1 must be dreaming! It’s opening its eyes! (Pinches himself). Ouch! I am awake !’’ (interval of several seconds.) Young Nobleman : “Who are vou. and where am I?” . A. : “Well, I should like to know what you think you are. You have been dead for ages and ages, and now you wake uj)! N. : “What! Dead! This isn’t heaven, is it? Does everyone here wear clothes like yours?” Y. A. ; “Of course this isn’t heaven. Right now x’ou’re ill uiy grandfather’s house in New ' urk City, aud all the fellows wear clothes like this.” N. : “Where is New York City?” y. “In the Cnited States of .America. I ' hat’s w here.” . N. ; “Oh . merica ! But how did 1 get here.- ” A.: “My grandfather brought you over here fifty years ago.” y. Xb : “W ell, 1 don’t remember that. The last thing 1 can remember is going to the theatre in 1620.” y. A.: “1620! it is now 1929’’ i. .N. : “Wliere have I been all this time?” . A. : “1 don t know. But Fll tell you what we’ll do. Let’s go to the theatre ; that’ll give you the thrill of your life. Come on!” Y. N. ; “W hat’s a thrill?” (They leave the room. We see them ne.xt in the theatre. The young nol)leman has a look of astonishment on his face. ) Y. A. : “Well, what do you thinK of our the- atre ?” Y. N. : “Where is the sky?” y. A . ; “You see there is a roof that covers the building so you can’t see the sky.” Y. N. : “(Jh ! Our theatres have no roofs like that. By the way. where is the stage? Is that little ])lace all the peo])le act on?” y. A.: “Oh no. pretty soon the curtain will be raised and then you can see the stage. Oh, there it goes !” Y. N. : “Wdiy, what are those trees doing on the stage? And where are the ])lacards to an- nounce the settings and everything?” Y. A. : “The trees are the setting. You see, they try to make everything look as real as possi- ble now. They don’t use placards any more.” Y. N. : “Those l)oys make very beautiful girls. They act natural too.” Y. A. : “Boys ! Girls ! They are girls !” Y. N. : “You let girls act on the stage? But that’s not ])roper. you know.” ' S ' . A. : “It’s pro])er enough now. Old Man.” (.Silence reigns for a few minutes.) Y. N. : “What comfortable chairs you have here. Back home we had only benches or boxes to sit on, or else we stood up. Most everybody stood in the pit. Where do the common peo- l)le stand today? I don’t see any pit.” Y. .A. : “No. Everybody has a chair like we have. Some seats are better than others, but they are all ujiholstered. Now let’s listen to the play and talk afterwards.” Adele Dunbar. ’30.

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THE BARRETONE 9 SKY DREAMS li I could some (lay in my airplane go High n] above the trees and huge white clouds, And look far down njion the gathered crowds. How ha]i])y, thrilled, o’erjoyed I’d he — to know That I had left the earth far, far below. W ' hat sjiort, what thrills, to make the struts sing loud. I ' d dive. I’d loop, next roll, then bank,- — so proud d ' o show the crowds the stunts that I could do. In dreams an object small ajipears on high. It slowly, slowly, comes into my sight. Then faster, faster, it goes speeding by. From out the daylight and into the night; It never falters, never gives a sigh. Just strives onward, humming in powerful flight. Richard Harrington, ’.10. A SWISS MARKET SCENE In front of the hotel was the outlet of the lake of Lucerne, do the left, a long, low, cove - ' ! brown bridge, built by Caesar, stretched across the blue water. In the center, a little to the right, was a hexagonal stone fortress, wearing a caj) of red shingles surmounted by a stork’s nest. On the nearer side of the river, market day was held for the forty thousand inhabitants of Lu- cerne. Before the mists had risen from the near- est . lps the ])rospective sellers had jmshed their scpieaking wooden carts down from their chalets, ' fhe conveyances now rested with their handles placed on the railing which ran between the walk and the river. Here one cart was loaded with fruits — pears, apples, grapes and small berries very much like blueberries. Near this was cme filled with fresh-killed birds. -V casual onlooker would observe at first noth- ing very i)eculiar about the bartering from our point of view. Still. apl)les were weighed to the twentieth of a cent. Lvery merchant trustfnll - let his customers help themselves, receiving his ])ay at the convenience of the buyer. In the whole district there was one duck. ' I ' his appealed to a middle-aged, well-dressed man. At first he picked it uj) and smelled of it. Im])atieutly he threw it down. . pj)areutly he sus] ected its freshness. 11c wandered off. In a few moments he again found himself at the stand. ' I ' his time he very carefully ])inched the mallard. .Still he was skei)tical. He (|uestioned the busy seller. Cn- satisfied he again departed to make another tour of the stands. When the markets were closing, he again appeared hastily. He rushed up to the stand, and after giving the duck a close scrutiny, bought the coveted bird, with an air of great sat- isfaction. Peter Pauli, ’.10. A NEAR TRAGEDY One cold night in the Yellowstone National Park, just as 1 was falling asleep in the pup tent, 1 heard a slight noise. It sounded like the focat- falls of an incpiisitive bear. It ha])pened that I was sleeping nearest the closed end of the tent, and that the animal was coming towards me. As the sound aiiproached, I had visions of a bear stepping upon me, hugging me, and being otherwise play- ful, Hy hair stood upon end, and in spite of eight wcaolen blankets, shivers ran up and down my s])ine. Then, for the first time since I had left home, I was glad the tent had an open end, be- cause if that bear ever started to come in I had de- cided to go out. The fla]) suddenly sagged as if the bear had ])Ut his paw on it. I decided it was time to leave. Out the open end of the tent I fled. 1 didn’t so much as look back until 1 was a long wav off. Then, as I heard no semnd of pursuit, I glanced over luv shoulder. All I saw was one scared chipmunk, leg ' ging it for dear life in the op- ]iosite direction, ' I ' homas Pauli, ’.12, THE FIELD MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY The Field Museum of Natural History is situat- ed on the shore of Lake Michigan, Tnis immense stone buihbng is a magnificent examjde of archi- tectural beauty. However, the building itself can- not be comjiared with the jiriceless treasures which it houses, . s one enters the huge main room, or waiting room,, one sees first a large, stuffed ele]diant and a hip])opotamus. Around the edges of the room are cases of articles which have great historic V due. Benches occtipv the remaining sl ' ace. ' fhree es])ecially interesting things are, an old Fgyj)tian mummy, a huge tomb whose walls arc covered with hierogly])hic writings, and the varied costumes rud wea];ous of Indians and other sav- age jieople, . nyoue who i)lans to go to Chicago will cer- tainly not want to miss this museum which con- tains some of the most interesting collections ot 1 i toric curios in the world, Ian Turner, ’32,

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THE BARRETONE 11 THE STORM W hen the rain is falling from on high And all the fleecy clouds are black and gray — Wdien howling east-wind blows his stormy way O ' er all the hills and vales and seas and sky — When water drenches leaves and flowers and trees And thunder roars, and lightning streaks the air — When wind is wrecking homes of birds and bees And all things droop which once were bright and fair — 1 sit alone and think of God’s great love And care for those who live on this large earth. He watches o’er us all from time of birth And sends us blessings, gifts from u]) above. His storm He makes o’er all the world to rove To prove His strength and love to sky and earth. Elza Dahart, ’30. THE APPROACH OF THE CIRCUS PARADE At first, a faint strain of music fell on our eager ears, growing louder every moment. Soon, around the bend, hand-players pranced into view in their gala suits of red and gold. By us ploughed the gi- gantic ele])hant, his ears cocked and his tail switching, while his awkward hoofs scraped the pavements, .‘ we-strickcn. we held our breath, as a ferocious lion, im])atiently pacing up and down in his cage, passed slowly by. How exciting it was to see the spry monkeys, bushy bears, spot- ted zebras and angry tigers glare at us from their gilt cages. Ah, at last! The greatly-antici] ated acrobats, clothed in scarlet costumes. ])osed as their gayly-trimmed carriages were drawui slowly by. The piquant, side-show queen, the living skel- eton. the fat woman, and the snake-charmer claimed our attention each in her turn, ft was with a .sigh of regret that we watched the rear band-men flash by in their bright costumes and head ' d the gay music gradually fade away. Anna McAndrew. ’32. LES FLAMBEAUX D’ARGENT Une scene dramatisee de “Hes Miserables de ' ictor Hugo f’ersonnages Jean Valjean, un forcat Monseigneur Bienvenu Myriel, un evecpie Mademoiselle l)ai)tistine. sa soeur Trois Gendarmes Un Brigadier de Gendarmes Ha scene est a Digue, dans la petite maison de I’eveque. (On avait mis Jean Valjean en prison parce qu’ il avait vole un jiain pour sa famille mourante de faim. Apres un long emprisonnement, on 1 avait mis a liberte. Gomme il n’avait pas jm descendre. il avait jiasse la nuit avec Monseigneur Bienvenu. I’endant la nuit, Jean Valjean avait echappe avec de I’argenterie (|u’il avait vole de 1 evecpie. Quand revecpie s’est leve le matin prochain, on I’a dit cpie Jean Valjean avait vole I’argenterie. ) (Monseigneur Bienvenu et sa soeur dejeunent. C)n frappe a la jiorte. ) M. Ibenvenu : Entrez ! (La porte s’ouvrit. Un groupe etrange et violent apparet sur le seuil. Trois gendarmes tenent Jean aljean an collet. Un lirigadier. entre et s ' avance vers I’eveque en faisant le saint militaire; Monseigneur Bienvenu s’ap- jiroche vivement.) M. Bienvenu: . h ! Vo us voila ! Je suis aise de vtms voir. Eh bien, mois ! Je vous avaiz don- ne les chandeliers aussi, qui sont en argent comme le reste et dont vous pourrez bien avoir deux cent francs. Brigadier: Monseigneur, ce que cet homnie disait etait done vrai Xous 1 avons rencontre. Il avait cette argenterie M. Bienvenu: (en souriant) Et il vous a dit qu ’elle lui avait ete donnee par lecpiel avec qui il avait passe la nuit? Je vois la chose. Et vous I’avez rameue ici. C’est une meprise. Brigadier : Gomme cela, nous iiouvons le laisser aller ? . Bienvenu: Sans doute. (Les gendarmes lach- ent Jean bdjean. qui recule.) J. Valpean: Kst-ce que c’est vrai qu’on me laisse? M. Bienvenu: Mou ami. avant de vous en aller. void VOS chandeliers. Prenez-les. ( 11 a a la cheminee. ju ' end les deux flambeaux, et les ai)]’iorte a J. Valjean, qui tremble.) M. Bienvenu: Maintenant. allez en paix. (Se tournant vers les gendarmes) Messieurs, vous lM)Uvez vous retirer. (T.es gendarmes s’eloigu- nent.) ( L’eve(|Ue s’ai)proche J. X ' aljean.) M. Bienvenu: X’oubliez pas, n’oubliez jamais |ue vous m’avez i)romis d’emi)loyer cet argent ])our devenir honnete homme. Jean Valjean. mon frere. vous n’a])i)artenez plus au mal, mais au bien. G’est votre ame (|ue je vous achete ; je la retire aux i)enses noires et a I’esprit de ])erdition, et je la donne a Dieu. (J. Valjean sortit.) Gladys Abbott. ’30