Hermon High School - Microphone Yearbook (Hermon, ME)

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The MICROPHONE 21 ONE-ACT PLAY First row: C. Violette, Mr. Dwyer, C. Thayer. Second row: P. Leathers, L. I yer, V. Lord. CHEERLEADERS First row: S. Lindsey, M. Kitchen, L. Booker. Second row: N. Hackett, R. Bemis, L. Kitchen.

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20 The MICROPHONE STUDENT COUNCIL First row: D. Hillman, M. Light, C. Andrews, Mr. Dwyer, M. Kitchen, PL Hates, G. Brown. Second row: C. Grant, R. Campbell, C. Tapley, H. Woodard, R. Mason, G. McKay, G. Young, K. Wilson, I). Robinson. JUNIOR EXHIBITION First row: G. Young, G. Lovley, M. Willey, M. Bragg. Second row: B. Griffin, A. Smith, J. Simpson, C. Violette.

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22 The MICROPHONE Literary Because of limited space we are extremely sorry that we were unable to use the longer of the excellent short-stories contributed by the Junior English class. A CROW HUNT The crow hunt had been my suggestion. It was almost too fine a day to think of killing anything, but when a black outlaw in the form of a crow sounds his querulous call from an elm outside one’s window every morning for a week, it sets one to thinking murderous thoughts. “Where’ll we go?” asked Tom, as we started out. “How about back of the old stage road,” I suggested. “O.K.” said Tom. Soon we turned into the narrow old stage road, parked the car, and squeezed under the fence. “I hear one,” whispered Tom. I didn’t hear a sound for awhile. “Ca-ca-caw-caw,” came from a pine in the corner of the woods. “That old fellow has told every crow' with- in hearing. We may as w'ell pick up and go,” I said. A mile or so farther on we stopped to listen and look. At first we w'alked quietly along and enjoyed the beauties of the day. Flowers were beginning to blossom, hepaticas, violets, and trilliums. The sea- son’s song and a little yellow warbler flitted in and out among the trees along the brook. We sat listening to the murmur of the clear, foamy water tumbling over a rocky dam. Soon I heard the w histle of an oriole, and I began to answer him. Finally we saw him peering down through the new' leaves of an elm tree. Sitting there in the bright green foliage, he surely was a beautiful sight. His orange and black coat glistened as if it too w’ere new. Suddenly we heard the caw of a crow, which brought us back to the purpose of our jaunt. We eased through the woods, I giving a good imitation of a young crow in distress. Crows dived through the leaves from all directions. We opened fire. I missed with the first shot, but the second was more accurate; I could hear Tom blazing away. “You missed him by a mile!” I shouted, as a scared but unhurt crow flopped frantic- ally away between two pines. Our next stop was at the edge of a swamp. Tom saw' a big crow' in the very top of an elm. We tried to make him fly nearer, but he must have been an old-timer and sus- picious of us, because he flew disdainfully away. However, suddenly a whole flock of crow's came along. The air was full of crow's, darting, diving, crossing the clearing until our guns were smoking hot. “How many did you get?” asked Tom. “Five, 1 guess. How many for you?” “I have four,” he replied. “Well, aren’t you glad I suggested this crow’ hunt?” “It surely has been a fine day. We’ll do it again,” Tom answered. Denvood Hillman '50 A CLOSE CALL Today, February 17, 1950, we find our- selves at the Armory in Newport. The hall is filled with spectators. Probably there are six hundred. On the floor are two teams warming up.