Gowanda Central School - Valley Bugle Yearbook (Gowanda, NY)

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THE VALLEY BUGLE ANNUAL V LMILLER, ALEINE I Begone, dull care! I prithee begone from me! Begone, dull care! thou and I shall 'never g agree.-Playford T OWNSEND, IJOROTIIY I hate nobody, I am in charity with the world.-Swift BALDWIN, RAYMOND Lord, what fools these mortals be! -Shakespeare VVILLCOX, NELL-GRAY Of all the girls that e'er was seen, There's none so fine as Nelly!-Swift LAW, GRACE Lord! I wonder what fool it was that frst invented kissing.-Swift JOHN, D1-:NN1sON Barkis' is willinf--Dickens IDAVIICS, CHARLES The world knows nothing of its greatest anen.-Taylor FARRHLL, CREOLA O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?-Shakespeare DOXTATOR, ARLENI3 But to see her was to love her, Love but her, and love forever.-Burns LIENTLEY, JOHN Oh, it is great To have a giant's strength, but it is tyrannous . To use it like .a giant.-Shakespeare

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THE VALLEY BUGLE ANNUAL VVITHERELL, ELOISE Thou pendulum betwixt a smile and tear. BENTLEY, LOUIS Beware the fury of a patient man. GLAIR, GORDON I am slow of study.-Shakespeare. F LOGAUS, CAROLA Here's to the girl with eyes of brown Whose spirit proud you can not down. CROUSE, GEORGE Saying and doing are two things.-Henry VVITHERELL, FRANCES My cake is dough.-Shakespeare UOVVERS, VERA Ncdught venture, naught had.-Tusser KEWLEY, GERALD Wlien I don't know whether to fight or not, I always fight.-Nelson ZUZEK, FRANCES Cookery is become an art, a noble science. BENTON, EDITH I'd be a butterfly b-orn in a bower Where roses and lilies and violets meet. -Byron -Dryden -Anonymous -Burton -Bayly Y Y A 'N ,Q 1 rj

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THE VALLEY BUGLE ANNUAL I5 ANDRes, I.EsTER Wlzerc the stream runneth smoothest, the wo-ter is deepest.--Lyly POLLY-iN, HELEN Nothing is impossible to the willing heart. -Heywood TILLOTSON, MARGARET Your heart's desire be with you. -Shakespeare CHEPLO, ALEX Yet have I something in me dangerous. -Shakespeare BARTOXV, CQERALD A bold bad man.-Spencer - G.H.s. - A A Fireplace A fireplace is a lovely thing. That is, some fireplaces are. VVhen the wood is piled high and the flames leap eagerly through it slowly revealing the mysteries of darkness, then a fireplace is lovely. Wlhen the hearth is sprinkled with chips and stray coal presses its hot cheek against the cold hearthg when an old kettle, long since blackened with the smoke, hangs faithfully in one corner and a bellow lies carelessly across the hearth- then a fireplace is lovely. The room is fragrant with the incense of the burning wood, the s-moke curls lazily in the farthest nooks and corners. There are ragged much-used books nesting peacefully on their shelves, a much-worn rug made beautiful by the dancing flames with a shiny, black cat stretched out upon it - in my room. And there are people in my room. A comfy rocking chair creaks softly as Mother gently rocks the baby -alluring her to dreamland. Father is reading aloud, his dear, tired feet propped up on his favorite foot-stool. His strong, low voice rings softly through the room. A tall, handsome boy, the pride of their two hearts, is stretched full length beside the cat. In a semi-circle a girl is curled up, another is leaning dreamily against i'Mother's chair and still another is perched on Father's stool. Contentment and happiness have spread their spell over this family. The story is finished, baby is asleep and the Hre is low. All are dreaming- some of the future, some of the pas-t-the glowing fire, the stage for their dreams. Nothing can break the spell enveloping this family for love holds sway there. A fireplace is a lovely thing. N ELL-GRAY WILLCOX