Mechanic Falls High School - Pilot Yearbook (Mechanic Falls, ME)

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M. F. II mess was a pitiful, small bunch of wilted violets. These violets were covered with dust and dirt but still they tried bravely to show up to a good advantage. The old man saw them and his pale blue eyes lighted up. He hurried over, took them gently out of the ash- can, brushed them off carefully and thought that they didn't look so bad after all. He picked a piece of brown wrapping paper from the ash-can and wrapped it around the violets, mutter- ing to himself the while, Bess will like these, Bless her! He glanced around as though he didn't want people to think that he was in the habit of picking things out of an ash- can, then he went on around the cor- ner. He walked on for almost a mile and a half though he looked wistfully at a passing trolley car once or twice, then shook his head and walked deter- minedly on. At last he came to a shabby brown house on a little-known street. The house had the same air of neatness that the old man had. The shabby old man looked eagerly at the windows and quickened his steps. He hurried up to the run-over porch and pushed open the door. The , door opened on to the sitting room. Lying on a couch next to the win- dow was a frail-looking girl of twelve years. She turned her head quickly to the door and cried, Daddy? The old man went to her side and said. I ha ve a surprise for you tonight. Guess! Let me touch it begged the girl and her father held his paper of flowers near her hand. Oh, I know, it's flowers , she cried. Oh and thcy're violets. But you shouIdn't S. PILOT 19 have spent your money for them, Daddy, when we're trying to save. 'II didn't, Bess dear. I found them. VVe can put them in water and they'll last for quite a while. I have another surprise, too. The man I work for gave me 5550.00 for your operation and I am going to work after hours to repay him. He asked me about my family and I told him about you so now you can have your operation next month. With the money we have and this we can pay for it. The girl turned to her father with a look of the greatest joy on her face and lifted her arms about her father's neck. Then one could see why she had to touch the violets to tell about them. She was blind. E. McCallister, '32 BLUE AGAIN Hurrah , shouted a multitude of people, simultaneously, as a blue monoplane lifted from the landing Field and, with its nose pointed east- ward, set off on a long journey. I For many weeks the owner of this plane had been preparing for this long trip, destined not to stop until it reached the small continent of Aus- tralia. Inside the cockpit, a plump, little girl with wavy, boyish-cut, red hair sat, looking ruefully at her instrument board and humming the popular song, Blue Again . Marjorie Lynne truly was little. Her red, Irish head rose c'-'actly sixty inches from the good old mother earth. In her flying suit she was a true Irish and twentieth century lass. Suddenly, she leaned out of the win-

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18 M. F. II. S. PILOT instance, he looks real hungry, and he is only about fifteen feet away, he seems glad to see you and is appar- ently preparing to spring in your direc- tion. Would you be afraid? Of course notg why should you be? The animal doesn't really exist. You only think it does. You wouldn't run away from nothing. Isn't it logical? If life is only a dream, then dream it as you want it. If nothing exists, then there is nothing to fear. Well, as I said, I never liked to work, and.I always wanted lots of things, so I wrote to Professor Apple- sauce. I gave his plan a fair trial but it took me quite a while to believe that I had a million dollars. I couldn't seem to think in the right way. After a while I began to doubt Professor Applesauce's theory. Now Professor Applesauce was sure that he was right. He guaranteed that if a n y b o d y doubted his theory and could prove to him that he was wrong he would give back the person's money and give him another fifty dollars to go with it. I wanted to get even with the pro- fessor and I decidedithat I wouldn't mind having the money, so I developed a scheme, whereby I could prove to the Professor that he was wrong. I arranged with a man who had a lion in captivity to forget to feed it for about a week, then to let me have the use of it. I was going to take the Professor by surpriseg we were to be walking along and the lion turned loose. My idea was that the Professor would show symptoms of fear. Well, he did. He was right behind me in climbing the firstptree that we could come to. Now, Professor , I said, I win. You were afraid. You ran from the lion, and climbed a tree. Why did you climb the tree if there was no lion and if you were not afraid? . But I didn't convince the Professor. All he said was, There was no lion. I wasn't afraid and I didn't climb a tree. There was no tree. The rest of the story is a little sad, but it is the truth. That lion felt pretty realg he also felt pretty hun- gry. I-Ie climbed the tree and, real or not, he ate the professor. That didn't satisfy him, there wa s something funny about that lion: he was hungry! And when he finished eating the Pro- fessor, he ate me! Moral: Never Sign on the Dotted Line . Leland Carter, '31 THE ASH-CAN VIOLETS On a cold, cloudy morning in April a small, slightly stooped, old man came around the corner of a dirty street. He wore a shabby, shiny, black frock coat and a derby hat. The cuffs of his shirt, which showed a little below his coat sleeves, were frayed but he looked as though he had tried to make himself as neat as possible. He shiv- ered slightly, and pulled his coat closer about his thin body. There was, on the same corner, an ash-can flowing over with rubbish such as: Paper bags, peanut shells, orange peel, and an old rubber that looked as though a dog had got it be- fore it fell into this last resting place. There was also the dirt that had been swept up off this same corner in the morning and, sticking up from all this

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20 M. F. H. dow and waved, as another mighty cheer reached her ears. As soon as' she gained altitude, the people below were only specks, and she looked ahead to watch her progress. Beside her sat Wiggles, a black rabbit, who was looking at her inquisitively, wrinkling his nose all the time. You're the only friend I've got left, old boy , she said, looking at him. It's funny, how many friends you get while your pockets are full of money, and, when it disappears, how quickly you lose them. Marjorie had been left a fortune by a relative and all her life had had many friends. Ten years later she lost the fortune and, with it, her friends. She had not known how they felt and thought they liked her for herself. During those years, she had purchased this plane and gained a pilot's license. She was now backed by a wealthy, New York man for this Australian trip. Although the only woman entered, she was, by far, the most daring. As she flew along she suddenly thought of Karl and a scornful look came to her face. They had been engaged but, when she lost her money, he came to her and said, with a light laugh: Of course, Marj, old dear, we've had lots of fun pretending to be en- gaged, but now it's different and you wouldn't expect a man-- He didn't finish. She spoke coldly: -not to want his ring back. All right. I pity the girl who wears it permanently, Karl Vondonf' She smiled as she thought of her temper. Truly she was Irish but now, she was having some fun and in her element, too. for she was a born Hyer. S. PILOT Snap out of it, Marj, or you'll land on the peak of these mountains. Of course it's too bad to lose your friends but if you win the prize of 3,500,000 you'll get some new ones and this time you be careful to whom you get en- gaged, too. She said this to herself. Then her mind became centered on her duty as she remembered what Mr. White said just before the take-off: Miss Lynn, keep your eyes open all the time, for the Western Syndicate left a note on my desk saying, that if I dared back a flyer on this flight, that flyer never would be seen again. This seems an impossible threat to you but, let me warn you, they always do what they say they will. Best o' luck, Miss Lynne. How would they attack her? Would they bomb the plane over the ocean? Or when she landed for fuel, would someone kidnap her? Well, she must trust to luck that sheld see them first. With this thought she pulled her revolver from its holster. It wasn't a dainty, pearled affair, but a sinister, regular, cowboy brand revolver and, moreover, she could use it to good advantage. She looked over the edge of the cockpit, the white waves shone in the sun. Would she sink beneath them? On the thirty-sixth hour of the Hight nothing had happened and night was coming on. As the moon rose she thought she saw a black speck to the left of her. Hearing nothing, she con- cluded that hunger caused it and, the lunch basket being opened, she and W'iggles ate supper. All the long flight her engine had run perfectly, the weather had been