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

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NEWPORT, MAINE Y Z.. ig 1 23 silencep and everything went black. It was the end. Everything around him seemed to swirl and go black. He took a few faltering, stumbling steps and fell to the ground with a numb thud. His last thoughts, as the pain in his side seemed to pull his weary body into knots of pain, were that he had at least tried. Although Dick would never know, those last stumbling steps had carried him across the finish line. He was the winner and establisher of a new national record for the mile run. At Trilon they no longer use the cry, Do or Die for Dear Old Trilon- In memory of one who did both, there stands a marble monument in front of the Memorial Gymnasium. Leon Gray '42 ...i Villll Out Where The Daisies Grow Last night I thought I'd take a walk Out where the daisies grow. The moon was shining brightly down: The field was white like snow: And as I tiptoed softly round With shadows at my side, I saw the little fairies run To find a place to hide. One little fairy lost his cap QA little golden thingl Another fairy in his haste, Dropped a dusty wing. I picked them up and brushed them off, And tucked them both away Until some night that I'd return To watch the fairies play. And then I gently tiptoed off To let each daisy rest And let each little fairy climb Out from his daisy nest. And when the morning comes again, Each daisy will arise And lift her little dewey head And open wide her eyes. And then each little fairy runs To find a daisy white, To sleep all day beneath the shade And wait until the night. Then out again each fairy comes Beneath the moon's bright glow. It's really very beautiful Out where the daisies grow! Alice M. Whittaker '44 Long May It Wave Our dear old starry banner Floats high above the trees, The redg white, and blue banner A rippling in the breeze. So high above the ocean, So high above the land, Waving out our liberty For which the Americans stand. Over peril and disaster It stately holds its place Among the high and mighty, In honor and in grace. To wave above our freeland The home of the brave The Star Spangled Banner Till eternity shall wave. Bertha Russell '43

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22- Y - - V Yrff - H -W--nf--4, W-he--in We-f-+l THE LIVE WIRE but always by that same one, Martin. Always he had gone on, hoping that sometime he might speed past Martin in that last stretch of a mile, and hear those cries of praise which always greet a winner. Now the last chance had come. He had trained as he had never trained before until now he was in the peak of condition and his hopes the highest ever - - until - - today Coach Morse had called him to his office and said, Dick, tomorrow is the National Championship meet. If we can take the mile we've got a very good chance to win. Now, I've been looking over the competition and it's pretty tough even for Martin. Now here's the way I've got it figured. If you were to run and set a very fast pace, it would be necessary for the whole field except Martin to stay with you. Thus Martin would be able to conserve his power to the last quarter mile and as the others are exhausted from following you, he could win the race easily. I realize this race means a lot to you: therefore you can do as you like: but if we lose the mile its foutsb for us. But as I said before, make up your own mind, and don't do it if you really d0n't think it's the best idea. Of course he had agreed, but with it had gone his last chance. What an end after four years of struggling! The next day dawned warm and pleasant. The field which was so quiet last night now was filled with a milling crowd of spectators fighting their way to the fast filling bleachers. Dick sat slouched on the bench, mech- anically watching the events until the call came. First call for the mile! Slowly he rose, removed his warm-up suit and took the usual warming-up exercises ending with one slow lap around the half-mile track. Last call for the mile! the an- nouncer called outg and a group of men representing colleges all over the nation took their respective positions at the starting line. After the usual confusion of arranging the runners, the starter raised the gun. On your marks: get set, and they were off at the sound of the gun. The crowd roared hysterically as Dick sprinted out for a twenty yard lead and set a killing pace. At the quarter mark, he led thirty yards and at the half, by fifty. Then, as if some of those muscles of his shapely legs had run out of fuel, his pace began to slow and the length of those bouncing strides shortened. At the three- quarter mark his lead was even less. His lungs burned like two furnaces within his chest: the muscles of his legs pulled and knotted in pain from overworkg and a pain like the cutting of a sharp knife ran through his right side. Behind him he heard, a- bove the distant sounding cries of the crowd, the pounding of feet. Soon Martin would speed by, winning again. Dick cast a glance over his shoulder and what he saw sent a tingle of surprise through his body. It was not Martin! It was Jones from Boston! He must run, not only for himself, but also for dear old Trilon. Ahead loomed the finish line: behind him the pounding of feet drew nearer and nearer. The pain in his side grew sharper and sharper. He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes to fight it off, yet, with each step the pain grew greater. Then something with- in him seemed to snap: the cries of the crowd seemed to fioat away into

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241 .-77 . The Class of 'LH Who's that running up the stairs Caught by teachers unawares, Smiling as though they had no cares? That's the class of '41 Who have the pep that brings unrest When kept in class room by a test, But do most work with honest zest? That's the class of '41 Who love their school with all their might For whom they will always fight, Upholding e'er its ideals right? That's the class of '41 Who respect and honor each teacher kind, And all their efforts to make us mind, And ask forgiveness for faults you find? That's the class of '41 Henry Vance '41 Newport High School From the basements below to the hall up above, Newport High School 'tis you we all love, Your classrooms are old: I know this is true, But the faces within are always new. Fond memories of you we will ever cherish, Such a fine institution must never perish. Though soon we're to leave you to Hnd our place in the sun, We hope you'll remember the class of 'forty-one. Eddie Towne '41 I V' THE LIVE WIRE The Qld Elm Tree A sudden thought once came to me As I looked at the old Elm tree. It's branches almost touched the ground, So still, so still, not e'er a sound. I looked at it and thought in vain, I thought that I would call its name. Oh, Mr. Tree, do speak to me. He smiled and said ' 'Do you inean me? I am so lonely, Mr. Tree, Won't you please come play with me? I have some dollies and dishes you see, A table so they can all have tea. The old elm tree just smiled and said, My little child. you thought me dead? I am alive as you may see, And I will come and play with thee. Mary Brewer '44 yum V' MCh I have a little school chum Who stays with me all day, Is more than I can say. ,VP I'm not at all as dark as she, ,W 'YM Nor am I quite as small, And tho she seems to think I'm nice, I'm not so nice at all. So you can't blame me if I think She's something you should see, Because I tell you here and now She's one swell pal to me. Dedicated to M. Boylan by Beverly Stuart '42 And what she seems to think of merifp W ffl