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

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M. F. H. S. PILOT 25 was my brother's dog, Princess, gnawing on a bone. What a scare! Gloria Harwood '44. A TRAMP A tramp is as much a man of the world as the leading citizen or even more so. Sur- rounded by poverty, he smiles and lets the rest of the world go by, for, what cares has he except for where his next meal is coming from? His dirty ragged garments barely clinging to his frame bother him not. He is free, much more so than the business man. His worries are few, and he can laugh with feeling, he can enjoy the thrill of living. Compared with the richest banker he is a man of wealth. He understands nature bet- ter than one who makes a study of it. His heart leaps up at the beauty of his surround- ings. Do we feel like this tramp? Do we appreciate these things as he? No, we carry the worries of the world upon our shoulders. We see no beauty, all we see is the coming poverty which threatens us. We tremble at the thought of the days to come, but the tramp looks forward with eagerness, smiling, unafraid, enjoying every minute of his living. We hurry, hurry, hurry, just to keep up with time and when we have done hurrying we realize that we have lost the best things that we could have in life. But-the tramp, the good for nothing tramp, loses nothing but fame and fortune. The tramp, whom we look upon with scorn, indeed, he is more worthy of envy. Marjorie Spiller '44. THE THREE BRAVATEERS It was an eerie night that enveloped the little bungalow on Sunnyside's main boulevard. The rain beat a steady tattoo on the roof and the wind whistled around the corners as if it had just obtained a new lease on life. Inside was a very woebegone group of three people: my sister, my brother, and I. Of course the weather' was very depressing but the straw that broke the camel's back was the fact that mother was miles away, presumably enjoying herself. We weren't scared, you understand, but it was rather lonesome. Finally, after we had worn our thumbs out and our faces were fairly aching from the effort of keeping a wide assuring grin pinned on them, we decided to go to bed. VVas that someone at the door? asks little sister. Oh gosh! I gasp. No, it's only the wind QI hopejf' Tension relaxes a little until I whisper, VVas that someone at the window in the sewing room? You go see, Elt. So Elt gulps once and bravely starts toward the sewing room. The verdict is tensely awaited, the minutes tick off like hours, until Elt ex- plodes, Darn that cat- if I ever catch her - rolling a spool around like that - at night, too. At last lights are out and on the surface it seems to be very calm and peaceful. Hours pass by and although artificial snores can be heard, not once have we closed our eyes. Then like a shot in the dark, a terrific pop is heard. Heads immediately disappear un- der the bed clothes. Another pop is heard, another, and still another. What could it be? Pirates, burglars? I left my three cent stamp on the desk. Finally I became really brave and said, Bet, you can go see what it is, your slippers are right there. G--gosh why the s--sudden burst of g--generosity? Elt-are y--you s--still there? W--why clon't you g-go? Time flies and one would swear that a conga band was loose, complete with casta- nets fteethj and drums fkneesj. Then with another sudden burst of manly protective- ness, Elt tiptoes down the stairs to see what was roaming around. Doesn't the clock tick awfully loud? It must be at least three- quarters of an hour since he left-suppose Bet should go down? All these thoughts were racing through my mind. Presently the house is as light as day. fMother will need an aspirin when she gets the light bill.j

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4 24 M. F. H. grass houses shouldn't throw bombs, and We won't bury the hatchet until we bury the Axis. It is an established fact that a body of united and organized troops can easily con- quer a horde of ununited and straggling soldiers. We have this united army but it must have weapons and ammunition with which to fight. We also possess an adequate and efficient navy and air corps but they also must have equipment. With our mills and factories on a war-time basis of seven days a week, we are probably manufacturing war materials faster than any other nation. Our finances are far from inexhaustible, however. Therefore taxes must rise to meet the demand. Many citizens object heartily to this, but I think they would choose it in preference to being governed by an Axis ruler. Defense bonds and stamps have been placed on sale by the federal government to help ofiset this great expenditure. With the help of every citizen: this plan will provide necessary funds to wipe the Axis ofi' the map and bring peace to the world. Until that great day when the world is freed from these war-crazed rulers, let us keep that V for Victory in our minds and Remember Pearl Harbor. Iohn Trinward '43. BOMBERS ABOVE Feeble rays of early morning sunlight in- vestigated with curiosity the small, dirty, crumpled form of humanity which lay mo- tionless as a stone. Then, as though encour- aged by the ever increasing symphony of birds' songs, the sun peeked cautiously over the horizon and boldly shed its golden light upon a still sleepy World. A faint breeze shook the sparkling dewdrops from the young green grass and playfully stirred the buds of the maple tree. On second look one was startled to see a huge crater blasted out of the earth. Near the crater lay that still figure. The breeze blew a wisp of hair across the forehead, a bird hopped about it inquisitively, the sun shone more warmly, but the Figure failed to move. S. PILOT A few yards away was a wooden door, which evidently opened into an air raid shelter dug into the side of a hill. The door now opened and out came a woman who was apparently about fifty years of age. Why, no, she wasn't either, it was just those awful deep lines around her mouth and the worried look in her eyes. She cupped her hands to her mouth and called, Bobbie, Bobbie, then her eyes fell upon the small crumpled figure and she stared in unbeliefg then she sobbed brokenly for she knew Bobbie would not answer. Thelma Prince '44. ODE TO ME Of all the things upon this earth, Only one is very near-3 Yet while I should know this best, It is to me, so odd, so queer. So distant in relation. So locked, without a keyg Yet this mysterious question . Is only simply ME. Robert G. Campbell '42, MYSTERY AT MIDNIGHT I awoke with a start! I glanced at the clock and shuddered when I realized it was 12, midnight. As I glanced toward the win- dow I suddenly lay stiff and prone in my bed. Had I imagined it, or had I actually heard the faint creak of the stairs leading to my room? Again I heard crunch-crunch- crunch, as if someone were prowling about down stairs. I finally mustered enough bravery to creep cautiously to the stairs and peer down into the inky darkness, only to look into a pair of eyes that resembled live coals smoldering at the end of the evening. I gave one look and yelled as I never had before, but no sound came. The eyes of that thing turned away and still I heard the steady crunching, but how could that thing be cautiously walking when I could see it with my own eyes? What a problem! Sud- denly it became soluble before my very eyes. The door to my brother's study opened and sent out a thin stream of light, playfully centering on the object of my attraction. There on the rug at the foot of the stairs

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26 M. F. H. S. PILOT Oh giminy, groans Elt from the kitchen, Mother got too much yeast in the root beer, again. E. S. '44. THE TRIUMPH Br-r-r-r, goes the last bell warning the re- luctant Latin Class on its way. The six very unstudious looking students wearily place Catsar under their arms and, dragging one foot after the other, proceed to mount the stairs. Their facial expressions are similar to those of six men hanging on a silk thread over a ledge. Shirley, the bravest of these two trium- virates, cautiously peeks around the door and boldly enters. So we come, with Phyllis bringing up the rear. Meanwhile the clock has been galloping along like Paul Revere and it is now ten minutes since the last bell rang. Imperator Nelson raps for order and the study students Hnally subside to their books. Only the rustle of leaves and the squeak of Erma's seat as she hunts through sheaves of paper for her translation, can be heard. Miss Abbott will please proceed, com- mands our Imperator. Shirley draws a long breath and begins to translate one of Ca:sar's most breathtaking paragraphs, it's all one sentence. Bessie, when it comes her turn, declares, I've got all the words, but I'll be darned if I can make 'um make sense. About now Ioyce pipes up and wants to know why Caesar wasn't shot before he ever had a chance to write paragraphs of one sen- tence! After everyone has Hnished translating, Miss Nelson gives the assignment and every- one goes busily to work-asking questions about phrases. Thelma, obviously engaged in doing her assignment, suddenly waves her hand in the air and says, What would you use as a meaning of pero if you were me? The book says it means: go to, make for, to get secure, demand, ask, request, and to be a candidate for. I just can't figure out which one to use. Miss Nelson suggests look for and Thelma looks blank, for that meaning isn't even given. She sighs and looks at Miss Nelson as one does upon a genius. At last as the bell announces relief, every- one puts his brain in storage until next Latin Class, and slides down in his seat to a half lying position of utter exhaustion. Finally, revived by the smell of food from the Home Economics room we stand auto- matically and follow the aroma of cooking food which means dinner and home. Thelma Prince and Erma Shaw '42. THE RESULT OF OVER EATING The most interesting room I ever saw was -well, it happened like this, and I still think the three hot dogs, two ice-cream sodas, and nearly a pound of candy I had just eaten could not have had anything to do with it. At bedtime I felt all right. I turned out the lights and was listening to some of Glenn Miller's sweet music on the radio. The next thing I knew I was walking down a lonely road in front of a farm house. A nice little old lady who was sitting on the doorstep asked me if I'd like a drink of water, for it was very warm. It was a modern kitchen in which I got a drink, then she asked me if I'd like to come into her living room. She went into the room, but I got only as far as the door. I didn't believe such a room was possible! From where I was standing the first thing I saw was the wall opposite me. Except for the one window which was in the exact middle, the wall was covered with black satin on which were hung pictures, mostly snapshots. She explained that in- stead of keeping pictures in an album, she preferred to have them where she could see them. The window had heavy gold brocade curtains. The floor was hard wood and very slippery, but I ventured on it. On the floor in front of the window was a large, hand- some black vase that looked very expensive. She asked me to come over to it. She said,