Lincoln Middle School - Lincolnian Yearbook (Portland, ME)

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TPIIE I.lNCOI.NlAN Thirteen Probably the three thousand people who stood up had the same feeling of sadness. As she sat down we noticed that her guide kept her Fingers moving on her arm. This was the guide's way of conveying to Helen Keller what the master of ceremonies was saying by way of introduction. As she did her part that night every man and woman sat almost spellbound. Not a murmur or a whisper lest one miss even zt small part of it. This is what Helen Keller said: 'I was touched when educa- tors asked me to say a word to them and I must first say it was Anne Sullivan who gave me this privilege by imagining herself in my place and gave to me life and spirit which are so necessary to a happy heart. It is a revelation to me to know how students and teachers advance together full of hope for the future. To do this I know students must investigate life. Teachers today are doing so much to unify complex knowledge and to do this there must be kindness, cooperation. respect for fellow men, and lastly, they must remember to make every effort to grow in Gods image and likeness' This was the extent of her talk but, of course. these words came very slowly and very hard and not so clearly. but we sat at attention. 'If you were to have one wish granted. what would it be?' and h answer was, 'I would wish only for world peace and brotherhood From the nottbook of Mrs Roland E Stevens Brviiui STI vi N9 Dlx A 8 SPRING How I like the sweet spring air How glad I am that spring is here The little birds in their nests cry While larger birds around them ily The gardens are planted row by row, The farmer's no longer afraid of snow: The grass grows up all tall and green, And flower blossoms can be seen. The cows and sheep are having fun: They're out-of-doors and on the run. I-low happy is the month of May, For spring is here and here to stay. Qi Her guide asked her several questions and the last one was: ' .. .st X 'ttf RAYMOND NADEAU. Div, N-7. er

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Twelve THE LINCOLNIAN green Alpine cap with a grey feather tipped with red. She purchased it and felt elated until she saw Joan Dixon of THE Dixons wearing an exact duplicate of hcr hat. This disturbed her a bit but it was the last straw when Martha Brown and Kathryn Ross wore duplicates of her very hat to school the next day. She was so exasperated that her new hat didn't appear out on Easter. BARBARA GOLDTHWAIT. Div. D-8 BUYING A NEW HAT - A MAN'S IDEA Mrs. Jones was all of a flutter. She was going to get a new hat. Not one of these extravagant affairs but just a plain. ordinary hat. After a half hour of critically surveying hats in the Hat Shop she finally decided on one. Outside the wind began to transform the calm day into a minia- ture hurricane. When Mrs. Jones emerged from the shop and started to walk along the street, her hat was gently lifted ol? her head by Mr. West Wind. It flew through the air like a glider but, alas. it landed under the wheels of an oncoming automobile and the poor hat was Battened like a pancake. Of course, Mrs. Jones tixed the hat as well as she could, but it still looked like a last year's crow's nest. She put it on for protection because it looked like rain. Then she went into the five-and-ten-cent store to resume her shopping. She went into the store a perfect specimen of a sad human but she came out very happy and cheerful. Why? Because she had heard remarks in the store about what a beautiful hat she was wearing. Now I think that if any woman wants a hat that is stylish. she should just take an old hat, make some dents in it, punch a few holes in it and stick a feather on it somewhere. Then she will be sure to have one of the most stylish hats in town. JOHN RICKER. Div. F-8 HELEN KELLER My mother was present at the meeting of the School Adminis- trators in Atlantic City last February when Helen Keller spoke. She took full notes and these are well worth passing on to the readers of this magazine. Of course we were all eager to see Helen Keller in person. and as the dignitaries came onto the platform we strained our eyes to see which one could be Helen Keller. We could not seemingly find her and whisperings about the auditorium told us that everyone else was searching for her. After the first part of the program, a tall, dis- tinguished person entered on the arm of a very kindly looking person. but which of the two could be the blind one? As they approached. the audience stood in a moment of respect for one who through mis- fortune had conquered.

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Fourzeen THE LiNcoLNmN THE FLYING DUTCHMAN The sun was shining on the small white capped waves that the off-shore breeze was kicking up. The Old Sailor sat on an overturned trawl tub mending a net. I had just arrived from the city to spend the summer at the little Hshing village. Nothing had changed since the year before, not even the Old Sailor. Will you tell me another true story about the sea? I asked. Why, sure, my lad, I'll be glad to, he replied. So I sat down on an empty lobster trap and waited while the Old Sailor took two or three stitches in the net. Well, it was like this, he began. When I was about eighteen, I signed up as cabin boy on a bark by the name of Star of the Sea. We sailed out of New York to Liverpool and when we reached Liverpool we took on a cargo for Australia. In those days we had to sail down the Coast of Africa, and it was the stormy season at that. When we were about halfway down the coast we ran into thick weather. It was rough and the barque sprang a leak. We had to pump day and night. It was thick fog all the time and the crew began to grumble. 'It's about time we saw the Flying Dutchman and that will settle us,' said one of them. 'What's thatf' I asked. Remember. I was only eighteen and hadn't been around much. Well, I soon found out, for before the fellow could answer me, we heard a shrill whistling noise such as no one in this world ever made. It made your blood freeze in your veins and your hair stand on end. There she was-a full-rigged ship beating to windward of us. She was covered with barnacles and seaweed and her sails were in rags. but she went by so fast that it seemed as though our own ship was standing still, Away she went in the fog. 'XVe'll either be in Davy Jones's Locker by morning unless the wind shifts,' the crew told me. 'Pray. boy, as you never did before.' And believe me, I did. About midnight it cleared up and we got a fair wind abeam. By morning we were scudding down the coast like thc Dutchman himself. 'Chips,' the carpenter aboard the ship. had gotten the leak plugged somehow and things were a lot better every way. I kept at the boys in the crew about the Ghost Ship till they told me about it, although I could see that they dicln't want to. It seems a Dutch captain bound home from the Indies met bad weather off Cape I-Iorn but refused to put back and swore a profane oath that he would beat around the Cape if it took till the Day of Judgment. He was taken at his word and is doomed to beat against the wind all his days. His sails are threadbare and the sides of his ship white with age, but still he has to sail on and on. X 'F if lk is il Here the Old Sailor stopped to light his pipe. I.andlubbers