Dexter High School - Signet Yearbook (Dexter, ME)

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THE SI casions when she could be induced by some of her friends 'or relatives to make fthem a visit, the house- seemed more bleak and for- lorn than formerly, and no amount of sun- shine could 'brighten the chill around Grand- mother'-s empty chair. And now, that chrair is empty for all time, and we are left with on-ly the memories -of Grandmother, and a deeper realization of what she has meant to us. Doris' 'Hutchinson '29. THE WRITING OF COMPOSITIONS FOR SCHOOL Of all the things 'most distasteful to me, I think -that the writing of compositions, either for school or for any other purpose takes first place. How casually the teach- er .gives out the assignment! You will write a five-hundred word essay on .such and such a subject tomorrow. Just like that! And then when open dis- may fails to produce anything except -smiles, 'tho-se concerned spend the rest of the day awaiting inspiration. The end of the day usually finds the ispfrilation still A. W. O. L. If a subject is given, it's sure to be some- thing we never heard of, much -less th-ought of before, and if no subject is given that is YVOTSC. Evening finds us reading the article we are to imitate -over -and over again, and knowing less about it with each reading. We chcw up pencils, glare alt the inoffensive cat, and make a dozen- false starts, none of which resemble in the least what we are supposed to imitate. Th-en we chew up another pencil, and, in despair, throw away what we hlave- Written. We go t-o bed, but find thoughts of the essay we have not written recurring more and -more frequently. 'By the time dawn arrives we are sure that .nothing short of down right cruelty on the part of th-e teach- er would -have prompted her to assign such a lesson. And then, as usual, comes school time. All the way to -school we puzzle over whsat we shall write about. Inside the build- ing a smiling teacher at the desk greets us, and with 'trepidation we remember that un- done work, and how teacher's smiling face can straighten out unftil it says plainly, GNET 31 you can't fool me that way. Then we at- tempt to give plausible excuse, which some- how doesn't seem asf -plausible when we try to give it to her. Two minutes. before the bell rings an idea pops into our he-ads. Oh! There it is. Now for some paper, quick, before we lose that thought! And so we 'finally find what we have wanted and then it's a race with the bell to get at least, the rough draft done, and once more we are saved from the disasnter of an absolute failure. We like the teacher again, and can appreciate the humor of the situatilon, and smile- at the remains of our last night's search for in- spirations-the scraps -of paper scattered by an impatient hand, the wood splinters- 'all that n-ow remains of an otherwise per- fect pencil. Ten minutes after English class begins we have forgotten the anxious moments we have spent, and vow never again to get worried over an assignment of written work. An-d then our dear teacher says- I Since you did so well on your w-ork for today you may write another for tomorrow, this time one of 'a thousand words. We start all over again. Ruth Haseltine '29. i CLAMMING What is the most disgusting yet the 'most irrtereslting job in the world? I say dig- gin-g clams. As you walk along -over those unseen slippery seaweed-cover-ed rocks with a fork in one hand and ta clam hod in the other, h-ow much easier it would seem to go without those ex-asperatinvg squirting things. Ah! There must be a quantity of them here, you say a.s you perceive the many' miniature fountains -gushing forth from the sand. Quickly you thrust the 'fork deep- ly into that place and just as quickly you re-c-eive ia vast amount of salt water in your eyes. How helpless you seem, to be unable even to wipe that smanting liquid from your face-, but, with yo-ur hands covered with mud, how can you? Finally, somehow you regain your sight and with added vigor again attack the clam bed. This time your fork grinds 'against a rock and a shiver runs up and down your back, which by this time is ach-

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30 THE SIGNET Nevertheless, even though she refused to admit it, knitting and patchwork were becoming absorbing occupations to her, and ia rocking-chair by a sunny window held hitherto unknown charms. Sometimes the knitting needles w-ould be still for a mo- ment, and Grandmother would look out over the hills with a dreamy expression and a half-smile. It was then that we knew that she was living over some scene of the past, or callin-g up some bright dre-am of her youth, so m-any years -ago. We children hailed these moods with demands of Tell us a story and were seldom disappointed. We crowded closer, in order not to lose a word of these enchanting chronicles of yes- fterday which 'she was unfolding to us. Brightened by her keen sense -of humor and clarified by her sympathetic understanding of children, the :tales held us spellbound, and the end of each was immediately greet- ed by Now 'tell us another one! Of course, we ,always wanted to hear about her own childhood, and so sh-e told us many interesting incidents about her sichool-days in the little white country schoolhouse. After a while, though, she didn't say much about her home life when she was small, for, if we didnft actually cry, we always wanted to, because we felt so sorry for the mowtherless little girl who had had to work so much harder than we could ever imagine. Sometime-s, in connection with these rem- iniscences, she showed us her daguerreo- typos in their faded red plush cases. We could hardly believe that 'she had once been the misehie-v-ous-looking, black-haired girl in the dim old picture. Then, as we watch- ed Grandmother's brown eyes soften as she looked at the picture of 'the young man with the mutton-chop whiskers sitting so stiff- ly at her side, we knew that these were in- 'dee-cl likeness-es of our own grandfather and grandmother. She t-old of -them calmly enough, but we realized 'that -the first few years of her mar- ried life were not easy ones. First, the farm had to be cleared, and the evolution from virgin forest to smo-oth, ferti-le fields was not accomplished in a d-ay. Then, the mortgage- muslt be paid -off. After fourteen hours -of weaving, baking and the various other tasks which made up her day, Grand- mother must spend the evenings -preparing dried apples to sell, for every penny count- ed. No wonder, we thought, that even six- ty years afterwards, sh-e considered idle- ness one of the cardinal sins. The stories that we liked best of all, and fthe ones Grandmother most enjoyed telling, were those about her own children, our father and his older brother and sister. We laughed at the pranks of the little boys, but we never lteased to hear about their sis- ter. Granfdnwther still che-rished a sweet- faced china doll, resplendent in yellowed old-fashioned silk and ruffled pa,n't'alette-s. She didn't say much about it, but we knew that the doll had been the favorite play- thing of the little daughter who hard slowly choked to death with diphtheria, one spring day so many years. ago, in spite of the efforts and pra-yers of her agonized parents. As Grandmolther's' future became more and more limited, the past became more de- sirable, and -memories and recollections took an increrasingly important place- in her thoughts and cionver-sation. It was a long, long ste-p from her generation to ours. We could not always understand her willingness to -return to the days of the past, but she knew. She knew that, for her, life could hold no pleasures equal to those which she had experienced, that there were bright memories which would remain with her fore-ver. Her year-s of hard work had not dimmed her love for beauty and nature. One of her hobbies was her garden of bright, ald- fashioncd flowers. From the time when the first che-ery daffodil appeared to the cutting -of the hast frost-bitten aster, bouquets from Grandmother's garden brightened many sick rooms. She was a most satisfying com- panion on woodland excursions, for she knew and loved ea-ch flower and bush. And -the -most infiallible itest of a kindred spirit -she could always pause to look sa-taa sun- set. 'Sometime-s we grandchildren took h-er somewhat for granted. 'She had always be-en there, ready as any time to sew on ia button or tell fa slt-ory, or, when we were sick, to dose us with que-er concoctions steeped from the dried herbs hanging in the attic. But, somehow, on the infrequent oc-

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T 'T W 'V 32 THE SIGNET ing s-o that it -seems as if you will never be :able to stand up .straight again. At 'last you take those clams that you have conquered down to the water's edge -and turn them out in the water to wash. But al-as! When you come 'back from try- ing to straighten your back, where are the clams? Why, the tide has come 'up and there they 'are out there with about two feet of wet, salty, muddy water over them. This breaks the last straw and with -one last rolling up of the sleeves you leap into that ever increasing depth -of water and gather up what clams have not already gone back to their former bed. At the end, I think you have earned your clamsg do-n't you? Of course the only in- teresting part is eating them. Roscoe Palmer '30. THE CARGO The weather of northwestern Canada in the year of 1927 was probably the coldest and stormies-t since the time of its first settlers. The roads and trails were blocked with snow for months and 'to have passed over these trails would h.ave been at the risk of life. Wolves and other savage ani- mals roamed the woods starved and desper- ate and they would not hesitate to attack a human. Food was ha-rd to 'obtain and everyone had to economize in the use of it. The Indians, situated many miles from the post, were deadly sick. Smallpox had get .a h-old among them and it was spread- ing 'like fire through all their sttlements. The doctors of the trading post were help- less-.. The last of the .antitoxin had been used 'an-d it was- only a question of time be- fore -aill of the aLndians would be totally wiped out if -they eould not obtain more of it. What could be done? This was the qu-estion on every-one's lips. The question 'was -solved at last. Five of the strongest and mo-st ,skillful of their number were to set out ont snfowsh-oes for the nearest tele- graph ofiice. There they would be .able to send word to the hospital at Toronto for the -antitoxian to be sent the quickest way. Airplane was wi-thout doubt the fastest way of travel. The men from the post started prepared 'to 'travel with the 'utmost speed. Would these brave men .be able to .arrive in time? People were dying by the hundreds every day. The terrible disease was driving the people insane. At one of -the Indian villages the missionary h-ad been torn from his bed and tied by the 'crazed natives to a stake and burned alive. The Indians be- lieved that he had brought the Devil of Spots .among them. All of the villages were in a like condition. The men from the post fought their way through the snow and forest, braving the numerous dangers that imperile-cl their lives. At last, tired and exhausted, they reached their goal. Word was at once flashed to 'all the world about the horrible de-struction the disease had wrought. The doctors at Toronto work- ed with the utmost speed. The airport of the city w-as in 'a state -of excitement. The -chief mechanic was carefully tuning up the engine of a swift Ciurtiss mail plane which was to be used for the five hundred mile trip. Everything all right? inquired Jimmy Ross who was to pilot the plane. Perfect, perfect, replied the mechanic who had been so absorbed in his work that he had not seen Jimmy -approach. Not a better plane in the service, -he .added -proud- ly. I shall be glad when this trip is over. The map reads that the country in that vicinity is exceedingly rough and hilly. The landing will be -my only trouble, Jim- my answered -a little Worried. Don t try to ma-ke me believe that the best pilot in the .service is worried, laugh- ed the -mechanic. Their conversation was interrupted by the noise of an approaching automobile which, from the sound, was coming -at a high rate of speed. There was -a sudden grinding of brakes an-d th-e car came to a stop beside the pl-ane. Out of it jumped tw-o men in white uniforms. They, with th aid of Jimmy and the mechanic, safely stored many cases of the -precious antiboxin in the forward compartment of the plane. :Say- ing goodby, Jimmy climbed into the pilot's seat and wrapped himself in his furs. Look- ing around to se-e if everything was clear he pressed the star-ter and fthe powerful Liberty motor roared into life. Glancing over the instrument board in front of him