Central High School - Aglaia Yearbook (Manchester, NH)

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'10 IANUARY AGLAIA OF THE ORACLE The New Ski Technique By lolm Mullin: Sometimes I wish the good old days were back again when skiing was a simple matter of hitching a pair of toe straps over your overshoes and gliding breathlessly down a 5- degree slope. To stop yourself, you sat down, jerked your two-dollar skis around, and stood up again. If you had poles at all they were sawed-off broomsticks. Nowadays skiing is a high-pressure, stream- lined science in which wind resistance, air pressure, and the number of degrees at which the slope slants are all taken into considera- tion. Equipment is expensive and bewilder- ing. The ski language is a peculiar mixture of Austrian profanity, Scandinavian slang, and American engineering terms. The talk is of vorlage, tempos, and gelandesprungs. The terms and jumps themselves are com- plicated, perilous gyrations. In fact, they are so fantastically complicated that I have de- cided to add a few of my own, which in my opinion are just as easy and sane as the or- dinary ski methods. I would suggest: The Rocket Reel: While proceeding down the slope, shove both poles in the snow on one side, lift your skis clear off the ground with a spring, cross them, whirl around the pole twice, come back to earth, and continue downhill. The Reverse Gimlet: While proceeding down the slope, advance one ski far enough so that you can slide the other behind it. thus crossing your legs. Now place one pole in the ground, turn around by throwinj' your weight, and go backwards. While going backwards, slide your poles in the groun spring, uncross your skis, turn around, and fall back to the ground, proceeding downh The Halsbrechen: Unfasten your harnesses, and sit down backwards on the skis. Push off with your poles, and, while going at top speel, stand up, turn around, fall back on skis facing in normal direction, walk down skis to up-ended part, return, turn around again, and sit down. The only thing that worries me is that if these turns are ever heard of, somebody will be sure to try them. I sat high on a hillg I watched the sun Sink quietly Into the west. I was alone. I sat high on a hill, I watched the moon Creep quietly Across the sky. I was alone. Friendship By lc-an Form' I saw him climb th So roughly clad, His figure bent, His eyes downcast. I knew him not. I saw his tired eyes Gaze at the moon. He loved it, too, And then I knew He was my friend. e hill

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LITERARY 9 Candles By lean Puller A cylindrical body of tallow or wax, in- closing a wick of cotton, and used to furnish light -this is Noah Webster's definition of a candle. But doesn't a candle mean more to you than a means of furnishing light? Doesn't it bring pictures before your mind? When you think of a candle, you may think of a festive birthday party. Perhaps you picture an excited group gathered about a long table in a dimly lighted room, their faces glowing, their eyes sparkling, as they wait eagerly for the lighted cake. Isn't there always a hush as the cake is brought in? The burning lights have a deep significance. Eas' flickering flame seems to be a tiny ghost o' some past year, bringing back memories. Yet at the same time each flame bears a wish for happiness for the future. Or do you think of a poor fisherman's cot- tage when you see a candle? Maybe you see a small weather-beaten hut, built high up a rocky cliff, a white tallow candle lit in the topmost window. The flame burns steadily, shining far out to sea. Perhaps it is in mem ory of one lost at sea. But it is a symbol of faith of one who has lighted it night after night. Perhaps some day it will guide some lost ship to port. . When I see a candle I remember a group of campers singing as they stood arm in arm at the water's edge. It was banquet night, their last night together. The air was cool and moist. Taps echoed and re-echoed across the lake. Far out upon the water was a pageant of lights. Each girl had set her candle afloat. Each candle was a memory of happy days at camp, of some glorious trip. Each tiny flame fulfilled some fond dream. How many pictures a candle can call to mind! How many dreams come true as you watch it burn! To me a candle is a tiny torch lighting a path of memory into the past path of hope into the future. Cottage By Belly Laflamme The word cottage always brings to my mind's eye a small, low, whitewashed build- ing topped by a neatly thatched roof. It looks, as it stands there in the cool shade, like a little old lady, with her straw sunbonnet, resting on her way to market. And like a little strand of white hair protruding through the bonnet, the chimney smoke brings to mind the life inside. Bustling around in the neat kitchen is a buxom, jolly country wife humming a merry English folk song as she busies herself cooking for her ravenous shep- herd husband and sons. The savory odor of the dinner makes one's mouth Water. She stands for a moment in the refreshing shade of the aged oaks which stand guard over the little cottage. As she rests her arms akimbo, she shakes with hearty chuckles at the maids and youths who, in complete disregard of the world, are dancing and playing in the shade. As she stands there, figures appear on the horizon, figures she recognizes even at that distance. She retreats to the haven of the cot- tage which she has helped make into a home for those three distant figures. For who would call this picture complete unless I added that this little appealing structure is also a-home.

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LITERARY 11 The Small Boy By Z iven Baghdarariun He is a very inquisitive lad. How are your folks? Who will win the football game? Why do they throw passes? Where was the Fire last night? Are you working now? Why do you get all dirty when you play football? Did you catch many fish yesterday? His interest in others and things around him classifies him not as a boy who plays in the sandbox, but as one who is affected by the things with which he comes in contact. Sailing, I938's Most Popular Sport By Victor Luca: Universal Newsreel, Life, and countless other authorities claim sailing the most popu- lar sport of the 1938 season. Sailing offers the vacationist a wholly new recreation, a means of exploring the unlimited reefs and bays. Doctors of very good standing claim sailing to be one of the best remedies for nervous disorders. The owners of these boats are not members of the Four Hundred but ordinary citizens like you and me. Some people buy these boats direct from the factory, others buy them second-hand, but lim and I built our own craft. The most popular of small sailers are the Moth boats Qeleven and one-half- foot catboats with only one sail.j These boats cost in the whereabouts of two hundred dol- lars, but can be built for as little as thirty-Five dollars. The regular U. S. sailing season comes to a climax about Labor Day, but in these parts it ends later. Lake Massabesic has sailing races every Sunday until ice forms. Governor Francis Murphy donates the Govemofs Cup to the winner of a number of scheduled races over a six-mile triangular course. This year a thousand people watched one race held in August. Thousands Cincluding myself, have dis- covered new thrills lying on the decks with the spray washing their faces. Sometimes a squall-a sharp gust of wind-comes up from nowhere, it seems, and causes a knock- down. The skipper turns the boat right side up, bails the cockpit out, and it's off to the races. Who, What, and Why By Anthony Morse No one cares about him unless he's late. Heis always there-a strange white figure in the early morning mist. Striding firmly to your door he smashes down part of his heavy burden. Then his confidence seems to break. Emitting a shrill whistle, he runs from txt house, summoning his horse for the get- away. And that's all. We don't even know if he's bald or has a six-foot beard and is cross eyed. Something must be done about it. Not many people have seen him. Those who have are rather unreliable sources of in- formation, Qbeing slightly woozy at the time.j It doesn't do any good to get up early. True, your alarm does its best, but an alarm can be turned off. And it really wouldn't be very nice to set a bear-trap for him. But still, we would like to see him. Why, you might pass him in broad daylight and never know him. 'Tis a most astounding enigma. Is he a dark dreary bachelor or a happily married man leading a double life? Well, good luck to you on your search, but if you do find him, do a little favor for me. Ask him what you will, but please, while you're at it, Find out why he makes so much noise with those milk bottles every morning.