26 M. H. S. BULLDOG 1947 STUDENT COUNCIL Seated, left to right: Claire Henry. Shirley Fletcher, Dana Green. Mr. Farnham, Adviser. Helen l.eClair. Dorothy Towne. Robert Richard. Standing: Jean O'Conner, Arthur Andrews. Clifton Goodwin. Student Council The Madison High School Student Council started the school year last fall with the following members: Dana Green, Dorothy Towne, Shirley Fletcher, Helen LeClair, Robert Richard, Arthur Andrews, Claire Henry, Norma O'Connor, and Clifton Goodwin, The officers are as follows: President Dana Green XJIICL'-PI'CSl'C1'?f'7l Helen l-eClair Secretary Shirley Fletcher Treasurer Claire Henry A project for the Student Council was the raising of money for the basketball girls' uniforms. For this project, the Stu- dent Council held a Semi-Formal Spring Dance in the High School auditorium. There are also other projects which will be continued next year. The Student Council feels that they have accomplished a great deal during this past school year and wish to thank Mr. Farnham for his co-operation.
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28 M. H. S. BULLDOG 1947 LITERARY ONCE IN HIS LIFETIME It couldn't be true! It just isn't pos- sible. I couldn't believe my eyes. That's what I thought anyway until-oh, yes, it happened, all right. It was just an ordinary day-not a thing unusual about it. It wasn't the least bit like the day you would expect it to be. The sun had come up at about the usual time. It wasn't particularly sunny but still it wasn't rainy either. It didn't even happen on a special day: in fact, it was on just plain Wednesday right in the middle of the week. Yes, it had been a most cus- tomary day. My alarm clock had gone off at exactly seven. I got up at exactly seven-thirty. The morning shower hit me with that custo- mary icy feeling. The same wrinkles were in my tie and even the same left suspender wouldn't stay fastened. At eight I went downstairs and found my wife just as crabby. I ate exactly the same breakfast that I have eaten for the past ten years. The coffee burnt me and the butter, of course, wouldn't melt on the toast. So, as you can see, it was a per- fectly ordinary, normal, and customary morning. I had gone down to the bus stop and was getting on, before I realized what had happened. There he was right in front of me. That's the part that I just couldn't believe. Instead of racing down the street carrying his coat, necktie, and sometimes his pants, he was calmly getting on the bus with plenty of time. Yes, it's true all right. This time Dagwood Bumstead made the bus: he didn't have to catch it. JoAN WING, '47 THE MIGHTY NIMROD My name ees Juan. One fine day w'en the feesh are biting line, my ole fren', Jeem Parker, ask me eef I wants to go feeshing weeth heem. I don' know w'at thees ees as I jus' move to Maine. W'en 'e esplain, I say, I try. 'E tell me to get bock's tail as 'e got rest of feexings. I deed not know at that time that a bock's tail was a fly for feeshing. Py golly, I run roun' and roun' that zoo chasin' that bock an' trying to cut off hees tail. I steel feel sore w'er I shouldn't on accounta that fresh Zookeeper prod me weeth peetchfork an' haul me eento court. I have to pay five dollair for that opset. Jeem, 'e say I don't know 'nough 'bout feeshing so 'e takes me hunteeng for rac- coon. That I know somesing about. Well, one dark night, w'en the moon she shoold be out, she stayed een. But jus' same we go hunteeng. Jeem an' I take guns an Jeem, 'e take dogs. Finally, we get somesing treed. Jeem tell me I should climb tree 'an' shake raccoon out. I go up an' as I reach for 'coon, I hear speeting noise. Then, those green spots een front of me tell me somesing. My brain. she cleek. She work fast as she has never done before. Just as my mind tell me thees theeng ees a bobcat, she also tell my working mussels to get me out of thees place fast. Jus' as I fall out of tree, thees bobcat fall on top of me. Jeem, 'e peek off bobcat een air an we gets feefteen dollair for bounty. The only reason I deedn't get keeled was that Jeem's poor dog, she was under me. NORMAN VVVESTON, '48 MY LONG-DESIRED FUR COAT I am the owner of a very unusual fur coat, sold to me by Mr. XVatts, a salesman from Norwood. He called the coat a rare silver fawn, and as he held it out for me to examine said, Madame, this is a very choice fur coat. Never does it have to be packed away in cold storage: moths will not destroy it. If you wish to keep its appearance the same as new, brush and comb the fur often. This coat may even get wet, as long as it is dried out quickly. With good care it should last you for at least ten or twelve years. You may be very proud of this coat. It is a rare specimen, and there are few like it in this country. The last one I had was imported from England, and not for sale! As I ran my hand down the shimmer- ing black stripe which ran down the back of the fur coat, it almost seemed to be
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