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

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f 6 013132 tal PARVA SED APTA INDIAN POND It is October, the time of the hunting moon, when skies are blue and the up- lands flaming. It is now that you should go to Indian Pond. I This pond is exceedingly hard to find but if you go there, follow the old road past the mill pond and turn in at the old lumber road at the foot of the hill. After two miles of walking over hill and dale you come to an old clearing from which a trail leads to the pond. At the end of the path you come out upon a narrow mossy point covered with clusters of white birches, now stripped bare by the wind, the sign of winter's approach. From a high rock called Wasu Csentinelj by the Indians, you look out over a tiny leaf-strewn pond as blue as the autumn skies. In sharp contrast to the deep blue of the water the giant maples along the shore are flaming with red and yellow. Here and there, rising above the surroundings, stands a great pine or sharp pointed blue spruce, still clad in virgin green. Back in the denser woods a partridge whirs through the underbrush, startled, no doubt, by a dead twig crackling under your foot, while over in a tall dead chestnut a kingfisher utters his shrill challenge to the invader. Off in the hazy distance looms up the broken crag of old Toppletop, haven of the vanishing bald eagle. In the very center of the pond is a tiny island covered with rock maples, in which the crows often debate an important question. You can al- ways hear the red squirrels, those happy- go-lucky, handsome buccaneers, chattering and snickering from the crotch of the big beech tree in the center of the island. But, even as you watch, the great red sun sinks behind the purple banks of clouds and the shadows fall. It is twilight. You shiver, turn up your collar and start back through the darkening woods. -HAROLD MARCH, '26 DAWN-EN ROUTE The train was going north via Spring- field, Massachusetts, and the jaded travelers seemed, for the most part, New Yorkers. I stumbled haltingly and reluctantly through the dim corridor of the gas-lit cars, finally depositing my bag and self in the most likely seat obviously procurable. A neigh- borly human being, just ahead, snorted, peeked back over his chair at me, and then subsided into a listless attitude once more, as I thumped the bag on the fioor. Dawn was lifting the gray rain clouds away with a deft touch, when I peered from my window, and one sly finger of shell pink was poking out inquisitively from the east. Rays of grayish light filtered in through the storm-smeared windows and penetrated the murky interior, revealing, all too truthfully, the tired, train-weary faces, and the slouching attitudes of my fellow travelers. I lifted the window to feel the freshness of the rain-cooled air, and, as it rushed in, the horrid film of smoke and stale hot air seemed to lift visibly and wreathe and circle about the yellow glare of the car lamps. In the gloom, some disturbed slum- berer emitted a growl of protest, and I re- signed myself again to the somewhat freshened atmospheric conditions within, and hastily closed the window. As I turned to do this, and faced the east, an involun- tary gasp of admiration escaped me. The train, speeding along beside the Connecticut river, was revealing new beau- ties at each bend and curve. Willows along the bank were gleaming Htfully in the morning sunshine. Wisps of cloud settling about their tops and weaving among the shoots were touched faintly pink, stealing some of the more glorious color from the sky. The windows of a farmhouse in the west glowed with a fiery heat, while a wisp of blue chimney smoke assailed the on- coming rush of heavenly cerise and rose in unmorailing protest. The river, almost placid after the storm, wound into the dis- tance, pastel shades of rose, blue and gray, mingled in a subdued patchwork, veiling its deeper blue and purple depths. As I watched, the sun struggled with a lavender cloud, and suddenly emerged in golden splendor, displaying before its rays, the more delicate unfoldings of dawn. -M. KENNEDY, '27 A HILLTOP Alone on a hilltop, with the valley below, was I-alone with God. I had climbed the steep hill, scrambling over piles of brush and early fallen leaves, clutching the trunks of the scraggly trees, reaching this little haven of refuge breathless from my efforts. Below, the trees in the valley were revel- ling in the early fall colors and, winding through the chaos of their colors, was a river, reflecting silver to the rays of the sun. A vast mountainside opposite, a mas- terpiece of art in its looming grandeur, shut out a view of the rolling hills beyond. A zestful fall breeze fanned my feverish cheeks and set the leaves in the trees rust- ling. The beauty of it all set my pulse throbbing with some undefined longing. What mattered earthly cares now for sud- denly my undefined longing was met. I realized what this beauty was-it was God -and here I talked with Him. -DOROTHY PETTEE, '26 FROSTING AND INDUSTRY Maria departed from her home on her daily marketing expedition. She was cer- tain that there was going to be a famine, as good food was becoming quite scarce. Hurrying down a small side street she noticed a large white object slightly con- cealed by the trunks of the grass trees, at the other end of the nearby field. The odor that permeated the vicinity proved alluring to Maria. Running to the mysteri- ous object, Maria found, to her delight, a delicious piece of food, not at all hurt by its fall on the moss. Finding that she could not carry her treasure or even move it, she ran to her home and soon returned with thirty-two assistants. After much tugging and pulling, the procession finally reached the door of Maria's house. The treasure could not be taken through the doors, so Maria told everyone to eat as much as possible. This her assistants did. The tea party proved a success, for Maria found, that by knocking a little off each side of the door, the food could be brought into the house. After more shoving and pushing the food disap- peared in the doorway with all its assis- tants. I rose from the grass, Wondering if peo- ple would work as hard for food as those ants had worked for the frosting. -HELEN BOOTH, '27 ON TIME One of the most interesting studies of stories and slogans is a study of being On Time. When a boy or girl starts in life, his first impressions are those of hear- ing his father and mother speaking of him as being able to talk On Time , or in plainer language, at the same age the average child talks. From that time on he is drilled, by repetition, to be On Time. He must be On Time to dinner, to school, to play and to various other ap- pointments. If his thinking abilities do not develop On Time, it is, time to see a specialist. If he is kept after class, he must run home in order to be On Time to his meals. It does not matter if the run or other exercise leaves him sick, tired, or weak, since the great goal is again at- tained, he is On Time. And so it goes through life. If he is late to class, a terri- ble thing has happened. He has failed to be On Time. In his business he hur- ries to work in order to hear his boss say, There's a worker, he is 'On Time. ' He marries On Time , he supports his children and sends them to school On Time. Later in years he grows old, re- tires from business and is taken in by his children On Time. His father and family have all died at the age of eighty-nine and as that year approaches for him, he begins to look forward to death. At last he is dying and with his family and children gathered around he knows that he will soon be ninety years old. But just before the clock strikes his ninetieth birthday, he straightens up and cries, f'Thank God! On Time , and dies. -F. A. SEARs, '26

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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

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STORM The peace of the midsummer afternoon is broken for a moment by a distant rum- ble, a Warning of an approaching storm. The droning of insects seems to grow louder and the shrill barking of a dog is heard from down in the valley. A breeze rustles the leaves and murmcrs among some nearby spruces. Off in the west, huge billowy clouds pile themselves up, each seeming to strive for the uppermost posi- tion, all falling and tumbling about in their efforts. The sky grows steadily darker and the wind increases. The soft mOI1O'f0I1C grows fainter and the air feels tense and strained. Soon the sun is gone leaving the sky, -which at intervals is cracked by a Hash of lightening, dark and threatening. The Wind sweeping about the brow of the hill whistles and strikes like a wild crea- ture. In a torrent of rain, the storm breaks upon us, and the very heavens seem to be ripped asunder by a glaring light. Then the roar, crash, and heavy rumble, dies away in the distance leaving us in darkness with only a swift patter of rain on leaves. -KATHERINE Locxa, '26 AUTUMN VVho of us does not love the sweet melancholy of autumn, and with this mel- ancholy, the tang of exhilarating October air and the blue haze on the mountains? Going along the country-side the traveler notices the blatant tints of autumn, the great clusters of fire-red berries decorating the mountain-ash, the shy, heavenly blue twirls of closed gentian, and under a row of sentinel maples, one of Nature's crazy- quilts made of vari-colored leaves, spread in layers of a curious pattern. Suddenly, he sees the breezes, in a fit of playfulness, catch up a cloud of the mottled leaves and dash down the road in a whirlwind. Then passing by the farmer's orchard, our traveler sniffs to get the smell of apples and dreams of the story of olden WintC1'S when folks gathered 'round a huge Old lire-place Where the cider simmered in its jug and apples were baked on the hearth- stone. -CLARA CROSIER, '26 EXCHANGE JOKES Teacher: George, what are nitrates? George: Well er-they're cheaper than day rates. The teacher wrote 92.7 on the blackboard and to show the effect of multiplying by ten, erased the decimal point. Now, Barbara, he asked. Where is the decimal point ? On the eraser, replied Barbara. Ghz tal BOOK CHAT How many of us are merely readers of reviews or book chats? As the words reader of reviews are Written, it oc- curs to me that those words might make a fitting title for a very amusing book on the subject. One could draw a character sketch from real life quite readily! No one can expect to gain any real value from a book by reading a review on it, no matter how complete the review may be. It is not only the plot, but also the de- velopment of it and the style which make the book worthwhile and of value to us. Instead of expecting that a review has told us all we need to know about a book, let it serve merely as an incentive to read that book. Let us avoid being merely a reader of reviews. VILLIERS5 HIS FIVE DECADES OF ADVENTURE An Autobiography For a half-century or so Frederic Vil- liers, English war artist and correspon- dent, has been covering 'the wars and minor ailments of the World's nations. Of the experiences given him by this profes- sion he writes fascinatingly in his auto- biography 'tVilliersg His Five Decades of Adventure. Mr. Villiers had intimate glimpses of the Turkish Balkan warfare, the dragged-out Boer struggle, had a close view of the British Indian troubles, the Russo-Jap quarrel, and the colossal ex- plosion which shattered the world in 1914. He has been with British troops in some of the tightest and hottest scrapes of the Egyptian uprisings. He went with a gov- ernmental expedition to the King of Abys- sinia in his mountain fortress of wild Af- rica. In his more quiet moments he became acquainted with the Prince of Wales, now Edward V of England, with one of our presidents, and with some of the greatest figures of modern history and civilization. Mr. Villiers received far more than the average correspondent's share of real adventure, of the glory of dangerous places and of the living of life to its fullest scope. You will not be dis- appointed in the reading of his unusual experiences. -L. W. SEXTON, '26 SOUNDINGS A. Hamilton Gibbs It is interesting to contemplate a title, and attempt to imagine its connotation, before we read the book. The name Soundings is one of those mysterious titles which can have any amount of mean- ing as we hear it. But how much it por- trays to us after we have pondered the thoughts it contains! Those of you who have not read the book have no idea what the title holds for you. Read this delight- ful new novel, and the thoughts revealed '7 to you through it will be thoroughly charming. HALF HOURS J. M. Barrie Do you remember those childhood days of make-believe? Have you never wanted to visit again that land where everything is fanciful and you may forget the dust- heap of reality? With a book of Barrie's short plays, go to your favorite nook, and read Pantaloon. Your fancy will find wings, soar high, and, if you are one of those who have an imagination or can ap- preciate an imagination, you will experi- ence that light happiness of unreality, re- vealed in the thoughts of Harlequin and Columbine. Money! What it can bring! We have all found many occasions when we wanted at least a few bits of that elusive metal, and a few crinkling, green notes to pro- cure the latest rage in sweaters, in stock- ings. The crinkling bill can also bring about want and jealousy, and too much of it may mean the loss of love and of the beautiful things in life. Too much money and a too-ambitious desire for position meant to Sir Harry Sims in The Twelve- Pound Look both the loss of love and of true living. Do you know others like him? -DOROTHY PETTEE, '26 MISTRESS WILDING Rafael Sabatini As anyone who has read any of Rafael Sabatini's books would imagine, Mistress Wilding, by that author is a book full of romance and history blended in that charming way which is Sabatini's alone. The novel is woven around the spread- ing of the Protestant religion throughout England by the Duke of Monmouth's fol- lowers, one of the foremost of whom is Anthony Wilding. We nnd plotting against Mr. Wilding in his affairs of business as well as those of the heart, a Richard Westmacott, broth- er of our hero's fiancee. It it through this disagreeable person that the necessary fiavor is added to the story. Were it not for his plots and schemes Mr. Wilding's daring, shrewd and altogether remark- able personality would not be revealed. To be sure, there are other characters about whom the interest centers aside from Mr. Wilding and Mistress Wilding, and we find ourselves engrossed in such his- torical characters as the weak, but hand- some Duke, the shrewd and ambitious Frazier, and the cunning, scheming Grey. If you desire entertainment with a his- torical background meet Mr. Wilding, his friends and enemies. -MIRIAM Frrrs, '27 . E- to and