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

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the end of the road. He quickened ls steps as he drew nearer home. This was the mo- ment he had waited for during the hard tedious work-the close of day. What I Think of Mid-Years By Phylllaa Hardy I think that we could very easily get along without mid-year's tests. For a great many people, however, this Is the only time of year when any thought is given to lessons Perhaps it is for the benefit of these people that the teachers stay awake wracking their brains for catchy questions. The schedule on examination day seems to please everyone. The only thing that could improve it would be no school at all, but then there would be no examinations. Tests are considered a great help ln rank- ing the student. However, lt would be much easier for everyone if the pupil were judged by his response ln class. Take, for example, the teacher. She would have no tests to make out and correct. Consider the student. Worry before and after the test would be abolished. Examinations are a flxed part of the school's activities. Who am I to upset a carefully made program? Who would let me, anyway? Ears By T. Donovan God has given ears to all of us. If they're ugly and Irregular, there's nothing we can do-except to cover them with hair, if we are girls. Which type of ears ln the following paragraph adorn the upper part of your anatomy? First, there are the stiff ears, which snap back into place, when you bend them. Then there are the soft, flabby ears, which flop about pliantly. Some men have large, ele- phant-llke ears, while others possess incon- spicuous little radios of the mind. The ears of a professional ringster remind one of a pancake with boils. There are also the wing- like ears, that flap violently against the head on a windy day, and there are the opposite type, the kind that snuggle close to the head and try to hide themselves In the hair. ance, at times they are valuable. The young boy who has to wash behind his ears every morning sees no advantage in them, but the man or woman who wears glasses llnds ears convenient hooks on which to hang their double windows. The time when ears seem to be the worst nuisance to me is on a cold day. They're awkward things to cov- er. My ears and my nose always vie with each other to see which can become the red- der and colder. My ears always win but my nose puts up a good battle. I cover my ears with my gloves until they are warm and comfortable. Then, when I take my hands away, they get twice as cold as before. I've often wondered why we have two. Wouldn't it be more practical to have one large, round one on top of one's head? It would be easier for a barber, using the clip- pers, and much easier to cover on a cold day. A cauliflower ear would be a thing of the past. However, the ear situation could be worse. We could have more than two. Scotchman's Lament By Tom Donovan I went to see the Doc one day- Was feeling very bad. He charged flve dollars for the call. I'm dying now, by gad! Limerick By Tom Donovan There was an old lady named Ruffle, Who thought that she'd try the new shuffle She started to jyve And, oh man alive, She lost her false teeth in the scuffle! The Hawk By Maria Putnam When we come up the stairs at noon, We dare not stop to talk, For Mister Marsh stands at his door, Watching us like a hawk.

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blem. One prominent man said, lt must be stopped! Yes, it must be stopped, but how? The answer is, in my estimation, give them work. After all, the retention of de- mocracy and the extermination of crime will rest on their shoulders in just a few years. Prepare them in the best way: build them up so that they will be ready for their forthcoming responsibility. In order to pre- serve the land of the free and the home of the brave. the present generation must be trained to finish on the right side of the law. The Roman Circus By Clifford Plourde Above the roar of the spectator, the air is filled with the rhythmic beat of hoofs, the clang of metal upon metal, and the snap of searching and quivering whips. Onward! Onward! There goes a torrent of gleaming and sweating bodies with flying manes, pur- sued by bouncing and tattered chariots. A corner! A horse trips and falls. Chariots, accompanied by the crackle of breaking wood and the moans and death shrieks of man and beast, meet in a pile among kicking, frenzied animals. Flying wheels and pieces of torn wood cause most of the multitude to scamper for shelter. Even a few horses, having freed themselves from harness and master, gallop towards the horizon. Nostrils, eyes, and bodies are choked, blinded, and covered by a whirlwind of dust that spares nothing. The very air is loathsome with heat and a stomach-evacuating odor of man- gled and sweaty bodies. But a few still re- main fit to go on. The racers force their horses over their fallen companions, who are crushed beneath their horses' hoofs and chariots' wheels. Then, at last, with a shout of triumph, they break through the chaos and go onward, leaving behind them blood and death. The Close of Day By Barbara Ludwig It was dusk. Another day was drawing to Sinking behind the horizon, the its close. sun cast soft shadows over the countryside. An even row of stately trees bordered the winding dusty road and stretched arms to- ward the darkening heavens. A gentle evening breeze fanned the trees and brought with it the fragrant smell of wild flowers in the nearby fields. Winding its way lazily through the countryside, a stream made its journey to the sea. A lone figure trudged wearily homewardg and, as he walked along, hc thought of his family waiting for him at iiiil THE BAND

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GIRLS' H CLUB Front row: Hovey, Hallett, Pope, McGrew, Anderson, Rhoda. Second row: Watson, Bostrom, Steen, Rossignol, Gartley, Miss Adams. Back row: Stephens, Kelley, Kearney, Donovan, Mooers. uCrampie By Margaret Brooks My grandfather is an extraordinary per- son because, in his course of daily travel around the house. he can transform the most tranquil atmosphere into real adventures. He has the ability to carry regular kerosene lamps at the same angle you would carry a flashlight-no harm has been done, but one can't help wondering sometimes. He'll put his head, which seems to be of bone, like other heads, against the roses and the whippoorwills of any wall paper and, alas, ai. big grease spot will appear, and spread. too. lf you're carrying scalding water, he is sure to be one-half step ahead of youg but, should the wood box be empty, he's the little man who wasn't there . Summing up Grampie, I'd say: When he's good, he's very very good, And when he's bad, he's horrid. My Car By Clifford Plourde A car is a very fussy animal made up of many intricate parts. I may add that a car resembles a mule. When you need the use of an automobile, you ean't get it to go- especially on wintry days. I don't know how you start your motor, but this is how I try to start mine. I open the door of the car and hesitate before going on with the next process. Then, fearfully and expec- tantly, I sit down and attempt to soothe my car's feelings. Very gingerly and tenderly I step on the starter. All I get is a deep groan that comes from the very depth of its heart. After giving it a few pleasant demonstra- tions of my thoughtfulness, I again step on the accelerator. This time, the car shakes and sputters with indignation. I become furious at this lack of appreciation and start ehocking it. Some people say that the kind of gas you