Gardiner Area High School - Quill Yearbook (Gardiner, ME)

 - Class of 1939

Page 12 of 100

 

Gardiner Area High School - Quill Yearbook (Gardiner, ME) online collection, 1939 Edition, Page 12 of 100
Page 12 of 100



Gardiner Area High School - Quill Yearbook (Gardiner, ME) online collection, 1939 Edition, Page 11
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Page 12 text:

IZ THE QUILL The cop is getting ready. just a little while now. In a few seconds he will beckon to me and I will go. Go? Go where? It's too late now. I don't care, I'll go. I'd rather do anything than wait, just wait, like this. Yes, anything, even die! Time's up. Here comes the officer! Come on, come on. Don't expect to live here, do you? All right, officer. Gh, ifI had only followed mother's advice when she told me to take the longer Boule- vard route instead of taking a chance on the tragic lights in the business district. Nine lights, and everyone but the first against me! -George Cottle, '39 THE TYRANNY OF TIME Back in the dim days when bare-footed farmers sowed and reaped the fertile margi- nal plains of the Tigris and the Euphrates, in the bygone era when richly robed high priests and queer, conglomerate animal-gods roamed the valley of the Nile, perchance some early Chaldean wise man, or an Egyptian high priest, might, on a starlit eve- ning, have been seen gazing up at the heav- ens, or burning midnight oil over an odd little device. Again, at noonday, there might have been seen one of these ancient worthies peering intently at the shadows on a small, queerly marked flat stone. From such humble beginnings came the god, Time. With that carved flat stone, the little bearded wise man drew the Spirit of Time from the sky. He nourished and de- veloped the thing he had discovered, and soon Time, slowly increasing in size, spread his darkening wings over the Near East. Ah! Sons and daughters of Pharaoh! Alas, O children of the Nile and the Eu- phrates, had you but seen your error! Could you but have known the true nature of the demon you released upon the centuries! But lamentations avail naught. Time ex- ists. From that sorry epoch until this, he has stalked through the garden of history. Egypt, Persia, Babylon, Jerusalem, Troy, Greece, and proud Rome - he has knocked them all down carefully in different direc- tions. Through the Middle Age and into the Modern, marches Time, attended by his horde of Minutes and Seconds. Where- upon, calmly sitting down on the inhabi- tants, he announces that he is here to stay. Today, Time is the greatest dictator of all. His sway extends over every nation, over every city, town, and village. One look at his vast power makes a mere Hitler or Mus- solini feel too small to be envious. He is more than a dictator. He is a tormenting fiend, omnipotent and ubiquitous. He yanks us out of bed in the morning, kicks us about all day and all night. He rules our every action. It is always time to do some- thing, but there is never time enough to do anything. Time is ever at our backs, prod- ding us on, faster, faster, faster. While I think on these sad conditions, it suddenly recurs to me that I am supposed to be a liberty-loving American, and of a fam- ily of supposedly hardy and independent Scots. Yet, as Ilook about me, Isee my relatives, my friends, my neighbors, my fel- low countrymen, all alike docilely submit- ting to this abuse, unprotesting, taking the same ill-treatment. Why has no one raised a hand against the tyrant? Can it be that we freeborn Americans, who, in this turbulent age of movements, causes, and wholesale revolution, have a recognized obligation to progress either-'to support or to overthrow almost everything, have gone to sleep on the job?

Page 11 text:

THE QUILL 11 and become a menace to all travel, more so because of their dark color. Many a motor- ist, while driving at night, has been blinded by a dark, cloud-like mass, which was invis- ible until he was in the midst of it. just last night I walked through one of these clouds and bumped my head on a few which must have been from a bride's first doughnuts - my head still aches. Since these doughnut holes are steadily increasing, we must either get rid of them, or prepare for perpetual night. In London, where doughnuts are well-known, the dark holes are so thick that sunlight is almost never seen. All these could be collected by nets be- hind planes or on the tops of trucks. The government should do this, but preferably it should not be made a W.P.A. project, as it must be done carefully and permanently. Then some use could be found for them. If German chemists can make bread and gasoline from wood, surely something could be done with these. For example, they could be compressed and used as stuffing in life belts. Thus a menace to our very lives could be used for saving them. -Perley Leighton, '39 SILENCE Silence, like the Roman God Janus, is two- faced. One face tries to help man and the other tries to destroy him. Let us first look at the face which is favor- able to man, for with its help many memor- able things have been accomplished and many great works have been produced. An example of this is Moses, for in the silence of the wilderness at the top of Mt. Sinai, he wrote down the Ten Commandments, a document of such magnitude that its effect can be seen in our religion even today. An- other illustration of this is found within the church, for it was in the gloomy silence of the Medieval monasteries that the lowly monks were able to copy and preserve the great works of art, and carry on the torch of learning until the world around them awoke. Although this face seems very important, one must not overlook the other face which is also important. One of the outstanding examples is Beethoven. Because he was stricken with deafness at an early age, he was forced to spend the greater part of his life in silence. In spite of this great diffi- culty, he continued his work of composing, and before he died, he produced some of the greatest pieces of music that have ever been written. Like Beethoven, Helen Kel- ler, was also stricken with deafness, but she too overcame this great handicap and rose to great heights. Think, however, of what great heights she might have reached, had she never been retarded by this handicap. Thus we see that silence has been in the past and probably will continue to be in the future, one of the best friends and one of the worst enemies that man has ever known. -Richard Danforth, '40 THE LAST STOP Well, this is the end. The last stop. I wish the cop wouldn't stare at me. He must know I won't make a break now. It's too late. Too late! I should have listened to mother. She knew best. She said this road was the bad road. She knew it would end like this. But I thought I was smart. It looked easy after I made that first one.



Page 13 text:

THE QU ILL 13 Where now is that rugged independence which once animated the hearts of our fore- fathers? Where now the glorious Spirit of Seventy-Six? Fellow citizens, can you be deaf to the pleading cries of liberty? Can you allow freedom to be banished by the merciless ticking of the clock? Not I! By the Fates, never! I feel the noble blood of my ancestors in my veins. I will submit no longer to the Tyranny of Time. I can stand no more. Fellow sufferers, unite! Com- rades, arise! Down with Time! -David N ivison, '40 MY FIRST OFFENCE Did you ever get a ticket? Possibly you have had so many that the experience has palled on you or you have become callous, but I have just received my first, and the mental anguish is still fresh enough to frighten me. Returning from the show, I found a red fof all colorsll ticket on the handle of the door. I have heard of such things, but horrors - this couldn't happen to me! I gulped down my heart, quickly tore the ticket off and thrust it into my pocket before anyone should see it. After I had recovered from the shock, I nervously asked my companion, why? Getting no comfort I hastily got away from there and went home, where I felt se- curity was. I took the ticket from my pocket and looked at it - Violation of the Parking Law. Illegal Parking. Recipient report at once to the Police Station in person. Visions of court, fines, and thick steel bars came crowding into my mind. Oh, I know it wouldn't mean all that, but one does think! I rushed to the phone to get my Dad but no luck. Was I in a mess! Well, no help for it. I braced myself and trotted down to the Police Station ffrom now on I'm walkingll and waited for the Minion of the Law, but none appeared. My courage grew stronger and when it grew strong enough I went out and hunted up the afore- said M. of L., showed him my ticket and ex- plained to him. Bless him! He said of course I was parked wrong, told me not to do it again, and tore my ticket up. -Lois Farrell, '40 l HIGH SPOTS FROM HAPPY I THE I-IOUND'S DIARY . Monday, April 3: Life is grand at the filling station. It's a dog's life. Cars to chase, nice bunch of boys to bark at, and a nice river to swim in. Today I'm in the wrong. I chewed up a tire and ate a pan of grease. I don't see why they should feel so bad, it's I who have the stomach ache. The tire tasted rather nice fit should. Sim said it was the most expensive one in the store.j - Tuesday, April 4: I-Iad a lot of fun today. I grabbed that hose thing. It squirted all over Ted. I-Ie looked so funny until he re- membered to stop turning the crank. Then I put for the Kennebec just as fast as I could with Ted at my heels and the motorist at Ted's. Wednesday, April 5: A man came in to- day. I lifted my left ear, grinned and winked. I-Ie's sold on me already. I'm getting sick of the filling station. It's just the same old cars, boys, and fleas. The boys say they are going to stop the filling station and start a flea circus with me as the home of the trained flea. Thursday, April 6: I'm sold to the man I winked at yesterday. I-le took me home in the car. I kept lapping his ear while he was

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