Dexter High School - Signet Yearbook (Dexter, ME)

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26 THE SIGNET ed lby a large bronze plate, which is placed in the floor of the room. Another interesting place in the city is Saint John's College, which is one of the oldest schools in the country. It was found- ed in 1696 as King William's School, but later the name was changed to the one used at present. On the campus of this college there isa giant popl-ar, which is called the Liberty Tree. This tree which is more than six hundred years old was the scene of many colorful events in Colonial and Revo- lutionary history. In 1752 the colonists met there to sign a treaty with the Indians, and before the Revolution the citizens used to gather there to hear the patriots arraign King George. Then after the War, Wash- ington and Lafayette, standing there un-der the same tree, addressed the people of An- napolis. Thus, We have Annapolis, a busy, modern city, capital of Maryland, seat of the United States 'Naval Academy, and yet in spite of all these things, still retaining its quaint colonial and Revolution-ary appearance. Donald Palmer '29. ' AN ADVENTURE AT SEA Laughing and dancing, rippling and smil- ing, tossing her green tresses in glee at the playful antics of the breezes, the sea chal- lenges us to come out and 'make sport with her. Again, her lovely -bosom bared to the skies and rising and falling in langorous rhythm, she beckons alluringly to mankind. But be- ware,+she is a beautiful siren luring us on to our doom. She is a charming woman with laughter on her lips, but with treach- ery in her heart. She compels us to love her, but she loves not in return. I used to love her. My blood used to tingle gloriously in my veins -at sight of her. Deep within me there used -to be a wild in- pulse to forsake all and follow her, but alas, there is no more. Why, you ask? Ah! thereby hangs this tale. Listen carefully and let these words sink deep in your minds. Turn a receptive ear to this warning, so that, if perchance, this lovely temptress should try to wreck your ship of life, you like Ulysses of old might srpurn her en- chanting wiles, and sail serenely along. Hearken! One glorious morning, two summers ago, my aged father and I awoke in our cottage by the sea to feel an overwhelming desire to sail out on the deep, and catch some fish for our dinner. The call of the sea, the glorious tang of the salt air filled us with a joyous exhilira- tion. We started our little motorboat, made ready our fishing lines and bait and headed for the open sea. A half-hour's run and We were on our fishing ground, live miles from the mainland, close to some sunken reefs and ledges, over which the waves broke merrily. We anchored, let down our heavy cod- lines and waited expectantly to see what the 'great grab bag of salt-water fishing might yield us. Soon, we were hauling in cod -and -haddock, with now and then a dog- fish, or a sculpin. Once my line caught on lbottom and when I jerked it free and hauled it to the surface, I found a soft, pulpous, shapeless lump of white flesh impaled upon my hook. Father said it was a species of sea urchin which clings to the rocks as does ia barnacle. After 'having caught enough for our needs we tired of this sport. It is wet, dull, nasty and monotonous. Compared to the thrill of fresh water fishing it is very uninteresting, -this hauling up of logy, heavy, stolid cod from the deep. Looking about, I perceived a warning note in the lowering iblack clouds in the North. The swell was deepening. The light green waters darkened. 'The waves began to fbeat threateningly with an angry roar over the ledges. The wind freshened. My father, old in the lore of the sea, said that a storm was brewing. Hastily, we hauled in our lines and prepared to leave. The sea was nofw very rough. We would rise straight up to the top of a .great comber and then with a sickening lurch, pitch down into the trough of the sea. The bell bouy off on our right began to toll a

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ll I ll l 1 U , ' I 1 I KXNX I ANNAPOLIS, ALIAS CRABTOWN Crabtown, which, in the vocabulary of a midshipman of the U. S. Naval Academy means Annapolis, Maryland, is a queer, quaint city. A Northerner entering it is pleased, confused, and astonished by his surroundings. Tlhe city in appearance is a combination of ia small modern metropolis and an old-fashioned colonial town. Its houses are crowded closely together, and only a few of them have lawns. Many are perfect examples of colonial architecture, and have been wonderfully preserved. The streets of the city also astonish the traveler. These narrow, cobblestone thor-A oughfares seem to be wandering among the houses, and going in no particular direction at all. Indeed, some of them run into houses, or walls, and therefore end abrupt- ly, while others have no end at all, but merely go around in circles. In fact, near the center of the city, there is one street which forms nearly a perfect figure eight. It is difficult to imagine ihow, in a city with a population of about sixteen thousand, all the people can earn a living. It is par- ticularly difdcult in this case, for Annapolis has not a single industry of any kind, its only income coming from the Naval Acad- emy, and the thousands of visitors and tour- ists that visit it every year. However, the city itself has some entic- ing attractions for the tourists, for An- napolis is one of the oldest cities in the country, and was the first capital of the United States. Indeed, the original Capitol building with its large wooden dome is still standing, and is being used as the Maryland State House. Of course many additions have been made to it, yet the former build- ing has been kept the same. One room in it is specially interesting, because of the fact that General Washington resigned his commission there after the Revolution. The spot where he stood while doing so, is mark-

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THE SIGNET 27 deep, warning, ominous knell. The shriek- ing wind picked up the white crests of the seas and hurled the salty spume in our faces. The outlook was fearsome. Just then, the anchor rope parted, we were at the mercy of the sea, in which there is no mercy. With no stay to hold us head on into the gale, we rolled and tossed about sickeningly. We were fast drifting onto the ledges, now hidden under a seething mael- strom of raging waters. My face blanched with terror, and a grim, set look crept into my fat'her's weather-ioeaten visage. Scarcely could we keep our feet in our tiny craft, so as to turn the fly-wheel over. In our excitement we flooded the engine, which was a cranky, delicate ipiece of machanisfm at best. Desperately, we toiled over it. Death loomed appallingly near. Despair filled my soul. I felt a fierce, ach- ing resentment toward this sea, which seem- ed to be gloating greedily over our misfor- tune. Was I in the flower and pride of my youth to die a terrible death without a chance to express my real self? I cursed the day I fwas born, life was only a cruel joke. Soon I was to be food for the fish. They would prey upon my body as I had preyed upon theirs. Those lashing s-eas, that terrific wind, that awful darkness paralized me with terr-or. Then I looked at my dear father, now toiling over the engine. A great wave of courage swept over and revived my sinking soul. Consigning my soul and his, to that supreme being who marks even a sparro-w's fall, I resolved to struggle as best I might and when at last these seas should drown us, and should pound our bodies to .pieces on the ledges, we should have the satisfaction of dying bravely and well-- man can do no more. A great roar was in our ears. The surf was deafening. A second or two more and we would be Hung into the jaws of those ledges whose sharp teeth would crush our boat like an eggshell. Then-a sputter or two, and the engine started! At the cost of almost swamping our boat, we brought her about and quartering the seas started for the mainland, which we could only glimpse for a moment or two from the tops of the waves. A great feeling of victory swept over my soul. Although we were not yet out of danger I shook my fist at the raging winds and the towering seas. I taunted them and mocked them, as cheated of their rightful prey, they seemed to re- - double their efforts in baffled fury. We seemed to be sliding over the great backs of deep sea monsters which reared their snowy manes on high, but were un- able to touch us. An hour later we reached home. My grief- stricken mother, joyous at our safe return, welcomed us with ia tearful embrace. So ended the most terrifying experience in my life. I know what it is to be utterly at the mercy of the elements, I know how puny is man's effort when 'pitted against the mighty, resistless strength of the ocean. And now when I se-e the calm, restful face of the sea, I smile sardonically at her. I know how she in a sudden fit of anger can be transformed from a glorious playmate into a pitiless foe, against whom there is often no escape. I remember vividly the wild face of' the storm, demoniacal in her fury, and I stand her-e on the safe, firm shore and laugh at the sea, as she beats a sullen roar on the rocky headlands. There is no friendship between her and me. I entertain no delusions about her, for I am disallusioned, ra sadder and a wiser man. William Dunham '28, THE BATTLE The Jones family was very much at peace this fine, cold December day with the exception of little Tommy. Tommy was five years old. He had many wonderful toys, especially some tin soldiers which his uncle had sent to him the last Christmas. His father was a carpenter by trade and had OF TOYLAND given him a -present for Christmas, which Tommy enjoyed very much. Unknown to Tommy he had built a small toy village for the playroom. Little Tommy decided to have a battle that very day. He collected all 'his soldiers together and divided them into two armies. 1