Fairhaven High School - Huttlestonian Yearbook (Fairhaven, MA)

Page 8 text:

The Wind T he wind Blows about the house Bends the bushes Sways the trees— The wind Rattles the windows Comes in Under the door Sets the shutters to creaking — When I am out The wind Tousles my hair Whips my jacket And my skirt And sways me on my feet— I have to fight against it Push forward Struggle It challenges me Makes my blood tingle It makes me feel alive And glad that I am— My eyes are clear I take on a new self Forget care and worry Forget what troubled me Yesterday— That is gone It is today— And today I love the wind. Isabel Tuell, ’37

Page 7 text:

EDITORIAL STAFF Editor-in-chief Janice Eldredge Associate Editors Carl Blechinger Priscilla Place Reportorial Editors Harold Woodcock Assistant Jean McKoan i Business Manager Isabel Tuell Exchange Editor Cecelia Barnes Faculty Adviser Margaret Siebert Advertising Manager Shirley Kanter Assistants Richard Carpenter Roberta Howland William Wingate Art Editor Charles Arnold

Page 9 text:

The Will of the Almighty broadside from His Majesty’s ship, Storm Bird”, roared like the mighty thunder, as she slowly swung from her anchorage into the open stream. Her yard arms were black with hurrying sailors, who cast the billowing canvas to the gentle nor’west breeze; another broadside burst forth missing its target — the trim little schooner, Venture” — on all sides. The captain of the last mentioned vessel, tall, straight, with iron grey locks, stood as a startling contrast to the mean, slouching, little man in command of the mighty frigate. However, as is not often the case, the striking master of the little schooner was running from the law, which was imper¬ sonated by the mean little man. Yet another broadside sent its screaming missels at the fleeing Venture”, but its impassive master neither broke his stride nor missed a puff at his pipe as he paced the quarter¬ deck, eyeing first his bulging, then the pursuing ship, and last, but not with the least concern, the distant horizon. They sailed a westward course, while far to windward in the gathering gloom a storm cloud could be discerned. This cloud, at first, had little significance, but soon it assumed menacing proportions; nevertheless, no one on either ship realized how vitally this same cloud would affect both vessels. So much for the physical position of the parties con¬ cerned. Now for the conditions which led these two ships to be flying westward, one pursued, the other pursuing. The mission of the frigate was obvious. She was enforcing the laws of His Majesty, the King, but the case of the Venture” was not so clear. She was one of those little — shall we say traders — who do such a flourishing business shipping the products of the West Indies through the boop-bales of His Majesty’s laws of trade. Captain Sampson, master of the little ship in this dangerous profession, was doing nothing which his conscience deemed to be wrong. What could the King know of the needs of this Yankee trader?