Old Town High School - Ye Olde Towne Crier Yearbook (Winston Salem, NC)

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THE ROBIN I heard a robin sing today With notes so sweet and clear That like a heav'n sent blessing fell Upon my list'ning ear. I wonder how it is that he Can sing so glad and gay, And where he learned the songs he sings Throughout each summer day. I left my tiresome chores to hear His lilting lay so sweet, And, oh, it smoothed the path beneath My tired and stumbling feet. Too soon my robin flew away, Some other soul to cheer, But tho he went, he left his song, That in my heart I hear. EULA GRAY SI-roms

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saw that little corporation, Deuce Credit Clothing Co. Ten years certainly had changed it. Now there was a model for exclusive men's clothes and the model was none other than Donald Binkley. Then I saw a dentist's office high in the Reynolds Building. There was, Bobby Swaim pulling teeth for all he was worth, and close by to help him with his every need was his devoted little nurse, Betty Jean Cart- wright. The poor lady in the chair seemed to be in a hurry to get back to her two children in the re- ception room. I took a closer look at her and recognized the former Virginia Lee Bowen. She looked happy in spite of Bobby's ministrations. Out in the reception room was another lady holding a baby. Instead of a rattler, the baby was holding a tiny ten pound weight. The lady looked snooty about it all. Why, I knew her when she was just plain Sue Yarborough, not yet the wife of The World's Champion Weight Lifter. There was a real estate oflice right next to Bobby's office. The door was wide open so I could see a pair of feet resting comfortably on the top of a desk. Attached to the feet was Beanie Bowen, dic- tating a letter to his pretty secretary, Alberta Ratledge. I was glad to know that Beanie finally became what he always wanted to be--a big boss with a pretty secretary. The next thing that caught my eye was a little record shop. Instead of booths, there was one big room in which to play all the records you wanted, with plenty of space for dancing, and, wonderful to behold, there were free eats for all. Of all things, there I was running the joint. I always wondered what my life's work would be. About that time, a woman walked into the store, or I should say was dragged in by eight kids. They were actually going to buy a record. It was Shirley Yarbrough and her four sets of twins looking for Mammy, When Is Pappy Coming Home? Next came a short stop at Hanes Gym. Here Cricket McElrath was receiving the Teague award for being the most outstanding girl in the sports world. This was the third year that her basketball abil- ity had won her this award. Farther out in the suburbs of Winston-Salem, I saw the delapidated ruins of Garner Food Company. Yes, Athol had finally run the Garner Company out of business. On the subject of food, I saw Gloria Needham, who was head of a big chain of grocery stores. Just think, it all started with her experience in her father's store. I Out on Reynolda Road I found Helen Coltrane, now D. R. E. of Reynolda church. The next scene was so splendid I could hardly believe my eyes. Here was a huge plantation with Clyde Kearney sitting on the porch of a beautiful old southern home. I guess he decided that since he was going to be a farmer, he might as well do it in true southern style. The next place was dear old Bethania. There, in a little shop at one end of the street, Dudley Spain- hour had set up a business where he personally baked buns and sugar cake for the Moravian Churches. Dudley always was a good cook. A charming young lady came into the store to see if she could get some sugar cake for supper. It was Eula Gray-happily married and still living in Bethania. The scenes were fading now. I got a glimpse of a lonely lighthouse off the coast of North Caro- lina where Ann Ausband, the lighthouse keeper, was busy writing another novel. Then I saw the Coral Gables Night Club in Florida where Barbara Keiger was an entertainer. Next came 'a beautiful modern school right in the middle of a little jungle town in South America where Nancy Horne was trying to drill a little English into the cl'1ildren's heads. Faint and dim grew the pictures. I supposed this was the last I was to see. But wait, there was one more. Surely one of my classmates had not come to this. A poor old bum was stumbling along the railroad track with his few belongings tied in a red handkerchief. It was Jay Giles, and every line in his face seemed to say he was truly sorry for what he had done. Poor thing, he had such a brilliant future in college until he got kicked out for trying to advise the faculty. I sat dazed for a minute, not realizing that everything was suddenly dark. Mother came into the room with a candle. Aren't you in bed yet? This storm has caused all the lights to go out. In reply to my question of what storm?', she merely looked at me as though she thought I mighty be batty. Well, one never knows. JUNE CARTER, Prophet. L'

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THE PATCHWORK QUILT The patterns are ring, and tulip and pathg That her husband built, She doesn't do a thing but sew On a patchwork quilt. All the quilts she has made so far Are lovely to rememberg In the little red-roofed house She's made three since November. Through all che winter she sits and sews, And neatly turns the seams, And sprinkles on her patchwork gay, A thimbleful of dreams. RUBY LEE NICHOLSON. . .... - ' ,-M fs- I '4 , f A X Nfl REQ itil! X lb EXW X 4 If lol l Lf, 2 ,e P-329+ e is Y i l '