Farmington High School - Laurel Yearbook (Farmington, ME)

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'k LAUREL if A were passed along the pew, accompanied by stifled giggles. As soon as the pew began to vibrate, ma would give the'nearest of us a poke with her elbow. This was always a mistake. For the pokes Hew down the length of the pew, each with renewed vigor and more outbursts of snickering. Nearing the end of the sermon my father's head would begin to nod. Ma's elbow would then go to work again, this time on dad. This always brought forth spasms of coughing from him and uncontrolled laughter from us. The choir would then focus cold stares upon us. fl have always felt that they took the wrong attitude since we supported them most vigor- ously in the hymn singingj At last the final hymn was sung and we stood stiff as pokers while the benediction was given. Perhaps at this point the reader may ask, Why, pray tell, did your mother ever take you? ,I That is a hard question to answer. Maybe she thought through constant church attendance we would, of necessity, absorb some religious education. Or maybe she thought we could cause less trouble in church with her than at home alone. I. Austin '44. ,111-1 Assignment: Theme of reminiscence sug- gested by Bellamy Partridge's Many Happy Return: in the SCHOLASTIC. FOURTH OF IULY THE WRIGHT WAY NE of the few holidays all our family celebrates together is Fourth of Iuly. Although we celebrate birthdays, Thanksgiv- ings, and Christmases we all look forward to the glorious Fourth. During the first of Iune my brother and I prepare our order for fireworks. Last year I had thirteen firecrackers saved from the year before, which I was going to set off, but when I lit a match to all of them, none of them went bang . The week before is usually a busy week for every one. The fireworks have to be examined, although one of our rules is that no firecrackers may be set off before the Fourth. This rule has been kept since I was large enough to light a match. There is at least one trip to Farmington to get the needed supplies. We have, as a rule, two big pickles, watermelons to most people. These have been so called since I was about four years old. Once when my father came out of a store with a watermelon under his arm, I was sitting in the back seat of our car taking in all of the surroundings as it was a rare occasion to go to Farmington. When I saw him, I shouted and said, Oh, Daddy! What a big pickle! Another custom is ordering a crate of bananas, which last about three days if they are not well hidden. My brother has been known to sit down and eat twenty-one of them in a row. He now muses on the good old days. The night before the Fourth we close our house and go to camp for the first time in the year to stay over night. Louis and I used to stay up to our grandmother's and herald the Fourth in with appropriate doings, but since he has become twitterpatted and his Utwitterpatteri' spends the Fourth with us, he now celebrates a little differently. morning we have a breakfast. Then we Upon waking in the dip in the pond before play horseshoes, set off a few firecrackers, if we are lucky enough to have any, go for a boat ride or do almost anything to pass away the time till dinner. For dinner we have chicken with all the fixings, for dessert we have pie, ice cream and cake and last of all one of the big pickles . After the aspirins and sodamints have been passed around, we all run for a place to lie down. However, a couple of hours later we are up and at it again. Our friends have arrived by now, as well as our grandparents. My father and grandfather go to look at some lumber, and the younger generation as well as a few enjoying their second ,childhood prepare to take their annual trip around the pond. The cameras, which are always snapped at the wrong time, are dropped and we go racing off leaving our grandparents and a few laggers to keep camp. In an hour or two we come streaming back and don our bathing suits and take our big swim for the day. We then Finish taking pictures and also what is left of the five pounds of candy and forty pounds of bananas. During

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'A' LAUREL 'lr All men don't grow in wisdom as they grow in years, do they? If they do, what do they Fight wars for? Wars donit settle anything. Even a pup knows that. Iive had a war on for four days with the dog third house down over a bone he dug out of my front lawn. I-Ie got the bone but we ain't settled anything yet. Now that dog and I will be mortal enemies from this day forward, and everything started from that insignificant little bone. Isn't that sensible? I shouldnit wonder if dogs and men were more like each other than either of 'em realize. Well, maybe if I eat Red Heart Dog food, and get plenty of sleep, they'll let me join the Army when I grow up. Bet I could show those Sons of the Rising Sun a thing or two. That little yellow and white ball of Huff they call the kitten has just jumped up in my chair and I've got to bump her off, so I guess I'd better be about it. S0 long, God, look out for everybody, and take special care of Mr. Stan. I-Ie's going into the Navy next week and He's going to need your help. QHere comes that darn cat again.j Amen. V. Pinkham '43, Assignment: Original myth I . APOLLO AND ARBUTISIA SMALL beautiful nymph named Arbu- tisia lived in the heart of a large forest and seldom wandered away from her home. Hunting had made her lithe and softly tanned by the sun's bright rays that glimmered down from Apollo's chariot through the thick foliage. One day, however, Arbutisia ventured from her wooded retreat into the open. Apollo had already begun his day's work and as the nymph raised her deep blue eyes, the shade of every wooded poolls depths, she was stunned by the beauty of the Sun God. All day she watched Apollo and when Diana started her journey across the heavens, Arbutisia set out in search of Apollo. Finally she came to his palace. Her lithe form entered unbidden into the dazzling brightness of his palace, so she kept close to the ground, concealing herself under low-growing bushes and fallen leaves. For a week she watched Apollo come and go, never disclosing her presence. One day as Apollo came back from his work, Arbutisia made herself known. She was very small beside his strong body and her warm skin turned to the pinkish hue of bashfulness. But Apollo was weary at the moment so he cast Arbutisia aside. Undismayed she trailed him all night and just before morning, he wratlifully turned on her, For the rest of your life, you shall trail along as you have been doing, hiding under low bushes and leaves, he declared. Then the god's wrath melted, but unable to undo his moment of anger, he kindly added, But people will search for you and you shall retain your beauty each year when the snow melts and the trees bloom. Arbutisia smiled and then she began to shrink. Her arms and legs grew tiny and brown, leaves began to sprout, and from each hair in her head, clusters of flowers bloomed the same shade of her pink skin. So every year Arbutisia, whom we know as Arbutus, is found under the brown leaves in the month of May. I. Stewart 544. 'A myth is an account of the deeds of a god or super- natural being. It serves to explain some practice, insti- tution, or belief, relates to some supposed historical event: or accounts for some natural phenomenon. Herzberg's Myths. Assignment: Theme of reminiscence sug- gested by Bellamy Partridge,s Big Family. EVERY SUNDAY MORNING T always began around nine o'clock every Sunday morning. Getting six children ready for church was no small job. By the time one was ready, the other five had disap- peared. Long after the final bells had tolled we piled into the car. Ma, pushing back wisps of hair from her Hushed face, sternly warned us to keep still and sit still in church. Being thus late, we always had to march down the aisle during the opening hymn to I-ind a vacant pew. Ma would try to maneuver us into the pew so that she and dad could sit between the most likely trouble makers, but we usually succeeded in evading her and grimly she took her place on the end. For the first fifteen minutes our pew was comparatively quiet. Then someone always produced a pencil and paper. A look of de- feat would strike mother as she saw it, but all her head-shaking was in vain. Many notes

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'A' LAUREL 'A' this time the company leaves and we prepare for supper if we are able. After supper we move out on the porch and watch the moon on the water while we enjoy telling jokes and stories. lust before we go to bed a swim is in order. We come in and as my father says, climb the winding stairs. The Htwitterpated come stringing up later at the the end of a perfect day. To others this may not mean much, but to me it means everything. It proves to me that we are fighting for something we cannot enjoy unless we have Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness . Law. Wright '44. Assignment: Original fable 2 THE NEGLECTED OVERSHOES H OW can you stand up under this strain? My back is growing limper and limper every second, commented Luke Overshoe to his twin brother Duke. These two over-sized black brothers were standing below the coat evening. Their owner rack one cold wintry had decided he didn't need them. Well, no one else will watch out for me, myself to be on guard so l've taken it upon every minute. This is such a dangerous place out, your toes will be that, unless you look stepped on and your neck nearly broken, was Duke's defiant answer. Agreed. Today's youth is so careless. Here, too, is an example of unwillingness to conserve war materials. I wonder-can we make him realize our worth? spoke Luke ponderingly. I think so, Lu. Let's go for a stroll,', sug- gested Duke. When he Finds us, I'll bet he will appreciate us moref' he chuckled. The next day and for two more days the boy frantically looked-at home in the corner, in the automobile, and in the school basement. At last he found them in a dust-covered shoe box in a corner near the furnace, Aha! he thought to himself. Thought you could run away, didn't you? Any overshoes that can teach me to care for my belongings the way you have done, deserve the privilege of going home every night. It isn't every day I can find as smart a pair of overshoes to keep up with me. I would not lose you for a dozen new pairsf' On went the overshoes. Duke and Luke just chuckled at their wisdom. Mortar.: In a pinch a good use of our wits may help us out. L. Wave '43. A fable is a short, fictitious narrative in which the characters are generally animals or inanimate things, though they are represented as speaking and acting like human beings. It is devised to convey simply and vividly a useful lesson in proper conduct. Tanner's Correct English. Assignment: Original fable, THE PEN AND THE PENCIL PHE scrubby old pen was fast nearing the scrap pile. As he lay on the table a bright young pencil was placed beside him on a writing tablet. Now the two clans of Pens and the Pencils are bitter rivals, so you see why the pencil re- joiced to have a chance to whack the poor old pen. But this time he had little sympathy and only wagged his tongue at the old pen for he was very conceited. The pencil liked to brag to people of his highly varnished finish and the soft lead that would write so easily. You're the laziest pen I have ever seen, he taunted. No answer. The pencil spoke again, Look at you! You could use a new point. You have a broken cap. The ink leaks. Still there was no answer from the pen. This made the pencil really angry. Why, he flared, you aren't even good enough for the Scrap Drive! ', The pen looked up slowly and spoke in his quietest manner. Be calm, friend pencil. You'll be in the same condition soon. At this remark the pencil laughed. He laughed for quite some time over what the pen had said. The weeks passed on. The old scrubby pen was donated to the Scrap Drive, while the pen- cil, worked to a last desperate point, was merely tossed into the waste basket. MORAL: He laughs best who laughs last. I. Waugh '43.