Pennell Institute - Whirlpool Yearbook (Gray, ME)

Page 13 text:

tiously easing himself over the sill. A dim light flashed nervously from one end of the gym to the other. Johnnie snuggled as far down in his chair as he could, wondering what this strange man could be doing here. The figure moved silently down the length of the floor, flashlight ever searching the shadows for something unknown. Suddenly, he stooped, glanced around, then knelt on the floor and began opening the small bag he carried. Soon sharp tools were biting into the wall. Distant footsteps sounded — the stranger stopped work. In his tension, Johnnie looked forward, trving to imagine what this night visitor was doing. and who had interrupted him. As the footsteps came closer. an accompanying whistle became audible. “It must be the jani- tor. thought Johnnie. He was probably looking after the fire. But what of the other man? lle was crouched in the shadows watch- ing, waiting. One of his tools clinked lightly as his foot brushed against it. The janitor paused, glanced nervously around and then, seeing something, cried out. The thief was instantly upon him. A fierce and furious battle followed. By this time, Johnnie was jumping up and down urging the janitor to Sock him! Sock him!” A flash of metal, a deafening roar—and then— Whom did the bullet hit? Was it the mysterious thief, or the poor old jani- tor? Be sure to listen to Murder in the Gymnasium tomorrow, and remember, “Crispy, Crunchy Cornflakes are— Johnnie disgustedly turned off the radio. He would have to wait until tomorrow night to find out what had happened. GERALDINE ACHORN. A STRANGE NOISE One day in the middle of the month of August, 1942, I thought I would go over in our back field to see if the cows had broken through the fence into a piece of corn I had. I knew they were grazing in the field next to it, and if they pushed against the fence hard enough it would give away. When I finally got there, they were still feeding in the field adjoining the corn piece. Instead of going back home after seeing they weren't in the corn, I decided to walk into the corn to see how it was growing. While I was looking it over, I heard some- thing snort several times in the edge of the woods. I couldn't think what it was. I didn't know whether to investigate or not. Although my heart was pounding and I was shaking like a leaf, I finally gained courage to go over to discover what it was. There was a stone wall at the edge of the woods and I walked up behind it just as quietly as I could, ready to run in the oppo- site direction at the slightest movement my way. I was really scared! I peeked down ‘over the wall and let out a yell. There was a doe and two fawns so near I could prac- tically touch them. Boy! Didn't they run when I velled! Thev surely set me back a step or two with their quick start, crashing through the brush. CrirTOoN Hate. A SWELL DAY FOR FISHING Little freckled face Tommy woke up ex- tra early that Saturday morning. It was a bright sunny day : there was no school, and he was going fishing. He quickly got out of bed. put on his blue denims, an old shirt, and rushed out through the door in one breath. He ran to the shed, grabbed the spade and headed toward the garden. As he dug for the worms, he would stop now and then to let the cool earth ooze up between his toes. Gee, it felt good! He finished his digging and proudly surveyed the can of worms, then started back to the house for his fishing pole. an old stick with a piece of line and hook. As he started down the road, whistling. he heard his mother call, Tommy! You come right back into this house and clean up; we are having company today. Tommy stopped dead in his tracks, as his whole dream disappeared before him. Get- ting cleaned up meant a bath. What could be worse! Aw, Maw, I’m going fishing. Not today, his mother said, and that ended it. A good while afterwards, Tommy sat on a chair shining like a new penny. his shoes polished, hair combed, but with a scowl on his face. A fine way to spend a good Satur- day! As he sat there muttering to himself, he heard a familiar voice in the hallway, but Eleven

Page 12 text:

LITERARY UTOPIA, LAND OF DREAMS Station AWOL—meaning “Always Work or Loaf.” Now for our imaginary trip to Utopia. First, we pass through the rocky mountains of Sleuth Gulch where we can always find vicious monsters such as Frank- enstein, the Wolf Man, or Karloff. But let's proceed before it's too late. Next we come to Jitter-bug Avenue where all the hep cats can easily be found. The most famous of their jitterbug steps is to jump into the air and then land on the street with a bang. If you go through the street, the dance is over, but until then the show goes on. Soon we come to Girls' Paradise where males can be found easily who obey all girls' commands. All you have to do is whistle! After that we come to “Swooners’ Hall where Frank and Bing sing nightly. Stretchers are on hand and smelling salts, so you'll be taken care of in case of passing out. , Everyone has money to burn and all fami- lies have at least ten cars, all capable of flying. Houses are made of glass and equipped with private swimming pools filed with ginger ale. We end our tour by coming to the village called Little Utopia. Here everyone is clothed in silks and satins, and adorned with diamonds and gold. Children in this village go to school and spend their time dancing and going to mov- ies. The children have cars of their own. but the boys are not able to drive until they reach the age of fifteen. Girls can drive when ten years’ old. We girls get away with murder. Here we are to our journey's end. Has everybody enjoyed this trip? Station AWOL signing off. Lorraine Horr. Ten FALL BEAUTY The azure sky was splashed with chunks of fleecy white cotton. Overhead the wild geese honked their farewell to the north. 1 roamed along an old lumber road : the dry. brown leaves were crackling like burning birch logs. As I reached the top of a rise I stopped, stunned by the carefree beauty of the wild, plunging stream at my fect. Ordinarily it was slow and sluggish, but swollen recently by heavy rains it now rushed by, rebelling at the frail leaf-dams which tried vainly to hold it back from its wild rush to the sea. Hundreds of Starlings were holding their annual convention in the willow trees which lined its banks. Noticing a movement in the bushes. | stood motionless. Presently, a magnificent buck came out, cautiously raised his antlered head and sniffed the wind. Luckily the wind was in my favor. Satis- fied that all was safe, he looked back whence he had come. Immediately a nimble doe came forward. They stooped to drink the cool water without knowing I was near. Suddenly. a sleek grav, squirrel scurried up. and. seeing me standing at the foot of the huge oak in which he had made his home, started scolding me furiously. The deer im- mediately whirled and, with a flash of a white tail, bounded away into the sheltering woods. Disappointed, I suddenly realized the dusk was slowly drawing the curtains of night and that I must leave my wanderings until some future day. Reluctantly, I turned my back on the stream and started home. Far WILSON. MURDER IN THE GYMNASIUM Johnnie Williams, age seven, sat listening to the patter of rain on the roof and waited. Suddenly, in one of the rooms a window opened slowly with a faint creak. A foot, a leg, then the whole body of a man was cau-

Page 14 text:

paid no attention ‘til his big brother Bill walked in, home from the Navy. Maybe missing the fishing wasn't so bad after all. R After dinner that day, Tommy was again dressed in his old clothes, and walking down the road proudly looking at his brother. In one hand he carried a can of worms, in the other a new fishing rod. “Gosh! Bill, it’s a swell one,” Tommy said, as they rounded the bend in the road. Viora HATCH. A HUNTING TRIP It was on November 11, Armistice Dav. I arose early to do some hunting. The day was cold and bleak with rain drizzling down frem a dark and somber sky. Taking my 9 m.m. sports rifle. I started ovt into the woods. Each blade of grass and ezch overhanging limb was covered by great glistening drops of water which would fal. on you at the slightest touch. I had traveled about three miles into the weods when I heard someone shouting and whistling. I did not pay any attention to it. however, and kept on going. Suddenly. I stopped! That was a call for help! At once I started in the direction of the person who was calling. As I advanced nearer, I whistled a reply. I kept traveling. but the reply still seemed far away. Then I stopped whistling, but continued to go forward. I came to a small opening. There, going in the opposite direction, was a young hoy. Calling to him, I asked him what was wrong. He said that he was lost. He had heard me whistle but thought I was in the opposite direction. He was a dusty-haired, freckled faced boy, with clothes that matched. Ie told me he was thirteen years' old and came from Portland. He said that he was with his two brothers and his father : that his brother had left him on the top of a hill, but as he became restless he started to wander around and had become lost. Even after I had led him to a black road. he still did not know where he was. I met a friend of mine in his car who offered to help us hunt for the boy's car. We had gone only a short distance when we met one of the boy's brothers, who took him back to his car. Although I did not get a deer, I felt that the trip was worth while. ROBERT SLATER. Tuclre THE FIRST SIGNS OF SPRING The last of the winter's snow was melt- ing away, forming little rivers throughout the land. The sun was riding high. and there was an air of soft contentment everywhere. A robin, just back from the South was blithely singing a joyous spring song. The trees and the grass were becoming a beautiful shade of dull. moss-green. The buds on the trees were just beginning to ap- pear. filling the air with a sweet, flowery fragrance. The word Spring, in itself, leaves one feeling light-hearted and gay. and at peace with the world. JEATRICE COOPER. SLEIGH RIDE IN .DECEMBER The snow is falling earthward in large. white, star-shaped flakes. Tonight I am to go on my first sleigh ride! Cousin Danny has described to me, several times, the beauty of it all. First. we dash into the sleigh and tuck the warm. fleecy blankets around our small, shivering bodies. Then, as suddenly as a crash of thunder, we were on our way. The dappled-grey horses run briskly and their hoof prints leave a trail behind us in the soft sparkling snow. Everybody is happy and carefree and singing the songs of the Yule- tide. Cousin Dan adds that the horses like music because they seem almost to be dauc- ing in time to the singing. Sleigh rides should always be on starry nights when the heavens are crowded with twinkling stars and Mr. Moon seems to have a grin on his face which almost spells out “Have a good time! He helps add beauty to the night by his light reflected on the glittering snow. The time is short and I must get ready. Excited? I guess I am! Do you blame me? LonRAINE llorrT. FOREST FIRE Gee, I wish someone would come up on à tour, or report a fire, or something. It gets so darn lonely up here. I'll go crazy pretty soon.”