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

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THE QUILL 13 The horses stopped And I climbed in Met by some cheery Helloes And many a friendly grin. The driver hallooed, The team started, And from that spot We soon departed. Over hill and over dale We covered the country ground, Over bridges and under the stars And everywhere - all around. As we grew tired of riding And our thoughts homeward turned, We thought of the hotdogs and marsh- mallows We'd roast over the fire that burned. When the sleigh had returned me to my home, I got out and called a cheery good-bye, And I knew the memory of that sleigh ride Would remain long after the sweet by and by. - Lois Danforth, '51 THE RICH MOUNTAIN The mountain loomed up in the horizon, barren and rugged, daring anyone to even try to conquer him. But there were always some who wanted to conquer him. Some were selfish and greedy for the fame and riches that they thought awaited them. They never made it. The mountain was unemotional to the shrieks and terror-filled voices of these people when they plunged to destruction. One day a stranger came and stood at the base of the mountain. He looked up, and as far as the eye could reach, saw a mass of rock, covered with living things, uncon- quered. The young man admired its beauty. Here animals and plants flourished, here loveliness was at its best. He wanted to climb that mountain - out of sheer joy! This was what the mountain couldn't seem to figure out. Whyjjustzfor the pleasure? Why? He had riches in his grounds, enough to make men die and fight for. So he watched this man and liked him, but he stubbornly clung to the promise he had made to himself. No one was to reach the top! The mountain played all kinds of tricks on the man. But he failed to stop this one. The mountain trembled in rage and sud' denly rocks came tumbling down upon the young man. Lying so still was the young man, the mountain thought he ought to feel triumph, but instead he felt sorry and ashamed. The man had done nothing! The wind became like the sound of whimpering. A light rain came down and then the sun came out, drying out nature's children, including the young man. He awoke soon, not feeling the worst of his fall, his head was not paining as much as before. He trudged on towards the top. This time the mountain was with him, watching him like a proud father. I The young man reached the top and looked down at the world bathed in all its splendor and bewitching beauty. He stood there and let the whistling winds cool him. As he stood there, he thought he heard a whisper, but no one was around! A slight trembling of ground -then a sign! He stood there amazed as he recalled the words he had seemed to hear. You are my conqueror. Take good care of me and I will serve you well. The ways of the good will triumph. - Sally-Ann Forsythe, '52 IN MY DREAMS Where can I wander Free from care? Where can I hide From other's stares? IN MY DREAMS. Where can I wander By babbling brooks? Where can I hide I From books, books, books? IN MY DREAMS. - Patricia Buker, '50

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12 THE jorky, a shaggy overgrown German Shep- herd pup, rushes at me as soon as I come into sight. He never barks but tries to pounce out in such a way as to scare me. He wants me to stay to play for a while but doesn't know quite how to keep me. Patsy, a black fuzzy dog of no particular breed, does her best to frighten me with her loud bark and toothless nips. I know she doesn't hate me but only tries to make me think so. Rocky is one of my most loyal pals, since I seem to be the only one who likes him. All the neighbors hope to have him move away. When he is in the best of spirits, I can- count on his company for the rest of the routeg but only because he wants to chase his favorite cats and squirrels. At one house Grandpaw, a big fluffy grey and white cat, comes out to be put in my paper bag for a short ride. He loves to be petted. My squirrel friends are always ready for games of hide and seek. One in particular calls me names nearly every morning for disturbing her plans. Even Mr. Woodman's house has a friend for me. Chippie, the chipmunk, who lives under the porch has many squeaks and chatters for me if I sneak up on him. Last but not least is my own cat, which waits on the porch rail. He always has a loud Meow - as much as to say, Isn,t it about time to let me in?', I have many other animal friends of different kinds and dispositions, but these are my favorites. Some fine morning I'm sure they'll all be glad to meet you if you care to come along with me. - M. Carlton Storms, '53 A DIME TELLS ITS STORY I am just a plain little old dime. I can't remember right where I came from, but here I am anyway -in an old lady's money box. I'm in here, tucked down with all the rest of her money. I don't have any fun any- more, just lying here day by day. I can remember how I used to enjoy life so much. QUILL There was the time that I fell out of jimmy's daddy's pocket and was given to jimmy for his piggy bank, then he sneaked me out and I went to the store to buy him an ice cream. Then once I was given to the Salvation Army where I helped buy some coal for a poor family down in the poor part of the town. I was very proud that time to think I could help out. I remember little Janie and Tommy Brown so well. They were the ones that took me to the fair that terribly hot day. Poor little Tommy couldn't ride on the merry-go-round because he lost me. I tried my best to cry out to him when he dropped me, but I couldn't make a sound so I just had to lie there in the dirt and dust and be walked on and kicked around. After the fair was over, two little boys found me and had a fist fight over who was going to keep me. It never occurred to them, I suppose, that they could share me. After a time a little old lady came along and ex- plained to the boys how they could share meg and taking me, she gave each of the boys a nickel. How happy they were! Well, I am still with that little old lady. I've been here for a long time now, but I hope that soon I shall be off to new adven- tures and that I shall be happy again. - Barbara Hamilton, '51 A POND MEMORY The moon was shining through the trees That brisk and silent night, And looking up and down the road Not a person was in sight. Suddenly a sound came to my ears, A sound of tinkling bells, And looking up the road I saw Two horses galloping pell-mell. Behind them was a sleigh Filled with many girls and boys Whose laughing, giggling, and talking Surely made a lot of noise.

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14 T H E THE KID NEXT DOOR It's Saturday morning47 o'clock. I'm sound asleep with the covers over my head. Ring! I pull the covers closer R-r-r-ing! Might as well answer it! jumping up, I grab the phone and shout, Hello! Frefud, c'n ya cum out? That's HIM-the Kid next door! Four feet tall and almost as wide, he is, and six years old or thereabouts. His mother buys man's size pants and has to cut off the legs and put a gusset in the rear before they will fit him. This is his second year of school and he should be going all day now, but as his mother says, They would have one session just when HE goes to school. His cat and dog probably feel the same way, because their lives are pretty complicated when the Kid is home. When I first knew him, he might have been a little smaller but not much, but any- way he was three years younger. That was about the time he started asking to borrow my football and bebe gun. I'd say, No, and looking out the window, I'd see him hiking over the path toward his house with them. Qln 1959 his Pa hopes to see the Kid carry the ball for a winning touchdown for Gardiner High School.D He used the gun to ambush startled customers as they went to and from the neighborhood store. One school vacation he fell into the grease pit over at the filling station. After he'd been fished out, both the proprietor and his Ma wished school would start up again - quick! Last summer the Kid's Pa was painting inside the piazza. He had a big gallon can of red paint on a little stand. All was going well until the Kid wanted to help and reached for the brush. His foot kicked the leg of the stand, upsetting the red paint on the gray floor, which wasn't supposed to be painted at all. Also upset was the somewhat strained humor of Pa, who promptly gave his pride and joy something to remember a long time. Then there was the day he called on the phone and I asked, Whatcha want? and he said Pre-ud, I got a surprise for ya, and I said, Oh, all rightf, In a minute the door opened and in he QUILL came with an envelope. Inside were two pennies wrapped in tissue paper. You keep 'em, Fre-ud, he told me. Now the Kid says he is going to take violin lessons. This reminds me of the time when, after sitting long and patiently while I practiced, he finally whispered in my ear, I..et's sneak out. Maybe it'll be on the football field, or it could be at a school concert, but in about ten years from now you'll be seeing a lot of The Kid Next Door -and I'll be right there, clapping as hard as anybody. - Fred Anderson, '51 CRIME DOESN'T PAY The night was dark and dreary. Only nocturnal noises were audible to ears perked to canine alertness. The house was quiet as the family slept. But in the stillness of the night lurked two figures, each un- aware of the other. Suddenly furtive steps sounded as they made their way toward a corner of the dining-room, where a table stood veiled in the gloom of the semi-darkness. With an expression of shamelmore than, malice, the intruder reached for' a diminutive object with nervous fingers. Suddenly, he heard running footsteps descending the hall stairs. Forgetting his loot, he dashed away before he was dis- covered. No sooner had he disappeared when a small boy entered the room. Going directly to the table,Ahe took tenderly in his arms the object of the intruder's atten- tion. With it clutched in his chubby hands, he mounted the stairs. Then the house was quiet again as the two people recalled the episode of the night. The boy held his piggy-bank tight in his arms as he lay with exultant mind, thinking of how he had saved his precious Porky from the hands of a dangerous criminal. just a few doors down the hall, the dan- gerous criminal was crawling into bed, abashed and grinning sheepishly as he thought of his 'vain attempt to borrow some money from his son's piggy-bank. - Faye Hayden, '51