Bristol High School - Green and White Yearbook (Bristol, RI)

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14 THE GREEN AND WHITE A STRANGE EXPERIENCE IN STRANGE YEARS Headlines in papers all over the world were screaming forth their message of another disaster. Porter’s Plane Not Heard from for 48 Hours. No Hope Held for Survivors, If Plane Crashed Terrific Storms Are Reported Over the Vicinity of the Pole by Weather Bureau. At Washington. Commander Porter and his small band of courageous men set out to fly across the North Pole today at 7:15 p. m., Eastern Standard Time. Radio communication was continuous, although heavy storms made clearness impossible, until 10:43 p. m., when a report was suddenly cut short. The year 2453 A. D. a city of approximately 3000 was situated on a small island in the Hudson Bay, where once man couldn't live because of the intense cold. The city of Burton was proud to have the great honor of being chosen by the American, Admiral Wells, a descendant of the first man to fly across both poles, to be his base in a search for the last ice that might have been left by the heat plants. A deep valley had been reported still filled with the heavy and massive cakes of ice. which at one time completely covered the now most prosperous and fertile country belonging to his Majesty King George XVI., the emperor of the United Kingdoms of Great Britain. These ice beds were to be found on this exploration trip, and their exact location found on maps so the rays of heat, from the gigantic heat plants, could melt them and form another healthy and fertile territory to be added to His Majesty’s Empire. The beautiful new aluminum space conquerors, as they were called, were all ready to start. The day had arrived and the Americans quickly left their base and disappeared far to the north in the machines. After several days of vain search the great discovery is made, the last valley of ice is found! The men from the “conquerors” explore the ice fields before they disappear forever. A shout! The men hury to their commander's side, he points to a tremendous cake of ice directly before them. There, standing straight before him and frozen in the center of the huge cake, is— A man! He is dressed in a peculiar costume of now rare furs. The Admiral directs the piercing ray of one of the many chemical torches upon the ice, which immediately begins to melt. As soon as the figure is totally clear of the ice, the sailors rush him to the Admiral’s “conqueror. There it is discovered that he isn’t dead! Gradually, the doctor brings him back to life. The first word that was said was spoken by the Unknown, who looking slowly around in a dazed manner, suddenly asked: Where am I? Where are my men?” The officer answered, “I am Admiral Wells, United States Navy, who are you?” The Unknown snapped to attention and saluting replied: “Commander Ralph M. Porter, U.S.N., sir; commander of the ill-fated Arctic Exploration Plane “Aztec.” Left New York, December 30, 1955, and wrecked five days later by terrific headwinds. What date is this? A startled expression overspread Wells’s face, “What?, he cried, “Left New York in 1955?” “Yes, sir. Why, are you ill?” No, only a shock! Do you realize that this is the year 2453? That your party left the city of New York, four hundred and ninety-eight years ago? You have been frozen almost five centuries!” As the truth suddenly dawned upon him, Porter’s face turned ashen white and he would have fallen if a Marine orderly had not been near and caught him. As he lay on the couch in a dead faint, his hair turned slowly gray and his face became wrinkled. When he was at last brought back to consciousness, he could scarcely speak and realizing that he was dy ing he asked - Will you tell me what has happened to the United States since 1 left?” “The United States.” said Wells, with Great Britain are the only, two countries left. Britain holds Europe, Canada most of Africa, part of Asia, and Australia. The United States holds the rest. The Red and Yellow races attacked the White and Black and were finally defeated by the combined forces of Great Britain and America. All other countries having fallen at the beginning of the war. Finally, at the surrender of the enemy, we divided with Great Britain. That was three hundred years ago.” As he finished speaking, the now very old man gasped and cried out for water. It was brought him with a stimulant, but he had died before the glass was placed to his lips. The “conquerors” with colors at half-mast sailed into Burton one day with a marvelous story to tell. Later Porter was given a naval funeral at Arlington Cemetery in Washington, D. C„ which was still the capital of the mighty nation and----- Hayes!” You hear this, through a fog of returning memory and as you gaze blankly at the firce countenance of Latin Prof. Charles E. Dowd, you realize that your marvelous experience must be chilled by a very dry account of one of Caesar’s everlasting victories. —FRANCIS W. HAYES, ’32. THE CONQUEROR • From afar o’er the hill tops, every day Rumbling and thugging from far away The Limited speeds at its steady pace, A symbol of might of the human race. Defiant whistles and startling cries Resound as the smoke spirals into the skies; Then its echo is heard as it mounts distant hills Rushing from cities through valleys and rills: Day after day its shrill proud cry Returns as we stand to watch it go by 1 MARY R. SULLIVAN, ’31.

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THE GREEN AND WHITE 13 dressing room. Her nurse, who called her “my darling,” instead of “your highness,” said • “The pleasantness of the day has done you good; you look quite bright, my darling.” “Ah nurse,” she answered, all thanks to little Gerda Hansler. She did not think I must be happy because of my station and castle, but she reminded me that they were the will of God as much as her own suffering. If she, a little criple, can smile, should I not smile though a thorn lurk among the roses of my crown?” Gerda told me: “God’s will is good for both. That is my best birthday gift.” MARJORIE L. MANLEY, Class of 1932. “AN ENDLESS DAY” The eight fifteen bell has rung; Everyone is on the run. We all rush to our seats, Now and then shifting of feet. A book drops to the floor. Miss Sisson says, “Close the door.” Then we pass from class to class, But the time just won’t pass. There comes a soft patter of feet. It’s Mr. Brightman to test the heat. A sweet voice in English struggles in vain, Motta starts “Singing in the Rain.” We pass back to home rooms, Lunch hour is very soon, Down the stairs we dance with glee, There’s ice cream, sandwiches, but no samples free. Few minutes later each face falls, For now the bell is calling all, Up the stairs we march in dread. Some are wishing they were dead. The time is now drawing near, But it seems just like a year, Till the last bell has rung for the day, Now every face is bright and gay. It’s all over for one day, Even the teachers seem gay, In our hearts there will be sorrow, For there’s another day—tomorrow. ELLA MAE LeMAIRE. “PATTY” Patty is a pretty maid. But to me, no reverence has she paid, My poem which I tried so hard to make, She did scorn and all its glory take. I do not question her, In fact I pity her, To think she has not heard in her day A verse to equal the one I read to her along the way. MARY CELONE, 32. SEA SHORE IN WINTER The sea shore in Winter is a strange plaything of nature. She makes the waters cold and gloomy : the shore a cold and bleak spot. The waters lash the protruding rocks. The gulls swoop low over the sands in a vain search of a stray fish that might casually swim to the surface. These birds of prey hover for a second, then suddenly dive with a headlong rush. Soon they emerge from the cold water—sometimes with a fish and sometimes—nothing. Soon snow begins to fall. The water rats those little gray thieves of the beach, scurry to their shelter or under some low lying rock or pier. The snow falls silently on the waves that roll continuously up the sand and back down again. Sometimes a heron is seen standing shivering in the cold. So falls the wintry night on the sea shore. Morning on that shore means nothing to its inhabitants. The sky is cold and gray, sometimes filled with snow, falling silent. The beach is all white except at the waters edge On the water are huge cakes of ice floating about. They freeze together as the cold increases. The gulls stand about. They cannot get fish and it is too cold to fly. A flock of geese go flashing past them. They are screaming: “Come away, you gulls, come South where it is warm.” The gulls cast a shivering glance at the geese. The wind increases, the ice breaks up. The gulls have to fly now, for there is no place to stand. The wind and water later lashes the ice into a fine slush. Night is coming on again. With it comes sleet, snow and cold winds. As we go away, we hear the faint cry of the heron, and the water washing up on the snow-covered beach, as it seems to say: “Break, Break, Break, At the foot of thy crags, O Sea! But the tender grace of a day that is dead Will never come back to me.” CHARLES YOUNG, Class 1930. WHY WORRY? Why worry if you flunk a subject or two, If your lessons for tomorrow you are yet to do. If your girl has turned you down, and you feel blue; Or if you’re on the football team with not a victory to boast. Don’t worry, for you will soon find it doesn’t pay. Your work remains undone and your hair'll soon turn gray; You’ll find the joys of life slip by; While you sit still and worry or sigh. Meet your defeats with a grin and a laugh; Grit your teeth and curl up a smile. Tackle your task with joy in your heart, And show that you’re glad to do your part; And I'll bet a cent to a million that you’ll land on top. M. SECURO, Class of 1930.

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THE GREEN AND WHITE 15 ZENOBIA'S INFIDELITY Dr. Tibbett, a surgeon went, Down to a showman’s circus tent, To help an elephant in distress, For he was a doctor, and had to say yes. He hurried and climbed into his gig, Which was not so very, very big, And sped to the tent where he saw, A burnt elephant lying on the floor. “O save him, help him!” the showman cried, “So my dearest Zenobia will not die.” So the doctor knelt down and took off his coat. For a badly burnt elephant was no joke. “A barrel of linseed oil,” Doc exclaimed; “To see if I can relieve the elephant’s pain.” And after an hour’s work or two, The elephant’s pain was a little soothed. To show her appreciation for Doc’s work, Zenobia decided to pay the clerk. And much to young Doc’s distaste. She twisted her trunk 'round Doc’s waist. He then promised to call on the morrow, For he must ease Zenobia’s sorrow. For she hated much to sec him go. And insisted on caressing his nose. He called on her every day or two, To see what he might be able to do, Until the elephant was completely cured. And as long as his visits could be endured. Many weeks passed, And, at last, Zenobia went in search one day, For the doctor she wanted to pay. One sunny day, Doc got in his gig, And went to see Miss Minnetta, he did, And all of a sudden something that looked like a hose, Insisted on rubbing the doctor’s nose. “Great Caesar!” screamed Doc, For Zenobia, he was unable to stop. And here she was, donned in her red cap. All ready to pay him back. She lavished caresses on poor old Doc, Until he was unable, Zenobia to stop. And the showman appeared on the scene, And let out a terrible scream. “What do you mean?” said he, Stealing Zenobia’s affections from me, Why we’ve been pals for fourteen years, And he immediately burst into tears. But much to the doctor's dismay, Zenobia followed him day after day. So out to the pasture he did go, For fear Dr. Pentegill, his rival, would know. Perched on top of the pasture fence. The doctor did commence, To solve a way to rid him, Of his terrible, terrible victim. About ten minutes elapsed. And his rival, Dr. Pentegill, passed. “What is the matter?” shouted he; “Want me to take the case for thee?” A peal of laughter was heard, And the elephant’s temper was stirred, She gave a convulsive start, And poor old Doc nearly fell apart. Such humiliation Doc never had had For the elephant was getting very mad, She gave one terrible stride, And into the woods she did fly. Thus into the drugstore Doc did go. For a prescription for Zenobia, Ho! A pound of whale soap was added until, The contents was made into a pill. The doctor sped merrily along, Until he saw a laughing throng, And heard a heavy thumping on the road, Which certainly did sound like a load. “Heaven help me!” the Doc did cry, For Miss Minnetta Bunker he did spy. “Your pill, Zenobia!” he said, almost a scream, And Zenobia immediately ate believing it cream. And all of a sudden the elephant groaned, And fell to the ground with a terrible moan, But in a few minutes she was fast asleep; And on the elephant Doc did peep. “Alas, my troubles are over,” he replied. And rode off with Miss Minnetta by his side. For Zenobia, now cured of her affection, follows her master; And this is the end of a terrible disaster. ELIZABETH BREEN, ’30. THE STORM One fine, frosty morning in the middle of October Tom and Fred Harris rowed their small skiff out of the place where their large power launch was moored. They were going on an all-day sea trip around Narragansett Bay. When they were a few miles from home, Tom happened to open the morning newspaper, which he had thoughtfully taken along. “The paper predicts a thunderstorm for this afternoon,” he said. “Don’t always believe the newspapers,” replied Fred. They are almost always wrong. After having cruised about for sometime in the bay, they started back towards home. Tom pointed his finger to an ominous looking patch of gathering black clouds, directly over the path they were taking. Fred, who was steering at the time, gave the engine more gasoline and the craft speeded faster over the waters. Very soon the waves were whipped up by frequent gusts of winds. Then some water leaked into the engine and the boat stopped. The storm came on in all its fury. Narragansett Bay loked like one mass of foam. The bovs were in despair. Fred tried in every way