Houlton High School - North Star Yearbook (Houlton, ME)

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War By Gwen McGrew The flare of bugles, the beat of drums! The soldier thrills to his country's callg His head held high, he joyful comes, While the Stars and Stripes wave over all. Still gallant and gay, he goes forth to duty, Goes forth to war, some nation to save. While homeland fades in all its beauty, He faces, gladly, foe and grave. When years have passed, and war is done, Home the valiant warrior comesg But see! he's crippled, his course 'most run, And now there are no stirring drums. The boys are back! But what do they End? No work, no money, depression, and vice! And some are maimed, and some are blind, And some there are whose hearts are ice. If this is war, and what it brings, Then down with war, and let come peace! So out with the bugle, and let it sing The sweetest song, Let conflict cease! Clouds By Barbara Perry I love to watch those fleecy mists Glide slowly through the sky, I love to see them turn and twist, Then fade out by and by. One time, there came an angry bear, So big and black and gruff, He seemed to bristle every hair, Then raised his nose to snuff. The rain came down in torrent streams, The bear stood up and roared, His big eyes flashed like lightning beamsg Then the sun came out once more. The fleecy clouds once more rolled ong The song birds hummed a tune, The bear in the sky was wholly gone On this lovely day in June. Mr. Porter: What is a circle? Student: A circle is a point with a line around it. A Champion Team By Tom Popham Bossie, in his childhood days, Used to think of various playsg Now his eyes are for the basket, He shoots with accuracy fantastic. Ruth, with his light and curly hair, Down the floorboards he does tearg He thinks of Irma in her seat. The coach says, With Irma, we can't be beat. Mason, Don, with his serious face, After the ball he sure does chase, Into the basket he does shoot. A girl in the bleachers says, He's cute! Next comes 'tWilley , straight and tall, Willey too is after the ball. In his corner, pale, he stands, Waiting to lend a helping hand. Albert Donovan, he's so tall, That he can reach half up the wall To get the rebound, which is best, To pass to Bossie to do the rest. You have to hand it to coaches and men Who made the team, so it may again Win a championship to hang on the wall, In the great old game of basketball! Hunting By Everett Gardner A hunter needs patience, endurance, and skill. Not many hunters can get very near wild game without making a noise. Not many hunters can travel all day and still travel soundlessly and patiently. To be a good hunter, you have to be able to en- dure cold weather and long tramps through the woods. You must be able to go through the woods without making any noise and be able to shoot and shoot straight at a mo- ment's notice. If the agriculture teacher were unmar- ried and young like the two boys from the U. of M., all the girls would take agricul- ture.

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THE HOME ECONOMICS CLUB Left to right, top to bottom: Nason, Rourkes, McCormack, Miller, Bell, March, Lincoln, Kinney, Callnan, Anderson, Neal, Gerrish, Bates, Callnan, Card, Johnson, McMonigle, Adams, McKenzie, McLaughlin, McMonigle, Bragan, Myshrall, Mclntyre. McQuarrie, Conlogue, Pringle, Miss Fowles. Crossing Bridges By Lawrence Tilley Crossing bridges is fun. Whether they be large metal structures or merely little log platforms, they equally produce in one the great desire-to reach the other side. As the traveler approaches a huge sus- pension bridge with all its long cables and towers 1'eaching up into the sky, he feels an emotion of smallness surge Within him. As he starts out across the spacious straight Way With the opposite end a mere pin point in the distance, he feels safe. A real pleas- ure is his When the pin point in the distance. all of a sudden, looms into reality. The bridge has been conquered. Around the curve on a little dusty road stands, weather-beaten but faithful, a pine- board covered bridge. Its black entrance beckons the traveler to its mysteries, and he enters. As he walks over the boards, they rattle and rumble and create a fear of falling through. But bright light outside again revives him, and he feels ashamed of that suspense as he crossed. Once more, a simple bridge controlled the emotions of man. In times of long ago, men crawled over a log to cross a deep chasm, in the present age, men speed across mighty spans of steel. But in either case, every person who crosses a bridge will feel that it is telling him something, that it is c1'eating in him varied emotions, and that, though put there for his use, it is something bigger than he is. 1il Fire By Charles Hannigan Angry red flames lick their lips, pre- paratory to partaking in the dessert of their costly meal. Firemen play a futile stream of Water upon the burning roof, Which, upon receiving the liquid, hisses and roars, then continues to burn with undiminished fer- ocity. From within, a dark cloud of smoke billows forth. The great barn sways and totters on its fire-eaten foundation, then slowly crumbles and, with a great roar, col- lapses. Once more, man's greatest helper has rebelled.

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Youth By Jeannette Berry About the middle of September, the last school bell to be awakened from its summer sleep has begun to ring again. A little hand- bell sounding from the schoolhouse steps, or a big bell clanging from the tower, it an- nounces that Young America has settled down for another term of study. Those bell notes make us sense again the unforgetable aroma of the schoolroom-fragrance of apples mingled with the print-and-paper odor of brand new schoolbooks, the smell of freshly varnished desks blending with the scent of flowers on the teacher's desk. This year, as usual, some go as small children, led by their mothers to their first timid ex- perience of that strange place. Some a little older are seasoned school kids , speculat- ing about the new prof -we have heard that he is a despot, a tyrant, and a martinet. We come this year, thirty millions of us -almost every fourth person in the land- twenty-five percent of the American nation -not counting a million teachers-all back in school. In truth, we never have been away. Vacation also was a school. And what is more, we never can get away. The boy plays hockey, but he has only run away to an- other schoolg when he plays hockey at fifty, he still finds that to be true. There is no dodging the universal schoolmaster. The impatient student drops his schoolbooks for a .job, and discovers that factory, store, or office is but another classroom, and not so ready to help you, either. This reminds us that we all think that We are being overworked. We go to French class, for instance, and Madame Briggs says, I want to see everybody take his French book home tonight. Of course, this little speech was direct- ed at the boys. Girls always take their French home and know their lesson the next day--someone has to keep the class going. The dismissal bell rings. Every boy takes his French book from his desk and and puts it on top of the rest of his books. He immediately proceeds down the stairs and walks by Mrs. Briggs' room very slow- ly. She sees the book and smiles. She goes on with her work and thinks that she will have a good recitation tomorrow, anyway. Poor lady, what a disappointment! The boy then proceeds to the basement and puts the French book in his locker. The book is for- gotten until he calls for it to take up past Mrs. Briggs' room again. Madame is sitting outside of her door, and smiles when she sees the boy with the French book. and says, Avez-vous etudie votre lecon, Monsieur? Of course, he smiles rather sheepishly and answers meekly, Oni, Madame. To learn all that you can of what now is known, and use it so intelligently that new knowledge may come to mankind's relief- that is the counsel of the morning school bells and the afternoon school bells and the night-school bells, pealing from 250,000 schoolhouses over this land. Mining Commas in Dyer Brook By Hacker Putnam Mining commas is one of the greatest in- dustries of this country. The leading sec- tion where commas are mined is in Dyer Brook, a large manufacturing and mining town in Maine. . To mine commas, one must take an ex- clamation point and drive it into the ground, then withdraw the exclamation point and take a question mark. Invert the question mark and lower it into the hole. Pull the question mark out and probably there will be a comma on the hook of the mark. If this fails, drag two or three periods into the mine. This will cause combustion and soon two or three commas will bounce out. When the commas are mined, they are put in trains and shipped to schools. The commas are unloaded, and then the teachers try to get the students to use them. Try and do it! On Memorial Day Here's to the bodies across the seag They fought to save democracy. Their graves are bloody battle grounds, Their sermon-war's most gruesome sounds. Here's to the day that's set aside In memory of those men who died. They're all in our proud hearts set down As heroes brave, of world renown. -Maurice . Frlel