Oak Grove Coburn High School - Oak Leaves Yearbook (Vassalboro, ME)

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OAK LEAVES - Since then, Paris. It seems queer that now when I'm so very near Havre, I'm not going straight down the river and embarking. However, the time will go quickly, with southern France, the Pyrenees, the Riviera, the length of Italy, then Switzerland, Oberammergau, Heidelberg, the trip down the Rhine, Holland, and, maybe, a glimpse of England before I re- turn to New York and see you all. The plans for the coming weeks are already taking shape rapidly. There is a movie here that intrigued me, but I think it is better to let movies slip and concentrate on the best plays and operas which one can't see at home. Monday, there will be one of Moliere's plays. Wednesday, Tristran and Isolde at the Grand Opera, and so much more that I will tell you all about when I see you. These are wonderful days I 16

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OAK LEAVES Amphitryon 38, a modern play based on the story of Hercules, son of Jupiter and a mortal, wonderful music at the Russian church, standing next an exiled Russian prince, for all I know, the museum Where R0din's works are shown, and besides all this, fleeting visits to Notre Dame, the Arc de Triomphe, the Luxembourg Gardens, the young New York, the Avenue des Champs Elysees, the Madeleine, the Opera, the Pantheon, the Hotel des Invalides, etc., etc., places that will take real visiting during the next two weeks. Paris itself just delighted me with its symmetric buildings along beautiful streets that lead off to the distant horizon. And every street, it seems, is teeming with memories of what so-and-so did,--Voltaire here and Corneille there, Henry IV here and Louis XIV there, and Napoleon every- where,-and such a host of celebrities who wrote, acted, killed or were killed, and always memories of the terrible days of the Revolution. Any- way-I'm going to have a great two weeks! Beth has been wonderful about initiating me into the points of interest and particularly, to the Way to reach them. She found a room for me before I arrived and has taken me to eat at the Girl's Foyer where prices are fabulously low if you know how to choose your menu, Some dine for less than two francs, partly with the hope of reducing, but since that is not my style I've been extravagantly including meat and still keeping my expense low. Considering that it is Paris and that the food is good, I feel that I am almost saving money. My trip from Nancy to Paris was eventful enough, too. It seemed awful to say good-bye to everybody I had known during the year there, for they have been wonderfully kind to me. Madame Wood herself came to the station with me, seeing me and my two heavy suitcases onto the train for Verdun, where I engaged a room for the night, ate all sorts of queer things, and then parted with two dollars and forty cents for the privilege of riding alone around the forts of Verdun. It hurt to charter a taxi all for myself but I didn't want to leave the section Without seeing a bit of the hard-fought country where the French declared, They shall not pass. I think it was worth it and I shall never forget the awfulness that war leaves. The tour included an exploration of a fort and a visit to a national cemetery where a monument to unknown dead stands out immense against a barren horizon, while all about is the desolation of fields pitted with holes Where once there were villages, cultivated fields and even forests. From Verdun next morning to Reims, riding with a pack of youngsters whom two Red Cross nurses were taking to the seashore made a lively trip. At Reims the Cathedral with its glorious rose window and its muti- lated exterior told an awful story of war. A little distance away from the great cathedral are blocks of new houses, gleaming white stone, with here and there a scarred remnant of a house and sometimes a gaping empty space. 15

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OAK LEAVES DAWN The last hoot of the owl dies away, And pink creeps boldly o'er yon hill- A leaf rustles. A breeze, the herald of the dawn, Over the grass with its secret Hustles-- The secret of a new day. CHARLOTTE QUIMBY. FLOWERETS Tiny flowerets, Hidden in the grass, Nameless waifs, You smile At all who pass,- ' Some that crush you 'Neath their careless feet, Some that love your blossoms Fair and sweet. Patterned f With the shaven grasses green, Forming carpets Fit for any queen, Every day You gently bow And nod, With each Zephyr Sent to you From God. M. C. -i DIANA WEEPS Over the softly rippling water the moon shone in a long path of silver splendor that led to the very horizon and touched heaven. A sleepy cloud wandered near the moon and a sudden breeze stirred like a deep sigh from a distant realm. Into the troubled waters something dropped, disturbed the peaceful night like a low song. A moonstone, clear and glittering, 17