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

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THE SUNSET The sun was just beginning to set It bathed the earth with its red gold rays, but by the water pool there was a sudden flash of a brighter red It was the mane of a horse, just visible above he trees the open and it was as if another sun ha appeared, for he was a giant fire red roan stallion He was big, all right, and powerful, but there was about him an air of grace, of aristocracy He held his head high in a klngly fashion It was beautiful, savage head, and the eyes were savage too, alight with an unconquerable love of freedom. Standing there, alert, watchful, he seemed to embody the very spirit of the wild He bent his head to drink, but his ears remained up, constantly straining to catch some sound The sound he waited for was the thunder of hooves, and he waited with good reason, for during the last seven days lt had come every day unfailingly With that sound came man, with his ropes and guns, just as he had come many tiles before, in a vain attempt to capture the big stallion This time he had been nearly successful, and the roan had escaped only by fleeing to this unfamiliar territory Deep in his heart he knew that he had not really escaped at all, but that the men were still behind him He was tired and in an unknown land, yet he awaited his enemy proudly, defiantly, getting what rest he could before the chase began For awhile the earth was peaceful The breeze ruffled the silky red mane and played gently with the sweeping tail Then as a last act of friendship, it brought to the ever testing nostrils the scent they had been waiting for, Man! The stallion snorted, reared Now he could hear faintly those awaited hoof beats His shrill scream of defiance rang through the air to the ears of the oncoming ranchmeng then he whirled and raced away. Swiftly he ran, ever striving to go faster, faster! His wondrous speed and endurance had saved him many tines before, they must do so again. But the men were riding fresh horses, and he was tired. Ordinarily his cunning and his knowledge of the country would have enabled him to outwit them, but now he raced through an unknown land, and fear raced with him. , I N t - 1 I t . And what a horse! He stepped into l d -

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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,

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The sun sank lower, and dusk began to fall The red was straining now, forcing his great legs to keep up their pace, yet as he ran, he was a perfect example of the most beautiful thing on earth, a good horse in full motion Tired as he was, he had a grace and rhythm in his movements that would excite admiration in the coldest heart The men behind him, however, thought only of his great money value, and drove on mercilessly, unmoved by the beauty and spirit of the animal As the roan, unable to turn, sped into a mountain passage, they smiled They knew what lay ahead The stallion did not know He raced on, forcing his every step, his great coat wet with sweat and his nostrils flaring If only he could find some refuge! His eager eyes took in all about him, but saw no hope Then the friendly breeze brought to him another scent It was the smell of water and trees The roan's ears pricked up, his tired muscles found new strength If he could reach a woods, he could lose these relentless pursuers If only he could reach a woods The men were beginning to gain now Slowly, surely, they moved nearer But the stallion drove himself on, ever closer to that maddening smell Would he reach it? Could he reach it? With a final burst of speed he swept around a curve and flashed across a clearing, only to rear and stop There was his were his trees, green and inviting on the other side of the water But between himself and the woods and the creek there was empty air The stallion was standing on the edge of a high cliff, which had a sheer drop of fifty feet to the rocky creek below The men were coming nearer now, uncoiling their lariats as they rode Their shouts were jubilant, for their prize had no way of escaping, he was cut off The stallion glanced about him, taking in with one sweeping look all the wild beautiful country he so loved, never again would he roam through it freely, capering and prancing with the mere joy of life He ran a little way toward the men, and his scream of defiance cut through the air for a second time Then he whirled and raced toward the edge The horrified ranchers watched the great flanks gather and heave, then the flame red body was hurtling out over the cliff edge, out and out till it seemed it must take wings and fly Then it began to drop, down, down, down The men turned homeward in the deepening dusk They had failed, and they would never have another chance No human hand would ever ruffle the silky mane once touched so gently by the wind The sun was just sinking behind the mountains A last few red rays remained, but in the creek, swept quickly along by the rushing current, there was a sudden flash of bright red It was the mane of a horse, just visible above the water - Shirley Ann Fay, '48 water, a wide, turbulent creek filled with jagged rocks. There