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

Page 20 text:

CANAL CURRENTS, BOURNE HIGH SCHOOL little tin horn, unaware that her mother was watching her close- ly, Annette had a fleeting thought that he looked a bit silly — but what was she think- ing? Perhaps she was tired. When Rodney had bid her a reluctant good-bye with a prom- ise to visit her the following Monday (he was staying at a hotel in town for the week) and they started for home it was 2 A. M. and Annette was a bit glad to get away from all the noise. In the car she squeezed her mother’s hand. “I’m so happy,” she sighed. “Mother looks a lit- tle worried,” she thought vague- ly but comforted herself with the thought that she too was tired. At school the next few days Annette, called upon more than once by the teacher was caught gazing dreamily out of the win- dow. On Monday afternon she wait- ed patiently, dressed in her best. When at last his large tan road- ster drove up to the house she saw that he had another lady with him. She was about his age, well-dressed, and cleverly “made-up”. Annette admitted that they made a handsome couple. It was like a nightmare when she heard those fateful words but she could think about it now and even laugh a little over it. Rodney was saying, “This is my wife — Gladys.” The world seemed to tumble about her and for a moment she thought that she would faint. Strange that she hadn’t imagined him married before. It was almost impos- sible! Then a great noise was heard outside and the front door opened wide. It was Joe Hodges (dear old Joe). He poked his big bulk inside and yelled, “Hey An- nette, c’mon for a ride.” Making a few hasty apologies to her guests, she rushed out into the waiting “Ophelia” and they chugged noisily off. Rodney, upon leaving stood for a moment staring fixedly at his car. It looked a bit strange, and why? — All four tires were flat to the ground! Dolly Federici, ’39. Driving Carefully Today many lives are lost as a result of automobile accidents throughout the United States. Most of these accidents are due to reckless driving. Some drivers continue to vio- late the rules of safe driving, and not until an accident oc- curs, killing or injuring some- one, do such drivers realize the necessity of obeying traffic laws. Recently on the Cape one man was killed when a car went off a curve at high speed, crashed into a telephone pole and rolled down a bank. Such accidents have occurred again and again, and most certainly could have been prevented by more careful driving. We are indeed thankful to man who has given to us auto- mobiles, a great means of trans- portation. All men should co- operate in making this a safe means of transportation. Georgia Christopulos, ’40. Page Eighteen

Page 19 text:

CANAL CURRENTS, BOURNE HIGH SCHOOL to go through, that romantic, ex- citing time when older people, especially men who treat them importantly, appeal to them. An- nette was at this very stage now and so far there had been exact- ly three of them in her life, a retired polo-player, a grizzled war veteran, and a long-forgot- ten matinee idol. They were all nearly old enough to be her fath- er and took no special notice of her, yet she imagined herself madly in love with each of them. It never lasted more than three or four weeks at a time. Then it would wear off and she would act more natural again. Anyway, Annette’s mother was getting a little tired of the whole matter and like most mod- ern mothers of today, had a ready remedy for this problem of her daughter’s. It had never come into the spoiled girl’s mind to wonder why her mother and father had consented so quickly when she expressed her desire to spend the holiday at a night club of all places! They were both middle-aged, reserved, and re- tiring but tonight was New Year’s Eve and anything could happen. At last they were there, the great lights of the “Silver Slip- per” illuminating the whole block. Inside, all was noise and laughter, crowds, music, dancing, and much confetti. Somehow they reached a table and An- nette in her glory, a smile wreathing her face, flopped into a chair. “This is the life,” she thought and gazed happily around her. After a while, her mother and father joined the dancers and she was left alone sipping her ginger-ale, happy just to be there in the midst of it all. Soon her parents returned bringing with them — goodness, bringing with them the most dis- tinguished looking man she had ever seen! He was about 30, tall and slender, with finely chiseled features and a tiny mustache. His hair was dark brown con- taining faint white streaks at the temples which added to his attractiveness. “Could this be the friend whom Mother had mentioned?” she wondered vaguely as they threaded their way to her. Sure enough, his name was Rodney Townes (he was a native of England) and his first words were, “Why Jane, you never told me that you had such a grown-up and and pretty daughter.” From then on Annette was stricken. She felt a bit dizzy and warm. When he spoke to her she was unable to answer him with the “cute” retorts which had always been so ef- fective with the boys she knew. When he asked her to dance she knew the height of happiness. He was a perfect dancer, guiding her about without any apparent effort while telling her of his experiences in Egypt and she listened in breathless wonder. It was 11:45. Soon it would be midnight and waiters were dis- tributing paper hats, horns, con- fetti, and streamers to the pat- rons. Annette set her little hat at a rakish angle. Her mother and father followed suit and Rodney, not to be outdone, donned his. It was a ridiculous paper thing and when the band began to play “Auld Lang Syne” and Rodney began to blow his Page Seventeen

Page 21 text:

CANAL CURRENTS, BOURNE HIGH SCHOOL Our Living Room On Christmas Morn “Merry Christmas” is echoed from room to room, and the joy in our hearts rings out a merry peal on this frosty Christmas morn. It is no time for tears or sorrow unless one thinks that somewhere, someone is probably alone and without this wonder- ful Christmas joy that is bring- ing so much happiness to us. We utter a silent prayer for them and continue spreading our good cheer to everyone who happens to be near. The happiest moment of all is the moment when all the mem- bers of the family gather in the living room to take a part in the crowning event of the day. Gaz- ing upon the heavily laden tree with its festive air, silence pre- vails as our eyes fasten upon the shining star on the tip-top of the tree and we silently repeat the message it flickers: “Glory to God in the highest; and on earth peace and good will to- ward men.” Then a mad rush for gifts piled high under the tree and hanging from branches. Laughter and fun are predomin- ant and the living-room is filled with Santas — the joy of giving and then of receiving. There is a scrambling and tearing of gaily covered boxes and the noise of many toys. Everyone is hap- py. Soon the room is empty. Emp- ty of its merriness and cheer. Bits of festive paper and string are strewn about and decora- tions have been torn from the tree in some manner or other. Still glimmers the star with a weary light, but one that shines of hope and love and faith. No, Christmas isn’t just that happy moment of giving and receiving, its message lives throughout the year to come. “Glory to God in the highest, and on Earth, peace, and good will toward men.” Isabel Handy, ’41. My Ideal Of A Home “Home is where the heart is. Peace is where the home is.” My house will not be just a house to me, it will be home and peace. A home is not just a house with four walls, a roof, and a few rooms and windows, not a place where to eat and sleep, but something far more than that. I have read some- where that a man’s home is his sanctuary. This is a very true statement or should be. Very elaborate houses have been built for millions of dollars, but homes are not measured in dollars, or size and shape. Home to me spells peace, happiness, content- ment, and above all, love. My house will not be large in a ma- terial way, but will hold all the joy and love that can be imag- ined. My home will be founded upon love, not marble, and is not love more enduring than any material substance? I hope that my home will be a realization of these ideals. Theda Walker, ’41. Page Nineteen