House in the Pines High School - Log Yearbook (Norton, MA)

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PITY THE LATIN STUDENT A sophomore Latin student, I And this, I must confess, My tenses, they are all mixed up, Declensions are a mess My conjugations mali sunt' My adjectives are worse Of verb forms, I am Hignoratus To Latin I'm a curse When I translate a Latin phrase cry, O fiat lux But when no illumination comes, I lay aside my text Everyone makes mistakes, I'm told But my errors are so many, That I am quite depress d I guess that I had better stop Burdening you with my sorrow, And drag out the well worn Latin book, To start my lesson for tomorrow Dee Cicma, '49 DESERT SCENE The sand lay shimmering and white under the hot noon day sun Nothing moved across the wide stretches of sand, as far as the eye could see White fluffy clouds eased themselves across the azure blue sky Here and there a black spot in the sky would be seen drifting downward toward the sloping hills beyond Cactus and sage brush dotted the desertand tried to live on what water Mother Nature had given them A herd of cattle was slowly moving across the hot sand, leaving a thick cloud of dust behind and above them Their feet stamping the earth as if a storm were coring up Nancy Stafford, '49 D O N I U H F O I V! I1 , I I uErrare humanum estn e . C O I - O I J . D 0 1 l

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gathering this and that After getting herself together, she walked slowly down the stairs. She paused on the landing, and looking down at Carl, she forgot the effective smile that she was going to give him She wondered why such a man of the world should ever condescend to take her out? Hi, Carl ' She came down the rest of the stairs more quickly than she had planned. 'Uh, oh, hi Sally Then a long silence Suddenly, Carl was aware that he had a package in his hand 'Here, Sally shoved the package toward her She opened it with surprise and folnd an orchid, her first one She pinned it on with trembling fingers and tried not to let him know that this was her first date Just as they were about to leave, the telephone rang in the hall, and Sally could hear her mother's voice saying, nHello Who? Who? Junie'n The name meant nothing to Sally, but she noticed that Carl's smlle was fading and his face growing red der motner went on UNO, you mzst have the wrong number Yes, he's here What Oh, he left the tickets, huh Mrs Jones laughed 'His first date, you say? well, now Sally save a l1ttle laugh without meanlnv to But Carl did look a little deflated She knew now that it was going to be a wonderful evening after all Mary Jane Stanley, THE SEA Far reaching waters are the symbols of ambitions Ships vanishing on unknown missions, Bringing foreign cargoes from unfamiliar places Crewed by seamen with evil looking faces, A vision of a pirate ship etched on the sun, Gives memories of fierce battles once won, Sailboats racing close to a sand bar, Viniature rowboats seen from afar, All these become the mystery of the sea, All these become a part of me Barbara Green, '49 n C On I . .U He I D - My daughter's name is Sally, not Junie. ---- Oh, you want Carl-:-- Q it 11 Q Iii xiln.-1 . - '47 X l

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SCIENCE ADVANCES AN RETREATS In the slap happy, blissfully ignorant days of my youth and I refer to the morris thirties coal was a word we used when mentioning, and this was not often, the small black lumps which we burned in our furnace Milk was used as a liquid refresh ent, and cotton served as an excellent material for our clothing Life was quite simple then I had my first experlence with science the day someone carelessly remarked that paper was made of wood This weird revelation puzzled me for days, but I soon decided that it was a bit more convenient than papyrus CWe were having the Egyp- tians in third grmghistory I Several years passed and I was quite used to paper, when my father happily announced to me that my mother's new stock ings had been made out of coal and air I was completely stunned The thing had gone entirely too far! How, I would ask myself in the seclusion of my own small room how could they possibly mix coal, which was there, with air, which wasn't? It so happens that I hail from Rhode Island, but I do like to I saw no reason why people should worry about coal and air, when there were such beautiful silk stockings available. At length, though, World War II removed nylons entirely from my life I would no longer steal into my mother's bedroom to finger the materials for many hours, telling myself over and over again, that it was coal The nylon situation was well in hand But now, that startling post war world looms in the near future and, I confess, I dread it I lie awake at night, haunted by those new discoveries I read of cloth made of milk, or fish, and houses and cars made of soy beans. It's the soy beans that bother me most They're such ridiculous little things! There does seem to be a way out, however Wood, I under stand, is now being made from pressed paper None of your old trees! You may recall my mentioning before that paper is made from wood My theory is this Science has finally run out of ideas, and will now devote its efforts to the reconversion of paints to milk, houses to soy beans, fabrics to glass, etc I predict that ten years will find us in nice homey, wooden houses, drinking milk and eating fish, with, maybe, a soy bean sandwich just for old t1me's sake - Marjery Davison, '48 have visible proof of a thing before I accept it. And besides,