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

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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

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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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the time we were ready to start the climb our packs were only about half as heavy as when we left camp. After having rested from our ride, we began our five-mile climb to the summit. Four o'clock found us about half way up, still cheerful and lively, but resting more often. As we were once more taking up the trail someone suddenly cried, Look! Between us and another mountain two miles away a dense cloud of fog was stealing, hiding the valleys below, and cutting off our view. Even as we watched, a fierce wind began to blow and the rain poured down. Slickers and ponchos were hastily donned.-We snatched up our packs and started along the trail once more. At first we all struggled in the mist which threatened to hide us from one an- other. Then, as we hiked on, one by one, we passed above the line of mist and by turning we could look down and see the others still struggling. Our own trials were not over, however, for the trail grew steeper and steeper every minute until we seemed to be climbing a perpendicular wall. The summit, at last! The rain was still falling, though not quite as hard, and the wind was blowing a gale. Drenched and al- most exhausted we stood looking down in- to a sea of fog which hid our world from us. Then for just a second the fog was mysteriously drawn aside and we caught a glimpse of Champlain, blood red with the glow of the setting sun. Once again the fog closed down, the rain began to fall harder, and we started down the path lead- ing to the shack where we were to spend the night. Fifteen minutes later we stood in a little tin cabin with a dirt Hoor, one window, a small stove and four huge bunks. Speedily we exchanged our wet paraphernalia for the dry clothing in our packs. The care- taker came over then, built our fire, and brought us blankets. It was now pitch dark, and raining hard. Supper! We never knew before just how much that one word can mean to a hungry human being. Our meal surely was most unusual and original: crackers and jelly for the first course, then bacon, rolls, coffee, bread and lastly tomato soup. How good everything tasted and how everyone did eat, blissfully ignorant of how soon we were to regret our large appetites! With supper over there was nothing in store for us except bed and with five in each bunk we tried to compose ourselves for sleep. First someone would shout, 'Tm c-c-c-cold! Then from another bunk would come a loud snore followed by a giggle and a sleepy, Keep still! From another source, Oh, why did I eat that soup! A few moments of silence, then again, That soup! It will be the death of me! Once more everyone would doze un- Utije tal til with a shriek someone would awaken only to find her blankets had been borrowed while she napped. By three a.m. everyone was awake and up. As soon as the fire was built someone suggested breakfast but strange to say no one seemed very enthusiastic. Of course, we had it, even though no one ate much. Counsellors can't be expected to make as good pancakes as regular cooks! Ten o'clock found the cabin swept, blankets returned, and everything packed for the descent. Never before did I realize that it is just as far down a mountain as up. Early in the afternoon fifteen tired camp girls climbed once more into the truck and started home. Silence, gloomy silence, all the first part of the ride and then gradually every one seem-ed to ,recover the tempora-, rily lost spirits. Songs and jokes began, in fact, we even composed a new song about the Camel's Hump trip. When at last we almost fell out of the truck into the waiting arms of our friends someone shouted Three cheers for Camel's Hump! and everyone joined in Rah! Rah! Rah! -MARGUERITE WELLMAN, '27 THE MODERN CRYSTAL BALL A Scientific Article. Gazing into the crystal ball, the three travelers in the Arabian Nights saw the answers to their queries. Today, the wise men have again turned to crystal for an- swers to their riddles, but this time the crystal is in the form of clear fused quartz. The best quartz obtainable is placed in an electric furnace, under intense heat and careful chemical control, it is fused clearer than glass-so clear that this page could easily be read through a block ten inches modern crystal. thick. The result is this Now, in a rainbow, light is broken up in- to the primary colors. The violet rays have length, beyond the shortest visible wave these, lie the ultra-violet rays with so short a wave length that the eye cannot detect their light. The most powerful microscopes with glass lenses can show objects no smaller than one-half the wave length of violet light. Yet, as has been said, the wave length of ultra-violet rays is shorter than that of violet rays. Glass will not transmit ultra-violet light, but quartz will, consequently, microscopes with quartz lenses will show objects of smaller size than those shown by ordinary microscopes. Since the human eye cannot detect this ultra-violet light, a camera must be used. Two Englishmen, Dr. Gye and Mr. Bar- nard, have isolated the cancer germ. Be- cause of the minute dimensions of the ob- ject of their search, these two men used the best of microscopes with quartz lenses. Through the eye of the camera they saw a tiny object which man had never seen 5 before-the cancer germ. This experiment does not assure a cure for the dreaded disease, but it furnishes a foundation on which science may build a cure. Such a discovery may come in the near future, or it may be long delayed, malaria was con- quered soon after the discovery of its germ, again, the tuberculosis germ was dis- covered forty years ago and scientists are still experimenting with it. At any rate, this experiment of Gye and Barnard may well be considered the greatest scientitic achievement of recent times. A hospital, high in the Swiss Alps, has cured many cases of lung trouble and tuberculosis. The principle of these cures is the direct exposure of the body to sun- light. At this high altitude there is less atmospheric interference with the passage of light. The ultra-violet rays cure the patients and give them a healthy tan. Some hospitals,in our own country accomplish this same end by treating their patients with artificial light. The ultra-violet rays are obtained by using quartz for the elec- tric light bulbs. During these treatments, protective goggles must be worn because the glare of this light is equal to that of the sun. In a similar way, these health- giving rays are used to cure rickets, a disease of deformed or undeveloped bones. The properties of this crystal-clear mineral seem to be designed for curative work. All kinds of light not only go through the mineral, but they seem to fol- low its bends and curves, this permits phy- sicians to project the health-giving rays just where they are needed. For instance, in the curing of hay fever, a slender rod of quartz is inserted in the noseg the rays follow the rod and thus go where they do the most good.' The main objection to the use of fused quartz is the expense. Because of the in- tense heat and the chemical control neces- sary to produce it, its cost is great. The Englishman, Lamplough, is working on a glass which may take the place of quartz, and which will be much cheaper. If he is successful, these new and powerful meth- ods of curing disease will be placed in the hands of almost every hospital. Still, if a cheap substitute is found or if it is not, crystal-clear quartz has played an enor- mous part in modern science. The benefit to mankind, through its bodily cures alone, is immense. Is not the intriguing romance of this modern crystal greater than that of the crystal ball of old? -JOHN C. GALE, P.G. There is a bold class of young freshmen, A Senior girl tried to enmesh one, But the sneering youth said As he struck off her head- Get fresh with all men but a freshman. U