Freeport High School - Clarion Yearbook (Freeport, ME)

 - Class of 1952

Page 30 of 68

 

Freeport High School - Clarion Yearbook (Freeport, ME) online collection, 1952 Edition, Page 30 of 68
Page 30 of 68



Freeport High School - Clarion Yearbook (Freeport, ME) online collection, 1952 Edition, Page 29
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Page 30 text:

The Hole One day in the spring of the year, I thought I'd go for a walk. It was a very warm day, the sun was really in its glory. Suddenly I felt myself dropping. I was going down, down, down, and then some. Finally I stopped, I had landed on some insideout rocks. These rocks are very hard inside but the outside is soft as velvet. I decided then and there that something had to be done, so, I looked around me, up and down, then I looked up again expecting to see an opening with some light up there. When I looked up, what I saw was enough to make a god of horror die of fright, for coming down on me was a shower of what looked to be three pointed knives, I found out later it was raining upside down in there. As quickly as possible I jumped aside and the knives went splat on my soft pile of rocks. I stood there in wonder, not knowing what it was all about. At that time I did not rea ize it, but I had been sinking into some kind of jelly substance that felt like jell-o around my legs. Immediately I started looking for something to pull myself out of it by. While I was standing there trying to think of a wa , something hit me in the face. It was slimy and, wet and cold. It also had a terrible odor. I gave a terrified yell. As I groped in the blackness trying to fiind something to hold onto, my forehead was wet with a cold sweat. Suddenly something struck my feet and started pushing me up. It seemed as tho one terror followed another and made me forget the first. As I was rising, my hand touched something that felt like a hook. I rabbed it and held on. As I held on the hook, I didnt know what it was fastened to. I could see the jell-o and rocks dropping down lower and lower. After a minute or two, I was just hanging there bv my hands and nothing was under me. Then the hook! It started to go up. It was pulling me right into something cnxst and cold and sharp. It was cutting me on the face and head. Then my head popped thru a crisp crust and I could see a long tunnel. As soon as I had my shoulder above the surface, I pulled myself up and let go the hook. Then I ran and ran. I could see an opening up ahead. I hurried out. I was only about eight feet from the hole I'd fallen into. On my way home I met some mineralogists. I told them of my experience. They were very interested, did some research and found I'd made the most startling discovery in years. I'd discovered a gigantic fly. I had fallen into its ear and found my way out its nose. LAWRENCE ROBERTSON, '53, Headaches Cynthia was walking down the dark street at ten o'clock that june night in 1817, the night that was to be remembered as one of the hap iest nights of her life. She was small with big blhck eyes and black curls. She had just been to see her grand- mother. Her mother had planned to go with her, but had complained of a headache late in the after- noon. She had been ill quite often recently. No wonder , thought Cynthia and tears came to her eyes. The reason was simple. No word from her brother Tom in months. He had gone to iight in that terrible war in spite of her mother's pleas to stay home. Now he might be dead for all they knew. The night was warm, but she shuddered. Her mind came back to thc resent and the lonely stretch of woods ahead off, her. In the daytime, Cynthia loved the woods with its tall trees, the brook and little wooden bridge. She and Tom had always played there. But it was no longer daytime. In her imagination thc trees might hide almost any- thing and the brook and bridge were just another hazard along the way. She took a deep breath and started along the path, determined not to let her imagination run away with ht-r. After all, she was eighteen and quite grown up, Hut for some reason, she kept remembering the last walk she and Tom had taken along the same path. She hadn't been frightened at all then. Suddenly sho heard the sound of someone running behind her. ller heart lept into her throat and she hurried a littlc faster. Then she heard a familiar voice call her name. She turned and ran into his arms. Tom had come home at last! I won't describe the talk that went on for the remainder of the walk home or the reccption Tom got when they arrived. I only know that Cynthia's mother had no more headaches. I know because Tom was my great PENNY HALE, '54. Experience in a Mud Puddle great grandfather. I would like to tcll you of the lovely walk I had one day last week. I came in from swimming and thought I would take a walk around town. It had been raining early in the morning and then had grown quite cool. I dressed up in a new white suit, which is very becoming to me, and wore my best white hat. I started out and walked briskly u one avenue and briskly down another. I was about halfwa across one of these streets when I came to m riefl My feet slipped on a slimy brick and I landecf flat on my back in a puddle of dirty water. I hit my poor head an awful bang. I was so mad I couldnt think of a thing to say as all my slang flew away when I hit my head. My nice round hat was saved a ducking when it jumped off my head and almost across the street. Some little jum er, that hat! An obliging breeze picked it up and ffew it around the corner to a fire hydrant. There it sat down with a flop and waited for me. The spectators to my fall were three children, a horse, and an old green and yellow parrot. The kiddies weren't impressed but the parrot yelled and ha-ha-ed and enjoyed himself a whole lot. He was in a cage hung on a porch right near where I fell. I don't know what the horse thought. He behaved like a gentlemen though as he neither laughed nor talked. That's more than I can say for the other witnesses to my disaster. But on with my narrative. I'll have you ima ine how I looked. My white suit was no longer suitaizle. I had to get home, though, so I tumed around and hurried toward the hotel. I had gone about two blocks when I met a cab. I never was so glad to see a cab before. Of course the hotel porches were full of people. It was just before lunch and folks were sitting around waiting for the dining rooms to open. Fortunately it was my back that had suffered injury from the mud. I gave one look to see who was ehind me. No one save an old man in a wheel- chair. I made a dash for the side entrance to the hotel and caught the elevator going up. I went with it. Thus ends the tale of my fateful walk. PAULINE WHITTEN, '54. Biology Biology comes fifth period, directly after recess. VVe slowly take our books from our desks, then slowly go to biology class. Mr. Knight approaches and shakes his head very discouragingly. He writes on the board a few words, ever so long. Then he says, Can you define these at all? As usual, we al sit there dumbfounded. He bangs his book on the dial: and tells us we have got rock in our heads. lie calls on someone and says, Define uosmosisn, phoiosynthesis. Those are his two favorite biology words. If anyone savs, I don't know , they are bctier off dead. Mr. Knight is really a wonderful teacher. He shows us movies, and performes experiments. Free- port High School is very happy and lucky to have him for our principal. JOAN SAWVYER. '54.

Page 29 text:

PAINT CREVV Left to Right: N. Sargent, M. Turner, Nl. Sargent, L. Tnrcottc, I. Could, C. Carll, B. Ilersey A SUNNY SIGHT Sunny yellow and earthy brown upper and lower walls, respectively, describe the girls' newly decorated locker room. This room was previously drab in color and had a cold atmosphere before the Home Economics girls Cseniors and juniorsj tackled it. Seven girls under the direction of Mrs. Claire Vinning scrubbed Hoors, walls, and windows. The lockers, benches and other incidental furniture were painted in shades of light brown in order to be in harmony with the primary colors of the room. Additional furniture such as a small bed, a mirror, a table and a medicine cabinet were all added to make the room more attractive and useful. Attractive posters were made to put on the walls to remind the girls that it is their duty to keep the locker room clean and free from scattered articles of clothing. The general idea in redecorating the locker room was to make it more pleasant and colorful for the girls so that they could be proud of their room. Showers are to be added later-we hope and trust-for the benefit of the girls of this school and visiting teams. If all the girls help to keep the locker room pricked up and neat, other furniture will probablv be added as the members of t . . e acu ty and the superintendent know the girls of our school are very ap- preciative and co-operative. NANCY SARCENT, '52,



Page 31 text:

flirt ,EAA M' IUNIOR PRIZE SPEAKING Back Row, Left to Right: A. Haskell, I. Gould, E. Leighton, N. Sargent, E. Holmes, M. Turner. Front Row, Left to Right: M. Basinet, G. Barnard, G. Mahar, C. Tibbetts. LOOKING BACK Last year junior Prize Speaking was held on April 11. Carol Coffin played a prelude of songs after which a prayer was given by Rev. Leslie Craig. The selections started with a comedy, The School Program given by Marjorie Basinet. Next Charles Tibbetts told about Dramatic Art . That was followed by lane Entertains the Ministeri' as told by Anne Haskell. Last before a piano solo by Beverly Fowlie was Nancy Sargent telling the touching story about The Commencement? Following the piano solo came Glenna Maharis humorous selection about Four Generationsv. The serious tale of the Soul of the Violin by joan Gould quieted everyone for a moment. Next Edgar Leighton set every- one laughing with Guiding the Guidesv. Marilyn Turner had all criminals tied up in Bopes',. Glenna Mahar sang and Ioan Wheeler touch the audienece with the sad yet beautiful Swan Songu. Everyone laughed over Elaine Holme's account of The Lady Who Had Been to New Yorkv, only to be sobered by joan of Lorraine given by Beverly F owlie. George Barnard finished the program with the humor of Fisherman's Luckv. Music was played while the judges decided the prizes. George Barnard came out with first prize, followed by Glenna Mahar with second, while third prize went to Beverly Fowlie. Marjorie Basinet had honorable mention. ANN HASKELL, '52.

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