Norwell High School - Shipbuilder Yearbook (Norwell, MA)

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Ma Delivrance I know that when I leave the American Embassy here in Prague I shall be on my own. I dare not run the risk of staying any longer. I must leave the city. Keenly observing all the passersby, I cautiously move to the crowded side- walk. That secretive being who has haunted my footsteps from Moscow to Prague may be following me right now. Three times, he almost had me, but each time, by some stroke of luck, I was able to elude again, he is hot on my trail. I telephoned had been there and made a complete search. room! He can look through them all day and it with me,here in this suitcase. What do I still not If him---and his companions. Once my apartment and was told that he care if he searches my find it, because I have I can just get on that midnight train without being recognized I will be safe. No longer will I have to hide from those persistent fiends who have haunted my every-moment for the past two weeks. Once be safe. With my scarf high on my neck and my hat over my shadows of the railway terminal. My train is waiting start the trip to the border. I walk hurridly across ramp. I stop and turn to take one last fitful glance aboard that train I will eyes, I move through the on a siding, ready to the station to the train over my shoulder. Egadl There he is, sprinting toward me with two very large and mean-looking men close behind him. They must not get it. I will never give it ups I dart down a stairway leading from the station platform. They follow in hot pursuit. I run along a series of underground tracks until I come to another stairway leading into the station. Two steps at a time over the stairs I race, and then I scramble aboard my train just as it is pulling out of the station. Hurrah! I am free. I am safe. Now I can look at my prize. They have chased me across two countries to recover this priceless treasure. Ak! Here it is. That beautiful piece of cotton. The turkish towel that I swiped from the Lenin Hotel in Moscow, U.S.S.R. John Cashman Lament of an Expiring Student Monday is a hurried, sleepy bustle- 'X'4SSff 0, School again, the weekend's gone. J In , Tuesday's the stinging realization , Q 1.9 That Freedon has fled and the crush is on. 7 f Wednesday promises anticipation- . ' I Two more days and the finale is near. QQ If Thursday-is my usual day afterg 5 X X One dying breath and all is clear. 4, Finally it's Friday and exhilaration men, as every dragged student knows, We escape our hurried, tortured wardens- Namelys Mrs. Taylor, Joyce and Vose. Saturday is come, the day has arrived! A relaxing movie is our chosen place, But Sunday is spent in doing homework In frenzied expectation of Uonday's rat-race! Judy Adams March March came in like a lion this year. F7792 The wind and snow we all could hear. 4-S iii? It blew and snowed and snowed and blew, :gf 66 0 And there was not a thing that we could do. 4 The basketball team of Nor-wen High Waved on Friday and said nGood-byen. X Q Off to the Island they did go, Just to be welcomed with wind and snow. It's a shame they had such terrible weather. Maybe next year March will come in better. Paul Robinson 25

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High Society at New York This was High's big opportunity and she knew it. She had to do it. This was her chance! These thoughts ran through High Societyfs mind as she stood proudly in her stall. In a few hours were the stake classes. Now, she had one chance left, and only oneg to win the three-gaited stake class and become the champion three-gaited horse of the year. Beside her in the next Stall stood her rival, Sweater Girl. Would High Society beat Sweater Girl? High heard the familiar voices of her groom and her rider as the two nervous and excited horsemen walked to her stall. She knew her grooming was about to begin. Off came her sheet and cooler, and then her jowl sweater. Her tail set was left on for the time being. She was brushed and brushed again. She was buffed with a towel and some hay. Next her teeth were wiped and the blackening on her two hoofs shined. Finally High's tail set was removed and her tail throughly brushed and combed. The all-important brilliantine was applied to her hocks and the other spots which would glisten under the floodlights. About a half hour later she was all Wtacked upn and ready to go. The famil- iar cry from the loud speaker blatedz NAll horses entering the three-gaited class at the gate, please.n The trainer threw Barbara, the girl who was to ride Society, into the saddle and led horse and rider to the gate. They would try to enter the ring first, since the first and last horse entering usually attracts the judges attention. nLet 'em in,n cried the loud speaker. The trainer grabbed Society's bridle and ran her into the ring. As he let go, he gave Society a quick pat of en- Oouragement. Rider and horse flew around the ring at a quick trot and then crossed in front of the judges stand. nAll horses walkn was the next command. Every glimmer- ing piece of horseflesh was pulled to a quick walk, the judges eyed each beauty carefully, watching for the most minute mistake. HAll trotan This was the most important command to High Society and Barbara. Now they must excelg this was the only chance. This trot had to be superb. Society's conformation was a little lacking, and the trot had to make up for it. A good trot is a necessity to a saddle horse. Around the ring they shot. Her tail, was it straight? This was take and pass practiced the of speed sent it. High was coming up behind Sweater Girl but she must over- her opponent. Barbara urged High on. So many times they had every move for this High Society flying pace? Perfected action and style from Society after that. She was stripln moment. words of encouragement and a burst pastSweater Girl. Could Society keep this did it! The judges never took their eyes pegged on top even after the cry of 'All That lucky and wonderful number! Ten minutes later I heard it. NNumber 13 is the winner,H blatted out across the hushed and impatient audience. There was great applause as the steaming, foaming chestnut broke from her faultless spread and trotted up to the winners circle to receive the blue ribbon and the 310,000 cash award. Tonia Walsh ig 1 4 fHgXx,, -fs- 24

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Until The End The sun shone with intense brilliance upon the two weary travelers. It had been a week since they had last seen another human face. Escape was hard even for the toughest of men. It seemed longer than those few short days since they had left their coastal hideout and had gone elephant hunting to relieve the con- stant monotony of fear. After being surprised by a family of albino gorillas, they had been separated from their guides and gun bearers. Neither Dan Bradey nor Phil Darnell were frightened of the giant animals but the natives who considered the apes as sacred gods were crazed with fear. The blackmen believed that those who looked upon a white gorilla were doomed. The region surrounding Lake Victoria in French West Africa is swampy, full of insects, disease, and man-killing beasts. without the gufdes it became impossible to find the trail home. The damp moss-covered ground was soft to their footsteps and the bushy vine-entangled undergrowth was almost inpenetrable. Hidden beds of quicksand awaited a careless step. The sun shone warm in the day but the nights brought cold and dampness. Being lost in this paradise of beasts, together with these unbearable condi- tions, weakened and depressed these hardened gangsters into a state where fear was the only force which drove them forward. The men came upon a large river and fol- lowed it for several miles. The jungle was less dense toward the south. Three days later they reached drier land. nere the trees were not so tall and the thin undergrowth took on a brownish color. As the couple moved forward, the only vegetation was the thorn cactus and the dry witch grass. They welcomed the chance to cut open a cactus and fill their canteens for the last time. The sun had shone unceasingly fourteen hours a day for the last week. Bradey and Darnell both became sick from the heat and nearly blind from the intense rays. Theirbodies felt scorched from the desert heat and watery blisters rose from the uncovered skin on their backs and brokeg the salty contents running into the jungle inflicted wounds, bringing more torture. The wind-flung sand stung these open sores. The men's tongues were swollen. Sand gritted between the teeth. Their eyes retracted into the sockets. As they struggled farther, the barren waste was devoid of all vegetation, even the tough cacti. Bradey, being a greedy man, had already emptied his canteen and now eyed the half-filled flask hanging from Darnell's neck. The constant sloshing of the water as Darnell walked made Bradey more eager. The flask was the only means of prolonging this misery, which must eventually end in death, but any animal, no matter how primitive his brain, will cling to any source of existence to its dying breath. So it was with this wretched man. This was one time in the lives of both men when money and blazing guns would do them no good. Bradey was intent on seizing the remaining water in any way possible. He made up his mind to kill Darnell. Following in the trail behind Darnell, Bradey pulled his sidearm from its holster and leveled the gun at Darnell's back. The gun barked and Darnell lurched forward on his face. He quivered spasmodically and then lay still. Bradey stood back and watched death. Bradey then rushed forward and rolled the body over in time to see the last few drops of water trickle from the pierced container. Down on his knees, Bradey clutched at the moistened sand as the vultures circled lower. Tom Peachey Roses are yellowg Violets are white. You think I am wrong, But I really am right. Bryan Reed 26