Lyman Hall High school - Singer Chronicle Yearbook (Wallingford, CT)

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TIIE CHRONICLE I liable to keep silent she burst into loud, uncontrollable laughter. He looked up at her, trying to hide his embarrassment and confusion. “Hey, where’d you come from, and what’s so funny?” He tried to pick himself up, but he was so tangled in his skis that finally in a last attempt he unfastened them and pulled himself out of the snow as a dog pulls himself out of water. He looked at her again and grinned. ‘‘All right, I don’t blame you. Maybe I’d better go home and read the second lesson.” “‘Oh, have you read the first yet?” she asked. He bit his lip after all, she was a girl. But who? “Say, who are you? “Just Helen’s cousin.” “Well, whoever that is, you shouldn’t give advice about skiing. Those shingles of yours couldn’t make a skier out of anyone.” “They’re the same kind as yours, but they’re waxed belter.” After all they were good skis, and this amateur couldn’t “A-ha, me proud beauty, we shall see. You caught me off my guard once, but never again. Come on, from the top of the hill to the bottom, not to see whose skill is greater, but whose skis are better. Not afraid, are you? I’ll take your skis. We’re not enemies until the race begins. She laughed in spite of herself, and they both set off for the starting point. Half way up he stopped, unfastened the binders on all the skis, and started again. “‘They hurt my shoulder,” he explained. “Sissy, you could have carried them another way. Now I’ll have a terrible job fixing them.” Finally the race began. At first he was a length ahead: but as she picked her course and began to “feel” the track under her, she gradually overtook him. Faster and faster they flew, but still she stayed in the lead. She reached the bottom several seconds before he did, but when he came up to her, he said, ‘“Gosh, I thought for a minute, I’d lose.” “You thought you’d lose! Why-why, you did lose. I was ahead by three lengths. Now you’ll learn “No, I won,” he said quite firmly. “You didn’t! I might have known “You won, but you really lost. You see, I won. The skis you had on won, and they’re my skis. Remember, it wasn’t a test of skill but of “So that’s why you unfastened the binders, so I shouldn’t think it was funny when they didn’t fit my shoes! My pal, Lochinvar!” She bent to pick her skis up. “Who? Well, anyway, you’re a good sport even though you’re not much of a skier. Hey! That snow ball hit me!” “No, not a snow ball, just your silver cup for winning.” Charlotte Crump. ’37

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14 THE CHRONICLE “Er — hello, BiflT he said after a moment of hesitation. “Won’t you come in?” He was a bit shaky about allowing him in. The last time he had done so he had been carried by Biff to the campus goldfish pool. “Eve got to see you about a very important matter, Chauncey,” said Biff. “Sure you don’t want to feed me to the goldfish again?” “No, the truth is that I want you to help me.” “What? Me help you?” “You sec it’s like this,” explained Biff. “The dean won’t allow me to play in the big game unless my grades are made up. I was wondering if you’d help me.” Chauncey thought quickly. Biff was Brighton’s best football player. The whole team was built around him. If he helped Biff, he would be doing his part toward assisting Brighton win the major game. “All right, it’s a deal,” agreed Chauncey. i With all thoughts of leaving gone, Chauncey drilled Biff during every spare moment, day and night, for a solid week. At the end of the week after his grades were all made up, the great football hero came to Chauncey and uttered in his most grateful tone of voice, “Chauncey, that was swell of you after the way we all treated you. The team wants to show their gratitude and appreciation by appointing you mascot.” After this Chauncey never thought of leaving Brighton, where after graduation he remained as an instructor. Viola Lendler, ’38 Snow Reward “I might as well sit down,” she thought wearily. “I’ve been down that track about thirty times already.” She shook herself, trying to remove some of the soft, flaky snow- from her suit. A rustic bench had been placed conveniently at the bottom of the ski track, and after brushing the snow from it, she sank down with a sigh. “If there were only a moon, I could at least imagine a Lochinvar coming out of the North on snow shoes, but the only Lochinvar I could ever have now would be Santa Claus. I’ll bet my cousin has every male in New England up there teaching her how to ski. Oh gosh, why couldn’t I have been beautiful and dumb instead of just dumb?” Finding a smooth spot on the white ground, she began to draw characters with her pole, when suddenly she heard the crunching sound of skis on the track above her. She looked up; a lone skier was speeding towards her. As he neared the bottom of the hill, he lost his balance, and, falling on the slippery track, slid the remaining distance to the bench.

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16 THE CHRONICLE Ski Trails When the north winds blow and the snow creeps across the frozen fields, it is hard for a lover of the outdoors and nature to enjoy his excursions to the woods and fields because of the difficulty in walking though the snow. Some six thousand years ago the Norsemen in the Great Altai Mountains realized this same fact and developed two long pointed sticks of resinous pine to fit on the feet. This, they discovered, not only gave resistance to the snow but enabled them to attain considerable speed on slopes. Thus was made the first ski. and the Norwegians did all their traveling on these slender strips of pine. Skiing gradually became known throughout the world, especially in the mountainous snowy regions. In 1873 in the Swiss Alps the first ski jumping contest was held between the boys of Christiania and Telemarken. Skiing finally reached the I nited States when it was discovered that we had the best wood in the world for their construction and that Norway, Austria, and Sweden were importing our native ash, hickory, maple, and pine to build skis, which were sold for a high price in our country. Thus Ajinerica became ski-minded. In 1935 the first snow train traveled between Boston and Maine to give city skiers a chance to enjoy real virgin skiing. This became so popular that now there are snow trains every week from January until March. Skiing is so young in our country that a person who has skied a year is called a veteran. As for the sport itself, it is hard to find any better. The limit for speed is your own nerve and gravity. Speeds of forty-five miles per hour are not uncommon, while in Austria records have been made of one hundred miles per hour. (This is down hill skiing, not jumping.) The nature lover and the sportsman are satisfied, for they can go exploring, hiking, hunting, ice-fishing, trapping, and tracking on skis. Some say that snowshoes are more practical. They may he in the deep Northern swamps, hut in New England with its rolling hills and deep valleys. I'll take skis and go swishing, slashing down a snow-choked trail till clouds of fine.snow spray my face and the wind causes tears to dim my eyes and take my breath. Daniel D’Agostino, 37 Improvement in Modern Poultry liaising In recent years there have been many improvements in poultry raising, but I wish to speak mainly of the introduction of batteries. Formerly poultry raising was conducted on free range, where the chicken was able to go anywhere it pleased within the run. Now, however, it is rapidly changing, so that the chicken run is no longer needed. Batteries are becoming more and more useful to the poultry raiser, for they do away not only with the wire run but take up much less space, therefore making poultry raising a far more profitable industry than ever before. These batteries to which I have been referring are simple cages constructed of wire, in which the hen lives