Fairhaven High School - Huttlestonian Yearbook (Fairhaven, MA)

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THE HUTTLESTONIAN cabin where roses, books and everything that makes the time of a long trip fly by, awaited her. Two years had gone by. Helen had been to New York and back a few times, and again the time had come for her to return, but it was now impossible. Europe was in turmoil, Belgium a living hell. For Helen there was no way of getting out. All communication with the department and home was impossible. She could no longer continue her work. Only one thing was left to do. Help. In this she put her whole heart and soul thanking God now for her knowledge of nursing. Then the Dough Boys arrived. What pleasure it gave her to tell the down-hearted foreigners of the Yankee’s arrival, to see their eyes light up with new hope. They seemed to be new men. They all wanted her. Very few nurses could speak the different languages, write letters for them, to mothers, sisters, sweethearts. She could do more good, cheering the discouraged ones than she could do in any high office. One evening as Helen was walking near a banking of earth on a battlefield, just as the stars were starting to twinkle, and light to fade, she was struck by the appearance of a form, familiar and yet so different, stretched out on the field. His whole attitude was one of attention, he % seemed unconscious of the wounds in his leg. But at the sound of her soft footfall he turned around with a jerk, that brought a look of anguish caused by the pain he felt. Both stood still. Surprise, pleasure, anxiety, all manifested themselves. But before Helen could move Brad had seized her, muffling the cry about to escape, bidding her listen. It was two Germans, both mortally wounded, one evidently an officer, was speaking. Brother and sister listened, every nerve strained. One understood nothing, the other all that was said, and what she understood made her turn pale. It was the next move of the Germans, known only to a few of their officers. She listened till she heard the speaker say in his native tongue. “Well, goodbye old chap. Sorry I won’t be here to see the Frogs smile in the face of death and defeat,” and with these words he turned over giving up his( soul to God. Two hours later Helen left the officers’ quarters, with a light heart, going quickly in search of her brother. The next German move was frustrated and the Hun in the other world saw the French smiling, but smiling in the face of victory. • •••••• Not long after her return home Helen received a letter from the officer to whom she had revealed the German plot saying in poor English: [ 29 ]

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THE HUTTLESTONIAN Persistence I T was one of those bright sunny days in June that makes you feel so energetic and happy. But to Helen Borden it was just another dreary day. Nursing! How she hated it, dreaded every new day. She couldn’t bear to see those pale suffering faces, and know that she could do almost nothing to relieve them. Helen had spent four years in one of the leading women’s colleges. Here she had plugged and studied, coming out one of the first of her class. Languages, yes, that had been her favorite study. Ever since she had read Homer, Hugo and Goethe in English, she had had an unconquer¬ able desire tq read their works in their own languages. At high school she had concentrated on the much lamented Latin with the firm resolution to get the better of it. French came to her with surprising facility. Then came college where she distinguished herself in any language she studied. But, what was the use! Here she was a nurse just because her sisters, mother and grandmother had all been nurses. Dad, himself a physician, would not hear of her being anything else. Only Uncle Charlie, who had translated many books, understood her. So the days wore on, her mind ever occupied with such thoughts, till a letter came from her college dean saying that a large department store in New York was looking for someone, well versed in several European languauges, to travel abroad and buy laces for them. It had come at last. The opportunity to do the work she loved! But the family ? “Never mind what the family says. You’re not going to spoil your life for any family tradition.” “But, Uncle.” “That’s all right, keep mum. In a few days your uncle is taking you for a rest. See if I can’t bring back the apples in your cheeks. While in New York we’ll go see these people.” Six weeks later the family was assembled on the wharf waving good¬ bye. Dad was there, too, trying had to hide his disappointment both at her leaving and at her choice of a different vocation. Her Uncle, with a cheerful smile, Mother and Brad were there to make her! going easier. She had always been Brad’s favorite sister, and he had great faith in her. They had had great times together, sleighing, skating. Well, there was no use looking back at what she would miss, much was ahead of her. Yes, she’d surprise them all, make them proud. So she turned to her [ 28 ]

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THE HUTTLESTONIAN “As life goes on and difficulties arise, do your best to overcome them, for every difficulty overcome is a step on the ladder to success. Remember that there is a God above who will guide us along the right path if we have but courage and faith in Him.” Marie C. Rousseau, ’28 On Losing One’s Freckles T HERE was once a friend of mine who had a very great abundance of freckles. She came to me, one day, and asked what could be done for them. As I am a great authority on freckles (I charge a fee of ten} dollars a call) I suggested letting them stay until they were tired of resting in peace. The next month I received another call from the same person who said she had not lost any of her curse. I gave her a “sure cure” and immediately asked for my fee. “All my freckles are now gone, thanks to you” was part of what was written in the letter of gratitude I shortly received. My feelings were known only to myself, for what I had given her was merely a bar of soap! Jane Stetson, ’29 (Continued from page 26 ) of it, however. When he came home, later on and started to go inside, an odor so atrocious greeted us, that! it was impossible to enter till some fresh air had been allowed to go in. We soon discovered the offender! Snubs had been hunting SKUNKS! We immediately ejected him and it was necessary for him to have a series of baths before he was again admitted into the household. We have never regretted the fact that we took him and gave him a home. He certainly has earned it by the joy he gives and the love he expresses toward every one of us. Ruth Bedford, ’29 [ 30 ]