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

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But if I go with him, I shall never have Pierrot to play with and my dream will no longer be a dream. Oh what has hap- pened? No dream and no Pierrot. Life would be dull without my Pierrot, even here. No dream? No Pierrot? CShe buries her head in her handsj. Stranger: You are not crying, Pierrette, are you? Surely if you are happy you are not crying. Pierrette Cweepingbz But I am not happy. Oh, Pierrot, Pierrot, why don't you come? You must come, Pierrot, I am dying. SCENE 3 At the jireside. Pierrot Ckneeling at Pierrette's sidejz Pierrette, why did you cry out in your sleep? Are you ill, my Pierrette? CTo himself, If Pierrette should die, oh God, my heart would break. Can't you save her? You must, you must .... Cfalls at her feetD. , Pierrette Cdazedly lifts her headb: Have you come, Pierrot, have you come? I thought you had gone forever, I thought .... . Pierrot Ctaking her in his armslz I love you, Pierrette, I love you. Pierrette: Oh, if what I dreamed had been true-I am so happy that it was only a dream, for I thought you had gone out of my life. Piewfot: Ah, Pierrette, dream away, but let it always be but a dream! - -MARION R1cE, '26. A NIGHT WITH NATURE One night my friend Bill and I attended a meeting of outdoor enthusiasts. There we heard of the wonders of nature and the joys of spending a night in the woods. Full directions were given for spending said night. We copied down parts of the recipe and decided to try it. We took all the necessary equipment and some that wasn't necessary. We had vast quantities of matches, a small tent, some cold food, blankets for making the bed and several axes and knives. Now when I can think with a clear and unprejudiced mind of that night it seems as if we must have looked like a small hardware store as we started away. We were given a hearty sendolf by all the small children of the neighborhood. As I am very modest, I felt like MacMillan starting for the North Pole and Bill looked like Columbus after he had discovered America. After we had shaken off the multitude we started to look for a suitable place to make camp. Our directions called for a centrally located place protected on all four sides from the wind. We found many cen- trally located spots but none that met all the requirements. Some were not pro- tected from the wind and others had no good place to pitch the tent. However, our . f ' be ual greatest difficulty was in finding water. VVithout water a man cannot live. CThis from our directionsj Consequently we must have it. After much weary tramping we found a place where a thin, worn-out stream of the precious liquid dribbled wearily over the rocks and came straggling by a centrally located spot protected on four sides from the wind. An ideal camp- ing spot at last! The next thing to do was to put up the tent. According to the recipe there should have been two trees in the middle of the clearing from which to sling the tent. We found a couple of trees and although the tent hung a little crookedly and was hung over many stones we didn't think we would mind that very much. Vile didn't. Not very much!! As we were Ugreenhornsn we made the usual mess of our beds. There were three beautifully sharp roots under my blanket and I think Bill was blessed with several immovable stones. After we had made our snug habitation We supped frugally on cold food. Then we lit the proverbial campfire. This was sup- posed to give out a comforting warmth and to rest the weary traveller. Unfortunately our fire failed to do this. It smouldered litfully and went out whenever we turned our backs. However, we ignored this diffi- culty as all men of the great outdoors should do and sat around the ash heap waiting patiently for bedtime. I didn't want to be the lirst to propose going to bed and neither did Bill. I was very tired and was fitfully dozing but from fear of being called a coward I didn't say a word about going to bed. I think Bill was al- most asleep also. We sat like this for al- most two hours and then Bill rubbed his eyes, mumbled something about being tired and getting up early tomorrow morning and went off to bed. I rose also, doused the fire and said in the most cheerful voice I could summon at this occasion, Well, Bill, I guess I'll keep you company. We can't sit here all night. Then we lay down and entrusted ourselves to the gentle wiles of Mother Nature. The three sharp roots all took their toll in my ribs and back. Bill was saying some very harsh words against Nature in general and against sleeping on the ground in particular. Neither of us slept that night. Added to our already numerous gentle rain from the morning, As discomforts we had a heaven about three in the tent was located on the side of a small the brook passed bank the drainage to through our blankets and added greatly to our appreciation of the wilderness. After having been soaked for half an hour we gave up the struggle and sat around in our pajamas until daylight. I have often wondered what would have happened if anyone had seen us at that early hour. However no one did, and at five we departed for civilization. -JAMES FERRITER, '27 3 THE CALL OF THE WANDERER The instinct of the Vagabond is found in nearly every man. The passion to see strange places, to make new and wonderful discoveries of beauty in foreign lands and faraway places has a place in the soul of every man. Men seek an Eden wherein all is beauty and matchless perfection and all the earth is their stamping-ground. They who must remain at home and curb this urge of the vagrant spirit, listen, fascinated to the tales of the fortunate who wander. Or, if he may not hear these personal nar- ratives he may read of the gypsy life of many famous vagabonds in their works. Among these authors loom Robert Louis Stevenson, George Borrow, Harry Franck, Herman Melville, jack London, and many others. Among the most famous of the living is Frederick O'Brien. It has been that same fever of travel and lust of learning of strange places that drew the great discoverers of history out upon the seas, and across plains and moun- tain ranges. It was the ever-present-knowl- edge that there was an unknown beyond the horizon-a land to be explored and shown to the world. This was the power- ful magnet that drew Marco Polo out upon his famous wanderingsg it was this that set the Vikings out on the seas to Vine- land , and it was the same irrestible pull that tugged at the spirits of Columbus, Drake, Magellan and a thousand other leaders. They were not satisfied with that of which they knew-they must needs Search out new fields, new and hitherto unknown lands. And it is thus with every man. If he be red-blooded and of keen spirit the call for enlistments to the army of vagabonds will come and he may respond. Bliss Carmen and Richard Hovey have heard it, for they wrote: A VAGABOND SONG.u There is something in the autumn that is native to my blood- Touch of manner, hint of moodg And heart is like a rhyme, VVith the yellow and the purple and the crimson keeping time. The scarlet ol the maples can shake me like a cry Of bugles going by, And my lonely spirit thrills To see the frosty asters like a smoke upon the hills. There is something in October sets the gypsy blood astirg We must rise and follow her, When from every hill of flame She calls and calls each Vagabond by name. -L. W. SEXTON, '26 , firm, Yfrr V iw, -A

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2 The Rial THE BREAKER OF DREAMS SCENE l. A jireside-with a jire just for cosi- ne.r.v, -as Pierette would say. Pieretier Oh, Pierrot, to climb into that cloud beyond the mountain, to take its downy softness in my hands, to be wrapped in its lightness, and to drift through its white purity! Pierrot Ccynicallyjz Its downy softness is but damp, cold air, and its pure white- ness is only a cold gray. Why, it is only fog, just fog. Ah Pierette, dream away, but let it always be but a dream. Pierctte: You advise me to dream after you have all but broken it? CHope- fullyj I shall dance in it, skip in it .... Pierrot: You will fall through. Pierrette: And it will be your fault. I could have done it, but now you have broken it Pierrot Cdistantlyj : A cloud is ...... Pierrette Cstill hopefullyj: I could skip in it, dance in it ..... Oh, but I couldn't now. CSingingj Keep the dream you've made today Store it in your heart, And when you're tired of Pierrot's play Take your heart apart. Pierrot: I have it. A cloud is a collection of visible vapor, suspended in the up- per atmosphere. Pierrette: Not being satisfied with breaking my dream, he attempts to break my heart. Pierrot: I shall send that definition to the new definitions department tomorrow. Pierette: Yes, I will keep my dream if I can gather the pieces together. Oh, Pierrot, don't you see what you have done? I was dreaming away and you broke my dream into a thousand piices. Don't you care? Pierrot Cindifferentlyj: I'm sorry if your dream amused you. I was trying to give you some advice. I must go now. fExitj Pierrette: He has seen someone he likes better than he likes me. Oh why can't he love me, when I love him so much? CSingingj Go, Pierrot, you fickle man. Go and seek your lover VVhere the flowers all bloom at night And butterfiies still hover. Go and take her in your arms, Kiss her golden hair. May she break your dream in two, Escape, and then you'd care. Then you'd come to Pierrette You'd love to see her smile But she would gaze far o'er the hills And sing this all the while: Go, Pierrot, you fickle man, Go and seek your lover A Where the flowers bloom at night And butterflies still hover. Yes, I shall make a dream that he can't break. I shall fall in love with a man who is cheerful all the time and nice to me. Vllhen I meet him he shall fall in love with me. Then would Pierrot be sorry? He shall be quite tall and straight And he shall be quite slender. I-Ie shall gaze into my eyes With loving glance and tender. I wonder if he is far away. CGazes wist- fully up at the cloudsj. SCENE 2 The cloud beyond the 1n0untai11. Enter Pierrette: And Pierrot said it was fog! Cln ecstacyj Every downy particle of it is mine to sing in, to dance in, to skip in! When I am tired I shall lie on the edge, and look aboveme and wonder who is in that cloud away up there. I wonder if my cloud will be gold or pink at sunset. When I am tired of gazing into heaven I shall look below me, and watch the people coming home from the market- place. Perhaps I shall catch a glimpse of Pierrot! I wonder what he will think when he finds I am not at home. CRuns and looks over the cloud's edgej. I don't think I would even hurt myself if I jumped from here. I would land right in that field of heather. Pierrot said I would fall through, but when I walk in it, it is so light and fluffy .... CSingsD This blue sky is filled with clouds, Snowy, soft, and white. Take your choice of all but this, In your skyward flight. There's a cloud beside the lake, And one above the pine, But the one beyond the mountain Is not yours, but mine, just mine. CEnter Strangerj Oh, but who are you? Didn't you just hear me say that this cloud belonged to me? Stranger: Pierrette, look at me. Pierrette: I don't know how you should know my name, and I have been look- ing at you. , ' Stranger: Do look at me again. Pierrette: You are tall and dark and slen- der. VVhy you can't be .... . Strangelz' Perhaps I can. Pierrette Cto herselfj: , He shall be quite tall and straight And he shall be quite slender. He shall gaze into my eyes XNith loving glance and tender. St1'a11ge1': Come let us sit on the edge of the cloud. It is beginning to become golden now. I have a great deal to tell you. Pierrette Cpuzzledj 1 But how did you find me, and how did you know whom you were looking for? Stranger: For a long time I have been searching over the earth for someone to love and laugh with. Many loved me but I loved none of them. Pierrette Qoverlooking his egotismj : When did you give up looking for someone to love and laugh with? When I happened upon a little Stffanger: fleecy cloud and found that someone. Pie1'ret1'e: And so your little friend of the cloud Stranger: returned your love? Didn't she? Pierrette: fto herselfj Pierrot once said that a woman must keep her lover guessing, always guessing. QTO himj She wouldn't love you until she knew you were worthy of her love. Stranger: So I must prove to her that I am worthy of her love? Pierrette: She cannot love you until then, I'm sure. Stranger Qreflectingb : How does one prove his worthiness? Pierrette Cto herselfj : I am soihappy. Oh, I knew I would find him, but I did not think it could be here. Do I love him? Do I love him? If I don't then I can- not know love. How handsome he is! His gaze is even tenderer than I had hoped, and he is much taller than I had dreamed. Stranger Ctaking her handj: Pierrette, dear Pierrette, are you thinking of the beauty of our golden cloud? Perhaps you are wishing that you were down on those green fields or over on that tall mountain. Pierrette: I feel as though We were Hying through heaven, high above every other cloud, and if we jumped from the edge we could 'drift away beyond the mountain and never come back to earth. I feel as though we might sing a song a thousand times sweeter than the lark's I hear. It's like a dream. Stranger: Do you know what that is called, when one feels like that? Pierrette: Pierrot says it is love. Stranger: So you are sure you are happy? Pierrette Csuddenly rememberingli Keep the dream you've made today Store it in your heart And when you're tired of Pierrot's play Take your heart apart. T ' E , I

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6 P . 4 THE LURE OF AUTUMN I must heed the call of Autumn, I must yield unto the spell That is cast upon the Northland At the sounding, clear-toned knell. I must breathe the air of Autumn, I must feel the thrill of frost Upon my throbbing senses, By the tang of Autumn tossed. I must listen to the north wind As it sends its lonely cry Through the wildness of the forest From the mountain top on high. And to see the flame of .branches Where the rainbow banners fly- Tinted scarlet, golden, russet, 'Gainst the azure of the sky! I must look upon the fir-trees- When chilling frosts take birth, At the advent of the north wind- Close they nestle to the earth. I must follow, I must follow- For the luring cry is clear, And my heart is heeding answers, Half in love and half in fear. Let me live the life of Autumn, Let my heart beat with it all- For celestial is its beauty And God is Autumn's call. ' -ONNIE BILLS, T.T. NOTHING VENTURE, NOTHING HAVE How often do we sit and day-dream, build castles in the air, and paint brilliant futures, and with what success do we dream, and build and paint? More often we rise from our dreams, shake off the all-pleasant reverie and as- sume our daily routine tasks. Sometimes the dream lingers in the mind, but more often we quickly dispel it, or lose it among the countless trends and turns in our whirl- ing brain. Not always is the venturer,'the gainer, but it is seldom that he does not learn from his venture. Let us take, a concrete example. A schoolboy hears the call for football men. He goes to the field to see the candi- dates practice. His ambition aroused, he goes home and pictures himself on the team, scoring touchdowns for his team, and the hero of the school. But the one essential is lacking, the follow through, or the spirit to venture. And so he dreams, and paints, and pictures, and plans, but the first game, and consequently every game, finds our dreamer absent from the lineup. And what of other walks in life? The A The . tal artist eonceives in his mind a beautiful picture. The outline is clear. He vividly fancies his model or landscape, and ad- mires the glorious creation of the brain. And so he too dreams until his fancy loses the vivid outline, and the great thing passes into the endless corridor of might-have- beens. The scholar, the business man, the sol- dier, all have their dreams, but seldom do they try to make these dreams materialize. And what of the man who does venture? When his efforts are fruitful, his praises are sung, and he is acclaimed by his fellow men. But when he fails, he is shut out by the thoughtless mob. This trait of the world, to scorn a loser, makes many hesitate to venture forth, but the man who can take unbending the scorn of the mob, is most often the man who is not ashamed of failure, and tries until his efforts are crowned with success. And if he labors and does not achieve his desire, does he have anything for his venture? He has the most precious thing in the world, for his venture has given him experience. -MAX GISSIN, '26 A TRAIL OF REMINISCENCES Lately I have become very much inter- ested in antiques and old records. It seems to have become quite the fashion to collect antiques and there is a certain fascination in exploring the attic and reading old musty papers telling, about family history. I have found some most interesting facts about my English ancestors. It seems that there was one English lady, a great-grand- mother, fondly called down through all the generations the Lady. In all proba- bility, the fine English cups and saucers which are still in the family were brought over here from England one hundred and thirty years ago when she and her family immigrated to Boston. I have also found out the history of an old round, and rather flat China sugar bowl, painted in the old blue, a shade which is very different from any color we have today. This, I found belonged to my great, great, aunt Lavucia, a school teacher, famous in my family history for having taught one hundred terms. Just how many years that was I do not know, but it was between thirty and fifty years. She was engaged to be married and had bought her first set of dishes, of which this bowl was a part, but at the last minute her lover deserted her. There was also in her setting out a certain very long and slender kind of silver spoon, hand-made, called the rat-tail spoon, which, instead of having only the family initial on, had that initial at the top and a little below on one side the woman's given initial and on the other side her husband's given initial. Imagine going to an afternoon tea in a large hoop skirt gown and a tiny bonnet! Tea would be served' out in an old-fash- ioned garden around a tip-table. Even the table manners were different from those of today. First the hostess would pour tea into the cup. Then one would pour what she wanted into a very deep saucer and drink from that rather than from the cup. The cup was then placed on a tiny saucer called the cup-plate to prevent soiling the table cloth. Another interesting discovery was an old black fan. It is sometimes remarked that the girls of to-day are more vain than the girls of yesterday but the fact that there was a fancy mirror on this fan which is probably one hundred years old seems to dispute this statement. Some of the most unique things I found were in a box of trinkets. There was a little glass case with twin dolls in it about two inches in length and carved of wood with painted faces. They were dressed in fancy dresses of a rather stiff, lacy ma- terial, plaited at the waist. I have yet to find out who carved them, but by the looks of dresses they must be at least one hun- dred years old. There were also several tables and stands, the most interesting one being the old fashioned tip-table. This type of table was on a pedestal with the table part made so it could be tipped up against the wall to make more room. This particular one someone tried to decorate by putting on several coats of dark paint over the first stain, but I think it can be restored to its natural beauty. Of course I found old brass candle- sticks too and foot-stoves which were car- ried to church for warmth in winter time but more interesting was the little candle lamp of glass, shaped like an oil lamp, in which a small Wick burned. You haven't any idea how fascinating ex- ploring attics is until you've tried it, so, rather than Wish you could go to a real colonial house to see antiques, first look around your own attic, for no one knows what treasures you may find there hidden away in the dust and cobwebs. -EVELYN THURBER, '27, CAMEL'S HUMP ' One line morning fifteen Hochelaga girls set out in the big camp truck for Camel's Hump. How crowded we were with knap- sacks, slickers, and food packed all over our feet and in our laps! Happy? I should say so! With lusty songs and cheers we left camp and started on our forty-mile ride to the foot of the mountain. A short stop in Essex, our songs, and the numerous bridges and loads of hay to be wished on, kept the trip from being boresome. At last, much shaken by the bumps, we ar- rived at the end of our ride, and, needless to say, the food quickly disappeared. By