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

Page 24 text:

PRIVATE CORRESPONDENCE By Ardith Smith Peggie Darling, I'm simply bubbling over with news- about me, of course-and it's so thrilling I can't type it fast enough. Woe is me! Now I wish I'd been good and learned my keys the way Miss Wallace told me to. But, you know me-the original bug-a-boo. You remember me telling you about getting two bids to the Lynn Prep School Victory Dance and not knowing which one to accept? Well, that's settled, Bud FINALLY asked me! Tomorrow night's the big night, and I can hardly wait! Honest, Peggie, I'm more excited over this dance than I was over in first formal-and that's saying a lot, isn't it? You know, I think I have a bad case of it and That Ain't Good.. fSong title-but it fitsl Of course, I have a new dress, and is it a honey! Woo! Woo! There was an awfully cute yellow one at our pet shop, but Bud says I remind him of the angel who didn't use Rinso when I wear yellow, sow naturally, that was out. This is a pale blue chiffon and, as you've probably guessed already, blue IS his favor- ite color. Bul-you will have to admit-it is my best color too, so-no wise cracks, please. It has a long waist-line and, modest as I am, I must admit I look like a million bucks in that type of a dress. It has an extremely full skirt which is gathered on the long- walst line just below the hip bone. The neckline is high and gathered, while the sleeves are long and fairly full. Velvet bows of a deeper shade of blue are scattered in a hit-and-miss maner over the skirt. My slippers make me feel just like Cin- derella, even though IIERS were of glass wear my sweetheart locket on a ribbon of wear my swetheart locket on a ribbon of velvet, too. I won't have a corsage. The boys are giving the money they would have spent on flowers to the Red Cross. It real- ly is wonderful, of course, and gives girls a great chance to feel like martyrs of some sort. Well, Hon, it's after 1:00 a. m. and I do need a little beauty sleep-believe it or not Hso I'd better close. Forgive my mistakes - wish me luck - and write soon. All my love, Alice THE GIRLS' GLEE CLUB

Page 23 text:

Olll' Authors ME. MYSELF, AND I By Jean Way I think I am justified in saying that lllc and Myself are my best friends. For. atter all. who sticks with Me through thick or thin as I do? Whenl go out tno matter wht-rel I always take lVIyselt' with llle. May- be it's just a habit. but I'm sure I'd feel lost without Meg and as for leaving Myselt' be- hind. I just wouldnt think of it. Whenever I hear anyone say. Oh, l wish I could have gone, it makes Me very sad, and l think, Well why 4-ouldn't I have gone along? They left Me home, too. II'heneVer I sit down to the table, I al- ways think ol' getting enough tor Myself. which proves that I am not hoggish. And when We are out walking and someone ot'I'e-rs Me a ride. who is happier for Me than I? And I wouldn't think of making Myself walk. either. I always try not to blame Myself for any- thing I have done. The very instant I start concentrating o11 Myself. you can bank on Me doing something I wouldn't think ot' do- ing. For instance. there is the time I was hunting for some eggs that I had laid down. IVell, I blunted Myself, but when I got up there were eggs all over Me. It's ll clear case ot being caught red-handed, isn't it? Egg'-zactly! We generally get along swell together, lzut sometimes people get angry at Me and kick lllv in the pants. and then I feel so bad. I don't know why I had to write this when the assignment was given to Me. SUPPOSE IT WILL EVER END? By Dot Young War is such a ghastly thingw Why must it exist? IH-ople's lives mean nothing then! Suppose it. will ever end '? On the battlefield. men are strewn With their bodies riddled and torn From bullets of the enemies' guns- Suppose it will ever end? Away from home in army camps, Our dear sons and brothers are stationed, Waiting to he called to fight our foe- Suppose it will ever end? Money is scarce and people starve, The world is in darkness for God knows how long. And all the people pray for peace 'I'o God with all their hearts-- Suppose it will ever end? My THE CIRCUS PARADE ON THE SQUARE 21

Page 25 text:

HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS By Sally Packard We were arriving at home for the Christ- mas holidays. The smooth runners of the sled made a crunchy sound on the snow as the spirited chestnut horses pulled us merrily along the road, homeward bound. A merry twinkle was in the eyes of the driver when he heard our laughter ring out in the frosty air. The weather-beaten sled plowed its way through the sifted snow, up hill and down dale. We passed farm houses partially snowed under and all having a peaceful, silent atmosphere about them. Now we were rounding the big curve, dashing across the short, straight stretch with sleigh bells ringing clearly in the snap- py air. The large white farm house, with the green shutters at the many-lighted win- dows, was indeed a pleasant sight. Smoke was curling lazily out of the two huge stone chimneys. Behind the house stood the red barn, half buried -in the newly fallen snow. Two pine trees by the corner of the house, heavily laden with snow, spread their beau- tiful branches as if ln a welcome.. The straight path leading to the front door looked as if it had been shoveled early that morning. .As snow had fallen again, the imprints of tiny feet and dog tracks still lingered on the fresh, shimmering quilt. Jumping from the sled and running to the porch, stamping our feet to keep warm, we could hear Buster's joyous bark inside. No sooner had we reached the door when it was thrown open, and a warm light shone out on us all. In the doorway stood our mother, welcoming us with open arms, THE DRUNK By John Putnam There was a man whose name was Bill Who now and then got drunkg One night he had imbibed too much, And in his thoughts was sunk. He started walking home that night, But couldn't guide his feetg One Wobbly foot was on the walk, And one was in the street. A cop then passed him on his beat. Why, Bill, he said, you're drunk! Thank God for that! then Bill replied. My leg was broke, I thunk! ACCIDENTAL DEATH? By Jean Way A man on his way to Missouri Said, My brain is loaded with worry. He went for a walk Off the end of a dock. Accidental! - or so said the jury. -1 THE ENGLISH CLUB