Fairhaven High School - Huttlestonian Yearbook (Fairhaven, MA)

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THE HUTTLESTONIAN Wasting Our Time W HEN school closed for the annual summer vacation Galileo and I planned a trip to New Hampshire. He had two balloon tires and I had a spare rim. So our next worry was our means of transpor¬ tation. We decided to take along three other fellows so we should have someone with whom to share the expenses. We took up a collection among the gang and counted i t. Much to our surprise we had sixty-four dollars and ninety-nine cents. The next move was to buy the best looking Cadillac we could for the money. After three hours and ten minutes of deliberating we finally came home with Henrv Ford’s favorite. j The next morning about seven o’clock, we were ready to start. After knocking over the mailbox Galileo drove up to my front door and honked his horn. (The noise that came forth sounded like our death knell.) Remember this was my first sight of the car. I had helped decide to buy but I had not gone with the fellows to get it. It surely had a won¬ derful appearance but later the old moral, still waters run deep, was brought to my mind. With the exception of three threadworn tires, a cracked windshield, two bent mudguards and a broken tail light, it was in perfect condition. “We should make New Hampshire by the time school starts,” said I to myself. After ten or fifteen minutes of cranking we chugged out. The clutch caught in the floor board and we rode about six or seven miles in low speed. I suppose you are wondering why we didn’t burn out the brake¬ bands. In the first place we didn’t have any. Finally the clutch went into high and we were going at the terrific speed of nineteen miles an hour. Presently we came to the largest hill I had ever seen in my life. Galileo stepped on the brake but the brake was broken or about to break. Anyway the car wouldn’t stop. We went down at about seventy miles an hour and upon arriving at the bottom the car went dead. We cranked and cranked but it wouldn’t go. After a thorough investigation we found that the carburator was missing. Luckily, a garage was near at hand and the damage was repaired in no time, although it created a deficit of nine dollars in our treasury. We had not yet thrown our jinx. Just as we were about to turn a sharp curve in the road our steering knuckle became exhausted and collapsed. We spun this way and that until we drove right through a (Continued on page 23) [ 21 ]

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THE HUTTLESTONIAN The Spirit of St. Louis A silhouette against the sun’s first glow And severed quite from earthly things below, A Viking youth alone, of stature slight, With morning star to guide him on his flight, As an eagle sheathed in armor upward dashes, The incarnate Spirit of St. Louis flashes. Against the wind he strives with all his might; Courageously he breaks thro’ walls of night. A phantom bird he flys in solitude Above a sea of swirling magnitude. The motors throbbing, music in his ears Has changed the time from hours it seems to years. To close his eyes he knows would seal his doom As searchingly he peers thro’ murky gloom. A slanting shafts of light has rift the space To guide to earth this meteor “Flying Ace” . Whose glory rises on a wind of flame As east to west it blazons forth his name. Helen Martin, ’28 [ 20 ]

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THE HUTTLESTONIAN The Voyage A trip abroad, as in Irving’s time, is quite an undertaking, although it is continually being reduced in danger and expense. Though I did not eat and joke with the captain or climb to the main top on calm days, as did Irving, still to me the ocean voyage was a wonderful experience. In the days when sailing ships were prevalent a brig of 250 ton register was a spacious accommodation; but today the jump is made aboard a 20,000 ton iron monster devouring crude oil, belching out black smoke from its gaping funnels, and leaving a wake of dirty water behind it. This creature plows along through the water regardless of wind and wave making port in 7 or ' 8 days. I should like some time to experience the thrill which Irving mentions when standing upon the deck of his transport; to feel the ship surge forward in the trough of a wave and climb slowly up the slope of the next; to see the white sails bulge like Dutch women’s skirts, vainly trying to outstrip the hull which holds them fast with its stiff arms; and to watch the ship in play creaming the blue water under her bows and tossing the waves against each other in her wake, leaving them confused and troubled slowly to settle their disputes among themselves. There is much, however, to make an ocean trip pleasant. Time has not changed nature. There are still the strange fishes and birds, the ever-changing sunsets and the sea in all its moods and aspects. Then, too, there are on the modern liners many deck games as well as fully equipped gymnasiums which give exercise and sport and help to pass the time. The first day or two was spent in exploring the ship, getting ac¬ quainted with our fellow passengers, and watching many queer creatures around us. Small flying fish would leap and soar 15 feet in the air, the graceful porpoise would pace the ship in schools, a shark showed his huge fin above the water like the periscope of a submarine, and once a whale spouted off to the southward. As we drew further away from land this wild life gradually dis¬ appeared and for a while we were left to entertain ourselves. From the time of our departure the wind and waves had increased steadily in volume and size, and on the fourth day a gale arose. Time and again the ship would drop from the summit of a great wave to plunge her nose into the heart of an oncoming roller sending a cloud of spray aft over her whole length. It was impossible to see any dis¬ tance off as the air was filled with flying spray snatched by the wind [ 22 ]