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

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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

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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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8 The ial FRENCH DEPARTMENT FRENCH IN B. H. S. French has long been taught in High School. It is only recently, however, that it has played such an important part in outside activities. There is a splendidly organized club, known as the Cercle Fran- cais. The members have very good times at the seiances and incidentally learn to speak French more fluently by using it al- together at their meetings. Two columns of the DIAL are devoted to French, either composition or translation. This inspires the students to work harder in their free prose composition and translations. To be able to converse freely in French takes a great deal of practice, so in the advanced classes the recitations are being carried on entirely in French. And the students in French 3 and 5 are taking the Petit jour- nal , a French paper published twice a monthg so, besides learning the French language, the students are becoming ac- quainted with French ways and customs. -ALICE DARLING, '26 AU BORD DE LA MER Cet ete je suis allee au bord de la mer. ,Vai fait beaucoup de choses. Mais je vais vous dire du premier jour que je suis allee me baigner. Vers midi le soleil etait si ardent que le sable nous brulait les pieds, mais l'eau etait si froide qu'il fallait sauter et danser pour nour rechauffer les jambes. Nous etions dans l'eau jusqu'a la ceinture quand une vague nous enveloppa et nous repoussa vers le rivage. Mais mon ami et moi, nous nageames a travers. C'etait la premi- ere fois que je me baignais at la mer et j'ai trouve cela bien amusant. -GABRIELLE TURGEON, '27 THE DIAL Pour le bien de tous les lecteurs nou- veaux du DIAL je desire le leur expliquer. Le DIAL est le meilleur journal ecolier de l'etat. Il se publie par les eleves de l'ecole de Brattleboro chaque mois. Le journal se divise aux departements de litterature, de francais, d'histoire, d'echanges, de sports, de plaisanterie et ainsi de suite. On obtient les histoires pour le DIAL des classes en Anglais. Les plaisanteries sont prises de la salle de classe. Cett annee le DIAL sera mieux que ja- mais mais il ne le sera pas sans votre aide. -DORIS WOOD, '27 TRANSLATION FROM LE BON- HEUR I-Iuit Contes Choisis, de Maupassant Five years ago I traveled in Corsica. This wild island is less known and farther from us than America, although sometimes, as today, they see it from the coasts of France. Imagine a world still in-tumult, a whirl- wind of mountains which separate narrow ravines where great rivers roll, not a plain but only huge billows of granite, and great undulations of land, covered with a thicket or with lofty forests of chestnut trees and pines. It is a virgin soil, uncultivated and deserted, although occasionally one sees a village similar to a pile of rocks, on a mountain top. No culture at all, no indus- try, no art. One never comes across a carved piece of wood, a bit of sculptured stone, never the reminder of ancestors' taste, childish or refined, for graceful and beautiful objects. That is the very thing which is most impressive in this noble and hardy country: hereditary, indifference to- ward that pursuit of attractive objects which is called Art. -CLARA CROSIER, '26 LA PARURE La Parure est une histoire d'une jeune fille, Mathilde, qui etait tres jolie et charm- ante, mais elle n'avait pas de dot, et elle ne pouvait pas esperer at epouser une homme riche. Par consequent elle s'est mariee avec un homme pauvre, Monsieur Loisel. Elle desirait demeurer dans une grande maison et elle desirait de belles robes et des bijoux. Elle desirait etre seduisante, enviee et recherchee. Une fois, on l'a invitee, elle et son mari, at assister a une soiree at l'h6tel du ministre de l'instruction publique. C'etait une belle occasion! Mathilde n'avait pas une belle robe 21 porter mais elle travailla fort et elle fit une tres, tres belle robe. Mais elle n'etait pas con- tente parce qu'elle n'avait pas de bijoux. Tout it coup son mari avait une idee. Il dit, UVa a ton amie, Madame Forestier Celle etait richej et lui prie de te preter des bijouxf' Elle alla a son amie et lui dit sa distresse. Son ami lui dit qu'elle pourrait choisir le bijoux qu'elle voudra et elle a choisi une riviere de diaments. A la fete Madame Loisel eut une enorme succes. Elle etait tres jolie, elegante et gracieuse. Tous les hommes la regardaient et voulaient valser avec elle. Apres la fete Monsieur et Madame Loi- sel sont retournes chez eux dans un vieux coupe noctambule. Quand Madame Loisel ota ses vetements elle decouvrit que la riviere n'etait pas autour du cou. Ils la chercherent mais ils ne la trouverent point. Ils acheterent une autre riviere et la ren- derent a Madame Forestier. ' , Monsieur et Madame Loisel devenaient tres pauvres, par consequent, et ils travail- laient dur il y a dix ans a payer la riviere. Au bout de dix ans ils avaient tout restitue. Madame Loisel etait vieille et sa jupe etait fi travers et elle avait des mains rouges. Un jour quand elle vit son amie, elle decida, maintenant qu'elle avait paya la dette, qu'elle lui dirait tout. Elle lui dit toute son histoire- et Madame Forestier lui dit que la premiere riviere etait fausse! Monsieur et Madame Loisel ont passe toute leur vie en travaillant pour payer la riviere et maintenant quand il etait trop tard, ils decouvrirent leur erreur. Ne sacrifier pas toute votre vie pour un seul instant de plaisir. . -DORIS ROBBINS, '26 TRANSLATION FROM UPECHEUR D'ISLANDE A great racket in Paimpolg ringing of bells and chants of priests. Rough and monotonous songs in the tavernsg old mel- odies to lull the sailors to sleep, old ballads collected from the sea, of unknown origin, from the dark night of that period.-Groups of sailors shaking handsg groups of girls in the white headdress of the nun, the old houses of granite enclosing that swarm of peopleg old roofs telling of their struggles for many centuries against the winds of the west, against the sprays, the rains, against everything impelled by the sea. -ALICE DARLING, '26 L'ORCHESTRE DE L'ECOLE SU- PERIEURE A BRATTLEBORO L'orchestre de l'ecole superieure at Brat- tleboro promet beaucoup cette annee. Il y a vingt membres et de cette nombre, huit en sont violinistes. L'orchestre est sous la direction de Madame MacArthur, le chef est Walter White. Il y a, au moins, un recit par semaine qui dure une heure et demie. Bientot, des nouvelles pieces de musique seraient employees. Cet Orchestre sera organise comme l'annee derniere. -CLARA CROSIER, '26 HISTORY DEPARTMENT PIONEERS The obsolete meaning of the word pioneers is somewhat different from the association that we now have with it. Originally, a pioneer was a soldier who repaired roads and paved the way for civilization. The modern association with the word is a man who is the first to go into a new locality. Perhaps many of us when we hear the Word' pioneers say 'AOII yes, the forty-niners who went west for gold. But the word pioneers has a broad- er meaning than the modern interpretation. A few of the pioneers are, the explorers who by exploring often pave the way for civilization. There are the pioneers of re- form in society, religion, government and the pioneers of industry, woman suffrage, and science. One of the greatest pioneers, in whom we are all vastly interested, is Christopher Columbus. Many, many years ago it was a common belief among the people of Europe that the world was flat. However,