Brattleboro Union High School - Colonel Yearbook (Brattleboro, VT)

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6 sunset? However, the sisters dreaded not the death that was almost upon them, ut- most faith in God sustained their spirits. If it were their fate to die in a just cause, gladly would they give their lives. Sudden- ly they were startled by greater confusion and din than in the battle nearby. In- stinctively all eyes turned to the picture over the altar. But was it a picture? No, the Christ in all his glory with the angels of heaven stood before them in a dazzling light. No longer was this the work of an artistls brush on heavy canvas. The King of Glory was advancing toward them, His face glowing with life and His eyes shining in the joy of their faith in Him who died that they might live. With His coming they were safe and were ready to die. Slowly, slowly the vision receded until it was but a picture again. Was not this vision the greatest gift to man since the birth of Christ? They huddled together in the center of the chapel still quivering from this wonderful experience. The battle sounded nearer and nearer until the very voices of the Turks could be distinguished outside, The enemy bat- tled against the massive, bolted door. The great door gave away before the heavy, sharp, weapons of the Turks and now no remnant remains of the place where long years ago a great sacrifice followed a great joy, fEVELYN THURBER, '27 TO THE CHRISTMAS MOON O moon, do you think With your cold white light You can hide The Star From man's view tonight? Through heaven you move With a frozen beam Are you jealous, afraid You'll be dimmed by its gleam? If God wished to send That Light here once more Not a thousand moons Nor a thousand more Could hide its gold glow From the watcher's eye, Vain small moon above In a boundless sky. --MARION RICE, '26. CONFERENCE The DIAL was represented in the confer- ence at Burlington on October 3lst for the editors, business managers and faculty ad- visors of the school papers in Vermont. The conference included speeches by Pro- fessor Tupper of the University of Ver- mont and VValter Crockett of Burlington. The discussions concerning the school magazines proved to be very interesting, and the representatives of the DIAL greatly appreciated the opportunity to attend it. Ciba tal CHRISTMAS IN THE LAND OF THEOREMS Extracts from a Journal. I have just had a very strange experi- ence although anyone else might call it a dream. I was lying on the couch gazing thoughtfully out of the window. My Geometry book was before me, but the scene outside that window was much more interesting in my estimation. Outside great white flakes of snow were floating lazily down. I was dimly conscious of the shouts of those sliding on the hill. In fact, there was every inducement not to study in spite of the Geometry test on the morrow. I had been told that I must study, so with a faint sigh I returned to my book. Suddenly I became conscious of the spicy scent of balsam and spruce. Glanc- ing up in surprise I found I was in a large hall draped with evergreen. In its center stood a large tree-which to my prejudiced eyes closely resembled an isos- celes triangle. At its foot was a great number of packages, square, rectangular, and circular in form, and all geometrieally perfect. Now a confused bustle could be heard outside and the door flew open with a crash. In came a crowd of people, headed by a tall, angular individual who reminded me of the theorem concerning angles which I had just been studying. Then I saw that all of them resembled theorems which I had studied at one time or another. That tall, very upright young man was doubtless a theorem about right triangles or right angles when he was in the book and I was sure that those pompous, important look- ing personages were rules! Probably those three girls who were so constantly rear- ranging the ornaments of 'the room were construction problems and those three pairs of twins might have been theorems about parallel lines. My speculations were interrupted by the booming voice of the most important rule of all. CI say he was the most important because he was more pompous, fat and self- conscious than any of the othersj He ap- proached me and said, We fear that you do not study as much as you should, We know that you think Geometry is dull and uninterestingg but We wish to show you that there is a practical and interesting side to it. He then told me to stand beside him near the pile of packages. Turning to his fol- lowers he said, Friends, as is our custom, we have selected a person to join us in this Christmas festival. VVe hunted all over this world until we found in Brat- tleboro High School the student who would be most benefitted by meeting us. You now see her and I hope that you will give her a fitting welcome! He paused and at once my strange hosts and hostesses crowded around me. Mr. Rule tfor that was his namej introduced me to his friends and among them was a Mr. Axiom who tock me over to a window. When I looked out, I saw a large bridge which was made up entirely of triangles. That, he said, when he saw my surprise, is the Bridge of Fools. The wise pass over it in safety, but the careless fall into the River of Ignorance below, and are lost. tHe seemed to imply that I'd fall off.J Then he led me back to the tree and to Mr. Rule. Mr, Rule started to give out the various packages. He handed me a cylindrical package but I didn't open it immediately since Mr. Rule had requested that no packages should be opened until they had all been given out. When the last name had been called I opened my package with eager fingers. I found that my gift from the Geometry People was a parchment scroll. The writing on it was in hieroglyphics but strange as it may seem I had no difficulty in reading them. The translation of the first few words was as follows. A Treatise on Geometry by Eu- clid, property of the Alexandrian Library. just then I heard music and I discovered that at the farther end of the room was stationed an orchestra, although never be- fore had I seen its equal. One man played a large cylinder as though it were a drum and the others played square and trian- gular instruments for which I could see no use. The wind instruments Cat least that is what I think they werej were all cone- shaped. At any rate they produced music and soon everyone was singing this: Oh, we are the folk of Geometry Land Wliere grows the Geometry Tree. And amazingly bright Geometry Sharks Swim in a Knowledge Sea. Our land is a perfect rectangle Pointing North, South, East and West And we flatter ourselves That of all the World VVe know Geometry best. Xklith the last chord of the orchestra I realized that everything was indistinct and hazy ...... I next became aware of a sharp pain in my side, XfVhen I looked dazedly about me I found that there were no people in the room and that I was lying on the floor clutching, instead of my precious scroll, a common, ordinary text book on Geometry by Webster Wells, 1915 edition. I arose and with a sigh-it wasn't faint this time- went back to studying that angular theo- rem. -ETHEL BARBER, '28 HMIRIAM BROWN, '28 Christmas comes but once a year, but it takes the rest of the 364 days to write the acknowledgments.

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their respective rooms and Junior was sent to bed. There would be no punishment that night, for it was too late. But both parents and children feared the inevitable in the morning. With a terrible grimness the Rev. Sprague gathered up the tree and its gifts and bore them down to his wife who was quite overcome by the recent act of re- bellion. My dear, said the pastor, grandly plac- ing his burden on the table, you and I know all too well the seriousness of this disobedience and irreverence, and our chil- dren must be severely dealt withfl But, Edward, interposed Mrs. Sprague timidly, I haven't a doubt but that their intentions were good and they are yet too young to realize the irreverence of their act-as you call it, she added hesitatingly. I think you are much too lenient with the offendersf' replied her husband, aroused, yet still courteous. 'tFor ten years have I not attempted to impress upon them how irreverent and sacreligious it is to hold festivities upon theanniversary of the birth of our Savior? Have I not explained repeatedly in what way the presentation of gifts to Christ, nearly two thousand years ago and the give-and-take affair of today, differ? No, at this time I doubt the good intentions even of my own children.', Really believing her husband to be cor- rect, Mrs. Sprague did not respond, but picked up one of the contraband gifts and curiously examined it. Carried further by her curiosity she even opened it to find f'From Eleanor to Junior a necktie, plain- ly homemade but none the less gay. Think as she could the mother could not remem- bered her daughter's sewing within the past month. More secrets! Somehow the hours of labor to which this small cravat testified checked the remark upon the cler- gyman's lips about presenting such a gaudy gift at-such a time. Rev. Spra'gue's curiosity in turn aroused, he picked up a box upon which was scrawled To Ioan from Junior. When opened this disclosed a handmade doll bed. Now, junior's many evenings spent in the workshop were accounted for. If the lad but knew how his parents' anger wilted when they understood how his leisure time had been spent! Anxious to see what their youngest and favorite child had given they both reached for a small, poorly wrapped package for Eleanor. Mrs. Sprague gasped when she viewed the contents of this-Joan's treas- ured necklace. She knew so well how her small daughter loved this bit of jewelry, and yet she was ready to sacrifice that when she had nothing else to offer. At once both parents sensed the spirit of sacrifice in their children and this desire to please one another when their parents failed. . r Zllihe tal After sitting silently for a long time the reverend summed up both his wife's and his own thoughts by saying, To think that we should be shown the true spirit of Christmas by our own children. And through disobedience, added his wife. -MIRIAM Firrs, '27. A VISION During the time of the Holy Crusades many monasteries and nunneries were founded, both on the route to the Holy Land and near the cities of the Holy Land. Wliile the Crusades were taking place, these establishments where men and women might go to spend their entire lives for God, were subject to severe attacks by the Turks. These monasteries and nun- neries were built of heavy gray stone with large stone walls around the outside, giv- ing them a somber and desolate appearance. They were isolated from the village, the nuns believing that in being away from the social life of non-Christians they could better lead pure, undefiled lives. Their life was the same, day after day, year after year. They all had certain duties to perform at such a time, certain hours in which to sleep and eat also. The nunneries were really small colonies in themselves for they were entirely independent of the vil- lages around them. The nuns grew their own food and made their own clothes. Each day they went through the same routine, in the morning doing their regular work and later in the day studying, print- ing or reading. Our story opens in one of the newly founded nunneries of Constantinople, so that it is centered very near the Turks. It was Christmas eve, the first Christmas eve this nunnery in a foreign It was late, and, since the were finished the sisters to be spent in land for many. evening duties gathered from all parts of the nunnery in- to the one large room, a reading room. The late sun was unable to enter the room because of the huge gray walls which made nuns it oppressively dark and cold. The were all dressed alike in leaden gray robes with no ornaments other than golden- crosses on chains. They all held in their hands the Bibles which they themselvesihad printed. They seated themselves upon long, rough, wooden benches which extended round the room, This evening service was the only time during the day that they all assembled together and the only time when they could converse. They all filed in with the same solemnity of expression .which they had borne throughout the day, and talked in low tones together. Sister Theresa and Sister Cerice, the head nuns, came in last, Sister Cerice at one end of the long room and Sister Theresa-at the other. The few tall candles around the room were lighted and the evening service began 5 with Sister Theresa reading several chap- ters from the Bible and the others follow- ing her, reading in their own books. VVhen she finished, several chants were sung and they talked in groups of two's and three's. The general subject was the work of the terrible Turks. There had recently been a fearful massacre a few miles distant in Constantinople where they had burned the schools, churches and monasteries, as well as every home they could reach, cruelly shutting the people into the buildings and setting them on fire, burning them alive or dragging them out to be killed with axes, and knives. Every day the Turks were drawing nearer and nearer but every day these nuns Ukept the faith and even seemed to grow more serene and silent, ap- parently oblivious of the catastrophe that might come upon them at any moment. Each day might be their last, each hour, or each moment, but still they showed no outward signs of grief or despair. Soon they began talking of their Christmases at home, what fine times they had had, of the Christmas dinners and gifts, but these were only memories. No more would they ex- change gifts and sing jolly Christmas songs for they were confined to lead the life of nuns by the holy vows of the church. After this first service they had a lunch in the refectory or dining-room. Here a very simple supper was served consisting only of the foods which could be grown on their farm. The refectory was long and narrow with plain benches running along each side of the one long table. The meal was very short, no one being allowed to speak during it. After all had finished, they went across the open courtyard to the chapel on the further side. It was an im- posing building, the only one with any elab- orate trimmings. It presented a striking contrast to the other plain square buildings of the nunnery. Inside, the ceiling was high and slanted down on either side with carved beams and supports of Gothic archi- tecture. The altar and platform were finely carved and a large Bible lay open upon the desk. Back of this platform and high up was a painting of Christ,-wonderfully colored, and illuminated by candelabra on either side. Filing slowly into the chapel, the sisters took their places for prayers, not in rows and close together but separated, in dif- ferent parts of the room the better to con- centrate their minds on holy things. In their seats they sang a chant together and then reverently knelt towards the altar to pray. It was truly a time for prayer, for the din of the fighting was heard not far off. The terrible Turks were drawing nearer to seize upon the nunnery and mur- der these sisters. A track of desolation and death they had left the entire four hundred miles behind them and this nun- nery was to be added tothe list. Were they never to look upon another sunrise, another

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gljmljmmmmmmmljmg U Parva Sed Apta U E U UUUUUUEIUUEDUEE CHRISTMAS SKETCHES Merry home-comings,-portals gay with garlands, lofty hallways with their sprigs of mistletoe, rows of flickering tapers of mystic fragrance-Glad Noel! lk 4: 4: Pk 4: 42 Ik lk 4: 4: Pk A soft pattering of tiny feet on the stair- way and over the balcony, chubby faces of youngsters, feverish with excitement. Squeals of delight, and open-mouthed won- dermcnt are inevitable as the Christmas room door opens, revealing longed-for playthings, hosts of candies, heaps of neatly wrapped gifts beneath the glittering tree. 4: x 4: Pk if 4: lk Pk 4: 4: Pk A huge moon with a golden path across the be-diamonded snow, a brilliantly lighted church tower, mellow chimes, now the jing-jing, now the ding-dong of sleigh-bells, an ideal Christmas Eve in the hamlet. -CLARA CRosIER, '26 ' MAGIC BEAUTY Snow! What a beautiful thing it is! In winter, when- the whole countryside is blanketed in the feathery whiteness of the snow, have you not often wondered what each and every flake looks like? Snow crystals are tiny six-pointed ice particles, incomparably beautiful and va- ried. The delicate tracery of many snow flakes is in solid and branching crystal forms of loveliness. Jewelers and art craftsmen have found inspiration in the varied and symmetrical forms of snowflake gems, of which no two are alike. New and unique patterns are continually being wrought in Nature's cloudland laboratory. For all time this annual miracle of the snows will occur and the favored regions of the Earth will be showered with count- less jewels of almost unbelievable beauty and magic. -ELEANOR ADAMS, '28 TREES IN WINTER All the trees in the first heavy snow- storm are trying to be Christmas trees. The maples hold the white burden as if it were no load at all and the graceful elm tree has an intricate feathery pattern among its branches. Trees are wonderful at every season, but their magnificence cannot be surpassed in the season when the snow coats each twig and limb. The pines and balsams lend charm to every winter landscape and the hillsides would seem bare if it were not for the The tal evergreens now drooping to the ground with the weight of the crystal covering. Then there are the tinsel-trimmed trees that give so much pleasure in the house on Christmas morning, with gayly colored glass balls and red, gold and green electric lights. These have an important place but I would rather have my tree out in the open where the wind can toss it and roar through its branches. -LOUISE PIER, '26 WHAT IS SNOW? Webster's Dictionary states that snow is watery particles congealed into white flakes in the air. Dad says snow is that pretty white sub- stance which causes that awful coal rbill, doctor's bill, shoe bill, and other bills too numerous to mention. mother is something which Snow to causes her a good deal of anxiety, because the children are continually wetting their feet and contracting terrible colds. To lack, who is a ski enthusiast, snow is delightful flakes of white, but it is a cruel reality the morning after that big snowstorm, which lack has been looking forward to so eagerly. When Mother calls him ten minutes ahead of time so that he can shovel that mile and a half of path from the front door to the sidewalk, Iack's definition of snow is, a horrid old mess that means nothing but drudgeryf' To sister Mary, snow means a fur coat, but alas it also means woolen stockings, and those tiresome overshoes which mother positively forbids her to unbuckle. To the artist, snow is the thing that makes the trees and the landscape more beautiful. To the dreamer, snow is that downy, white blanket which covers up the cruel realities of the world. What do you think snow is? -KATHERINE STONE, '28 BY MOONLIGHT A blinding, hissing, biting blizzard had raged all day and the lone packer had lost his way. The storm ceased about sundown and the packer camped near the top of a barren hill. Being busy making things shipshape and getting his supper he had not noticed his surroundings until, stepping from his tent after the meal he Was amazed by the beauty of the scene which lay be- fore him. The full moon shone clear and frosty over the dark purple crags of Old Topple- top jutting up out' of the distance. The air had grown rapidly colder and the snow, now crusted hard, sparkled like diamonds in the light, Every few moments there would be a sharp crack and some young fir tree would straighten up, its burden of shining icicles, shattered by the intense 7 cold, tinkling musically on the dazzling crust. Down on the edge of the woods the lower branches of a thick hemlock stirred slightly and a red fox stepped stealthily out, awed by this clear white world. Over in the spruce thicket on the other side of the knoll a deer crashed away through the woods, past a deep wooded ravine through which raged an unfrozen but chill torrent. An icy blast reminded the packer that he was standing out unheeding the biting coldness of the air, absorbed in the wonder of such loveliness. -H. MARCH, '26 THE SOLACE Alike on Held and city, on mansions and on hovels fall the flakes, changing even the most barren things to beauty. Muddy roads become white pathways stretching off into the distance, picket fences are tufted with little white mounds, and bleak arch- ways become fairy-like in their whiteness. Childish voices rend the air and ruddy cheeks glow in the falling twilight. And still it snows and snows, slowly and silently sifting down, down, in the darkening hours of a December afternoon. As we watched, a great calmness seemed to How over us. And just as God healed the scars on earth by this great white snowfall, so our woes and hardships were healed by its peaceful falling, falling. So a world of realities and sorrows was changed to a world of possi- bilities and of tomorrows. -KATHARINE LOCKE, ,26 CHRISTMAS It is Christmas eve. Everyone in the small town is hurrying, hurrying, trying to spread more Christmas cheer than they have already succeeded in giving. Last min- ute shoppers crowd the stores. The tired clerks try to do their best in satisfying the fussy purchasers. Evidently the people have not read in the papers how many shopping days there were before Christmas and the Do your Christmas shopping early signs. As the hour approaches six, business slackens. Houses are lighted up. Sleigh bells sound in the distance. The moon rises, shedding a pale blue light on the newly fallen snow. The hour grows later. The church clock strikes twelve. Near the house of an in- valid is a group of singers, carolling forth the Christmas story. The old English Carols sound celestial in the crisp night air. The village grows quiet. The night passes slowly and once more the town awakens to another Merry Christmas. -FRANCES BENNETT, '28 PATHOS OF A PESSIMIST Snow, snow, snowvthafs all it seems to do. The sun hasn't shone all day, all week, all year. Oh, I don't know when it did