Farmington High School - Laurel Yearbook (Farmington, ME)

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20 THE LAUREL GHOSTS AND cRoss-woRD PUZZLES HE shrieking wind whistled through the pines as young Sanford hurried home from the card party. It was about half past twelve and the foggy atmosphere promised a shower at any moment. The fact that he had lost most of the games and trumped his partner's ace at the card party plus the toil of the day had led him into a state of depression such as only an amateur card player can attain. As he mounted the long Death Hill and passed the cemetery, he was suddenly aroused by the fact that something was behind him close at his heels. Not daring to look around, he commenced to run homeward. 4' Ha, cried a shrill voice, Hail to thee, young Sanford, winner of a Duplash but loser of the cash. He looked behind but saw nothing except a white streak standing in the road. He dared not look again but ran with might and main till he reached home. He was no longer weary. Sleep was farthest from his intentions or purposes. He entered the small sitting room, turned on the lights and threw himself into a near-by chair to medi- tate upon this ghostly spectacle. Could it be a ghost or a witch? Oh well! it 's only my imagination. Of course, I shall never have a Duplash. That was only my mind. 'Winner of a Duplash but loser of the cash,' that is the least of my worries, was his final remark to himself as he picked up a magazine from the stand. The pages slipped through his fingers but meant nothing to his mind. He could not forget the ghost. On the very last page of the paper he noticed a cross- word puzzle. His eyes gazed steadily at it for an instant, and before he realized it he was solving the puzzle. At another stray glance his eyes met the following adver- tisement: Solve This Puzzle Send twenty-five cents to Duplash Auto Co., Rideout, Ill. By return mail receive Two thousand dollars Cash or New 1925 Duplash The advertisement appealed to his imagi- nation. He instantly thought of the meet- ing with the ghost. Could it be that he was really able to win a Duplash? That was what the spirit prophesiedg that was what the advertisement said. He resolved to send his answer immediately. Six days passed before his reply came. It was a most excellent letter stating that since his choice was a car instead of cash, they were sending it as soon as possible. Soon he re- ceived a cylinder shaped package. What could it be? No address on the wrapper except his own. It must be a sample copy of a magazine. As he tore open that wrap- per his wonder and ,curiosity grew. At last! What should it be but a beautiful picture of a new 1925 Duplash car. Hail to thee, young Sanford!! Winner of a Duplash But loser of the cash. Florence E. Hcwcy. AJ. SALUT D'AMOUR T the low kitchen table sat Mrs. Cote, a little woman with gray hair, and a face that showed lines of sorrow and care. Near her sat a pretty, dusky-haired girl who was her daughter, Louise. Across from them sat Robert Garrett, Lou's sweetheart. The rays of the lamp fell on the radio from which came the sweet, ten- der strains of Salut D'Amour played by a violinist. As the music fell upon the ears of the silent listeners unshed tears came to the mother's eyes and a sad look fell on the thoughtful face of the girl as she sat with her chin cupped in her hands. Bob became sad and as the song ended he quickly left the room. Mrs. Cote soon went to bed and Lou alone heard the announcer say that the concert was given by prisoners in Valley- brook prison. Five years ago Maurice Cote had left his mother and sister to go to the city to earn a living by playing a violin in a theatre orchestra. He had planned to bestow upon his mother and sister, comforts they had never known. The father had died when

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THE LAUREL 19 Michael shook l1is head a little sadly and I knew I could never tell the truth to her. L. Whitcomb, '25. THE TAPS OF DEATH T was a cold, clear night in December. The wind was blowing around my house, rattling blinds, slamming doors, and raising such a howl that I got still further down in my chair, and began to read again. Just then my mother came in and said, Betty, you must go to bedg it is half-past nine now. I knew it was no use to argue, so I got up, laid my book on the table and went out into the hall. The wind was blowing a gale. The blinds rattled more than ever, a door went to with a bang which startled me so that I thought my heart was going to jump into my throat. The stairs were long and winding and although there was a light, there were some dark places which I did not like to pass. I hesitated at the foot of the stairs, getting up my courage. I wanted my mother to go up with me, but did not dare to ask her for fear she would think me a coward, and I was deter- mined not to be an afraid-cat. As I started up, I saw a book lying on the stairs. The name was, The Mystery of the Haunted House. My mother had told me never to read itg this made me Want to all the more so I thought I would take it to bed and read. I held my breath, looked all ways and then ran wildly, glancing behind me as I went, to see if anything had come out of the darkness, for I had a great imagina- tiong but finally I reached my room. Put- ting on the light I made ready for bed. After I got in bed I took the book and started to read it. It seemed to be interest- ing for it was about a mysterious murder and had all sorts of horrible things in it. One part which was rather weird was about a man who rapped on his enemies' windows three times at midnight to warn them of their danger and that he meant to harm them. As I heard my mother coming up the stairs I put the book under my pillow and feigned sleep. She came in, turned off the light and closed the door. I dared not put on the light again, so I laid still and thought about it. I must have fallen asleep for suddenly I was awakened by a loud rap on the window. I sat up in bed, trembling with fright, I wanted to jump up and run, but was para- lyzed with fear. I waited for some timeg my fright al- most left me, when I heard three distant raps on the window. This time I was seized with terrorg who could it be? I thought of the story I had read and slid the bed clothes over my head, not even com-I ing up for air. As I lay there quietly thinking of all the horrible things I had ever heard, there came again, six or seven raps insistently seeming to command me to obey. The wind was still blowing a gale and for the fourth time the raps came one after another in measured time. By this time I was completely covered up and was at the foot of the bed. After a while I heard no more raps, the wind had stopped blowing. In great need of air I popped my head out quickly from the den. I laid awake for an eternity and then finally I fell asleep. ' The next morning as I was going down- stairs, my father and mother came into the hall below talking. What my father said made me jump out of my skin for joy-if such a thing were possible. It was this that he said: I must see about having someone cut that limb off the tree todayg it rapped against the windows until the wind went down. Until then I had forgotten all about the tree which stands just outside my window. L. Barker, '25,

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THE LAUREL 21 Maurice and Louise were small .children and Mrs. Cote had worked hard to support her family. His best friend, Bob Garrett, had gone with him. For a while glad reports came from the boys and always money ac- companied the letters. Then the letters ceased to come and no word was received from Maurice. Two years went by and Bob returned only to tell them that Maurice had disappeared. As Lou sat there by the radio she fell to musing, that violin solo had sounded so much like her brother's playing. She could almost see him as he had stood in the little kitchen, the light falling on his strong features as he played 4' Salut D'Amour. Soon Bob returnedg the same thought had occurred to him. Then for the first time since his return he told Lou what he knew about Maurice. He said that Maurice had had a fine position when he had failed. One night after the theatre when he and Maurice were riding home in a taxi an ac- cident occurred injuring the driver. Leav- ing the man in hands of the police Maurice and Bob went quickly away to avoid publicity. The next morning when Bob went to Maurice's room he found that Maurice had gone and although Bob had hunted for him everywhere he could never find him. An idea came to Lou but she said nothing. Before going to bed she wrote to the broadcasting station asking who the violin player was and why he was in prison. Sometime after, Lou got a letter telling her that the convict was Maurice Cote who had been convicted of killing a taxi driver and had been sentenced for life. Lou took Bob into her conndence and the two began to plan. Bob went to the city and took up the case with a competent lawyer. It was found that the injuries to the head of the taxi driver had made him insane. He had known Maurice's name and had told the officials that Maurice had attacked him making him lose control of the car which caused the accident. The man had died soon afterward. Maurice had been tricked by dishonest lawyers and was sentenced for life. Bob brought up enough old evidence and secured a pardon from the governor and soon Maurice was set free. Some evenings later the same group sat in the humble kitchen only now all the faces were happy for in their midst stood a stalwart young man playing on the violin and charming his listeners by the strains of Salut D'Amour. M. McLea1'y, '25. ll HAPPINESS AT LAST RS. WILLIAMS sighed as she sat hemming pillow cases, in her tiny living room. She was thinking of her past life which she pictured as a weary dream from which she sometimes awoke only to find herself sliding back to the same old routine. As a child she belonged to a large family, which consisted mainly of boys, so she had always been obliged to do a great deal of drudging housework. Later she had be- come a grade teacherg life had seemed quite wonderful then, and she began to en- joy the carefreeness which all youth loves, for the first time in her life. She was married after a very short courtship as it was a case of love at first sight. john was a lawyer on the island where they had settled. His hopes were highg he was bound to succeed, but suc- cess seemed to be slow in coming, and he was learning as everyone does sooner or later that Rome was not built in a day.'7 Barbara arose to see if John and their son, Junior, were in sight yeta The sight of the flaming sunset somewhat revived her spirit as she watched it slowly fade away. The family soon arrived and after the evening meal all three went to bed, there being nothing else to do. lk lk ik Ill il lk In plain view of her bedroom window there was an old neglected cemetery, which seemed to reproach Barbara whenever she