Farmington High School - Laurel Yearbook (Farmington, ME)

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THE LAUREL 19 The children looked at each other in frightened wonder, and some began to cryg suddenly all was dark and away somewhere in the distance, the enchanting music was heard again. Stumbling along, the children ran for- wardg suddenly they came out of the dark- ness into a burst of golden sunlight. As their eyes became more accustomed to the bright light, they saw that they were in a beautiful valley. Many were the exclamations of delight, for before them on the right, was a grassy meadow 3 there with his many colored coat and silver pipe, stood the Pied Piper, while lo, on the ground was a delicious fruit and as they stooped to get it, all memory of Hamelin vanished, and the Pied Piper, with his silver pipe playing the enchanting music again led them through the valley of Eter- nal Happiness. Some of the Peasant folk today, as they climb over the rugged mountain, say that they can hear the sound of the silver pipe and the laughter of the children of Hame- lin as they dance in the valley of Eternal Happiness. Madam H ogan-, '29. 1.3. THE DESPISED LUCRE AMES ROBINSON, a retired railroad magnate, was a self-made man and be- ing such had many of the foibles that are likely to go hand in hand with self-attain- ment. His views on nearly everything were influenced by iinancial interests. He had made a fortune and because of this had attained a prominent place in his com- munity. He fully realized that his success in Wall street had been the reason for his prominence and influence so the attitude he took on the value of money can be little wondered at. Jack, James Robinson's son, however, was an altogether different type. He had recently graduated from law school and his ideals and ambitions were not limited merely to making money. He was more catholic in his views than was his -father and he ardently longed for a reform in politics. He realized that it would be a difficult task to start a new regime in politics in either the state or city for the political bosses were in supreme control in both branches. Jack was undaunted, how- ever, by any of the past successes attained by crooked politicians and determined to take an unequivocal stand for honesty in politics. With these fine ideals as a criterion to go by Jack resolved to run for the city council. He refused the aid of his father not be- cause of any quarrel but because he ab- horred the idea of being elected by means of an excessive amount of money. Jack was badly defeated in the election and had to look around for a job. The next three years were ones of poverty. The old maxim that opportunity knocks only once may hold true for Jack did not even hear a tap. His pride kept him from going back home and receiving his father's aid. His political dreams seemed wholly destroyed. He finally became so despondent that he resolved to go back home and admit that he needed money to advance to a prominent position. When all hope had been despaired of he was offered a position as an editorial writer for the New York Sun. Distasteful as this work was, it offered him a chance to live on hi-s own resources, a thing he gladly welcomed. A scurrilous attack by one of the Tam- many leaders on a political reform brought forth a reply from Jack. This brought him into prominence. Soon after this he was urged to run for the city council. He obtained as his campaign manager a friend of his father and after a hectic cam- paign Jack was elected to the council. He naturally was elated over his success and he called on his father to tell him that he had proved money was not essential for advancement. james Robinson, did not say anything to

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18 THE LAUREL ' As the evening progressed Harold be- came aware that he was not a very popular guest. His plan was working to perfection. A gushing young miss waltzed up to him. V I 'm so glad you can be here in Chicago, Mr. Warren, isn't it nice? - Yes, it is. A perfectly wonderful day today, wasn't it, Mr. Warren, just perfect for ten- nis? Yes, it must have been. Oh! do you like tennis, I just love it? No, I don't care for it. It was so warm this afternoon that we girls just had to go in bathing. I just love to bathe in the sea. Don't you just adore the big waves? And so forth and so on until the human talking machine moved away, provoked by the clumbness and in- difference of what appeared to be good prospect. An unexpected turn of affairs threatened to ruin Harold's near triumph. The daugh- ter of the hostess approached and began to talk. Not at all unusual, but the strange thing about it was, she talked sense. Har- old was stunned and well he might be. After putting her to a severe test, Harold decided that he had discovered a rare specimen. Now Harold undergoes all the trials and tribulations of a social evening if his rare specimen is present. Such is the power of that one rare speci- men against all the inliuence of others. Would that these specimen were not rare. E. S., '27. 1.1 WATCHING A FELLOW STUDENT WAS most studiously absorbed in the deep mysteries of geometry, when my neighbor attracted my unwilling attention. He was evidently tracing a map, judging by the movements he was going through, and the markings which I perceived on his thin paper. He was sitting intently for- ward, with his face about four inches from his desk, and a small stub pencil clasped so very tightly in his hand, while he bore on with such fervor that I verily believe the imprints are left on the desk. Meantime, his mouth went through such contortions and grimaces, that they exceeded even the movements of an agile monkey. With a quick jab and gesture he suddenly straight- ened up, relaxed with his elbow on the desk, his chin cupped in his hand, and gazed longingly ont at the falling snow. I will not try to analyze his thoughts. They could not have been very pleasant, for after a minute of gazing out to the broad open spaces, he turned, and with a deep sigh and a most pathetic look in his eyes, as if the world or some pedagogue was treating him altogether too badly, resumed his toil. He did not put so much zeal behind his move- ments this time. His mouth was set with the most determined air, as if he would make his map a perfect model or die in the effort. Now and then he nervously pushed back a lock of persistent hair. A teacher passed near his desk. He looked up with a start, and a frown settled on his features. He moved his map, shifted his body to an easier posture, and made his small pencil go as if his very life depended on his speed. Soon he fell back, exhausted from his strenuous labor, and for a few moments looked dreamily at the falling snow. With another sigh he turned to his model map, intently studying it, and then bent to trac- ing. In this way the period was spent, and when the last bell rang, my worthy neigh- bor, with a final gesture and admiring glance, tucked his completed map away in a book. As for me, my neglected geometry was undone. Ruby Wagner, '28. .Ll Sequel to Pied Piper of Hamelin or WHAT HAPPENED ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE DOOR S the massive iron door closed on the backs of the children of Hamelin the music suddenly stopped and the Pied Piper disappeared.

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20 THE LAUREL him but in his desk he had a letter and a bill. The letter was from the editor of the New York Sun telling him how well his son was doing and thanking him for rec- ommending such a splendid writer. The bill amounted to twenty thousand and was sent to him by Iack's campaign manager. He did not tell jack about this and gladly paid the bill but his attitude on the value of money remained unchanged. Richard Mallett, '26, xl AMERICA FIRST IN SLANG T was with great pleasure that I sat be- fore the glowing and open fire one eve- ning last week. Such pleasure draws forth its origin from that pleasant tenseness of expectancy. I was awaiting an evening visit from my uncle who was a keen partici- pant in discussion upon matters of interest. Moreover, these discussions were usually bound up in an interesting incident which had sometime or other taken place in his experience. Soon he knocked at my door and we met with a sincere heartiness, for a certain undercurrent of understanding had always held us in mutual bonds which were un- usual. After having inquired as to each other's health and that of our.dear friends, and after bantering had fallen for a more serious course of conversation, my uncle fell into that path of discourse which is, strangely enough, always vitally concerned with thousands of our fellow-men, whether it be criticism or praise. I am ready, said he, to steadfastly uphold the point, that the use of slang has incredibly diminished within the last thirty years. His notice of my rising interest in what he might say caused him to resume his argument after a short meditation. This diminishment of the use of slang has truly been marvelous. Of course, slang is used in a small degree today, but I am greatly convinced that it does not in, any way afford anything detrimental to the public at present, but in a truer sense, it is a well used and discreet manner of en- livening our speech. Furthermore, as an illustration of my argument, I'll give you a sample of the old kind of slang. I-Ie explained that he once went to an old hashery with his father and he aptly gave the following demonstration of slang. Ham and eggs, my uncle has ordered. One Swifts' premium and hen fruit, heave 'em high, yelled the waiter. Roast beeff' my uncles' father ordered. One Texas citizen in the pan, roared the waiter. ' Potatoes, was the next order. Spuds, chorused the waiter. A piece of custard, followed as the next. Slab of custard, sang the waiter.- Blueberry for me, my uncle had said. One bloob for the boob, howled the waiter thru the hall. And this, my uncle concluded, is a fair sample of the slang that is past, thank goodness ! Here I interceded and put forth my side of the argument. Uncle, I said, from what you have just said, I am glad to learn one thing and it is this. I am glad to learn that slang isn't an invention of my generation, but I am greatly ashamed to think that it has been perfected by my age of the race. It is indeed so, however, and please do let me read you this bit of sport news from yes- terday's paper. I found the paper and began reading the following, Baseball is still making day wages. Bum ginks are hooking fifty thous- and berries per year for just sittin' the bench. The umps are sure the pick of the nut factories. Baseball ain't what it used to be when Christy Mathewson used his bean. Today newspaper dope leads the fans into a hope for a wallop out of the lot. In the old days Ruddy Callahan would come up in the ninth, grabbin' the old club with both hooks and face the old pan. Deasie Sullivan would wind up like a taxi-man cranking a cold flivver. Then Ruddy would