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

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THE LIVE WIRE l31l the table. The food was cold and the coffee was all gone. After burning my fingers four times, I got my breakfast. I glanced at the clock and decided it must be Wrong, it couldn't be that late. I made a scramble back upstairs and decided to put on the very first thing I found. It happened to be a pair of my father's size 40 breeches. They were a little long in the legs, so I turned them up a bit. The too large waist was easily fixed with a large safety pin. I decided I must have something to go with the pants, so I donned one of his best shirts. Even if the outfit was a little baggy, it didn't matter. I also noticed I had one red plaid sock on and the other was a brilliant yellow. I 'combed my hair, which had a slight resemblance to my mother's dust mop, and gave my teeth a glance of the toothbrush. When I tried to find my books I was thoroughly convinced that some kind friend had disposed of them. I heard an urgent blast of a horn that must belong to the school bus. I grabbed my brother's wool shirt that was close by and made a dash for the door. I arrived at the bus breathless, sleepy and played out. I wondered Why they ever had school on Monday mornings. Eleanor Wing ,47 It -k :r A PERFECT LITTLE MAN The children made a snowman Out under the big oak tree, They used a carrot for his noseg Made eyes so he could see. I He's just as broad as he is tall, In fact, he's much too fat, But just one visit from Dr. Bain VVill soon take care of that. I think he's the most pleasant man I've seen in a good long while, For, even though he's made of snow, He has a big, warm smile. He's just a perfect gentleman. He never would talk back If you went out and knocked him down. Now find another man like that! He never speaks a11 unkind word, He never tells a lie. Heis never been known to frown or pout, And heis never been known to cry. He just stands there as big as day. We never hear him complain, Sometimes I'm afraid he wouldnit say If he really was in pain. But soon the children must say goodfbye To their little man so dear, For the sun will make a date with him And then heill disappear. I know we all will miss him then, Seems a shame he has to go, For we never could find another man Like this little man of snow. Marilyn Chase ,48 an 4: an LOOK BEFORE YOU LEAP Perched ion a ledge ten stories up on the front of a hotel, Ken tried to mus- ter enough courage to leap to his death and end his miserable life. Ann, his young wife, was gone, his job lost, and the future held nothing but wretched- ness. He had done much thinking while in the balance of life and death on that afternoon. Ken and Ann had been mar-

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NEWPORT HIGH SCHOOL l30l she coughed a hollow, hacking cough, and drew around her an old black shawl that she wore. The expression on the face of the magistrate remained un- changed, but his eyelids dropped and he did not raise them when the woman continued: As I say, no man can defend me. I am too near that awful separation of soul and 'body. Years ago, I was a child of brightest promise. I lived with my parents in Kentucky. Wayward and light-hearted, I was admired by all the gay society known in the neighboring town. A man came and professed his love for me. I don't say this, Iudge, to excite your sympathy. I have many and many a time been drawn before courts, but I never before spoke of my past life. S-he coughed again and coughed a flow of blood on a handkerchief which she pressed to her lips. I speak of it now because I know that this is the last court on earth before which I will be arraigned. I was nineteen years old when I fell in love with the man. My father said he was bad, but I loved him. My father said that I could never come home again, after we had eloped and had been married. I had always been his pride and had loved him dearly, but he said that I must never again come to his home, my home, the home of my youth. Hfow I longed to see him! How I yearned to put my head on his breast. My husband became addicted to drink. He abused me. I w1'ote to my father, asking him to let me come home, but the answer that came was 'I don't know youl' My husband died-yes, cursed God and diedl Homeless and wretched, and with my little boy, I went out into the world. My child died, and I blowed down and wept over a pauper's grave. I wrote to my father again, but he an- swered, 'I don't know those who dis- obey my comm-andmentsf I turned away from that letter, hardened. I spurned my teachings. Now, I am heref, Several lawyers rushed forward. A crimson stream flowed from her lips. They leaned her lifeless head back against the chair. The old magistrate had not raised his eyes. 'fGreat Cod! said a lawyer, He is dead. The dead woman was his daughter. Hanna Haapanen '47 1 4 -u MONDAY MORNING BLUES I lay in my cozy, warm bed and dreaded to throw back the covers. A persistent voice broke into my thoughts for a third time, calling This is the last time I'm going to call you. What's the matter? Arenit you going to school this morning? I began throwing back the covers one by one and sat up. Why did they ever invent school, anyway. I got a glimpse of myself in the vanity mirror, and what a sight! I didn't know any- one's hair could stand up so straight in all directions, and my eyes were still heavy with sleep. With lagging motions I started to dress. I tried to remember where my blue sweater was. Good heavens, I had left it-yah, where? Finally, getting discouraged and giving it up as hopeless, I decided to eat my breakfast and dress later. Since I couldn't find my slippers, I paddled down stairs in my bare feet. I guess I must have been a little late for break- fast, for everyone had long since left

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NEWPORT HIGH SCHOOL l32l ried for a year, and they were to have a baby. Now he would never see his child. He had been drunk for two weeks, ever since he had lost his job. Ann had left him in a drunken stupor, as she had threatened many times to do. When Ken awoke he found a note telling him his wife had gone. Then he realized how wrong he had been. In his opinion, everything was lost. There was nothing in the future for him. How he longed for another chance. From the street there arose the soft, murmurous noise of milling, gathering excitement seekers. To Ken there were a thousand intimacies in the sounds. Brakes screamed somewhere. From far away came the sound of music very faint and uncertain. Often he heard horns blast. The street shimmered in the baking sun, and perspiration ran down the young man's face as he watched the police trying vainly to dis- perse the crowd. A group of firemen with a large round net had been stand- ing all afternolon Where they thought the suicide would land. Other policemen and firemen were stringing a net across the front of the hotel a few stories below the ledge, and still others had been talking continu- ously with him, trying to discourage him in his attempt on his life. Meanwhile, a search was being made for Ann. VVhen it began to grow dark the crowd broke up and shuffled away in different directions. Ken would get it over with now. He must delay no longer. He leaned out, far out, and closed his eyes, but he caught a glimpse of a woman leaning out a window in an apartment across the street. It was Ann! But what could he do? It was too late, he had lost his balance. He went careening down, down toward the side- walk. If only he had been sensible. Perhaps that net stretched across the front of the building was secure enough to save him. Thank God! He landed in the middle of it. He was saved. As he scrambled to a window and was helped in by two policemen he gazed down to what would have been a certain death. Soon Ann was there and explained that she had only meant by the note that she would be gone until evening, visiting with a friend across the street. The judge heard the story and ar- ranged for Ken to be given a job. Ken was more than thankful and learned to use liquor more wisely. Jack Randall ,47 at nf -0- THE STREAM Between a break in the forest Ran a cool, blue stream. Over the rocks and through gullies It ran as if in a dream. It passed the tall, white birches, And floated noiselessly by. It served as a home for the sly ones Below the azure blue sky. No one knows where it is going, As it quickly winds its way, Through the deep, dark forest As endless as the day. It seemed to flow on forever, As the clouds float up above. Could it be, my friend, That this stream is seeking its love? Jean Finnemore '47