Newport High School - Live Wire Yearbook (Newport, ME)

Page 24 text:

T T 'Tv' THE LIVE WIRE 20- ff - fi,.f ,.,. . .. ..-,...,fi. ten-thirty tonight. Here it was five minutes to twelve by the clock in the steeple. Who'd believe him when he said that Fred's car had been out of gas five miles from home? He came in sight of his home stand- ing dark and silent in the night. Bud quickly and quietly made his way to the rear of the house towards the pantry window, which had never been locked since he could remember. Care- fully pushing the window up, he was half way over the sill, when ugh! The window had come down with a thud, knocking the wind out of him. His feet and legs were , dangling in mid air on one side, and his finger tips barely reached the floor on the other. He couldn't move one way or the other. He was rather glad that it was dark and no one could see him. To add to his discomfort, Tippy, the cat which had awakened had climbed up and was tickling Bud's nose with her tail. Down Tippy, he hissed and helped her with a swat of his hand. The cat wasn't easily dis- couraged. Climbing up again she stuck her claw nail into Bud's lip. With an exclamation, he dived 'after her. This was disasterous. The window had let go, and his body tumbled a complete somersault which caused his feet to come against the opposite wall with a terrible crash. He sat there listening, his breath coming in great gasps and his heart pounding. The house was silent. He slowly got to his feet, and mak- ing his way cautiously across the kitchen, he reached the living room door. He was half way across the room when smack up against a smok- ing stand, knocking it and its contents galley-west. What a noise! An exclamation came from the room above and a startling voice thundered, Who's there? Silence. Again the voice and again complete silence. Bud carefully picked his way across the parlor and started up the stairs. One two, anda terrible cre-ee-ek. Hesi- tation. One, two, cre-ee-ek. Another pause. In this fashion Bud reached the fioor above without a mishap. Stealing through the hall he reached his door with only a groan from his father's room. He entered his room, quickly undressed, crawled into bed, and with a sigh of relief he turned over and went to sleep. All was well until the next time. Olita Goodnow '44 When Death Was Welcome Far away I heard the old church clock toll midnight. The very sound set me trembling. Two more hours of waiting ---- of horror - - - in the spookiest place possible, the grave- yard. I was propped up on a grave- stone with my shivering back snug a- gainst its icy coldness. There was no moon. The frogs didn't croak. The darkness hung like a blanket over the ground. Everything was deathly silent. Minutes were seemingly end'- less. Ten minutes went by - - - silence, fifteen minutes - - a cricket chirped, I jumped and then lit a match. I looked at the engraving on the stone back of me. The letters were twisted in a blood-curdling manner. When I fi- nally puzzled the mess out, I gasped. My heart make one mighty leap and had I not closed my mouth with the speed of lightning, I doubt if I'd be

Page 23 text:

6WJ5f!3f6b,1H7 'il ry CW f NEWPORT, MAINE -DDD ..... . 4 . Oh, Mother, Dad, you sweet dar- lings, is it for me, really me? cried Susanne. Well, laughed Dad, It would look kind of odd on me, and it's a little too large for Jimmy, and Mother is getting just a little too plump, he teased. But - - 'But - - Jimmy's crutches ? asked Susanne sorrowfully. Oh. don't worry about them, they are coming tomorrow or the next day, said Dad. I got promoted and a raise a while ago. And you didn't tell me? said Susanne. But she was too happy to think any more about it. We can honestly say there wasn't a happier couple of kids than Tommy and Susanne that night, unless you call Mumsey and Dad kids - - - and little happy Jimmy. Margaret McGuire '43 Cousin Jean It was a very stormy day when Kay came plodding down the road. There was a foot of light, fluffy snow and it was still storming hard. It was bitter cold, and she still had a long walk to town. She had plenty of time to think of the Senior Hop. She wanted to go so bad, but she was afraid Hal would not ask her. There was a new girl in town and Hal liked her. Anyway, she thought he did. She didn't have much chance to see him because she lived in the country and while she was home he was out with that city girl. Kay's mother had gone to Bangor to get her an evening gown. She did hope it would be blue because Hal J ni' . m' 19 liked blue with her brown hair and blue eyes. Kay looked up from the ground and saw Hal and that new girl, Jean, in a sleigh. Well, of all things, she thought. I wish the horse would run away. Hal drove up beside Kay and said, Hello, Kay, get in and we'll take you to town. Huh, I guess not. I'll walk thank you, Kay replied haughtily. Well, returned Hal, What's got into you? Who wouldn't get mad, delared Kay. Are you mad because Hal is going out with me? asked Jean. Well I-er, stammered Kay. If you are, cut in Jean, I would not be because I am Hal's cousin. Is that why you are mad, Kay? asked Hal. If it is, please get over it, because Iwant you to go to the Senior Hop with me. Dorcas Carsley '44 All ls Well That Ends Well Bud had just left Judith and was wandering homeward along a dark, deserted street. Whirling through his head was a very perplexing question. How was he going to climb through a window, climb a fiight of stairs, which had a very peculiar habit of creaking on every third stair and climb into bed without letting his father know what time he had come home? He remembered how earlier in the evening his father had very sternly said, Bud, you must be in bed by

Page 25 text:

NEWPORT, MAINE A- -?.sA.-..-s..s. . I .-21 telling this tale today. The name on the gravestone was Frankenstein The Monster. I was paralyzed. My fingers refused to move. My eyes popped. I stared at the stone. The engraving became luminous. I noticed a movement in the crease of one of the letters. A drop of glowing human blood splashed to the base of the stone. The light faded and I saw no more. When I came to, I was looking at the luminous hands of my watch. It was twelve thirty. I lit a match and noticed the engraving on the stone. I realized then it wasn't a dream. During the last dying flicker of the match I glanced at the gravestone opposite me. The letters on it were of the same fantastic design as on the one back of me. My match died. I continued staring at the dark outline of the stone. A silvery glow slowly formed at the middle ofit. The name Dracula appeared. Memories of a man who was dead in the daytime and alive at night came to me. Dracula could change himself into a wolf or a bat and killpeople at will. He was finally killed by driving agolden spike into his heart. And here I was sit- ting on him. For the next half hour I perspired beads of cold sweat. I didn't dare move. I heard weird sounds. Cries of agony. Peals of insane laughter. Screams of frenzy and even the howl- ing of a lone wolf. Suddenly I froze. A bat crawled up my sleeve toward my throat - - thoughts of Dracula - - I saw a hugh illuminated shadow walk slowly by - -thoughts of Frankenstein, Right there I awoke. I couldn't stand it any longer. I shook the bat from my arm and ran for home as fast asIcould go. One fact was settled in my mind. I'd rather not be a Future Farmer than go through with any more of that initiation. Warren Brawn '42 The Last Mile The warm spring air was still, ex- cept for the rhythmical click-clack of the track spikes as they tapped lightly on the cinders. It was late, nearly time for supper at the dorm: yet, one solitary figure still remained here on the track. The ease with which those long even strides carried him forward showed the perfection which comes only from years of practice and de- velopment. And such it had been. For seven springs, three in high school and now the fourth in college, Dick had been dreaming of what would really happen tomorrow. To- morrow at the inter-collegiate meet Dick would run his last mile before he hung up his spikes and entered, as his father had so firmly insisted, into the business of banking. But he was not pleased, at least not as he had dreamed of being. He had always dreamed of Winning: but now he would not wing that was certain. Never before had he realized the change it would be to settle down to the life of banking. Now, all these things sped through his troubled mind as he ran. As he lay in his bed that night, tossing in restlessness, once more that picture ran through his mind. All those meets in the last four seasons seemed to drift before his eyes. Each time, he saw himself, as he had been beaten, sometimes only by feet,