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Page 24 text:
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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
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Page 23 text:
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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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Page 25 text:
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THE LIVE WIRE Or golden fairies slide. Like diamonds they glitter, A most enchanting sight, Piercing through a velvet blueg A hazy Wreath of light. Clusters of precious jewels Shine thru' a clear, cool night, Faintly smiling down at us. That misty cloud of light. Phyllis Whittaker. LOVE What is love? said Johnny Brown To his older sister Sue. I can't understand about it at all. Do you really think you do ? Well, Sue began to tell him . The accurate meaning of love She said, It was angels blessings Sent from the heavens above. Love's like a case of spring fever. It makes your heart play a tune, And it may end With Wedding bells In April, May, or June. Love's like a sandman's pleasant dream, With all beautiful things surround- ing. Love's like a garden of trees and shrubs, And beautiful flowers abounding. Now do you see, said Sister Sue To little Johnny Brown, What love is and Why the angels Order it sent down ? Yes, said John, I think I do, And his face began to blush, It's all good things put into one I And ends in kisses and mush. It's when a guy looks at a girl And thinks she's like a dove, ' And, if he finds she has some dough, Well, Brother, he's in love. Joyce Emerson. ODE 'FO THE ANT A curious creature The industrious ant. A double feature Of rambling and rant. Entomologists rate him A creature of brains. They record his cities, The armies he trains. He professes religion, Casts ballots, holds slaves. Holds courts of conviction To sentence his knaves. Entomologists can claim Educational training. But I don't give him credit To go in when it's raining. Theo Wiers RATION BOOK BLUES We haven't any sugar, We've used our points for shoes, We haven't much of anything, Except those ration blues. But why should we be kicking About our ration books, While our boys are out there fighting To wipe out the Axis crooks? Weive had to give up pleasure driv- ing, But don't let that get you down. There is still a horse and buggy To take you into town. Some say you can't have any fun, I .
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