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

Page 28 text:

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,

Page 27 text:

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

Page 29 text:

This is where I keep my husbandf, All I saw were some ashes in the bottom. On one side of the room were shelves built like cages and in them were white mice and rabbits. They were separated by a couch which had the head of it built in the wall. The couch was covered with black satin and on it was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. I screamed, I think. I kept wishing I could get out of the place, but something seemed to hold me, so I looked toward the other side of the room, wondering what came next in this dreadful place. On this side was a large glassed-in case. 'In it were curios from every country. There was a scalp with beautiful, long golden hair and in the middle was the head of a man. It looked very real and had a horrid expression of fear on its features. I looked toward the door, wondering how I could get out of the place, when something above it caught my attention. A shelf had been built over the door on which was a skull, and on the skull sat a raven, the most wicked-looking one there ever was, I think. -til S. PILOT 27 I screamed again and this time so loud that I woke myself upg and ohl What a relief! Norma Drisko '42, THE ROOM NVAS IN A RIOT The room was in a riot when the teacher left her class. I looked around, but couldn't see a studious lad or lass. I wanted to be a sociable soul, so I joined in the roar. But all the time with a guilty mind, my eye was on the door. Someone threw an eraser, it bounced against a chair, And all at once, with a mighty force, several Latin books filled the air. But oh! that Jacob Jackson, the smart Alec of the school, VVas having fun with an old squirt gun, splashing ink in bright blue pools. The back of the room was calming down, but the front was in full action, The biology class was killing flies, and proved an added attraction. But all too soon our fun did end, when the door opened to expose. The teacher standing with a knowing smile, looking around on our studious pose. Gloria Strout '-13. .4-1 si, Slllnd v is Q- I I 4-'I E52 I gif? H1723 'Y' 'lgiii' 1??': 'LJ