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

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The Problem of Relief By Frank Rogers Relief has come about in the last five years since President Roosevelt came into office. He was probably influenced a great deal by certain people known in common languages as Seb Sisters . These people are inevitably in the middle class. They feel sorry for the poor people, almost too sorry, in fact. These people are usually fairly well-to-do, but never contribute to the cause in which they are so enthralled. The immigrants are another cause of the increasing number of poor people in the United States. A certain number of immi- grants are admitted into our country every year. They come in the hope of making a fortune in a hurry. But they are wrong, and we know it, yet still we do nothing about lt. Pensions, in a sense of the word, help to do away with relief. In most poor families, there are generally elderly people who are old enough to receive pensions and so help that family to get along. Pensions also help old people who have to retire and would soon have to go to the poorhouse to live. There are many different kinds of pen- sions which are in effect today. For in- stance, the pensions for people sixty-five years or over are now in effect. The rail- roads pension their workers when they reach a certain age. There are many other pensions which are presented to the work- erg these, certain companies exert them- selves to produce. The money spent on pensions within a company is earned by the company through the efforts of the Workers. The money spent on the old age pensions is procured by tax- ing the businesses which employ more than eight people. The people are also taxed a certain amount according to their wages. This is called Social Security. The effects of relief are deteriorating. It forces men and women alike to become dependent on it, and they tend to become lazy. Their attitudes change, and they re- fuse good paying jobs so that they can get something for nothing. In other words, they would rather be on relief, leaning on a shovel, than working for a living. The people who are on relief are not in any position to strike, although in some ln- stances they do. When they strike, they de- stroy property, and a. number of people are often killed. The strikes really do not help the people, but hinder them because they lose money in wages. The number of people on relief ls un- known to me, but there are a great number even in our own town. In some instances, families who ask for relief need it less than others. Some are too sensitive to appeal to the town for relief. In cities today, you see children stand- ing on street corners begging. They were probably sent there by their fathers and mothers to get money for some of the luxur- ies for a dilapidated home. Some receive a basket of groceries to take to the imaginary baby who is starving at home. The children under this influence will no doubt become the country's future criminals and paupers. And what do we expect of these children who are brought up in this manner? We certainly expect too much of them. Government odicials say we are in re- lief to stayg and, with this in mind, the American youth probably faces the greatest problem of many a century. 438' Autumn Dresses By Marian Nelson In the autumn, the leaves don their best party dresses and have a two-months holi- day. They resemble the female sex of man in the way each endeavors to secure the prettiest dress. Some, finally, are clad in gold dresses, bright orange dresses, scar- let dresses, in a gold blouse and green skirt, or in a crimson blouse and gold skirt. No- where in the excited crowd is there seen anyone wearing a house-dress of solid green. The lack of tailored, black-and-white es- corts does not influence the joy of the gayly clad merrymakers. Instead, they all have but one escort, the ever-reckless breeze. No one is jealous because he takes turns mak- ing love to and dancing with the throng. They merrily follow in his wake, dipping, turning, bowing, and skipping. At last, for- saken by their playful lover for a new flame, they slowly and gracefully wind their way downward, to sleep forever on Mother Nature's most prized possession, her green, downy carpet.

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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

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THE HOULTON HIGHSTER COMMITTEE Back row, left to right: Ireland tmgr.J Milbery. Stewart, Hawkes fasst. ed.J, Henderson, Griffin, Clarkg front row: Friel, Ingraham, Tilley ieditorl, Adler, Macllroy. The Cathedral By Joseph Mullen The bells in the tower peal the hours- one, two, three, four, five. Five o'clock! Al- ready the rays of the summer S1111 stream through the windows of the east transept, falling horizontally across the great altar canopy, o11ly to vanish into nothingness in the corners of the opposite transept. But we cannot yet see clearly about us. The ever-increasing light presents us with ever- changing impressions. Now we feel our- selves as if in a great forest. The heavy pillars are the trunks of the trees. Above our heads, they break into the twining branches of the high vaulting. Above the branches hangs the dense foliage, through which only an occasional clearstory window admits light. But soon the sun disillusions us, presenting us with a scene of which na- ture clearly was not the architect. Rather are we in a paradise which represents the inspiration of an artist. When the dying rays of the crimson sun Merge in the wooded glen, It veils the earth with radiance- God's hand-wrought diadem. Merle Hawkes How to Teach a Dog To Bark By Dorothy Wood The first thing to do, to teach a dog to bark, is to procure the dog. Then pinch his feet or tail, and he will give a very undigni- fied yap. If you want a dignified bark, give the dog a bone and then take it away. If this doesn't work and he still continues to yap, a professor fpreferably an English pro- fessorl might be hired to teach him. Of course, the dog, like many pupils, may be a very stupid creature and slow to learn. In that case. it would be best to send him to a university where he would learn how to bark. Another scheme might be to show him a cat and then start the cat in the direction of a tree. This will always work. and the dog will immediately give forth a burst of barks of the highest quality-if there is such a variety. lt is no fun to write a poem VVheu you are not a poet. So when you 1'ead this little verse, You will doubtless know it. -Helen Fortier 'i , ,, l.4