Fryeburg Academy - Academy Bell Yearbook (Fryeburg, ME)

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30 The Academy 'Bell through in the last seventy years. My family all say that the world needs more people with a twinkling eye and a kind heart like our Grampa. VIVIAN SEELYE, '53 A YANKEE CUSTOM OLD Ned Brown, the village blacksmith, lounged idly in the warm sunshine, chewed on a cud of tobacco, and whittled. Behind him in the shop were a broken carriage shaft, a pile of junk iron, an old carriage wheel, and many miscellaneous articles to be mended. He was not a lazy man, but he liked to sit and whittle and think, just like any good New England Yankee. It was to this quiet scene that Hank brought his automobile to a screeching stop. Bounding from the car, he spotted Ned and dashed up the drive. In his hand was a broken javelin shaft. Mr, Brown? he shouted. Um?,' Here,s a broken spear that's got to be fixed right awayf' Receiving no reply, Hank shoved the broken shaft into Ned's lap and said impatiently, The coach has got to have this fixed before three o'clock. There's a meet this afternoon with South Paris, and we've got to furnish the javelin. This is the only one we've got, and we can't keep the whole team waiting. Can you do it?,' Nope!,' NOP But why? stammered Hank. Busyl,' But please, Mr. Brownf, said Hank. Misunderstanding his silence, he added, The school will pay you. I said I couldn't do it for youf, growled Ned and kept on whittling. They would have done it in the city where I came from,' said dejected Hank, as he retraced his steps to the car. South Paris had arrived, and already the people had begun to assemble to watch the meet. The coach and Mn stood at one end of the field when Hank stood up. Coach,', he said angrily, I can,t get anywhere with that old man! Honestly! When I took the spear up to him and asked him to mend it, he sat there and told me he couldn't do it. 'Too busyf he said! He was just whittling when I got there, and .... H The angry boy was interrupted by Mr.,', who threw back his head and laughed heartily. Running his hand through his graying hair and mopping his brow, 'iMr. said, Now Hank, you go back to Ned Brownis, and this is what I want you to do-.H The Hank who drove up to the blacksmithis shop the second time that after-

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The tficadenzy Bell 29 I was indignantly telling Mr. Davis I did not like fish. I appeared ready to tackle the heaviest guy at Notre Dame. With a shudder I put it down and started to pick up the next one. Then I remembered this was the one in which I had been laughing. I dreaded to look at it. Then Rae spoke up and said, 'IOh, that's good. Gee, that is wonderful? FRANCES BUSWELL, ,gr GRAMPA I VVANT to take you with me to an old-fashioned, fifteen-room farmhouse. Now probably you will say, What in the world are we doing here?,' You will find this rambling dwelling occupied by a little old man with bright blue eyes and a head full of stories. He is short and' has a great shock of white hair. You can imagine his looks and appearance by recalling someone you know who is seventy-three. He greets you with a cheery Hello and invites you in. Before you can ap- preciate the man, I must tell you something about him. He never eats eggs, so he says, because K'Had Harmon ate so many eggs he Hew up in a tree and they had to shoot him to get him downf' He likes to smoke his pipe so well that he says he would go without eating his meals if he could have his pipe. He stays at home most of the time because Hthese cars they have nowadays are dangerous, make me feel like a chicken in a coop on the way to 'ailfi He thinks very much of children and does everything he can to help them. One day he was Working vigorously on something, but he wouldn't tell us what it was. When it was completed, we had a cute little doll's carriage made of odds and ends that Grampa had found. He has also made small wheelbarrows, axe handles, hammer handles, stools, and even baseball bats. i He has a perfect mania for picking berries. Every summer he takes his berry pail and starts out to pick all the wild berries he can find for miles around. Some- times he stays out all day. This story would not be complete without mentioning his dog. He thinks more of her than anything in the world. She stays with him day andnight. He has taught her to shake hands, and he talks to her as if she were human. Grampa is not famous, rich or handsome, but he is kind-hearted, thoughtful and helpful. He will do anything to help his friends and his family. He taps shoes and repairs harnesses. He is the general handy man for the town. But if a tool is lost or left in the wrong place he has a fit. His quick wit and bright sense of humor draw people to him and he is much thought of by everyone. They say to him, I see you shaved this morningf, Yep, shaved before lightf' His short gray beard makes him look quaint and distinguished. We are always amused by the countless stories he tells of what he has been

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The Academy 'Bell 31 noon was a very different boy. He slowly pulled his car to a stop and ambled up the drive. Ned was still sitting on the steps and whittling a pine stick. After Hank had sprawled on the grass near the steps, he opened a conversation. 'ABeen pretty cold latelyf, he ventured. Going to be a whole lot colder, replied Ned sullenly. It iS?,' Can always tell when therels a cold spell coming onf, How? questioned Hank. Corns! They always ache when it gets colder. --and they do now? Sure do. Can hardly walk on 'em any moref' Golly, thatis too badf, I'm not sorry for myself, son. Itis the farmers I,m sorry forf, Their corn, you mean? laughed Hank. Yes, their corn! Isnit funny either. Take Iim Hawkins, for example. Know lim? Wishing not to appear too ignorant, Hank nodded. Iim has worked hard this summer, continued Ned. Had a big field of corn. Now Iim has a lot of kids to feed, and he depended on that corn. Well, we got a cold spell too early. Corn was just beginning to come. Was it all killed? asked the boy cautiously. Most all. He got some to the corn shop, but nowhere near as much as heid planned on. But theyill manage. Might have to let the hired man go. Theyive got a good bunch of cattle. Won first prize at the fair this yearf' Thais wonderfulf, said Hank enthusiastically. Lot of competition these daysf, . I should say there is competition! Used to be only a few folks would enter a cow or two, and it would be only those that lived quite close. Now every Tom, Dick, and Harry enters a few cows even if he lives fifty or a hundred miles away. Guess the fair is a lot different, isn,t it? Differentl Why back when I was a boy, the fair was the biggest event of the year. The women would cook for weeks before. Everyone would take a picnic and stay all day. You'd see people you hadn't seen for years. The women would have pie and cake contests, and the men would see who raised the largest pumpkin. There would be oxen pulling, cow judging, and1.,' Thais lots different than it is now!'l There,s no comparison. I would have liked to have gone to one of those fairs, said Hank truthfully. That was quite a bit before you were born, sonf' said Ned. But say, didn,t cs you have something for me to fix for the game this afternoon? IOHN LACAscE, '52