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Page 28 text:
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Canal Currents Bourne High School EPISODES IN CHEMISTRY There is a class named chemistry Which most of the time is fun; But when it comes to writtens,” We usually feel quite dumb. There’s something about this chemistry That always amazes me; You pour a white liquid into some yellow And lo and behold, it’s green! All sorts of magic take place all the time, And this is half of the fun; But when you get that sixth unknown” All the magic is gone! It’s all very well to putter around In the lab, making quite a mess; But enough is enough,” my classmates say When I start making H S. 2 Emily Bigelow, ’47 MESSRS. STAR UR A AND COADY Messrs. Stahura and Coady kidded each other About who was the better man. One claimed he had more hair on his head So they wanted a contest then. Mr. Stahura made the rulings He was sure that he would win But the sum of the hair came out even The sum came out two times ten. Now they can’t kid each other anymore Because they both are bald. They counted so strenuously They left no hair at all. Margaret Aylmer, ’4( WISHING I wish I were a teacher smart. All problems I coiild do, I’d never have to work for grades. My schooling would be through. Instead I’m just a pupil dumb. My powers are so few, You wait; the joyous time will come. I’ll be a teacher, too!! Richard Forsyth, ’47 Page Twenty-six
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Page 27 text:
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Bourne High School Canal Currents REPRIEVE We go to school to learn, they say What’s in those drab textbooks. The same routine goes on and on, We heed the teacher’s looks. The let-up comes two nights a week. The nights we disobey The rime worn rule to do homew ' ork When there’s a game to play. Kenneth Jenkins, ’47 FOR ME AND YOU I was sitting by the window ' on a bright and early morn, It was the start of a new ' day, just a w ' hile after daw ' n. As I looked dow ' n on the meadow ' s. And the fields before my door. It brought back all God’s beauty Which He’d made eons before. The green-tipped trees- were filled w ' ith birds. And the meadow’s w ' ere tipped w ' ith dew. And it came to my mind that this w ' as God’s gift. His splendor given free to me and to you. Isabel Perry, ’47 WISHING ON A STAR Wishing on the evening star Gives one a certain calm delight. It never gets you very far But kind of sees you through the night. It may be just a silly thing Yet one you so desire. That little star just seems to sing; His pride you must admire. He takes his place in heaven above So all alone in space. Just give him one small w ' ink of love. He’ll keep your luck in place. Nanc} ' Stephenson, ’47 WITH APOLOGIES TO THE OLD-TIME BALLADS There w ' as a young mian from Cape Cod Who W ' as buried six feet ’neath the sod A thorn from his side And a rose from his bride Grew ' out to be joined by the Lord. Gordon Denison, ’47 Page Tiventy-jive
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Page 29 text:
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Bourne High School Canal Currents THE QUESTION After our graduation what then? What happens when boys become young men? And little girls grow up too fast? The thrill of youth! How long does it last? These are questions that are puzzling me, But my future I do not want to see. My life would soon lose all its zest So not to know I believe is best. Vivian Trench, ’46 WORLD PEACE Now our minds are filled with the thought That peace and happiness should be brought To us, though brotherhood of man. And unity in every land. This peace can only be achieved By work and strife it is believed. Through trust and faith in God and man, Hatred, suffering, and wars we shall ban. Phyllis Harrison, ’46 MIGHTY EARLE AT BAT Ginger on the mound, Earle up to bat. Ginger hurls the ball, Earle goes down flat. Earle’s up to bat again With revenge in his eyes. Past goes the ball Earle nearly dies. Two strikes on mighty Earle As Ginger hurls once more. Past goes the ball As Earle hits the floor. Three strikes on mighty Earle As the umpire yells, You’re out!’’ The crowd’s a mass of roars And Earle begins to pout. It is now inning seven And Earle’s up to the bat. Ginger hurls the ball Earle swings the bat. The ball comes flying through the air AS Earle is rounding third. The crowd is cheering more than before The ball still flies like a bird. The score is nine to seven. For mighty Earle has done his best. The team had gotten six And Earle got all the rest. Herbert Ellis, ’46 DREAM If I were rich, I would build me a home, Down by the sea where it’s whipped to a foam. I’d build it small, but I’d build it strong. I’d build it to live in for ever so long. There I would live for many a year. In peace and quiet with nary a fear. And when I died, they could lay me home, Down by the sea where it’s whipped to a foam. John Dixon, ’46 Page Twenty -seven
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