Hartland Academy - Ripple Yearbook (Hartland, ME)

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I knew it was a lbird. Tihat bird was small, but full of notes, It loves to sing, it seems. It ,sang a song' so smooth and clear, 'Ilhat took me into dreams. And in my dreams I heard a whisper, I know not what it said. And 'soon again I heard another, It went right through my head. It woke me up, and what I heard, Was still that same smooth note. It falded off, so far away, And I sat down and wrote. I hear a bird so far away, It's singing soft and low, 'Twill sing until the break of day, When he to sleep may go. -Kenneth Lary '46 SCHOOL It seems to me, And it must to you, Going to school Is tedious to do. First a lesson, Then a big testg Do you not think Those teachers: are pests? You cannot talk, You can't even sing, Can't say a word, It's a darned funny thing. There we must sit, Studying hard all day, We'll all be glad The twenty-sixth of May. Oh, the teachers May get tired, toog They really have Lots of work to do. E241 And so I suppose When the end is near, The days of school Will seem very dear. But as for me, It still is true School is most tediousrg Don't you think so too? -Rae Jean MY POETRY To write a poem I was told to do, So Stubborn me Must see it through. First I gazed, And then I thought, Its hopeless, yes, I guess I'm caught. I said to myself, What of my rank? But what to do? My mind: was blank! I tried and tried, But all for naught, I find my poem Is not so hot! But still I tried Randlett '46 With might and main, I did my best, That's surely plain So if this poem Lacks rhyme and beat, It's not my fault, I still repeat. -Marilyn Mills '46

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There's ironing from way last week- Who said housework was fun? But Ma is coming home tonight, I'll soon be through this mess. I'll iron, wash, and cook, and cleang Itls not so bad, I guess. Ma'll say, You've done so well, my girl, I think you need a rest. And Pa will Wink at me and say, I think she's earned a dress! -Betty Bunker, '46 FRIENDSHIP When you're in need and do despair, A friend is certain to be there To urge you on anld share with you The things that make you feel so blue. When taibles turn, and he grows grim, Then you can do the same for him, Thus friendship grows from day to day, As one helps ease the other's way. -Ruth Pearson, '46 SCHOOL From early morn 'til way past noon, We pass our time at school. Some children like that way of life, To live by rod and rule. Now sissy girls may choose, I know, To pass their days at school, But boys who are the liveliest, Have different things to do. They'd sit upon the river bank, To swim or maybe fish, Or skate and slide in winter time, Such things they always wish. Oh! Girls can go to school and read, But I'll stay hom-e and play. But boys anld girls are not alike, Thank goodness! I shall say! -Jack Neal, '46 OUR PART Far away on a battlefield Over across the sea, 'l'here's a soldier boy who's lighting .Just Ior you and for me. Somebody's son or sweetheart is lar away from home, ues lighting hard for victory in air, on land, or foam. If he will make this sacrifice, well help while he is gone, We'11 scrimp and save and work and wait And buy and buy War Bond.s! Betty Bunker, '46 POETRY Did you ever have to write a poem? And only had a minute? Did you ever have to scratch your head? And think how to begin it? Well, that's the task I've got to do, And try it as I will, The words won't rhyme or come out right, It just won't fill the bill. So I'll resign unto my fate, Which may be flat D minus, But there's still one hope to which I'll cling- In this job they can't fire us! -Shirley Stedman, '46 HANDS OFF! His hair is brown, his eyes are too, His love for me is true. He gets a thrill when I am near, When I'm away, he's blue. I love him too, in rain and sun, In showers, storm, and fog, But, girls, don't try to cut me out, He's just my airedale dog! Betty Bunker, '46 SONG IN THE NIGHT It was a moonlit summer night, When everything was still. I stood outside to watch the stars, And shadows on the hill. I heard a sounid deep in the wood, A sound no one has heardg It wasn't either man nor beast, I231-

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4..-..-..-.... ---.-- - -- -.... L 11111111111111--nnu1nuue- '!' l l EX LIBRIS 5 1 1 1 1 1 1uu1un.-nn11m1n 1 1 1 1 1 1 THE ROBE by Lloyd Douglas l , The Robe was written by Lloyd C.l Doug'- las. Mr. Douglas was the son of a country parson. Since 1929 he has been writing some of the most successful novels of our genera- tion. Tribune Marcellus Gallio was like any or- dinary young Roman. He had a slave, as was the custom in those days, and all the other things which were considered luxuries. -Since Marcellus had made the Prince of Rome angry, he was sent away to Fort Minoa near Jerusalem. Soon after his arrival there, he was commanded to take a legion of soldiers to preserve peace during the Jewish Passover. Marcellus knew nothing about the Passover except that any Jew who could pos- sibly get there went to eat the Passover . Marcellus began to learn much about these Jews, their customs, faith, and particularly their belief in a Messiah. This information was very puzzling to the youth who had been brought up to believe in all the Roman gods ,and goddesses. He considered this concept of the Jews a superstition. During the Passover there was a great dis- turlbance caused by a man who dared to en- ter the halls and temples of the Roman con- sulates and defy the officials. His name was Jesus. The rioting centered about this: man caused Pilate to condemn him to death by crucifixion. It was Marcellus' duty to see that the official order was obeyed. At the crucifixion, Marcellus had a very peculiar feeling. The look of peace on the victim's face impressed him and refused to leave his mind. After the death of the .strang- er, the intoxicated Marcellus tossed dice with his soldiers and won the robe which Jesus had worn. Even after Marcellus' return to Minoa, he couldn't forget the man he had executed. stories about Jesus' ability Now there were to heal and cure the sick. Certainly it must but was it? Always the be superstition, question ate into his brain. - --nu-uu-nu--lmxuunznuiun-un1uII1nn1uu1uu-nn1lnu-:lain His term of service at Minoa ended, he re- turned home, a stranger to himself. His whole life was colored by intense mental anguish, uncertainty and regret. All he could think of was that harmless appearing man. Even his visit at home in Rome did not help him to forget. At last to cure his mind, he'decided to go to Athens. The cure came as he began to ibelieve in the Galilean, not in forgetting him. Gradually his interest led him to travel the country miles around to learn ever more concerning Jesus. He met Miriam, the crip- pled girl with the lovely voiceg he heard stories of how the lame and crippled were healed, he listened fascinated to the story of Jesus' feeding the people with loaves and fishes. At first the tales seemed incredible. Continually, he was asking himself the ques- tion, Do I lbelieve? Is it possible? Finally the answer came. Yes, he did be- lieve. He believed so very much that he gave his life for his faith, the faith in Jesus Christ, our Saviour. In my opinion, this is a marvelous book which brings to our minds a vivid portrayal of the world into which Jesus was born, and his affect on that world, and ultimately, on us. 4Keith Cunningham, '44 UHEADHUNTING IN THE SOLOMON ISLANDS Caroline Mytinger A rather strange expedition set out from San Francisco to paint portraits of the primi- tive ne'roids of the Southwest Pacific-in other words, to hunt heads . The artist- author hoped to record permanently the vari- ous features anld distinctions among the Paci- fic islanders. The expedition consisted of the author, Caroline Mytinger, and Margaret Warner, the handyman, who played the uke- lele and slang to the models and amused them as best she could. The young women were not encouraged by parents and friends, but in spite of the opposition, they started. They lacked money for such an exploit, but hoped