Rangeley High School - Tattler Yearbook (Rangeley, ME)

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26 THE TATTLER much speed as he could, and caught up with them at the spring, where they had all stopped to get a drink of water. It was late in the afternoon when they started home, and they were all very tired from the day's hike around the pond. They had not gone very far before, bang , and ,Toe's tire was flat. 4' Well, I 'tn glad I went back after that tape, joe said, as he dis- mounted and began to bandage the tire. Within Eve minutes he was back on his bicycle and riding as fast as he could to catch up with the rest of the fellows. As he turned around a large bend in the road, he saw Bill sitting on a rock, with his head between his hands and his elbows resting on his knees. A' What 's the matter, Bill? asked joe as he stopped in front of him. Oh, she 's blown up, said Bill. Well. never mind. I've got a half spool of it left, joe told him as he jumped off his wheel and began applying it. It was quite dark when they came within sight of the village lights. joe was a little ahead of the others, and was riding along when he heard a voice calling A'-loc. What's the matter? he answered as he turned around and saw Bill approaching him. Say, joe. it pays to be safety first, whispered Bill, and I'm going to play the game, hereafter. C. A., '23. MY MAINE MY Maine, with its dear old hi1ls,. My Maine, with its rocks and rills, My Maine,-Oh, how my heart thrills, To you, my dear old Maine. My Maine holds heart so free and true, Beneath its skies so fair and blue, ' My Maine has sons who dare and do, For you, my grand old Maine. My Maine, with its lakes and streams, On which the sun plays and beams, Even now I see in dreams, See you, my well-loved Maine. - My Maine, that has stood the test,- A firm guide to all the rest Of the States who sought the quest. All hail! to Maine, my Maine. R. E. P., 'e1. SNOWF LAKES THE little snowflakes drop so fast From out the dim grey sky, Come llittering down so merrily Till on the ground they lie. They 're little ghosts of buttercups, Daisies, grass and clover, Coming down to visit us Until cold winter 's over. They make themselves contented To lie there on the ground ln all their pretty little shapes, Star-like, square and round. Scatter, scatter, little snowliakes, For the sun is peeping out: If you don't hide beneath the grass I-Ie'll see what you're about. L. M. S. THE SPRING BREEZE COME from afar, thou soothing breeze That whispers thro' the tops of trees And stirs the bright, green, shining leaves And makes the-white caps on the seas. Come from afar and let us breathe The wholesome freshness of thy breath. Around our locks of gold do wreathc, Thy wave of coolness, lo 'til death. Come to the gardens, fresh with flowers That blossom out in golden bowers And send a sleet of May-time showers With thine everlasting powers. Come to us thro' warmth and summer, Come to us thro' cold and storm, Thou art e'er a welcome comer, Matters not what is thy form. L. M. S. H SAND I OBSERVED a locomotive in the railroad yards one day, It was standing near the roundhouse where the locomotives stayg It was panting for the journey, it was coaled and fully manned, And it .liad a box the lireman was filling full of san . It appears that locomotives cannot always get a grip On their slender iron pavement, 'cause the wheels are apt to slip, So when they reach a slippery spot their tactics they command, And to get a grip upon the rail they sprinkle it with sand. lt's about this way with travel along life's slip- pery track, If your load is rather heavy and you 're always sliding backg lf common locomotion you completely understand You 'll provide yourself in starting with a good supply of sand. If your track is steep and hilly and you have a heavy grade, lf those who've gone before you have the rails quite slippery made,

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T I-I E T how, after a rain, he comes out and eats up the worms which bore into the turnips and potatoes, and spoil them. And the sparrows, toog how peaceful they look, eat- ing those apples in the treesf, What would you do, he continued, while you were hshing from the bank, if you could not hear the birds singing? You know that you would not enjoy the fishing half as much. Robert decided that he would not. just as they were turning round the cor- ner of the stream where the fishing hole was, they spied a duck swimming over the water, chasing the flies which were floating among the lily pads. Suddenly the duck dove beneath the water and came to the top holding a large, llopping trout in its bill. It arose from the water and flew away, alighting in the reeds which were just across the river. That is another bird friend of ours, said Roberts father. And you can see that he enjoys the hsh- ing as much as we do. That night as Robert was eating supper, between the large mouthfuls of the sweet brook trout which he and his father had caught, he told his mother that he had had a very line time lishing that day, and that he didn't see why boys wanted to throw stones at birds, anyway. C. A., 123. THE HALLOWEEN MIRROR T was a dark night, and I-Iallowe'en. Two girls came down the road, clad in sheets. One of them giggled excitedly, breaking the silence, then said, May, I wonder who 'll be there, I hope there'll be a jolly crowd, auywayf' I do, too, answered her clnun. Then they arrived at a large house, where many witches, goblins, ghosts and brownies were going in the front door. VVheu the party was in the parlor, and everyone was talking and laughing merrily, the young hostess advanced with a mirror in her hands. Oh! What 's that for? the young people asked in a chorus. The A T T .L E R hostess explained: The girls, one by one, are to go out back of the house with this mirror, and stand by the brook, hold- ing it up in front of them, and repeat the verse, ' Oh. mirror, very truly, Fell me who my loved one is.' The girls blushed and laughed, till at last May advanced and said, I 'll go first. So, taking the mirror, she walked out of the house, up the narrow path, till she stood by the brook, laughing as she said, Mirror, tell me truly who my loved one is. Then she screamed in surprise, for there, looking over her shoulder, was a cow, which had stolen up behind her, and which was now regarding her reflection in mild surprise. O. J., 123. SAFETY FIRST 'I' was Saturday, and one of the best days there had been for at least four weeks. This was just the day the boys of the Fisk Bicycle Club had been waiting for. Friday night, after school, they had cleaned and oiled their bicycles so that they would run as easily as possible. This was in the early spring and all of the boys had old tires on their wheels, and some of them were in pretty bad shape. It was eight o'clock when they started, and, before they had gone a quarter of a mile, joe called out to them to stop. What the matter? said Bill, as he dis- mounted. Don't you know that we want to get to the pond as quick as we can? U I know it, said joe, 'ibut my front tire has got some pretty deep cuts in it, and l forgot to get some tape, but you fel- lows go along and I will go back after, it and catch up with you a little farther down. Oh, what 's the use! Mine 's worse than yours, said Bill and I 'mu not going to bother with any tape. But Joe was half way back to the village before the last words were out of his mouth. After Joe had got the tape, he put on as

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THE TATT If you ever reach the summit of the upper table- land, You'll tind you'll liare to do it with a liberal use of sand. If you strike some frigid weather and discover to your cost That you 're slipping, slipping, on a heavy coat of frost, Then some prompt, decided action will be called into demand, And you 'Il slip 'way to the bottom if you haven't any sand. You can get to any station that is on life's schedule seen, If there 's tire beneath the boiler of Ambition's strong machine, And you 'll reach ll place that 's called Success, at speed that 's simply grand, If for all the slippery places you 've a good supply of sand. Grind Grabber. In the classroom I am sitting, And my thoughts are Hitting, Hitting, We were asked to write, today, A verse of wit-not too gay, I am sitting here, you see, My thoughts are not what they should be, I look at my lines in dismay,- l will do more some other day. E. B., '2 3. LER' 27 An awful battle we were to tight In English classroom lVednesday night, Ere lazy positions all had found, A sheet of paper was passed around And then we were told a verse to write, But, oh me, my wits ,had left me quite. C. A., 'z3. The teacher asked me a verse to make, But that I could not do, And I just sit and look at the lake,- Oh! Where have my wits gone to? A. E., '24. just because we are Freshmen The Seniors make a fuss, But when it comes to working, They just leave that to us. at sf at ar fi- But greatly unlike the Seniors, When we are put to the test lVe don't get help from the teachers, But just try to do our best. R. G., '24, I am trying awful hard To write a rhyme. I will surely do it, too,- Just give me time. G. Q., '24. xml f Q OH!! Fam 3 hx N I