Bourne High School - Canal Currents Yearbook (Bourne, MA)

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CANAL CURRENTS 19 Now, there was a romance in the village. Little Mary Ann had two suitors — an’ lemme tell you — they certainly gave the womenfolk something to talk about at Ladies’ Aid meetin’s. One lad, Ed — was a nice young fellar in our own village — and the other one — a fellar from the next town which wasn’t a thousand miles distance. He’d been away to the city — oh, he had those hi-falutin’ ways that all the girls liked — but he didn’t have much luck with Mary Ann. This other fellar, Cecil, got up a gang of fellars one night an’ while we was all peacfully sleepin’ (an’ snorin’ too — I reckon) they took the cannon. — Yes, sir! — jest like that! Wal, we didn’t know where ’twas first along but Ed, there — he was pretty mad. Long ’bout this time Cecil was first in Mary Ann’ eyes. She was a great admirer of bravery — that girl! Reckon Ed warn’t feelin’ so all-mighty happy either. ’Bout a month later Ed, he was a’actin’ awful funny — and I knew something was in the air but I couldn’t figure out whether it was a storm or sunny weather. Wal, Ed, he comes to me next day — all happy an’ bright — and says that everythin’s all ship-shape with Mary Ann. Seems Ed had made it sorta unhealthy round these parts for Cecil. Would you believe it? ‘Twarn’t ’til ‘bout a couple of years after Ed and Mary Ann were married that Cecil hove into port again. Wal, he starts a-teasin’ Ed — who’s really a peace- lovin’ critter — ’bout the “nice cannon we useter have! Ed didn’t say nothin’ but thet night I heard a gang o’ fellows go by in a wagon by the back road — ’But three hours later I heard ’em cornin’ back. Someone knocked on my window and whispered, “Capt’n Jed — are yo there?” I got up and — gosh- a-mighty! there was Ed and the cannon. Wal, we hid it in the barn under Melindy, (thet’s my wife) under Melindy’s old feather mattresses. Next mornin’ Cecil didn’t show up agin — we knowed he didn’t like to be laughed at! — That afternoon, whin I was out in the boat shop, putterin’ around — Mary Ann appeared at the door. She looked at me sorta suspiciously an’ said, “You’re a great friend of Ed’s, aren’t you, Capt’n Jed?“ An’ I said, “Yep! — an’ I’m proud to be! He’s done some- thing this village orter thank him for — but they won’t know much about it I reckon — leastways — not if he has his way ’bout it. Why, child! — he’s a hero — nothing like this here Cecil fellar!”

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18 CANAL CURRENTS Altogether, I would say, the business and health end of delivering papers outweighs the profit in money. I believe a few years on a good route has a big influence on one’s later life, and if it were possible I would recommend at least a few weeks on a newspaper route for every boy in his youth. The experience gained is invaluable, although he may not realize it. Of course, delivering papers is only a sideline or some might even call it a hobby, yet I believe a newspaper route does influence youth to some extent. Loring Huntley, ’36. ‘‘CECIL AND THE CANNON” In the history of a certain, small Cape Cod village we would find, if we took the time to look, a rousing story of patriotism and romance. Perhaps, today, a dose of that good, old fashioned patriotism would cure us of the state of dol- drums we seem to be in. Anyway, let’s listen to old Capt’n Jed, that old-time mariner who loves to spin yarns. Now lemme see — Why, I guess ’twas ’long ’bout 1865 when Isaiah Phinney cast a special cannon down at the village foun- dry. Now, that there cannon was some beauty — let me tell you! Fust, we had to decide jest what we should do with it. Wal — we had a meetin’ at the village hall — Captain Zabdiel Phineas Snow presided. (Humph; — “Captain” — an’ bet he niver handled a tiller). As usual, the ladies tried to run away with the whole show but — no, s ir! — fer once we stuck to our guns — and by gum fer once we won! The cannon was to be anchored on Memorial Hill right ’long side the flagpole. Now, believe me, young fellar — ’twarn’t no easy job to hoist that cannon up there. Captain Zabdiel Phineas Snow owned ’bout the strongest horse in the village but when we asked him for it he said somethin’ ’bout strainin’ his “inards” — meanin’ the horse, I reckon. — (No danger o’ straining Cap- tain Zabdiel Phineas Snow’s pocketbook — ’lest ’twas from tryin’ to save too much in it!) Wal — we finally hoisted the cannon up there — Ed, he did the worst part — and set it jest aft’ of the bow of the hill. My, but it did look purty! On the fourth of July the women folk made bags for the cartridges for the gun and ivery time a vessel put into port that day they saluted with a shot from the cannon. Jest at sunset they shot the “sunset gun” — I can see it now — jest as plain as if ’twas today.

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20 CANAL CURRENTS Mary Ann — she sorta blushed an’ said — “Well Captain Jed, I always did think Ed was a hero but he would have taken an awful long time to propose if it hadn’t been for Cecil!” Margaret Matheson, ’35. FRANKNESS When anyone says, “To be perfectly frank,” As preface to further remark, I know he’s about to say things that are rank To which I must patiently hark. He’ll haul all my faults into pitiless light. And strip the truth woefully crude. For “frankness” implies, if I read it a-right, “Get ready, I’m going to be rude”. No one ever say, “To be perfectly frank, I think you are noble and smart.” Oh no! It’s a sign they’re preparing to yank Your character roughly apart. So when “to be frank” is the opening phrase, I shudder, prepare to endure Opinions of all my actions and ways. Which will not be pleasant, I’m sure. We say we want frankness from all of our friends. But when it comes down to a test. We find that our comradeship frequently ends. Through frankness too frankly expressed. So neither your character, brother, nor mine. Of fault and of follies is blank. Then let us forget them; we’ll get along fine. By not being perfectly frank. Charles A. Neal, 36.