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

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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

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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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8 last shine, but it seems like a century ago. I step outside and freeze to death. I stay inside and have the Hbluesf' And then they say, 'fSuch wonderful cold, crisp air. It's so invigorating. Isn't it just fine, twen- ty below zero, and coal so scarce you have to buy it by the spoonful, not knowing when there'll be more. It seems to be getting warmer and snow- ing less, and I begin to feel better and so go out, and in about half an hour the land is turned into an ocean of slush, and the rain is pouring down my neck. I rush back home to get warm and dry, and I find the house cold, damp, and the fire out. I go downstairs for kindling, and the cellar is half full of water. I go upstairs and the paper's in ruins and the floor and ceiling soaked. I'm miserable. Yes, I love the winter and snow! . -FRANCES H. Hrzvwoon, '26 Q QQ Q ll! Book hat QQQ QQ QEQ QQ MODERN FICTION Here's a list of the newest and most popular fiction and poetry. Let's read! The Keeper of the Bees Gene Stratton Porter Glorious Apollo .......... E. Barrington Soundings ........... A. Hamilton Gibbs The Red Lamp Mary Roberts Rinehart The Perennial Bachelor .... Anne Parrish Red Ashes ............ Margaret Pedlfrr Little Ships ............ Kathleen Norris One Increasing Purpose A. S. M. Hutchinson Arrowsmith .............. Sinclair Lewis The Great Pandolfo .... William I. Locke Poetry What's O'Clock ............ Amy Lowell Sonnets with Folk Songs from the Spanish ........... Havelock Ellis Ladders through the Blue Hermann I-Iagedorn Laura Lane and other Poems Nathalia Crane Priapus and the Pool .... Conrad Aiken Gay but Wistful .......... Newman Levy . . . . . . . . . Coontee Cullen Pluck in Pasture Elizabeth Mackenstry Two Lines .............. VVilliam Leonard Color .... . ..... UGLORIOUS APOLLO E. Barrington This book tells in a most interesting anil different way of the life and loves of the poet, Byron. This book changed my entire opinion of him. I had always had the illusion that Byron had been sadly used by life, but now I find that it was he, be tal who had taken life with all crudity, used the worst and thrown down the best. We have always heard that Byron's wife was a shrew who made his life miserable, but there she is pictured as a most lovable woman, with all strong and gracious char- acteristics, All of Byron's faults are here pictured as human, not as the misdemeanors of a wonderful poet. You will wonder how a man of such a nature could write the in- tense poems of the beautiful side of life, which he himself had known and flung aside, for in his every-day life every move he made was a contradiction to his ideals as expressed in his works. What is your opinion? Have you, too, clung to the traditional opinion of Byron? -KATHERINE LOCKE, '26 THE OTHER WISE MAN ' Everyone knows the story of the Three Wise Men of the East and of their journey to Bethlehem with gifts to offer at the manger-cradle of the Christ Child. But how many of us have read Henry Van Dyke's tale The Other Wise Man, the story of Artaban who also saw the star rise and set out to follow it but who, on account of delay, did not arrive in time at the Temple of the Seven Spheres to ac- company his three fellow searchers? Un- willing to give up hope of finding the King, his greatest and his one desire in life, alone, with a caravan of faithful camels, he crossed the tracklessdeserts to Judea, bearing his two gifts, a ruby and a pearl, for which he had sold his home and his possessions. It was three days after the arrival of the others that Artaban came to Bethlehem, tired and worn but ever pushed on by hope. Alas, it was only to find that Joseph, Mary and Jesus had fled to Egypt. Of Artaban's life, trials, and disappoint- ments, of his desire, denied yet accom- plished in the denial, Van Dyke gives us a wonderful and a worth-while account. This story, though short, makes one better for having read it. -M. XVELLMAN, '27 EBB-TIDE Floyd Osbourne and Robert Louis Stev- enson wrote this unusual book of the South Seas. It is a tale of three men who are on the rocks in a small settlement on an isolated island. We are told there is nothing so terrible or so conducive to sordidness as being penniless, friendless, and without prospect of future betterment in such a place. There are many men who have been and are in such a place, despairing of ever getting enough money to buy a passage out. They depend on others for hand-outs. Castoff clothing, a white man's meat, or small amounts of money from more fortunately situated fel- low-whites keep the life and hope in the body, for terrible are the disappointments some of these men receive. VVe are made to feel, through this story, some of the hopelessness, the dreariness of it all. Three such men tinally find a way out through the abilities of one of them, an ex- captain of a ship. They get the job of taking a trading schooner to another island but decide to sail on to the Argentine and there sell the boat and make tracks for civilization. The tale centralizes itself about one of the three who was once of a respectable English family and of excel- lent position. He, through misfortune and peculiarities in his character, had come to this low level, only to find himself again through this voyage. The schooner never reaches Argentina since, for some reason or other, they are forced to land on an island which is inhabited by a single white man and a number of the Polynesian race. Finally the villainous member of the trio is destroyed by his own black purposes and the other two are made to see, by the greatness of the man of their own race, that there are things for which to live honestly and they make their home with him. Vital human nature plays a powerful role in this drama of the tropics. You are advised to ,interest yourself in this remark- able book. -L. W. SEXTON, '26 Q Zllll IIIIIIIllIIIIIIIlllllllllllllllllllllll IIIIIllIIIIIIIlllllllllllllllllllllllll ILUJJIIHIIKIII llllh Em ncccuoon onmcfumuluutntcourol: ox . I 5 IE EE E5 French Department L'ESPRIT DE NOEL De quelque endroit inconnu Vient l'esprit qui est tres doux. Ce sentiment est eternel- C'est l'esprit puissant de Noel. C'est puissant parce qu'il fait le monde Plein d'une soumission profonde. On a aussi une reverence Qui ne permet pas d'insouciance. Les etrennes et les bons cadeaux Expriment l'esprit qui est si beau. Les enfants eclatent dans le cri- N'oel! C'est maintenant ici E Le monde jouit si ardemment La chaleur de ce sentiment! Il aime sentir la chaleur gaie Autour de son coeur fatigue. On sent toujours une vie nouvelle Entrer dans soi-meme quand Noel Est ici pour une autre fois, Et on en jouit comme un roi. -RUTH E. OBER, '26