Lincoln School - Lambre Quin Yearbook (Providence, RI)

Page 61 text:

of the hot dogs was stretching. st-rr-etch-h-ing . . . then each gull was flat on his back. each valiantly holding on to his Iwo hot dogs. Down the hatch these went, and with a bale- ful glance at each other, and a screech for good measure, the gulls took oll' into the air- COUSIN JANE'S Our family will never forget spring clean- ing last year. Cousin 'lane had come to spend the week. She is one of those people who know all about everything, especially what- ever happens to be going on at the time. About seven in the morning we had break- fast. Cousin 'lane had a fabulous new way to fix eggs. she told us. 'Iihey were tough and burnt at the edges but Cousin Alane served them with a There, you see? Now, aren't you glad you let me do them? Cousin -lane is like tl1at. XVe got out mops, pails. brooms, dust cloths. ammonia, steel wool, Babo, silver cleaner- the whole works-with Cousin llane's bulk in the middle of it all. Wle decided to do the kitchen first. The smell of ammonia didn't have any adverse effects on Cousin ylane, or so she said: accordingly she was assigned to clean the sink and stove. Five minutes after she had started. however, with tears stream- ing down her face, she exclaimed that she guessed she must be getting a cold: would we excuse her for a minute? l'Vould we excuse her! XVe propelled her through the door, ut- tering profound regrets. and immediately got to work. Mother did the porcelain, I washed the walls, my father and brother cleaned out the cupboards, and jointly we scrubbed and waxed the floor. All in all, it took us a couple of hours. As we sat over cups of coffee. proud- ly surveying the results of our toil. Cousin 'lane came downstairs again. Uh. dear. she said. I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting all this time when there's so much to be done. This kitchen really needs . . A Cousin lane! I interrupted sharply. I think we've done a beautiful job in here. don't you? See the pretty shelving paper? Mother chose it last week. Oh-oh. you mean-oh! XVell. I suppose the sitting room comes next, eh? XVe were thinking of doing the dining- room, dear, replied Mother. A little more svstematic. you know. woimf about in a 4 U , tw m circle. ways again. each loaded to capacity and drag- ging his landing gear. H Living near the water as I do, I often come in contact with seagulls. Their almost-human behavior, I find, makes gull-watching an en- grossing pastime. Ili-il. I,t,ovn, '5-f HOUSEKEEPING Uh, I'm not so sure. I've always thought I'll polish the table! shouted my brother. I'll do the chairs. I cried. Guess I'll beat the rugs. said Father. And l'Il wash the curtains. finished Mother with a smile. Cousin jane stood helpless for a moment but, never daunted, she offered to rearrange the books so that they'd be easier to find. Father winced at this. Not one volume was in any kind of order. There was a Russian grammar book, next to Kon-Tiki, next to a Street fillflfl' Io Paris, next to Creek Mythol- ogy, next to Barbar and His Trzmcls, and so on. Nevertheless. Father knew where every volume was to be found. and the idea of Con- sin Alane's cataloging his library gave him a nasty turn. That would be even worse than the time I took pity on him and straightened out his tool chest.-Never will I forget his utter despair on that occasion.-But to get back to my original point, it was obvious that Cousin 'lane could lltll touch those books. I-low would you like to make a salad for lunch, dear? suggested Mother hopefully. Cousin qlane, of course, knew of a wonder- ful new kind of salad which she would just love to make for us. XVe'd adore it. she was sure. There were four long sighs of relief as we got to work. X'Ve dusted and polished to Cousin 1lane's melodious wail fiom the ad- joining kitchen, telling us that spring was here. She was in the church choir back home. which may give you some idea of what we went through. In the meantime. we finished downstairs before lunch while Cousin Alane was still concocting her salad. There's another thing about Cousin .lane that I haven't as yet mentioned. XVith all her remarkable qualities, she is a conhrmed hyliochondriac. Give her a breath of fresh air and she's sure she's going to catch pneu- monia. .-Ks we were sitting down to lunch, which we had in the kitchen, I went to open a window. The air was so thick that. to dust F i fty-seven

Page 60 text:

Today is here. I am seventeen, and have been for thirteen hours. But no sophistica- tion or joy or jubilation has overcome me. .Ks far as I can see. no change at all has taken place. I'm the same me who was sixteen last year. In fact, I even feel exactly as I have all year, except for being overstuffed from too nutch birthday cake. Surely, -Iani must have been mistaken when GULL-WA The soft mewling cry lifts our gaze skyward. There, hovering on silver wings, between wind and water, Hoats the bird. His wings outspread, head thrust forward, he drifts on the currents of air which send him, a Hash in the sun, skyward or down, to skim just above the wisps of foam on the water below. A flip of the tail, a splash. and he plummets beneath the surface, to rise in a spray of drops with a silver-striped Hsh clutched in his beak. .-Xt this, l1is fellow mates all join in the fun. and a seagull game of tag sets out through the sky. Twisting, turning, skimming the crests, the chase goes on. Buffeted. one sea' gull drops the prize, another catches it, and they begin again, and so-through the sky. But our friend sulks, and lands with wings aflurry and feet outstretched on a lonesome. tar-covered pile, a lonely hermit in a world of give and take. At home, in the winter, we have tamed the birds enough so that they take meat scraps from the backyard. The strategy of recon- noitering. and the majesty of their flight thrills tts. The first that we know of the gull's visit is a fleeting shadow as he drifts by on silent wings. If we are quiet and still, he may land. lVe hear the low, gutteral, harsh undertone as two or more gulls flv over, and then. silence. Suddenly a great white bird glides in. lands on the run, and takes off again. Then he reappears. Inquisitively and anxiously turning his head from side to side, his bright eyes alerted for any movement, he waddles toward the meat. XVe now get a vivid picture of his col- oring which cannot be seen in the air. The bird is a just-bleached white, dazzling in the brightness of the sun. .PX delicate blue-grey shades his black-tipped wings, with two per- fect spots of white in the black as if someone had taken a paint brush and let fall two drops of purest white. The edges of the wings are outlined dramatically with a white Huting. His little, orange-webbed feet scurry quickly I zffy six she told me that seventeen was the best age. Her arithmetic never was good. Perhaps she meant eighteen! Yes, of course, eighteen was the year, the age to be desired! Only one short year to wait! A year full of dreams and hopes and expectations . . . of being eighteen! CHARI.OT'I'lC HAR'roN, '51 TCHER over the ground, and his orange-colored bill darts among the scraps, holding at one time more than any self-respecting bird should take. Gorged to the limit, the gull takes one last sad look at all that he can, by no means, stuff into himself. YVith a running take-off, not unlike that of a plane on an aircraft ear- rier, he launches himself into the air. Once, we threw out four hot dogs with skins on them. A greedy gull spied them and made a perfect nose-dive for them, ending with feet out and tailfeathers down. X'Vaddling over as fast as his waggling posterior would let him, he started gulping them down. First one dog, then a secondg a third was on its way, but it hit bottom. That gull was full of hot dog, from one end to the other! No farther could he shove them: no more could he swallow. So there he was, with nearly two hot dogs hanging from his open bill. Now, above him, another seagull was on the prowl for food, and looking down he spied those tempting frankfurters. It dicln't seem to register that there was another seagull attached to the other end. YVhat did he do? He flew down, hooked on to a juicy dog, and pulled. Out popped all four hot dogs! Sur- prised thus rudely, Gull I started to scream. Throwing his neck forward. opening his beak. sticking out his tongue, he made the backyard resound with his cries and-such dreadful gull language! NVhile Gull II was merrily swallowing his hot dogs as fast as he could. Gull I grew madder and madder. Suddenlv he lost control. I-Ie gave one final screech and, wings raised, neck outstretched and bill open, an evil glint in his eye, he rushed at Gull II. Striking out, he missed. but latched on to a hot dog. Very good! Giving a back- ward lurch. he pulled the dogs free. As the last hot dog appeared, Gull ll clamped down, hard. Contact! The tug-of-war was on! Back and forth, screaming foul invec- tives at each other, the birds raged. The skin

Page 62 text:

1 . oll an old attustometl phrast, we tould cut mean. lloustn lane believed in mopping' with it with a knife: a distinct aroma ol unmonia the broom and sweeping with the mop with filled the room. results you tnay well imagine. She didn't 'tfjh' Im, ,mv lltv-ms. lfll-:uc d,,,,'l tp, limi. care lor the broom because it scattered too I had it open just a while ago and it really IIIIIVI1 111181. l C5110 mul It Us llmllgll SIIG l'VClAf' is quite fresh in here, don't. you think? 'I'his l'li'l'U'S' HUIII 3. Emil IH- SIIG Mulillll' WWII 'I' last, she hopefully put to the rest ol' the Iam- the middle ol the Iloor and shook the mop ily. she's been sweeping with. It's times like that when Father reminds Mother that Cousin tty Id open it just a eraek, il' I were you, Mother winked at me. .lane isn't his IQHIIIIIYIS fault. Mother then asks Father who's responsible lor Aunts Jean, Cousin -lane shivered violently all through Mae Lillie and Sarah as well as Great llueles . , . . ,. ,. . V, . ' . . ' ' ' the meal, although het stat was practically Horace and Percy :md t I Q part ol the radiator. . , , . . . It happens every spring around our house. Ihe alternoon was spent t-leaning up alter Cousin hIane's cleaning up. il' you see what I .XLISON Wttttmts, 'Sl REALITY Yesterday. when I was young In sunshine bright, with glad songs sung, Iiut lor a moment sparks, and then Is gone and all is black again. .Xnd I aiu leI't, IIf'IUTL', alone. bt mtl new md Iree. Eaeh welcome day. 'z Stretehed open arms inviting me 'l'o play and dreatn and gently drift, Upon a pebble chipped from stone XVith only faint assurity- butdtns ltltf-f No pam to bear or ' - 0 .-X carefree haze ol' happin Eternity, eau it be this? CSS Eternity, tan it be now lVith apple blossoms on the bough sunshine drowned in summer r'un painted leaves: my window pane Intrieately lrosted-patterns there Xllltieli never will the artists dare lo mimic' in their solt desi 'I'he broken braneh. the lost wiml's whine: And 'I'he Qill Ihts ltle we live, yet know not h lxternity. tan it be now? I',lt'l'Illly. lllll ll IX' IN'IlL'I'C 'ue lrtre' 4 Ihe world ls tleadftts sutl. XYhere eoltl liy es. in eternal snow .Xre buried deep? Hlhere iee winds b vast. bleak emptiness ol whitt .Xeross the bleeding' tracks at night- Ihe t 1 low XVIICIK' ' ' z 4 ltmptd Intl ltll t btoktn deer-f lzternity. can it be here? I cannot lintl my way. the sn Io guide my lumbltng leet ts lar 'I'he glimpse ol' light has given me 'l'hat through l,iIe's dark and troubled dream There somewhere is a master scheme. The wond'rous pattern which must be 'I'he secret ol' Eternity. A Some day, somewhere, I shall lind 'I'he peatie to soothe my writhing mind. The treasures stored where moth or :lust Clan ne'er corrupt. eorrode, or rust: 'I'he open door: the guiding hand: My castle-built upon the sand? 'I'his world will soon Iorget my name. I have lllll earned the right to lame. 4 Nly true sell slept: I did not live. With mueh to do and much to give. I dreamt ol' that vague, distant time. 'I'he battle won. the prizes mine-- I'tl do and think. pursue and say 'Ihe things put oll from day to clay-- 'I'he ehanee would come and with no pain Nly soul would hntl ttsell Zlgillll. Some day. awakened. I must see 'I'he truth which is Reality- 'I'he answer. shining bright and clear. 'I'oo quick to leel. too short. too near. -llnlnnlul bl illlliiilmlgiIll-Milli lil will 'I'he answer, to the question lVhen? , lu I mm to md lm It ll Mil' Iiternitv. lor me. was 'I' H EN! Net. when my path by eanclle-light ' Is lost. a Still' rtlmw' the night PENNY XVA'l'l'S, '55 lf1'jly-et-gl: I