Farmington High School - Laurel Yearbook (Farmington, ME)

Page 32 text:

28 THE LAUREL So Father Jove has sent me down To guard good folk from this bad clown That changes them into pigs and cows Or rats or bears or wee bow-wows. And now I must hasten for I am so good, To guide her fair footsteps through the wood. Clinter Comus with his crew singing and danc- ins? Song of Comus: Bow-wow-wow! Wee! Wee! Wee! We are on our nightly spree. Cats and dogs and little pigs Now we sing and dance our jigs. Comus : With my gigantic eyes and my gigantic size I 'll tell the stupid world that I am very wise, Standing with my marvelous poise, I hear a little noise, 'Tis a human being: which are my exclusive toys. But hist it is a footstep light NVho can be coming here tonight? Quick! my lads behind these trees, Would you were in the seven seas. CEnter the lady--a flapperj The Lady: My brothers are gone, what shall I do? I've lost my compact, my lipstick too, My face is white: I look like a ghost: My rouge is what I am missing the most. Enter Comus: Oh! fair young damsel, are you led astray? The night is fallingg now ends the day. Lady sings: Oh! now good friend, my saviour true, It really is so kind of you. Won't you harbor me safe and warm Until the morn begins to dawn? I 've lost my brothers in this dark lair, Perhaps you 've seen those youths so fair. Comus: No, winsome maid, I've seen them not For the day is warm and walking is hot, But if you are lost and if you are free I 'll find you shelter in a house in the lea. Lady sings: But what of my face and what of my hair, I'm perfectly sure there 's no curl there. I'm nervous, so nervous, and worried and blue, I 'm hungry and thirsty and so tired too, So come, let us go to a house as you say Where I can get shelter until dawn of the day. CExit both! CEnter Brothers! First Brother speaks: Where, Oh! where has our dear sister gone, I 'm worried, so worried: I 'm pale and wan. Second Brother: Our sister will be safe I'm sure, She is so good and sweet and pure. Let us raise our voices in proud acclaim To bring her back here safe and sane. Song: Once we had a sister fair But she went away And now we have no sister So we are going to bray- Sister, Sister, where are you? Oh! Where can you be! Maids like you are but a few So pray come back to me. Enter Attendant Spirit: Ho there! To the rescue quick! That wicked Comus has worked a trick, Your sister good, is in his power, Take-n by magic to his bower. Rush right in and break the glass But grab the wand and do it fast. SCENE II A beautiful palace. Comus' animals are seated about the room. The lady is seated on a throne with Comus standing nearby holding, toward her, a glass of punch. Comus: Song: Drink! lady, drink! It 's fresh from the sink! It will cause the flush to come On those cheeks that look like gum. Lady: Nay, monster, nay. I would rather eat hay. Comus Ctrying againj : Come, gay tlapper, staid and sure, Sweet and carefree and demure, All in a dress of scantiest mien, Thou art a buttercup so serene. Come and taste the brimming cup Then on golden plates we 'll sup. Lady: Here are my brothers, now you whelp Throw up your hands and call for help. Brothers rush in: Begone, base idler, Let not your face disgrace this scene: Depart, you are not tit to be seen, For now we 've come to save our sister, We cannot say how much we 've missed her. Spirit: Now, Comus, you have driven away But you have not gained his sceptred sway, For his waving wand you did not seize, Now your fair sister will have to freeze. But wait, I hear a singing voice approach, 'Tis Sabrina, riding on a roach. Song: Come, Sabrina, do I pray, We need you here, dear fairy fay. Oh pretty Sabrina, fair and sweet, Come near and Lady Alice meet. For she is stuck right in her chair And just cannot get out of there. Come and wave your fairy wand, Come o'er dwindling brook and pond. Come and set this maiden free And praises all we 'll sing to thee- ' Enter Sabrina: I have flown lightly o'er vale and hill But was delayed by one slight spill, That 's the reason for muddy locks Where I fell on slimy rocks. CShe pats lady on the head three times which sets her free!

Page 31 text:

THE LAUREL 27 it does not matter. - Please pass the olives. - Yes, I'd like some cocoa. - Who made this salad? - This ice cream is good. - Sh! Mr. Brown is go- ing to speak. . SCENE VI Do you think what Mr. Brown said was true? - You know the boys gave him their ideas. - I'll bet anything that that red-headed fellow was the one to think up all those classes into which girls are divided, or maybe he read it some- where. - I wonder where we belong, with the wall flowers, ilappers, snobs or with the old fashioned girls, and gold dig- gers. - Say wouldn't they be surprised to know that we made our own clothes, helped our mothers, took care of our kid brothers and sisters, and earned our own spending money a good part of the time. They made a mistake, the same that most people are making. - What? Why it is so simple it's laughable. The fact is we are 'just girls,' as our mothers were be- fore us and our daughters will be in the future. - Did he call Lake Avenue? I must go now. Good-night, see you all tomorrow. H M axine C lark, '2 5. TY THE REASON FOR OUR LAST I-:ARTHQUAKE BOUT two centuries ago the town of Farmington was founded and settled by Job Farmington. Job had always wished to have his funeral in a luxurious and sedate manner. He wanted to have a regular hearse, hacks drawn by beautiful black horses and an awesome ceremony. After several years as a successful leader and Indian fighter, Job and a party of friends were hunting far north from Farm- ington, near the present big lakes of Maine. The result was, although Farmington lived in luxury and civilization, that a party of Indian braves, savage and hostile, fell upon Job's party and scalped him and several of his men. The survivers of the party could not, of course, take the corpses back home and give them a decent burial. When the men came back to Farming- ton they told of 1ob's last words. Evidently Job, even when his skull was crushed and his face turned to an ashen hue, had gasped and shrieked out that he would have that funeral procession. Thus, every two centuries Job's ghost rushes down from the Northern woods with its slain companions' ghosts as attendants, gains possession of the village hearse and in this, drawn by a ghoulish team com- posed of the ghosts of two of Iob's favor- ite black chargers, which he rode in his Indian battles, they rumble, sweep and roar along the street of Farmington, causing people to sit up with dreadful starts in bed, and causing dishes, chimneys, houses, yes, everything to rattle and shake. This statement is verified by the dis- covery of some very old papers in my grandfather's garret, written by the old and wise village parson of that time, Jona- than Settledown, telling this self-same story. This discovery fevidently forgot- ten during the long period of two centu- riesj has set the Farmington scientists agog and proved their long and complicated theories wrong. We should be glad, how- ever, that Job visits us only once in every two centuries! Owen W. Gilman, ,27. TT coMUs A LA GAIETE CAST or CHARACTERS Star, the Attendant Spirit.. .... Elmer Frederic Comus ........................ Holmes Wagner The Lady ................ .... A lice Stevens First Brother ....... .... R onald Goding Second Brother ................ Richard Mallett Sabrina, the Nymph ............. Bertha Martin The Scenery-Robbins SCENE I-A Dark Forest The Attendant Spirit: I-Iist! I come from far away Where the little angels play. Here I come flying o'er meadow and hill, O'er the restless world while all is still. My lady is coming over the dale And to protect her I never will fail. For Comus you know, that wild young lad. It pains me so: he is so bad, Is quite a menace to this wood,

Page 33 text:

THE Spirit: Thanks, Sabrina, your charms just litg In a mud puddle, dear, may you never sit. Come, maiden, fair and sweet, Come and dance to every beat, For I must go and leave you now To the woods of pine and balsam bow Where the other spirits dwell And fairies dance o'er hill and dell, There under sunny skies and golden moons The water nymph his love song croons And everyone is gay and free And sweet birds sing in every tree. V. Mills, L. Whitcomb, '26. ll How 1 BECAME HUMAN WAS only a poor struggling author. My works were masterpieces of art, only the editors did not seem to realize it which showed their ignorance. My story on, The Gastro-vascular Sys- tem of the Coelenterata of the Etheopian Realms, was turned down by six editors who said, No one could ever understand this unless they were very learned Pro- fessors of Etymology and could also un- derstand every long word ever used in English or Latin. So you see, many pieces of wonderful literature are turned down simply because people who examine them are not well educated. But then, we authors must expect such treatmentg were not Dickens and Poe treated thus? I must tell you something very tragic. A short time ago I wrote a very exciting article on the Coleaptera and Dermistids, Their Life Cycles. This should interest and be read by every school boy and girl for recreation, as it is much more educa- tional and entertaining than ordinary litera- ture. As I was saying, something very tragic happened. I sent this story on Coleapters, etc., to the Editor of the Laurel. The next week I got a reply which said, Not worth return postage. This was almost the last straw. I nearly decided to cut my hair, throw away my black bow tie and become a street cleaner, garbage collector or anything that was human. But no, I could not leave my LAUREL 29 chosen profession. It was what I was cut out for and I could never forsake it. After much thought on the subject I had an idea. I would see the Editor and with my personal attractiveness influence him to accept my story. I washed a soft collar and called up the Laurel Board office and found they would see me at five o'clock. At half past four I started on my mission. My mind was so occupied that I did not notice the heavy afternoon tranic as I walked up Broadway. I was pushed and jammed by the after theater crowds but my mind was too taken up with my high aspira- tions to notice mere jostling crowds and whizzing automobiles. At last I arrived at the Laurel Board otiice and was ushered into the presence of the Business Manager. I found her seated at her desk amid a confusion of paint brushes and paste pots. Get out of here, she yelled as she hurled a gob of bright green paint at me. As I left the room, more or less ornamented by my new com- plexion, I collided with a lazy looking indi- vidual in a muffler who informed me that he was the Literary Editor. I told him what he. had said about my masterpiece at which he replied in a cross voice, Why, how do you expect to get a story in the Laurel? Don't you know that the Laurel uses only the works of noted authors such as William Bryant, William Shakespeare and William er-er Mills! He looked so cross that without a word I turned and walked out of the room. Now I knew. I cut my hair, threw away my bow tie and became a street cleaner who is at least human. So now I carefully ply my trade while dodging jostling crowds and automobiles. ' This is my sad tale and here it ends be- cause I have stopped writing stories for- ever. But I shall always think as Nero did, What a great artist dies in me. Clarice Lufkin, '28,