Franklin High School - Voice Yearbook (Franklin, ME)

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'Frm Voice 17 language. But lt wasn't only a song, but a cry for help, and in order to attract our neighbors attention, she had to keep me screaming. Now that my mothen ls dead and I have a little girl five years old, it brings back the memory of that bleak, cold, wintry day with the experience that will never escape my mind. -Harriett Edmunds, '39. WHERE THERE'S A WILL - Rufus Grind1e's chair came down with a bang as an imperious voice cut into his reverie demanding, I must have a. room at once. Darn! Someone would have to come as he was getting to the most interesting pa1t of his book. He looked up and saw an attractive young woman with black eyes, black wavy hair, delicate black brows, and a very determined chin. Well, what are you staring at? she asked. Haven't you ever seen a woman before? Rufus murmured an apology and rang for a bellboy. Girls usually paid some attention to himg but this one was different, she treated him as if he were merely a servant. She sure is at- tractive, said Rufus to himself. The bellboy arrived, picked up her bag and waited for her to follow him from the room. She thought a moment, and then signed her name on the reg- ister. After haughtily asking Rufus about the meals, she commanded the bellboy to show her to her room. After she left, Rufus stood gazing after her in mute admiration. The book, that he had so hated to leave, was entirely for- gotten. Why was she so nervous? said Rufus to himself. What was her great rush? H-m, now, lets see, didn't she say something about a man following her? Yes! I know she did. Well, he won't get her unless she is willing to go with him. Not if Rufus Grindle can help it. Suddenly he pulled the register towa.rd him and looked at her name- June Lowlace, a name belying the character of its owner, and written in a clear firm hand that disputed the feminine delicacy of the name. He was rudely awakened from this pleasant reverie by a harsh voice demand- ing, Let me look at that register. He murmured an apology and looked up at the owner of the voice. He gazed at the man a moment and gave a start of sur- prise. Why, thought Rufus, he must surely be June's father. Yes, his eyes, brows, and chin are identical. Suddenly Rufus remembered himself and asked, Would you like a room, sir? No, I wouldn't. If I had I would have told you so in the first place, was the curt reply. The man then turned and left as abruptly as he had come. Rufus dropped into his chair wondering what it was all about. He was still won- party of dering a.n hour later when a tourists arrived demanding his attention. June did not go into the dining room for her supper until after everyone else had left, and, wonder of wonders, she asked Rufus to join her. His heart was in his eyes as he joyously answered, I shall be delighted to join you as soon as the other clerk comes on duty. Just then the other clerk arrived, and Rufus and June went into the dining room together. Suppose you tell me your story, said Rufus, as they seated themselves. I believe that I can trust you, June re- plied, and so I'll tell you. A month ago I came home from a tour in Europe. I

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16 THE Voice the doctor's veins when the intruder in the closet decided that he would end this cruelty. He tried to step forth into the room, but he remembered that he had drunk from the bottle and was held para- lyzed by its effects. He watched the man give the drug to Morrison by means of a little vial, and then he saw him leave the room. In about two hours he was able to move, and he, too, left the room. Two days later he saw a funeral proces- sion pass by on the street, and he alone knew that a live man was being buried, but dared not tell because of the suspicion it would throw on himself. As for Morri- son, probably he still lives in his death -cell waiting for that day far away when he shall die and end forever his worldly 'troubles -Gerald Wilbur, '38. THE INTRUDER 0NE day, when I was about five years old, a strange and terrifying incident, which I will never forget, came to my mother and me. My mother and I had been shopping, we came home about 6 o'c1ock in the eve- ning of a bleak wintry day. Dale, father won't be home to dinner tonight, so we will have to eat alone, and you must go to bed directly after dinner, said mother. After dinner, mother took me into my bedroom and helped me undress. Just one teeny-weeny story before I go to sleep? I said. Well, it will have to be a short one, re- plied mother, settling herself comfortably beside me on the bed, while I prepared myself to listen to her story. Suddenly, I felt my mother stifren. I looked at her inquiringly. Her face had a frightened expression, and her eyes had grown large with fear. She kept staring at something - something apparently on the floor. My eyes followed here. Mother, I began. But her hand closed over my mouth. Instead of telling me a story, she slapped me hard and began to sing loudly in Roumanian. Go to sleep. you bad girl, she snapped at meg then .S-ang more loudly than ever in Roumanian while I cried harder. What makes her act so strang1y? 1 wondered. But I was too young to reason. Then she pinched me-not too hard-but a defmite pinch. Loudly I screamed in anger, and higher rose her voice in the song. Amidst all the tumult, the doorbell rang. Mother kept on singing. Again the bell rang lnsistently. Mother called, Just a minute! Then, with shaking arms, she grabbed me closed and tried to walk slowly-I say tried to walk, for I sensed that she wanted to run, not walk. I felt, as she held me, that she was shaking with fear-of what, I didn't know. With an ef- fort she managed to open the door, and there stood our next door neighbor with a policeman at her side. There's a burglar under the bed! mother screamed in Roumanian, and col- lapsed. After the thief was led away and mother had been praised for her bravery and cleverness in deceiving the burglar, she .said to me, Forgive me, honey, for pinch- ing youg but it was the only way. Mother explained that after she saw the burglar's feet under the bed, she figured the only way to keep him there was to pretend she was singing me to sleep. She knew that our next door neighbor under- stood Roumanian, and so she sang in that

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18 THE VOICE have been there three years and, as I am twenty-three and was my own boss over there, I feel that I am perfectly able to take care of myself. Father is grouchy and ve.y domineering. I think that I could have borne it if he had been pleas- ant, but he wasn't. I have promised to marry a, fellow I have known all my life. He is very wealthy, three years my junior and can be easily ruled. He thinks that he loves meg and by marrying him, I shall escape my father's domineering spirit and shall be able to do as I please, My father is opposed to my marriage with Percival. We are going to meet here to- morrow and be married at once. I told father today, and be forbade me to even leave my room. He said that he would give the servants orders to keep me there. I went to my room and got my bag, which I had packed before I told father. Then I ran down the servants' stairs and out their entrance. Fate was against me, beca.use father saw me when he was giving the servants orders. He started in pursuit, and I Went into a de- partment store, eluding him by going out the bacl: entrance. And .so here I am. Great Scott! ex-claimed Rufus. Did you :ay your father was looking for you? Why, that must have been he here shortly after you arrived. He seemed very curt and looked at the register as if he would cat it up. June turned pale as she heard these wo1:'s. Father must have heard Percival and I talking about my staying here. As she and Rufus were getting up from the table, the door opened and admitted Mr. Lovelace. June whispered, That's my father. Are you married? Rufus replied negatively, and then Mr. Lovelace spoke: Well, young lady, what do you mean by disobeying my orders Come home at once. 'fFather, you always said that a woman's place is with her husbandg so I shall stay with mine. May I present Rufus Grindle, your new son? Mr. Lovelace gasped in surprise, but quickly recovered himself and heartily congratulated them both, saying, I only tried to keep Portia from marrying that young infant because I knew they would not be happy. Portia? said Rufus, I thought her name was June. I only took that name, said June, in hopes that father would not find me. My real name is Portia Bruce. I comprehend that you do not need any assistance to plan a honeymoon, so I will go to my office, said Mr. Bruce, with mock solemnity as he left them. As the door closed behind him, Rufus crushed Portia's hat on her head, grabbed her aim, and said, We have just time to reach the license bureau before it closesg and, if you won't go, you'l1 find that I shall be more domineering than your father. Are you going? He was pushing her ahead of him all the timeg and what could a poor girl do against a led-headed, blue-eyed, football giant, two years her senior? -Hazel Wilbur, '38, NEW-FOUND HAPPINESS IT has been said that gossip does more harm than a war. In New England this is very true, dating back to the Puritans. If a person does something uncommon, there is always someone to start a story about it. Sometimes this causes sensi- tive people to seclude themselves and seem very odd. Such a person was Ellen Pratt who, at thirty-five, was considered a queer old