Fort Fairfield High School - Northern Light Yearbook (Fort Fairfield, ME)

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NORTHERN LIGHT ESSAY ON CARRYING WOOD A wood box. Did you ever take a good look at one of 'e1n? Ain't they just the worst things ya ever saw? They 're all wood dust and chips and everything ya hate to look at. l'll bet Aristotle never seen a wood box, because- we never heard anything about him luggin' wood. My gosh! when Ma hollars Come, Johnnie, and get some Wood, hurry now, the wood box is empty and the iirels almost out. That little piece makes me feel runny, all over. Just think of haiinta go down in that old cellar were it's all dark and damp and split Wood. L'll bet George Washington never had to do that when he was a boy, because if he had it would have spoiled him just like it's doing to ine, and then We Wouldu't have any great President to talk about. Some day lim going to catch cold and die, then she'll be sorry she ever sent me after the old wood. Gosh, I canlt seem to get out of it any way. I hide, I make believe I can 't hear her, but it don't do any good ,cause I always have to get it in the end. Every time I come home Ma always meets me at the door, the iirst thing she says is, Just the boy 1'm looking for, that wood box has been empty all afternoon. And that is supposed to be enough. But I wait around saying, Uwait a minute, donlt hurry meg I'll get your old wood, and the first thing I know I'm down in that cold, black celler. My gosh, I'll be glad when I can live by' myself so I won't have to carry Wood. I'll bet that fellow that held the world on his shoulders would get so tired he would die if he had to hold an armful of wood while Ma iilled the stove out of it. I I don't see why when they build a house they dou't put the celler up stairs right next to the stove. Boy, I'll bet it would be fun living then. Every time Ma asks me to get some wood and I grumble she springs that same line of talk that l'll bet every mother has, Never mind I'll get it, but you'll be sorry when I'm dead and gone. Of course I have to go get the wood, cause I'm supposed to be strong. That's just the way my life is from day to day, and when I get a boy you can bet your bottom dollar he will not carry wood. Merle Benjamin, '28. 10

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NORTHERN LIGHT Literary Department SPELL OF THE FOREST .The soft White flakes fell noiselessly from the gray sky. The great whiteness was everywhere. Its snow was heaped three feet deep over the floor of the forest and each evergreen was heavily laden with its carpet. The silence was unbroken except for the steady seep-seep of the snow, or occasionally by a heavily laden bough dislodg- ing its burdensome mass. I I stooped in the shelter of a huge fallen spruce, unlaced my webs, shook the snow from my person, and after scooping the snow away down to the frozen moss I built a small fire of dry cedar and soon was meditating in the drowsy heat reflected upon me by the protecting spruce. From my warm shelter I could gaze out into the snow- filled air of the dim forest. -No animal life could be discerned except for the occa- sional swift passing of a snow-shoe rabbit or a momentary glimpse of a red squirrel whisking down the trunk of a neraby tree. 1The loneliness of the forest was oppressive. There was no sign of life, no sign to show that human foot had ever trod on this Wild spot. There was only an occasional movementg perhaps the gentle swaying of the boughs or a swirl of wind- blown snow in an exposed place. The spell of the forest! It caused me to shiver and glance around, and I felt more secure with the big spruce trunk at my back. 3 The solitude hung heavily over me and I refrained from moving, fearing the sound of my own motions. I call it fear, yet it was not fearg it was rather an awe, an awe caused by the loneliness, fby the solitude of the place. An awe for the majesty of Nature and its elements. Thus I sat until I sensed a chill in the air and glancing down beheld the black ashes of the forgotten fire which had long since died away. Quickly rising, I hastily replaced my webs and left the forest and its broken spell just as the dim grayness of dusk was turning to the black of a starless night. Ivan Bodge, '28, 9

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NORTHERN LIGHT ON GOING T0 BED - u ' Samuel Coleridge, a famous author, writes, f'Oh sleep! it 1S a gentle thing. In my view Mr. Coleridge must have been a light sleeper. Sleep tome is like the darkness, or a nar- 1:-otic, or even a dragon, it creeps upon you, and with your com- plete senses about you, you succumb to it and are utterly help- ess. I Just why do you go to bed when you could read a good book? or listen to the radio? or amuse yourself in several ways? Some people say they will be tired tomorrow. In that case they are far-sighted, and some far-sighted people are pessimists. If a person goes to bed so that he will be awake tomor+ row, he might miss something tonight, and live to see a lot of sleepy people tomorrow. Sleep is a powerful and mighty thing. Lindbergh, the greatest hero of the day, says that the hardest thing on his whole journey was to fight away sleepiness. Sleep has killed thousands of people. There is a sleeping sickness, peo- ple who have it go to sleep and never wake up. This is the most pleasant death I could think of for some sleepy-heads. Sometimes people driving cars succumb to sleepiness and wreck their cars, oftentimes causing their own death. In the army in time of war if a guard is found asleep he is punished by death. Sleep is so powerful that if a person were to go with- out sleeping and eating he would go to sleep before he would starve to death. Medford Locke, '28. NATURE Spring is to me the best season of the year. It is to our year what morning is to our day. The birds come back and build their nests where they can stay throughout the summer. The flowers also begin to wake up and push their heads ihrough the ground that had been frozen for so long.l With all nature working so hard to prepare for summer, it is im- possible for us to act indifferent. All through the winter we are kept indoors, or when we do muster up enough courage to resist Jack Frost we have to wrap ourselves up in woolen clothes unless we want to freeze. So when spring comes and we can sit on the porch steps and watch the thermometer thaw out, It's a grand and glorious feeling. G. Johnson, 28. 11