Bridgton High School - Corona Yearbook (Bridgton, ME)

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12 THE CORONA Literarlyf TWO TEASPOONS PLEASE Miss Fillie Adams had been a school teacher for thirty-five years. Not espe- cially because she enjoyed her profession, but because it kept her in food, clothing, and her ancient, weather-beaten house, which was seven miles from town. On this particular Friday night in Jan- uary, she had worked late at the drafty country school house. As she gathered up her things to leave, she lit a kerosene lantern to guide her home, blew out the candles which were burning on her desk, and left. It was a two-mile walk to her home. There was no one living in the houses the whole distance. Miss Fillie hated the dark. More then hated it-she feared it. Of course, it wasn't sensible, she told herself, it was just that her imagination was too active, the result of living alone for nearly forty years. As she approached her house, she no- ticed that it had assumed a ghostly aspect in the shadowy darkness. She climbed the five steps which led to the porch and went around to the kitchen door at the side of the house. She started to turn the key when suddenly she halted, rigid and unable to move or even utter a syllable. There had been a Hash of light in the attic window. She was sure she had seen it, for a mere fraction of one second had it appeared. But it had been there and now it was dark again. Her first thought was to run, anywhere and as fast as it was possible for a human to travel, but then she remembered that not one person lived within two miles of her. It was mid-January and out of the question to think of her spending the night out of doors. While these thoughts raced wildly through her head, a decision came to her abruptly. She would stay. She reached inside her handbag she carried. Maybe it was because of her fear of the dark that she had bought the gun. Well, now she needed it. She quietly let herself in and started to take off her coat in the darkness. Sud- denly she was blinded by a bright light and a rough hand snatched her gun from her right hand. So the mistress of this mansion has come home, huh ?,' he demanded. Well, it's sure nice to see you. I'm going to be staying here tonight, Sis, and maybe for some time to come. You must be lone- some here, alone like. When Miss Fillie's eyes became used to the light, she saw that the man stand- ing opposite her was a dark, Latin type and he was holding two guns, one of them her own. My dear mister burglar, or murderer, or whatever you aref' Miss Fillie said quite firmly, You have no right in my house, but, of course, you know that. VV hat do you want here ? I told you, I want to stay here. Now are you going to ask me to eat, Mam, or P? Why, yes, Mr.--F Call me Smith. Yes, Mr. Smith, as a matter of fact, I'm hungry, too. Now you sit right down in the parlor and make yourself to home and I'll fix us a quick meal. Do you like sugar in your coffee ? Yes, two spoonsful, and make it snap- py, sister.

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BOURDON PRINCE SCRIBNER Scrib Age 17 GENERAL COURSE Baseball C255 Basketball C255 Manager C455 Ath- letic Club C255 Commercial Club C3, 455 President C455 Senior Editor Of Monarch C455 Senior Play C455 CORONA Staff C455 Class History. Plans for the Future: Army. OWEN HAYWARD SMART Owen Age 18 GENERAL COURSE Commercial Club C3, 455 Student Council C455 Senior Playg Class Will. Plans for the Future: Army. GORDON VVILLIAM SMITH Smitty Age 18 COLLEGE COURSE Entered the Service in November. Junior Prize Speaking C35, Second Prize. EDNA LOUISE STEVENS Teddy Age 18 COMMERCIAL COURSE Scratches Staff C25 5 Commercial Club C3, 45 5 Sec- retary of Class C35 5 Prize Speaking C35 5 Senior Play C45 5 CO-Editor of Monarch C45 5 Honor Essay. Plans for the Future: Commercial Teacher. SHELDON TILLINGHAST PRENTICE Prentice Age 18 ' COLLEGE COURSE Plans for the Future: Marine Corps.

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THE CORONA 13 As Miss Fillie went to the kitchen, her mind was racing. She had a plan, and it must work. Two hours later she sat tensely on her horsehair sofa, awaiting the arrival of the police. Now at last she saw headlights coming around the turn. They came on steadily and halted at her front door. As she opened the door and saw the three policemen entering she felt an im- measurable relief. You all right, Miss Fillie ? asked Flynn, the oldest of the group. Yes, I'm in perfect health. The man is in the parlor. 'fNow wait a minute, Flynn exclaimed as he saw the bound man on the floor. Don't tell me you did this by physical force. Say! that face! That's the fellow they've got that reward up for. Tell me Mis' Adams, how did you do this? Well, as I said over the phone, he was here when I got home. But that is all you told us over the phone. VVhat's the rest of the story? Give the lady a chance, sir, spoke the younger man. As I was saying, Miss Fillie con- tinued, he wanted food so I told him I'd get some right off. I went to the kitchen and made coffee. I had a small bottle of laudenum in the medicine chest. I keep it for toothache. Now you know that laude- num is sweet, and Mr. Smith liked sweet coffee. So I put some in his coffee and made it strong to cover the fragrance of the drug. Mr. Smith is now sleeping it off. USO that's the story! You're sure a fast thinking one, Mis' Fillie, Flynn re- marked. Let's get this man back to prison now. Good night, ma'am. Hlust one minute. Mr. Flynn, you spoke of a reward. Miss Fillie said. Sure enough. This fellow broke jail last week. Haven't you seen the pictures in town ? No, I haven't, confessed Miss Fillie, f'You see, I rarely go to town. I have no car. Well, this will be pleasing enough to you ma'am, so listen close. That reward is fifteen hundred dollars l Land sakes, this is too much for me. VVhat will I do with it? just a minute. I know what I'll do. I'll move in town away from this ghostly neighborhood, and I'1l buy a car. No more midnight walks for me, Sir. XVINNIFRED HILTON, '47. l-.ilq SIX DEATHS AND A CHIMNEY It was a beautiful day. The birds sang gaily from their lofty perchesg the trees swayed gently in the windg the Heecy white cumulus clouds traveled peacefully across the heavens .... An old man was resting quietly in the cool, inviting shade of a gaint oak. just visible across the valley was a lone stone chinmey of great height, surrounded by weeds. That was all, just the great chim- ney and the weeds. The only moving person in sight was a young man of twenty-live or more years, the summer guest of the old man. The young man walked quietly up to the bench on which the older man was sitting. Uncle Rufe, he said. The old man looked up. Uncle Rufe, what is that chimney over there? How did it get there? The old man began his story in a voice that hardly seemed to break the peaceful quiet. As he spoke, the stillness began to become oppressive. Son, that chimbly is all the' is left to remember a turrable calamity that happened over a hundred years ago. My Dad tol' me the story, an' I'll tell it to you jes' like he tol' it to me. A long time ago, Jed Burbank built a house on that spot an' moved his fambly