Central Aroostook High School - Arostookan Yearbook (Mars Hill, ME)

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Senior Write Down --l .ii, Lawrence Ackerson Vincent Rideout Marie Orser, Harry HOtham Lenora Sanborn Thelma Tapley Herschel -IOslyn Marian StOver Betty Kennedy Miriam Case Garnella Edmunds Frances DuNphy Fred Tapley Roma Rand Cecil CAldwell Marjorie Lello Helen DIllen Malcolm MahaN Robert Shaw Mona Tapley Audrey MIlls Louise SmiTh Charlene FUlton Ruth SmiTh Daniel BEnjamin Philip Crichton Glenna WaLsh Crystal GrAss Russell Smith John GraSs Louise BickfOrd Nellie HatField 3 4-

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The Cannon Roars Daniel - Let's go to camp! Donald - Have you heard the one about the traveling salesman? Louise - What do you think? Ruth Braun - Let's go to Westfield! Cecil - How about it, kid? Garnella - Oh, curses! Let's do some- thing! Frances - What do you care? Helen - I'll go if Mary will! Phi - We'll have to get together on t is. Miriam - Golly! Charlene - I got another letter today. Crystal - What to do about it. John Grass - Tough walking today! Nellie - I'll take care of that! John Griffin - Let's make up, sweet- heart. Lawrence A. - Judas Priest! Marjorie - I wonder what Harvard's doing? Betty - My word! Herschel - I've got another girl! Harry - What are you doing tonight, Frances? Malcolm - All right, you guys, lay off. Ada - You don't mean it! Laura - Meet me in the corridor this noon, Dean. Audrey - Bless m' soul! Marie - Come on, now! Robert - Go fan your Aunt Becky! Lenora - My cow! Vincent - Fan my brow! Roma - I'll see what Louise says. Ruth A. - Do you know anybody in Westfield? Russell - Kiss my wrist, you big sissy! Ruth B. - Did you get your transcrip- tion? Louise S. - No kiddin'? Marian - Oh, my operation! Lawrence W. - What did you say? Glenna - Oh, my goodness! Thelma - Oh yes!! Mona - Lordy!! Fred - How about a little kiss?

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AL JL JL JC JC JL It Ji- JL if f,-E Litefafy llllila gl al -- WW ' S -' 11' 'U' Sf af 19 if if UF ,FV gr NATURE'S BEAUTIES What is more thrilling and enhanc- ing than nature? Her works rank far above the stiff, lifeless, works of man. She has painted pictures and scenes far more beautiful than the most skilled artist with his paintbrush and many varied colors. First, let us consider her flowers. What could attract the human eye more than a field of daisies, butter- cups or the tiny blue forget-me-not? To be sure, these flowers are very common--yes, so common that we sometimes miss their splendor. But if we would pause to look, we might see them as never before. Arrayed in their various velvety hues, they present a most picturesque scene a- gainst the green of the meadow. U In Spring when the trees are burst- mg forth into bloom, we marvel at their beauty. In bringing forth their green leaves and gay colored blossoms, they proclaim to the world that life is renewed within them. The leaves re- main bright and beautiful all through the summer months and then, in the fall they turn to marvelous shades of yellow, brown and red. We can see then that the tree never fades in beau- ty, or forgets that it has a striking part to play in Nature's game of life. Think of the mountains, hills, mead- ows, lakes and streams. These are hewn and wrought by the hand of Nature. When you feel tired and dis- couraged with life, just visit some grassy meadow beside a refreshing brook, where you can dream and med- itate by yourself: or go to some hill and look into the valleys or upon a far away hill, where you can see the sheep grazing in the pastures of verdant green, or hear their bleating sounds. See if your heart isn't made happier and lighter by this. Nature is all very real. We never tire of its magnificent beauty, but we do tire of the things that we have made with our own hands. Nature never ceases her great work. She brings forth wonders, they fade, and she brings forth more. She is ever budding and blossoming witha delicious fragrance. An artist may give us a very strik- ing picture of a sunset, but can he re- produce the magnificent colors that illuminate the horizon as the sun sinks slowly beneath it? Or can he picture the soft and fleecy clouds as they real- ly are? Only as we look upon Nature's own work can we see the real beauty Mildred Beals '35 UD NIGHT of it. The monotony of dusk was blending its darksome shadows with the green fringed foliage of Aberstien. Light breezes swayed the heavy bending ferns and made the hoary leafage give forth an eerie moaning--all else was silence. A soft silken rustle made the night bird flit from its dewy nest and the grass snake glide faster through the damp mosses. Evergreens parted and a soft-moccasined warrior stepped into the faulty light. He looked at