Kennebunk High School - Rambler Yearbook (Kennebunk, ME)

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Now for the night table. I suppose that it is about time to 'take down the little Christmas tree that is standing on it. It's only January 14th- I could leave it there for a few more da.ys-No, I think it would be better if I take it away now. Huh! I didn't know my little Panda was behind the tree. I'm glad I found it: I've had that Panda ever since I was a little girl and I wouldn't want to lose it. Oh-oh, my bureau! I wonder what this box is here on top? There's nothing in it-no sense in keeping it, I gues-s. Wait a minuteg that is the box my bracelet came in. I'll have to keep it, just for memories. I suppose I should clean my jewelry boxg I might want to find some jewelry in a hurry some day. Here's a pin Dad got for me at a hockey game one winter: it won't do any harm to keep it. What is my good string of pearls that Wawie gave me doing in here? They should be in their own box. Oh, here's the pin Barb gave me when I was a little girl. It's not very valuable, but I guess I'll keep it. What a homely pair of earrings! Wou!dn't you know that they are what my relatives would pick out for me? This is rather tiresome. It won't hurt me to hunt around a little when I come to get some jewelry. Here is a star from the decorations at one of our socials at school last year-or was it two years ago? I'll keep it. and sometime when I have some Scotch tape I'll put it up on the wall. Well, what do you know! Here is the scarf that Mom has been looking for. Who would have thought that it would be in my room, on my bureau? Here is the little lamp Hash-light that Dad was going to fix for me to take to camp. It still doesn't work, so I guess that he never got around to it. I'll just flick the dust-cloth over the top, so that I can say that I dusted it, and put the things back. Now for my dressing-ta-ble, and then I'm through. I'll give this pin back to Motherg I didn't need to use it for a Christmas gift after all. I don't want it cluttering up my table. Phew, w-hat terriible smelling per- fume! Oh, I know: it is the two perfumes that Dad mixed together for an experiment. I guess I won't throw it awayg it may smell better as time goes on. I don'-t see why I insist on keeping all these bottle-s of cheap perfume: still, thev make the dressing-table look better. I think I'll keep them a little while longer. I never noticed this lip-stick on here before. It's my pink one, that I lost. Oh darn. it is only the top of the tube! I still sav the dog ate the rest of it. I don't like these powder boxes because they spill powder all over everything. This mirror top really should be washed off 3 but I don't -have time, so I'll just dust it. I don't think there is any need of cleaning off the stool to the table. T told Mom that I would put these summer things away for the winter, but the winter is almost over now. There isn'-t very much anyway-'two cotton dresses, shorts, a couple of shirts, a few scarves, a crew hat, and a bathing suit. Well, at last I'm through! I will admit that the room looks neater, but I think that it lacks character. ASTRID BRIDLE, '50. 23

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ag ,-X ' Q 4 45 J . 'alla -I CLEAN-UP TIME Humph! I suppose if I must clean my room, I must although I can't see why Mom is so insistent. I'll admit that the room isn't too neatg it just looks as though it were well-lived in. Personally, I don't see the need of touching anything. I guess t-he best place to start is my desk. I may as well put this chemistry book on the bottom shelfg 1'll never look at it again. What's this? My pen! 1've practically haunted the school office hunting for it, never even suspecting that it might be up here.-For goodness' sake, here is a piece of ribbon from the corsage I had for the play 5 I certainly don't want to throw that away. I don't think there is any need of keeping these old English papers, so I'l1 throw them out. What's this in the waste-basket? A newspaper picture of the '47 Track Team. Who t-hrew that away? 'I most certainly want it. Mother says there is no need of all these pictures on the desk, especially as they are all of the same person. She says I can't concentrate with them there. W-hat a silly idea! I guess I'll leave them. Here are a lot of old letters that were written to me while I was at camp three summers ago. I may as well save themg they will be funny when I am older- I should say my desk is all right, nowg at least one can see the blotter! 1'll just take this quilt, my puff, the bedspread the dog sleeps on whenever she spends the night on the foot of my bed, my reading pillow, my bed-jacket, and these Hallowe'en decorations off the chair. Someone. might want to sit down on it sometime. I'1l admit that up to now it has been impossible. 22

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TWILIGHT Twilight on my street is the most attractive time of day. The gay' windows seem to reflect a scarlet forest fire as the ruby sun sinks beyond the pale horizon. The -long, d-ull grey shadows stand like dark soldiers on duty before the entrance of night. These tall, dark sentries nod their heads in sympathy as a soft, gentle wind sighs the last breath of a warm spring day. Soon the scarlet reflection from near by windows is barely noticeable as the black curtain of night closes over a picturesque scene. Presently, familiar objects make ghostly shadows with huge shapes. From the distance I hear the humming of car motors as they happily sing on their -homeward journey. Through an open window the soft rustle of feathers and the farewell cries of birds, as t'hey nestle down to a deep sleep, echo the sighs of the wind. The yellow lights snap suddenly into view and the twilight disappears. Cheery voices echo through the night, welcoming the la-borers home. Their voices remove from mind the death of a day lost forever. JUDITH LEECH. --.... -..i..01,-l THE I-IOUSIE i There is a clearing in a wood. In the clearing is a house, a large hou-se. Once it had many people living in itg it-s driveways were full of cars, and there were many gay parties. The house was contented then. It felt that it was a success. But the people and the cars have long since gone from the house and forgotten about itg they have boarded up its doors and left it alone. The house is sad and frightened. When a lone walker passes through the clearing on his Way to other matters, the house watches him silently. lt hates him for his freed-om. There is a dark and lonely hill -behind the house. Once the people had a fruitful orchard there. Now the trees are old and gnarle-d. The wind whistles derisively through them on its way to the sea: which the house can just glimpse over the tops of the gaunt, and lonely pines as it stands on its crumbling foundations. The sneering fungus h-as crept up the sides of the house, the rust has torn its shutters from the windows, and the rot has eaten away the once proud veranda. The wee-ds and wild things, that have taken over the lawns, jeer at the house for i-ts helplessness. Years and seasons pass, and the same pall of death and utter loneli- ness hangs over the clearing. -Still it is my favorite place, and I often sit among the weeds and talk to the house. But it never answers 'because it despises me and the weeds and the crying gulls, wheeling overhead, and everything that is alive and free. U NAN DOW, '52, .-T-1?0- i-Q-1 FOOL'S GOLD Before him stretched acres of green grass, thick and just high enough to hide his feet. He stretched his neck searchingly, shook his head dazedly. Gingerly he stepped out toward the center of the fieldg then as he picked up speed, he became lost amongst the scores of other paloimino colts. Four men had observed the colt's action. One was singular in ap- pearance, wearing 'blue-jeans, denim shirt, and a broad tan hat. He 24