Pennell Institute - Whirlpool Yearbook (Gray, ME)

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Suddenly something huge and dark loomed up through the dimness. Dave and Arnold rose to their feet. The horses seemed to realize that they had done their part so they stopped. Through the falling snow showed the famaliar shape of a house. Both boys lei out a cheer as they recognized the farm of their friend, Mr. Andrews. They leaped off the sled when Mrs. Andrews opened the door. “Hello. Who is it?” she called out. Dave and Arnold ran up to the door and grected her. Mrs. Andrews told them to stable their horses and then come into the house and have some hot chocolate. After their chores were done they returned to the house to tell the Andrews their story. Mrs. Andrews smiled as she listened. “You know, boys.” she said, “those two horses were raised on this farm. No matter where they are, they always head back here.” The next morning the snow had stopped so the boys again started out on their way: this time more sure of reaching their desti- nation. FAE WILSON. NATURE'S ARTIST Jack Frost, dressed in his red hat, green Jacket, yellow pants, and long brown shoes with turned up toes is busy at work again. Gayly racing over hills and valleys, with his brush and pallet, he brings a new dress for every tree. He works swiftly and silently. from the highest to the lowest branch, big trees and small. A dab of red. a touch of yellow, a splash of orange; and a wonderful transformation takes place. Working while everyone else is asleep, he throws a blanket of milky-white frost over the fields, and paints frost pictures on your windows, beautiful designs no one could copy. No artist’s work can compare with this magic spell he paints over the country side. When the snow begins to fall, he curls up in a hollow tree trunk on a bed of his newly decorated leaves and falls asleep ‘til the next fall. VioraA НАТСИ. PENNELL INSTITUTE “BABE” GETS REVENGE Babe Johnson had been out of prison two days. He had, in those two days, formu- lated a plan for revenge. The object of his vengeance was District Attorney Whitmore. Whitmore was the man who had put the “Dabe” behind bars. Now, he would pay. “Babe” had served six years: too long a time to forget about. Johnson had collected materials for the carrying out of his plan. All was in readiness. It was on Friday, the thirteenth of Septem- ber, that “Babe” went through with his idea. Eleven o'clock at night, Babe put his equipment in a black satchel and went to Whitmore's house. In the satchel he had dynamite, caps, and wire. In his pocket were a flashlight, jackknife and a .38 caliber auto- matic for emergency. At Whitmore's home, “Babe” jimmied a cellar window open and climbed in. Snap- ping on his flashlight, he looked the cellar over. Yes, this was perfect. Over in the corner was that which he looked for — the electric meter. Babe worked swiftly. He wired the meter, put the caps on the dynamite, and connected it to the wired meter. That was perfect. When Whitmore woke up and turned on a light, the meter dial would turn. When that happened the dynamite would ex- plode. “Babe” put away his tools and started for the window. Patrolman O'Reilly was walking his beat half a block from the D. A.'s house. At eleven fifteen P. M., the whole world seemed to burst asunder. A livid sheet of flames shot fifty feet into the air. The noise was deafen- ing: the ground trembled and shook. Whit- more's house was blown to bits: Whitmore and “Варе” Johnson were both killed. “Babe's” handiwork had been ingenious. Nothing had gone wrong except that “Babe” didn't Know that the D. A. had an electric refrigerator. It started as “Babe” was going out the window. Austin Kvcu. Thirteen

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THE C ERRI ЛОУ e EE E Literary... LOST IN A STORM “Hey, Dave, Arnold yelled, haven't you got those deer skins loaded on yet? You know we've got to get home before dark. Dave glanced up from the bobsled, to which were hitched two restless bay Per- cherons. “Gee whiz, Arnold! I’ve loaded every- thing on so far. If you want those darn skins youll load them yourself. And also, for your information, we're leaving as soon as I get ready and not before.” Finally, after much bickering and hurry- ing. the two boys were ready. Dave picked up the reins and the red bob slid out of the yard of the old lumber camp. Dave and Arnold were two Canadian boys, seventeen and eighteen. They had hunted ever since they could held a gun, but this had been their first real hunting trip. They had been at the lumber camp at Merrimachi for two weeks and the sled now held the bodies oÍ two deer, as evidence of their luck. As the horses trotted along through the snow Arnold gave a worried glance at the sky. “You know, Dave, I don't like the looks of the weather. I'm afraid well run into a storm before we reach home,” he said. Dave had hardly had time to agree before a small white flake landed on his shoulder. He let the horses go into a guicker pace. They still had forty-five miles to go before night came. Merrimachi was only a small settlement in the wilderness. An hour later. the snow was coming down steadily. The wind blew harder and Dave and Arnold bent their heads to the wind and pulled the deerskins around them. When T и elve they reached the crossroads. Dave slowed down the horses. “Say, Arnold,” he shouted, raising his voice above the howling wind, “which road do we take? The left one, don't we? I think so, Arnold replied. Dave turned the horses down the leít road, but the horses immediately stopped. Get up there! he shouted. “This is a hell of a time to get balky.” Не brought the reins down on their backs with a resounding whack which made both horses spring forward. but plainly against their will. About half an hour later Dave began to doubt his own judgement. The road gradu- ally dwindled down into nothing but air over- grown trail. He looked despairingly at Arnold and stopped the horses. Well. what now? he asked. “This is plainly not the right road. Arnold suggested turning back and start- ing out again at the crossroads — but it was snowing so hard that it was impossible to see any tracks. Finally, they decided to leave it up to the horses. They turned them around, then let the reins lie loose. The horses immediately turned to the right and started across what evidently was a field. Knowing that they were completely off the road now, Dave reached for the reins, but was stopped by Arnold who told him that the horses could certainly not get them lost any worse than they already were. Dave finally resigned and settled down to keeping warm. The two horses plowed on through the snow, evidently very sure of where they were going. The two boys wished that they, too. were às sure.

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THE “KAYAKING” Kayak—an Eskimo canoe ; usually of seal- skins and completely decked, the covering heing laced about the paddler. I shall never forgive Mr. Webster for that definition. But, then again, maybe he never tried to paddle one of those banana- shaped eggshells he refers to when he talks of kayaks. I accomplished the task. (period) It took me two weeks, several duckings, and a little million blisters. Oh, it's not that I hold anything against kayaks. In fact, Oswald (that's the kayak’s name), was a very pretty, well behaved kayak, if he happened to take a liking to you. Oswald and I got along fine the first day or two. The two of us would glide over the water, Oswald's beautiful baby blue skin shining, and his maple stained paddles slip- ping in and out of the water while I received a beautiful sun tan. But the third day. Oswald was cross. He didn't feel like riding so — Oswald capsized and I found myself looking at the lake bottom instead of the sky. Oswald went drifting along and lodged him- self on a rock, just out of spite. while I swam for shore. The fourth day. I decided not to go out as it was raining “cats and dogs. The fifth day, I went kayaking again, this time going way across the lake and back with no accidents. But oh! When once more on dry land — I have never before seen such beautiful blis- ters as I had on my hands. Well, I finally learned how to handle a kavak but it took a lot of courage. Sneaking of courage — the most courageous thing Oswald and I did this summer was to go over in front of the boys' camp and throw the paddles away. We had three counselors all about nineteen years of age help us home. Oswald enjoyed that so much! BARBARA NICHOLS. LET'S FACE IT In a college in the midwestern section of our country not long ago, as two American Fourteen DO O M == boys were walking across the campus, they met a Chinese boy, who was their classmate. Stopping him, one of the boys asked the Chinese student a guestion which had been puzzling him for some time. “Is it true that people in China eat birds’ nests?” The Chinese boy smiled and went on to explain how many things tend to make misunder- standings among countries and races. He concluded by saying, “My parents would be surprised if I were to write and tell them that Americans eat ‘hot dogs.” It is the little things such as this that have caused a great many of the problems of race prejudice. Economic differences also have a great deal to do with prejudices. Before the Civil War, in the South, about thirty per cent of the population had imported slaves work- ing for them. That was all right for the people who had plenty of money : but for the other seventy per cent, it didn’t work out quite so well: for the negroes were employed in the places where the whites might have worked, Hence, part of the prejudice against negroes. In many orders and clubs in this country negroes and Jews are not allowed: and yet we call this a free country in which everyone has a chance for advancement. Ts this what we mean when we say, “One nation, indi- visible, with liberty and justice. for all?” What do those words mean to us? Until everyone of us comes to realize that God created everyone equal. and acts accord- ingly, the problems of peace, and freedom, and justice will never be completely and sat- isfactorily solved. ERMINIE CRANDALL. “A HERO” Bright lights flashed in front of me. Men. excited and tense, hurried back and forth, shouting to be heard above the wind and rain. Regardless of the storm, the shouting, the mutterings and growling of a large crowd of people, it seemed deathly quiet all of a sud- den. Every eye was glued to the top of the MI LLL чт iue a