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

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THE LIVE WIRE All the things you say? A soldier would like to know, my friend, What did you do today? We met the enemy today And took the town by storm. Happy reading it will make For you tomorrow morn. You'll read With satisfaction The brief communique We fought, but are you fighting? What did you do today? My gunner died in my arms today, I feel his warm blood yet. Your neighbor's dying boy gave out A scream I'll never forget. On my right a tank was hit, A flash and then a fire. The stench of burning flesh Still rises from the pyre. ' What did you do today, my friend, To help us with the task? Did you work harder and longer for him, Or is that too much to ask? What right have I to ask you this? You probably will say, Maybe now you'll understand, You see-I died today. GHOSTS Have you ever seen a ghost? Well, let me tell you, friend, I have-and believe you me, I don't want to again. It happened on a dark, black night, When everything was still. I was coming back from visiting A friend up on the hill. I heard the darndest, wierdest cry, It made my bones turn raw: I peeked out through my half-closed I eyes, And this is what I saw. A giant ghost, all garbed in white, Came jogging down the hill. I shook and shivered like an old Ford car - While standing there, stock still. His robe went down below his knees, His hair draped out behind, His arms were long, and angled down, His feet I could not find. His ribs stuck out like piano keys, His jaws contained no teeth. His chest and head floated all alone With his hips and legs beneath. The last thing that I seemed to see. As everything went black, Was a face that had most everything With a built-in shelf in back. Next morning when I came around, The Doc laughed at my moan, He said, I quote, Next time, my lad, Just leave the stuff alone ! John Webb, Jr. THE NATlON'S JITTERBUGU He was once the town's favorite glamour-boy With his filthy saddle-shoes And his glassy ringlets hanging down, With wave-set did they ooze. His skin-tight trousers were rolled up To show his fiashy socks Of orange, yellow, blue, and red And plaids and polka-dots. His favorite hang-out was a place Where he could cut the rug. Oh boy! Oh boy! He's in the groove. The nation's jitterbug! E21l

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NEWPORT HIGH SCHOOL ' It took a lot of grit, but he man- aged to lift up his head and tried to forget his troubles. Next Saturday John decided to go fishing. It was the only way'to com- fort himself. He got his rod and bait, and slowly made his way through his father's pasture, into the woods, and across the birch grove until he came to the brook. He sat down on a rock and cast his line. As he sat there brooding, something told him to go down-stream toward the dam. It will be better fishing there anyway, he thought. Just as he rounded the bend, he saw Tommy, Mr. Jones' son, standing on the three foot dam casting his line. Even as John watched, the boy lost his balance and fell into ten feet of icy water. John was torn between right and revenge. Why should I help him? His father ruined my chance to pitch. But John knew he was wrong. I've got to help him. Mother said never to seek revenge, he said aloud. While he spoke, he ran to the dam and dived unflinchingly into the cold water. It seemed hours while he groped his way over the rocks and weeds. Just as he had given up, he found the boy. It seem- ed as if his lungs would burst before he could get to the surface with his burden. It's a lucky thing for Tom I took First Aid, he muttered to himself, as he did his best to revive him. It was a proud and successful John that carried Tommy back to his father. Mr. Jones answered the door- bell. After hearing John's story, he scowled. I thank you very much for saving my son, he said tartly, tak- ing Tommy into the house and slam- ming the door. John felt sick all over. He wanted to cry, but he bucked it all and went home. ' Next Monday morning John went to the road and got the mail for his mother. He glanced at a letter ad- dressed to him. When he opened it, this is what he read: My Dear John, I hope you will accept my gift of gratitude. You are welcome to use my new car for the rest of your school year. Your Friend, J. W. Jones. H VERSE Hadley Smith, '47. Lines written by Lt. Chatlain, who amputated his foot with a jackknife and then thought he was going to die. He was rescued after two hours of hiding and is now recuperating in England. I WHAT DID YOU DO TODAY? What did you do today, my friend, From morning 'till the night? How many times did you complain That rationing was too tight? When are you going to start to do l .

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NEWPORT HIGH SCHOOL His hands were soft and pink and white. He didn't have to work. He had to concentrate on jive. The poor, insipid jerk, But things have changed for him at last. He's lost his saddle-shoes, And fiashy socks, and jazz-bow ties And colored hair wave goos. His lovely curly locks are cut Off close up to his head. His smooth white hands he prized so much Are now all rough and red. It's what he needs! It'll do him good! He'll some day be a man, Instead of just a Jitterbug The hep-cat of the land. We want to thank you Uncle Sam, A million times, and how!! We're rid of the obnoxious droop. He's in the Navy now!! Alice Whittaker. GOOD OLD MAINE I'm glad I live in good old Maine Where our game of life is open, For we play that game the American way, ' And our slogan is Well, here's hopin'. I'm glad I live in good old Maine Where our souls are still our own, Where we can shout out what we think I Without fear of a dictaphone. I'm glad I live in good old Maine With our old red, white and blue, Where, in the most improbable ways, The impossible things come true. Howard Gray. SPRING I find that things are lighter now, That life is twice as sweet. I want to hold my head up high, While walking down the street. My heart beats come in leaps and bounds, My lungs expand with ease, I work and play with equal joy On warm, bright days like these. My head is clearg my thoughts are clean, Yes, everything is fine. I wouldn't take e'en gasoline For this great life of mine. The reason is as plain as day, For my bewildering, If you can keep a secret, please, You see, my friend-it's spring. Louise Wiers. THE RISE OF A NATION We shall rise a better nation When the battle cry is o'er, When our troubled days are over, And the cannon cease to roar, And a love of right and duty I Will fill the land once more. We shall thank our God All Mighty That the days of strife are o'er. Richard Scott. THE MILKY WAY A thousand dainty stars Shed radiance through the night, Sprinkled across a deep, deep blue A band of silvery light. God's bridge to heaven, Where Knights of old can ride, And elfins run in stardust E221