Deerfield High School - Arrow Yearbook (South Deerfield, MA)

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Freshman Class Faculty AlI'I'l'Sl'I'S-MRS. CLARK, MISS DECKER Adamski, Helen Adkins, Irene Allis, Ruth llartos, Josephine Bell, Robert lierard, Raymond Hielowski, Alec Bond, Myrtle Boron, Charlotte Boron, Stanley Bridges, Robert Chambers, Joseph Chesnul, Elizabeth Clapp, Elizabeth Ilecker, Edith Ilenton, Laura lleseavieh, Mary Dickinson, Cecil llrinzek, Gladys lluda, Katharine l arriek, Wanda French, Mildred Greene, Natalie Gritz, Minnie Gromatski, Joseph Ilaranack, Olga ine Hawley, llorothy Helstosky, Stanley, Jr. Helstosky, Walter Hibbard, Marion Hicks, Lawrence I-ludyma, Angela Kelleher, Edward Kilgzour, Edward Klepadlo, Jennie Kolokoski, Chester Kowalski, Helen Kubilis, Louis Lankowski, Frank Lewandoski, Walter Lipinski, Camilla Manix, Ruth Manson, Louise Morowski, Teddy Orloski, Stasia Paciorek, Henry Patterson, Dorothy Pearson, Francis Pease, Marshall Powers, James Puchalski, Lucy Rotkiewicz, Leon Rotkiewicz, William Sadoski, Roger Sadowski, Bernard Sanicki, Victoria Sherman, Ernest Smaha, Edward Smith, Francis Stangre, Laurence Sysun, Helen Szelewicki, Helen Szelewicki, John Szymanski, John Tenney, Celia Tkaczzyk. Sophie Tuttle, Virginia Tlrkiel, Alexander Wcislo, John Wells, Myllis Whitney, Caroline Wolfram, Edith Wozniak, Anna Wysinski, Helen Wysk, Rose Vablonoski, Henry Zewski, Alfred Zukowsky, Adolph

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1036 4-44444 DEERFIIZI .ID which the person attempts to show you how many bones he can break in your hand, and the naturally firm clasp which, although powerful, does not cause you to shake and wiggle your hand to start the blood circulat- mg again. Although a person appears to be a timid soul, the handshake sometimes changes your opinion. A person who is a good example of this fact is Ber- narr Macfadden, the magazine pub- lisher, who is a rather small man, but being a physical culture expert, has a grip of iron. How do you shake hands? R. Linehan ANOTHER NORTH WOODS INCIDENT A little house on Center Street Hill in the center of Bangor, Maine, was the scene of busy preparations. The youngest of the family was leaving for Powers's Camp, up in the north- ern woods. I made the trip to Millinocket, the home of the Great Northern Paper Company, by train. After hanging around a few days, I got a job of night clerk in the Palace of the Woods, the only hotel in the little town. In about three weeks, I start- ed for Hunt's tote camp, the jump- ing off place before you hit the big woods. There I fell in with Mike Gold- on. He was headed for Butterfield's Campg so I changed my plans, and we took the tote team heading for the camp. It was a wild, desolate re- gion that we had to travel through- big timber, rocky ledges and loawling, tumbling streams. Upon reaching the camp, we found that it was under quarantine for smallpox. Mike and ARROXV 5559?-f 15 I sneaked up after dark and got in before we could be stopped. One of the stricken men was an old friend of mine, and he was delighted to see me. Two days afterward, three of the cases were taken to an abandoned camp three miles from ours. Mike and I got jobs as cooks. We had to get lunch for the men and car- ry it up the mountain to where they were working. The meals were most- ly baked beans, cold, sliced, salt pork, coffee, and some sort of cake or cook- ies. It was a rough fare, but hearty. One night the cook told Mike and me, that, if we would scrub the cook's shack, he would help us. We agreed, of course, and it fell to me to lug the water. I had to carry it about five hundred yards from Souaderhunk stream, as the camp was situated on it. It was pitch dark on the path, but I had made two trips and was on the last, when just ahead, in a tree over the path, I saw what seemed to be two balls of fire. As I watched them, they seemed to drop a little at a time. Suddenly with a start it came to me what they were. The pails went in different directions, and with a yell, I charged up the path towards camp. The men had been lying around, not doing much, until they heard my yell. They came to their feet, and the boss grabbed a rifle. I had run into trees, brush, and other obstacles, trying to get to camp, and I was a sorry sight. At first I couldn't talk clearly, but after awhile I was able to stammer out a pretty good account of what I had run from. Fred Camoe, the boss of the outfit, wanted me to go back, but I wouldn't. They then went back to the place where I had been, and they saw what I had seen. When the two balls of fire dropped this time, Ca- moe fired, and a spitting, snarling