Pennell Institute - Whirlpool Yearbook (Gray, ME)

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This was said by Lee Rodnick, a forest ranger, stationed on top of a mountain in New Hampshire. No one had been near the place for weeks. The only time Lee saw people was when he went on his monthly trip to Cutler’s Village, which was thirty miles away, for grub. Jim Cranston, who was another forest ranger, was stationed on a peak about ten miles away. He had been a ranger for over twenty years, so he never got lonely, but to Lee, who was new in the game, time dragged very slowly. He would talk for hours on the telephone to Jim every day, but the wind- storm last night had blown down Lee's lines, so now he sat gazing at the blue sky and the silent, dark forest. Suddenly, he saw a small, gray cloud ris- ing slowly upward. Lee jumped up on his feet, and grabbed his binoculars. Yes, it was a fire. He could see no flames, but he knew that where there's smoke, there's fire. He located its position, then yanked down the ‘phone. Ranger Rodnick calling Headquarters, he yelled, but no one answered. There was only the silent blankness of a dead wire. Then he remembered the telephone was out. He stood up staring out of the win- dow at that gray cloud which was now stretching out in a long line. “Jim will see it, he thought. But then he realized that a large cliff would block it out of Jim’s range. It would be fully thirty minutes before he would be able to see it. Dy then, no one knew what damage it would do. “What can I do? he asked himself. What would Jim do if he were caught like this?” Then he thought of Cinder. He flung open the door, and practically slid down the ladder. Cinder heard him coming and whin- nied to him. Lee opened the door, grabbed the saddle, and flung it on her. She seemed to sense that they must hurry and opened her mouth readily for the bit when he strapped the bridle on her. He leaped on her back, and they galloped down the trail that led to Jim's. There was no wind. The only sound was Cinder's hoofs beating out a rhythmic tattoo on the hard-packed forest trail. She was a fast horse and knew the trail well. Lee placed all his faith in those slender, black legs. But what if Cinder should trip over a tree root and injure her leg? What if the wind had blown down Jim's line, too? Lee urged Cinder on faster and pushed these thoughts out of his mind. Cinder was sure-footed, he knew, and Jim's line couldn't have blown down. It just couldn't. They had been riding for almost twenty minutes. Lee could see Jim's tower in the distance. Cinder was flecked with foam and had slowed down some, but she was still do- ing her best. Suddenly, Lee saw someone riding swiftly down the trail towards him. He recognized the horse as one of Jim's long-legged speeders. “Hello, there, he called. Jim waved his hand and pulled up his horse when he came beside Lec. What are you doing over here? I saw vou from the tower and figured something was up. You sure figured right! There's a fire over at the foot of Heaven's Cliffs. It was only small when I left, but it has probably spread quite a bit by now. You'd better ride back to the tower and report it as quickly as possible. Cinder and I will come up behind. She is pretty well exhausted. Jim was already on his way. His horse seemed to fly over the ground. Cinder sud- denly found a new burst of speed and raced after him, but was soon left behind. Lee laughed and whacked her affection- ately. “Cindy, old girl, if you want to race, don't pick on Tony. He's too fast for you.” It seemed as if Jim had taken all of Lee's troubles away with him. He knew he could depend on him. Soon he reached Jim's tower. He turned Cinder loose to wander, though he hated to see so much fine timber destroyed. Jim was coming down the ladder, which rather surprised Lee, who thought he should stay up and watch the fire in case the wind arose. Then he realized Jim was laughing. Jim, what's the matter with you? Have you gone crazy ? Jim just stood there leaning against the ladder and laughing. At last, when he was able to talk, he looked at Lee. You and your fires, he said, trving to sound disgusted. “Why, what's wrong with them? re- turned Lee, rather peeved. Thirteen

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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.”

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Well, that one happened to be one of these planes that dust for insects. The ‘smoke’ you saw was dust.” Lee stared at him unbelievingly. Just then a large plane zoomed over, leaving a white cloud of dust trailing out behind it. He looked at Jim, then he, too, began to laugh. Well, Tim, I guess I've still got a lot to learn, haven't I? Come on, Cinder. I guess we'd better go. By the way, Jim, call up the office and have them fix my line, will you? I'm not riding this distance again on a false alarm. Fae WILSON. THE STATUE OF LIBERTY On Bedloe Island, in Upper New York Bav, stands America’s greatest lady, greet- ing ships as they come into the harbor. A wonderful vision to home-coming travelers and immigrants coming to the Promised Land, she stands on a star-shaped base and holds her torch 300 feet in the air. If you were to climb the 350 steps to her head where 40 people can stand comfortably, vou would see the New York skyline and har- bor spread out below you. The statue was given to America in 1886 by France, and was made a National Monument in 1924 by President Coolidge. The war department. takes care of her, because it is the site of Fort Wood, an important military radio sta- tion. During the war, the torch was in dark- ness, and people were not permitted to visit the statue because of the grand sight offered by the harbor. But now, she shines again for all the world to see. Yes, she is our own Statue of Liberty! Viora Hatcu. BOOK REPORT Title and Author: “Farmer Takes a Wife” by John Gould. Facts about Author: Besides Farmer Takes a Wife, John Gould has written “Pre-natal Care for Fathers,” and New England Town Meet- ing. He also contributes regularly to the New York Times, the Baltimore Evening Sun. and the Christian Science Monitor. In addition, he is the owner of a weekly news- paper, the Lisbon Enterprise, published in Lisbon Falls, Maine. Fourfcen Summary : There is no actual plot to “Farmer Takes a Wife. It is simply the story of life on a Maine farm which serves to prove that a citv-bred girl can make good as a farmer's wife. Entirely untrained, John Gould's wife came to Maine equipped only with a will to learn and a sense of humor, but is soon able to turn out delicious pies and to manage a farmhouse in general as well as the best of them. The story keeps one chuckling with its amazing tales of various ancestors, and of the neighbors, past and present. Setting : The setting is a Maine farm in recent years. Characters : John Gould—a typical Maine farmer. Mrs Gould—John’s wife, who willingly gives up a life of ease in Boston, Mass., to live on a farm. She faces the hardships cheerfully and before long is termed as naturalized. Uncle Timothy—lovable great uncle, who lives with them, and has a strange craving for pies and more pies. His dry wit and endless stories, often exaggerated, keep everyone happy. Most Interesting Incident : The most interesting incident was Uncle Timothy's story of Samoset. the Indian who. in the olden days, showed up every year without fail for great grandfather's Thanks- giving dinner. Opinion : The story is very entertaining from begin- ning to end. However, I believe it tends to give people the false idea that all Mainc residents are backwoods farmers. PAULINE STEWART. BOOK REPORT The title is a “Tree Grows in Brooklyn. The author is Betty Smith. The author was born in Brooklyn in 1906. She has some sixty published one-act plays and six full length dramas to her credit, but this is her first novel. The story takes place in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, New York. The leading characters are Francie Nolan, an eleven-year-old girl, who ever since she was born, knew how tough it could be to grow up in Williamsburg: Neely Nolan, her