Fryeburg Academy - Academy Bell Yearbook (Fryeburg, ME)

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28 The Academy Bc!! first glance it appeared to be a masquerade costume of one sort or another, but upon closer examination, it proved to be a slinky black dinner dress of about 1930 vintage, slit to the knee, and fitting her slender form as if she'd been poured into it. My dear Marty,', I began. I wondered how to go about the delicate task of telling my young daughter that she looked devastating in the worst sense of the word. Taking a deep breath, I began again. Marty, you certainly don't intend to show yourself to Iohnny in that state, do you? Not that you don't look- uh-'simply devastatingf, as you put it. I has- tened to add, But donit you think - -F Before I could continue, the doorbell rang insistently, and glancing in the mir- ror and assuming an aloof and nonchalant countenance, Marty glided gracefully through the hall and Hung open the door. K'I'm so glad you could come, Iohnny dear. Won't you come inP', From my Hringside seatn in the study I could hear everything that was said in the next room, and couldn't resist the temptation of eavesdropping when my be- wildering daughter, suddenly dropping her newest role as 'Kwoman of the world, exclaimed: Oh, we almost missed the Hit Parade! Don't you think Frankie has a simply devastating voice, Iohnny? Naw, I think he stinks!,' came the uncomplimentary, but descriptive reply. I don't see what you dames see in that 1 18-pound, anemic vitamin peddlerf' He is not, Iohnny Towers! He's-he's-a dream! That's what he is! I cer- tainly hope you didnit come over here just to run down Frankie! If you did, I never want to see you again. Maybe that's a good idea, you-you-chameleon. Why don'tcha make up your mind whether youire a Southern belle or an outdoor girl or-or -. By the way, what are you trying to be today, anyway? I thought you looked funny when I came in tonight, now I know why. You forgot to remove the mudpackf' Although the two weren't in my line of vision, I had seen Marty go into one of her tantrums many times before, and I knew what was coming. I waited with bated breath for the inevitable outburst. It came. Iohnny Towers, you get right out of my house! I hate you! I don,t know why I ever had anything to do with a child like you, anyway! Get out of here and grow up-before I throw something! She flung open the front door and pointed dramatically toward the street. But Iohnny remained long enough to have the last word. He grinned broadly and said, O. K. Hedy, you win the first round, but don't plan on seeing me very soon, because if I have to wait until I grow up before darkening your door again, then I'l1 still have to wait a few years for you to gain some common sense. Or have you forgotten that you're exactly three years, two months, and eight days younger than I am? With this parting thrust he was off down the street. I hastened into the hall, thinking to console Marty and assure her that he'd be back, just like the other six times sheid ordered him out of her life forever. But my amazing daughter had again changed personalities. From the gleam in her eye

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The Academy Bell 27 SIMPLY RAVISHINGI ALDADDY, dear, don't you think I look sophisticated Pi, What now?n I groaned impatiently, and turned wearily toward the door in answer to my young daughter's startling inquiry. Ye Gods! I gasped, turning rather pale and grabbing at the mantle-piece for support. 'KWhat on earth did you do to yourself? Were you in an accident? Are you sick, Marty? Is it catching?', Why, daddy dear, fof late she had taken to calling me daddy dear, usually spoken in the tone one uses when speaking to half-wits and idiotsj I simply asked you a question. Don't you think I look simply ravishing? Iohnny's coming over tonight, daddy dear, and I wanted to look simply devastatingf' She twirled around on tiptoe several times for my inspection, and stopped her whirling-dervish act only when the phone rang. Oh, there's the phone. Don't bother, daddy. I'll get it. As she tripped mincingly across the room to the phone, I sat down heavily and meditated on the problems of having a 'teen-age daughter. My head was whirl- ing and my brain was in a muddle. So that was what Marty considered sophistica- tion, was it? And, what was worse, she evidently thought Iohnny would agree with her- hook, line, and sinkerf' What next? Two weeks ago she had imagined herself a Southern belle, and had gone around saying in heart-melting tones, How are you-all? and Ah simply adore the smell of magnolia blossoms, and anything else that she con- sidered to sound typically Southern. Last week her idol had been Ingrid Bergman, and she had gone Hall out', for that healthy, outdoor lookfl At least it was a change, though, and we all ac- cepted it loyally, and remained silent every time we saw her dash from the house, her just-scrubbed face shining like a headlight, unpainted lips looking strangely pale in contrast to her usual abundance of make-up, and her auburn hair definite proof that the comb hadn't even had a look at it. This latest quirk was too much for even me, though. Sophistication! 'LSimply devastating! she had said. Well, I could, in all honesty, agree that she was devas- tating, but more in the way ofa bazookagun than a potential I-ledy Lamarr. I was still puzzling over the strange and unexplainable fads and fancies of the younger generation, when Marty hung up the receiver and advanced towards me, mincing uncertainly along on her three-inch heels. Her hair was piled high on her head and fastened insecurely with several jeweled combs--the whole thing gave the curious effect of a leaning tower of Pisa. Her eyebrows had been plucked nearly to the non-existent state, and she had on enough mascara and eye-shadow to outdo Theda Bara herself. She had evi- dently had an argument with herself as to whether her lips would look more devastating painted in a Cupid,s bowu or left en naturalef' The result was Gene Tierney on one side and Marty Iohnson on the other. To lend the final unique touch, Marty was wearing a most peculiar get-up. At

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The Academy Bell 29 and the look of determination in her face, I surmised that she was up to something. Daddy dear, don't you think Iohnny would go for the 'simple, feminine allure' type of girl? Anyway, it's worth a try.', She closed the front door thoughtfully, stood for a moment getting all the steps straight in her mind, then dashed wildly up the stairs, shouting, Mother, where's my light blue dress with the frilly collar? Don't you think Iill look simply ravishing with my hair just brushed softly, and with that blue dress and soft music playing-you know, mother, something on the idea of Greer Garson. In her last picture she wore a simple hair-do and a blue gown, and she looked simply rauishingli' BARBARA PEACO, 747 RAINBOW CORNER THE American Red Cross Rainbow Corner in London is a very popular club for service men. It has about three hundred and fifty paid workers and about three hundred and seventy-five volunteers. Some of the best workers, women, are volunteers. These women wash dishes, scrub tables, give information and help in many other ways. There are so many soldiers who go to Rainbow Corner that the front door is seldom closed. The women help the boys to forget the terrible things that have happened to them so recently. Meals are served twenty-four hours a day. The food is always the best and is served in an appetizing manner. Rainbow Corner opened a barber shop and valet service during Iuly, 1943. Also, during this period, shower baths with hot and cold water were furnished to the boys. There is an information counter in the building, too, where the boys can learn how to go quickly to a particular place or get to some spot of interest. There is a volunteer who does sewing for the boys. She sews on their stripes and buttons, mends small rips, or darns. socks. The boys who go to the basement of Rainbow Corner get another volunteer to write to their mothers, wives, and sweethearts. Every day, for eight hours, she writes almost constantly. She helps many a boy out of black despair and makes him feel like an American again. The Americans want to see things, so a woman who has lived in England for the past ten years goes daily to help the footloose Yank to see something of the huge city. Since there are no sightseeing buses, she has trained and developed as guides, twelve taxi drivers. These make four trips a day to show the sights of London. This organization is doing a great deal for our boys over across. No one but a boy who has been without the luxuries of life can appreciate the homelike com- forts given to them there. For instance, a story is told of two boys who had come in from the front lines and wanted to know where they could get a hot bath. The hostess replied, Plenty of hot water for showers, but you'll have to furnish your own soap. They told her that they didn't have any, but a hot bath would be a