Harmony High School - The Ferguson Yearbook (Harmony, ME)

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THE FERGUSON O POBIHS SENIOR GIRLS' FAREWELL TO BASKETBALL Now we leave old H. H. S. Our basketball days are o'er. Central High School took us over Our first time on the floor. We were not to be discouraged, And Hartland we did play, Finally Duffy blew the whistle- We'd won! we heard him say. Then we went to Norridgewock, Were beaten eighteen to four. When they cam-e to our town We did reverse the score. Fighting two games with Unity Both times we were defeated, When we trimmed them down at Lawrence Our rooters were unseated. Anson came to our town And th-ought that they were 'wise, When they saw the final score I guess they had a surprise. Then with Central we matched our skill Upon our own hard floor, When this basketball was ended We found we'd won once more. Now the eighth game of the season We played in Hartland's gym, Harmony's players were successful For they had lots of vim. Losing a game to Anson's girls Was much to our disgust. None of us could get agoing, But, if we had we'd won, I trust. Next we played two games with Clinton, And twice right off we starred. Finding we'd won the Championship By playing mighty hard. Ending the season of '35 At Lawrence's Festival, Winning a game and losing a game, We tied with Hallowell. Having a banquet given to us By members of the Grange, Many were called upon to speak, Our places we tri-ed to exchange. Coach, we give you the credit For our big success. Thank you for your loyalty, We wish you happiness. N'er more we'll play for H. H. S. We leave our school forever, Wishing all the best 0' luck Throughout the years and ever. -I. Mclaughlin, '35, THE SENIORS The Seniors soon will say goodbye To dear old H. H. S. The back seats we have occupied We'll leave to all the rest. Our pencil leads are getting dull, Our pens are rather rusty, Our notebook paper slowly fades, Our books are getting dusty. We've used up many a piece of chalk, And 'rasers that cost a penny, We've spent much money for all these things, And now we haven't any. I'm sure that Mr. Lamson Will hate to see us go, And we shall miss his classes, Of that we're sure we know. And also to Miss Adams, We bid a fond farewell, She coached us in our Senior play And did it go off swell! So now, dear friends and schoolmates, We bid you all adieu, And hope that luck and fortune Will clear its way for you. . -Rita Willis, '35. 1 CLASS OF '35 We Seniors are a jolly bunch I think you'l1 all agree. We're really not as dignified As Seniors ought to be. We laugh-we fool-we play good jokes, And have a jolly time. No work, no care, it's all in fun, Life's just a. happy rime. But soon we leave old H. H. S., Our school days will be o'er. And then we'll have to be more staid And put into practice our lore. I N 1'S--Virginia Downs, '35. DEAR OLD SCHOOL DAYS We were schoolmates when children, Just you and I. Walking home together 'Neath a deep blue sky. Carrying my books and lunch pail, Just a little boy Very shy and bashful, Just a mother's joy.

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THE FERGUSON Kb Then, under an apple tree, Such a serious vow, A little queen who had been crowned Under a leafy bough. Sitting at night with my memories, Listening to the rain My heart goes back to my school days, And I re-live those moments again.. -B. Foss, '35. MEMORIES We sit by the fire dreaming, Dreaming of days gone by, Memories come back again Which make each one sigh. When we were children together, A barefoot boy and girl, I adored y-our eyes of blue And worshipped each golden curl. Other memories returning Remind me of the day When we stood 'neath apple' blossoms- I love you, I heard you say. For richer or poorer-better or worse, Till death doth you part? - I do. And with two words you became my Vowing that you'd be true. And then most wonderful of all- My heart leaped with joy As the nurse came thro' the doorway With, Congratulations, a boy! And two growing old together, Going slowly down the pathway of Tho' your golden hair is turning gray You'l1 always be my beloved wife. Wife, life, -A. M. B., '35. I WONDER? Anson doesn't like to study, But he surely likes to fool. As our teachers tell us We can't do that in school. They talk and talk to him But it doesn't do any good. The threaten to ut him in a strai ht- 'acket. Y P g J It ought to be a hood. He'll throw paper, books and pencils, Anything that's good and handy, And to tell the truth, I think He is related to Amos 'n Andy. He never knows his French lesson, In Chemistry he's not so dumb, I guess he doesn't like his literature, So, in English class he makes things The trouble isn't with Miss Adams, Nor is it with Mr. Lamson, I know the trouble isn't with me, Could the trouble be with Anson? hum. -I. E. F., '36. THE SCHOOL IMP There is a girl in H. H. S. Whose hair is red as fire, Who raises heck the whole day Who is a real live wire . long, She fools n' fools-all the time, And plays all kinds of pranks. One thing I do not understand, Is how she gets good rank. For all -of her foolish tactics She is sometimes very shy, She blushes very easily When boys come around, Oh my! She has a sense of humor To go with her iiaming locks, Now, do not be surprised, The girl is-Ida Fox. --P. L. B., '36. ,l.l.T. A POEM Here I sit- O dear me! Miss Titcomb says A poem it must be. I can't write poetry, I can't write prose, I can't write about flowers, I can't write about cl-othes Here I still sit, Trying to think. There! that pen Has run out of ink. I can't help it, It's time to stop. It's English ,time By the Main Room clock. -N. E. S., '38. SPRING In the sunny days of May When the snow has gone away, And the birds are singing sweetly in the trees, ' The boys and girls are shouting to each other cross the way, And their voices come aiioating on the breeze. All the boys and girls are happy As they smile with faces dear, For their books are put away until another Year, And the dogs have gone in swimming for the cats are up the trees, And alt last the joyful days of spring are ere. -Ronald Reed, '38.