Central High School - Aglaia Yearbook (Manchester, NH)

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16 IUNE ACSLAIA NUMBER or THE ORACLE CONTENTMENT A soft breeze, Fragrant flowers, Green leaves, Languid hours, A bird's song, A splashing stream, Nothing wrong- A summer dream! CROFTON THORP. SKIING AT MOUNT WASHINGTON In the Easter vacation of 1936 we started for Mount Washington, Roger Sanborn, Buster Truesdale, and I. We arrived at our destination, Pinkham Notch, at about three o'clock on a Monday afternoon. The climb was a hard one, because we had to carry enough provisions for four days. Our lug- gage consisted of skis, poles, cooking utensils, food, blankets and a small portable Kamp- cook stove. Arriving at the Half-way huts about eight o'clock, we built our fires and then went to bed on fir boughs, very comfortable to sleep on. A most exciting thing happened to us at Tucherman's Ravine. Sanborn had reached the top of the head wall and was about to fasten on his skis when he lost his balance and, with the help of the wind, came sliding down the side of the Ravine. As he went by us, we jumped on him. Lucky for him that we did, becausehe was headed for a rock. That night it rained, and the water loosen- ed the snow and started an avalanche. We heard it from the camp. It made a low rumbling sound that grew louder and more terrible as it came, bending or breaking every tree in its path. We jumped up and went out, but could not see a thing because it was so dark. The next day was a dreary one. It was still raining, but we wanted to go up to the Ravine to see what happened the night before. The opening into it was blocked. In the distance we could see the water coming off the head wall. That made up our minds. We started down the mountains for home. The brook had risen from two to three feet over night. Sanborn crossed it with difficul- ty, and Buster and I threw our luggage across to him. We finally got to the bottom. The trip home was uneventful except for the T- bone steak we had in Laconia. EDWIN MOORE. A NEW HAT Easter! What does that mean to you? A few days' vacation, real start of spring, a new suit? Maybe so. To me it means the spell of mad hilarity ...... this buying a new hat. An Easter bonnet, to me, is more than just any kind of hat. It seems as if it is a bit of spring, a whiff of apple blossoms, the song of a bird. Because it is so symbolical, I am very particular what kind of hat I buy. I go prepared to fight it out to the end. From an advance showing of new chap- eaux, I know that this season I shall spend another crazy period looking for a spring headgear. I was all ready with a sweet dis- position Q which lasted only at the first starej, a friend, a comb and a mirror, and a deter- mined mind to find a hat that not only was chic, and becoming, but one that was fairly respectable-looking. For weeks, I know I shall be haunted by those hats. Small ones! Big ones! Wide brims! Narrow brimsl Greta Garbo hats! Ginger Roger's hats! Sailor hats! Soldier's hats! Arabian turbans: Mandarin hats! Flow- ers, oh Howers Everywhere, on top, all over the top, on one side or the other, in front, in back! Oh, heavens, was there no end? But it was all in vain! What had I to show for it-a darling hat, a chic model, a bit of spring, a flowery turban-oh, no. I had a headache! BARBARA HEAD.

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l y IUNE AGLAIA NUMBER OF THE ORACLE 15 directing of his musicians. I picture him with tousled hair 'Cprobably because he runs his fingers up through it every little whilej, a large collar affording plenty of room for excess motion, and trousers that have no press whatsoever. ' He uses his free hand as much as his baton, and if someone shouted his name ten feet away, he wouldn't hear it because of such deep concentration. When a selection is finished, he wipes his brow, smooths his hair,' and gives the audience a curt bow. Now to go to the other extreme, where the leader is one Qof the musicians, not be- cause his orchestra is any better trained but because he has rriore faith in them to keep an even tempo and to notice each crescendo and diminuendo. He sits at the piano Cno musicj, looks at the dancers, ceiling, or any- thing that happens to catch his eye. Occasion- ally he waves his left hand slightly, more for the benefit of lhis audience than anything else. And then thereps the leader in a white lin- en suit who would rather talk into the micro- phone than direcf his players. He waves a highly polished black and white baton and taps his foot at the same time. Every so often he turns around and favors his following with an artificial smile such as you see in tooth paste advertisements. He has an over- estimated opiniorl of himself but a wonder- ful group of musicians. Which of these do you like best? I like the extremist-such as Fats Waller. DONALD PERRY. . .i,,1.1..-T 'ON A DARK AND STORMY NIGHT Outside, the wind was howling about the eaves, and blowing torrents of rain against the house. It was a wild night late in Octo- ber when such istorms are frequent at the beach. Inside our weather-beaten dwelling a cheery fire roared in the fireplace. The large hunk of driftwood on the andirons filled the room with the odor of tar as it burned mer- rily. Above the sound of the wind and rain we could hear the constant, thunderous roar of the waves as they dashed upon the rocky shore. It was high tide, higher than usual, and the waves were breaking far up on the rocks. As we sat reading by the fire, I suddenly thought I heard a sound which was neither the roaring of the wind, nor the door bump- ing against the side of the house. There heemed to be a pitiful howling coming from not far off. As I strained my ears to hear above the din, the sound seemed to come from somewhere near the region of the front porch. Our dog was awakened from his dreams of rabbit-hunting. He, too, heard the wailing. He growled deep down in his throat and his back bristled. What could be out on such a night? Gath- ering all my courage, I called my compan- ions, took Rigo by the collar, and opened the door. After turning on the porch light, I could see nothing for an instant. Then I made out a huddled form near the steps. I went over and picked up the whining crea- ture, and took it into the house. To our sur- prise, we beheld a shivering Collie puppy about four months old. She was drenched, cold, and apparently starving. Rigo strolled over to the newcomer, and after examining her curiously, showed his sympathy by lick- ing her dripping face. We gave the pup a pan of hot milk, and dried her fur thoroughly before the fire. Soon she seemed to feel much better. She was a pretty dog-golden with white markings. We did not know where she came from and could only assume that some summer people had gone off and left her to starve when they moved back to the city. ELIZABETH TORREY.

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IUNE AGLAIA NUMBER or T1-113 GRACLE 17 VACATION DAYS There's a bank, where daisies blossom By a little noiiy creek, There's a wall ywith climbing ivy, Where the sun' plays hide and seek. There's a sweetgrass scented meadow, Where the beeb hum all day long, There's a cherily tree where robins Sing their gayest, sweetest song. There's a pathll love to follow, Where a sparkling river plays And my heartlis filled with longing For those sweet vacation days. l ADOREE GRENIER. ,..il i. KENTUCKY TO BROADWAY On one of tlilose miserable, dark, rainy days the show fblded up in a little town in Kentucky after lbsing money in every village from New York to Kentucky, so it wasn't surprising, although one little girl wasn't pre- pared for it. 5 Barbara gazed down the sleepy street, which passed the small hotel porch, wonder- ing what she slhould do next. What could she do to earn money in the town to ger her carfare back to New York? The rest of the troupe had wired home or drawn our their savings, but sheihad no home to wire to and her savings-well, she had them in the palm of her hand, two thin dimes. As for borrow- ing from the others, they were having their own troubles without worrying about her. If she could only get back to New York maybe she could get a chance in Zinger's latest play. She had heard he was looking for new talent. l Barbara's lips curved bitterly. If she could only get to New York. She had plenty of new talent. Suddenly she heard voices be- hind her. Onel was saying: Mr. Zinger, it seems such a ciiazy thing to do. You have a hillbilly play, and so you come to Kentucky, not to get local color as the public expected, but to get a new star. Why not take one from New York? Barbara's skin prickled. Mr. Zinger, Mr. Roger Zinger, who was producing this new play she had just been thinking of. Call it wild or crazy, the other voice was speaking now, Call it anything you want but the theater needs new talent and new blood. I'm going to find it. Unless l can find a girl who was raised in the hillza, a girl who has Kentucky in her veins and in her heart I'll never put on that playf, Hidden by the back of the leather chair, Barbara sat tensely waiting, her heart pound- ing. Well, the first voice again, You've got nerve, hunting for a star in a dump like this. Now just one more question Mr. Zinger 'I Sorry, the voice was less plain, he was moving away. I'm on my way into the hills this afternoon. I'm staying at Old Iane's place, and I won't be back until I have a star tucked under my arm. Barbara bit her lips thoughtfully as she sank back into the chair. New talent, where would he find it out here? f'Old Iane's place for headquarters. Star tucked under his arm. She had it. oa in a cloud of dust to her room, she was new talent. She, at Old Ianels place! She, the star tucked under his arrn. H' The next morning, with the bright sun beating down upon her shining bare head, as she trudged along the dusty mountain road, Barbara was dressed in a red and blue check- ed gingham dress which she had got from the chambermaid in exchange for her own stylish suit. In the early hours of the dawn, she had slipped out of the hotel. At six, she washed her face in a cool stream to refresh herself. At ten olclock the tiny village was far be- hind, She was headed for Old Iane's. Cau- tious questioning of the sleepy hotel clerks