Ricker Classical Institute - Aquilo Yearbook (Houlton, ME)

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Father surprised me by giving 'me my first evening gown, rather I sfhould say I surprised father by giving him the bill and telling him it was his present to me. Father told me it was sweet that I should take such pains to ,pick out such an elabo- rate gift for him to give me, then he said I was getting more like mother every day. Motlher, however, insisted I was growing more like father. There I sat beaming at the both of them until Johnny, that smart aleck brother, had to spoil it by saying I took after my shylock uncle who was al- ways cooking up some big deals. Well anyhow, my best beau, Tommy, was coming at eight to take me to my first formal dance. It was quarter to eight and I was almost ready to put on my gown. I didn't want to put it on until the last min- ute. It was made of that fairy flimsy mat- erial, one of those wispy spider web crush- able affairs, and I wanted to keep itfresh looking for Tommy. When I bought it, the saleswoman hinted I needed size 13, but I stubbornly clung to a size 11. I thought it would make me look more slender, and I could manage to get in it provided I didn't breathe too deeply. I was so excited about putting on my dress that I forgot about not breathing and happened-my seams split! the inevitable Oh, I was so angry and disappointed that I didn't know if I wanted to kick, scream, cry, or do all at once. But mother, like an angel, came to the rescue. The way she mended it was a work of art! If you didn't know about it, you'd never know the dress had been torn. Eight o'clock and Tommy with a corsage, my first corsage from a boy. I went to the living room to say good-bye to the family lwhat I really wen-t for, was to exhibit my- self and bask in their 'oh's' and 'ah's.'J Well, gosh, sis, Johnny said, you look swell. Who's your em'balmer? Naturallyl retaliated with the look of contemptuous scorn I had been practicing ever since I had seen the effect that such a look from Lana Turner had produced on Robert Taylor. The family boosted my ego though, they said I looked gorgeous. Daddy told Tommy to treat me like Cinderella and bring me home at twelve. Then thinking that was witty, daddy laughed at himself. Tommy, 28 being a polite boy, gave a reasonable fac- simile of a laugh. We drove to the dance in style. Tommy's father let him use the car that night. The dance was simply divine. I danced and danced, then I got so dizzy from whirl- ing I don't remember what happened ex- cept so many nice boys asked me to dance with them. I had such a wonderful time that I did- n't notice until I was home that my feet were killing me, because I bought such tiny shoes, just because they looked so dainty. Oh well, you're only sixteen once. Mary Ann Petrula 1 8 1 i LADIES' HEADWEAR As I was strolling down the street the other day with nothing useful to occupy my mind, I noticed a lady approaching me. I glanced casually at her and then my gaze was actually riveted on that woman's hat. It was a large round one of greenish hue with two little black birds sitting absurdly on the rim. That would have been bad enough, but there were yards of veiling all around the back of the hat. After I recovered myself, I started no- ticing other ,people's hats around me. One elderly lady was going down 'the street with a glomeration of feathers and veiling on her head. Really, it looked more like a big collection of feathers to me. They were bunched together in the back, quite neatly under the circumstances, but still it didn't look so nice to me because of the veiling. That was tied in a big bow in the back and also a large amount was placed so that it fell over her face in not very graceful folds. All around me were hats of all the colors in the rainbow. Blue, red, grey, black, brown, purple, and many other varieties. On these beautiful colors were placed flowers, feathers, birds, veiling, fruit, jew- elry and any number of silly and ornament- al do-dads. I myself believe in style, fashion and originality, but I do not believe in those silly, overburdened creations that some women wear to keep in style.

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Ing his head? Did he wave his arm at me? In a half second I was on the field and in the line of players. At last I was playing in a real game, Now I would show them what I could really do in the twenty sec- onds left to play. I heard the signals vaguely, as though they were miles away. Gently the ball loop- ed through the air and, lt was coming straighlt at me. Good! They were giving me a chance to do my stuff the first thing. I found the ball in my arms and I was running, dodging in and out around the opposing ,players. Only three men between me and the goal! They came in swiftly, determined to stop me at all costs. Nearer and nearer they came and I seemed to be running slower and slower. The crowd was cheering wildly, and everyone was standing on their seats waving their arms. Now I could see the goal coming nearer and near- er. Would I make it in the few seconds left? At the sound of the alarm clock I woke up, pounding the bed. Some day I would like to finish that dream, jus-t to see if I made that badly needed goal. Robert Maxell 8 O U O SECOND CHILD AND ONLY GIRL To be born as the second child in a fam- ily of three is a maddening and dishe-arten- ing occurence, but to be born the only girl in addition seems to me to be one of fate's cruellest tricks. Either of these two evils present many problems and few, if any ad- vantages. Sdnce it i1s.impossible to escape this dire predicament, I must resign my- self as forever being tfhe martyr of the family. Being born as a second child in an or- dinary family may be as agreeable as any other family position, but when you are wedged between the older boy and younger boy. you are trapped in every action, word, deed, and thought. Whenever Iexpress an opinion in a family argument, It is always opposed by older brother who wins the con- test through the weight of his years rather than through the wisdom of his opinion. A slight squable with younger brother is al- ways blamed on me since a younger brother has the weakness of his small size to fall back on, A second chlld can never win. In buying new clothes, in having an increased allowance, in staying up late, in eating that last piece of chocolate cake, I must con- tinually stand by in order to let younger child or older child have the first choice to which the manner of their birth seems to entitle them. Family positions have the power of inflatlng or deflating one's ego. The question in my mind is: VVhy must there be advantages in being the youngest and oldest, but nothing except misery in being an in-between? In order to polish off its evil trick, fate had to make me a girl! It is definitely not a misfortune to be a girl, but to be an only girl is a source of irritation. Not only does one lack the comradeship of sisters, but she also lacks many advantages and just rights. It is much more advantageous to have an older sister pave the way for one by her own experiences, but it is an ex- tremely hard task to win independence alone. An especially difficult proceeding is the matter of one's first date. 'Since my parents have no other daughter, they are unable to judge fairly, and the matter of boys becomes a constant struggle. There are debates over where I should go, with whom I should go, and how long I should stay. I am constantly in a muddle by their changing opinions which could have easily been prevented had I not had the misfor- tune of being born the only girl. These laments of mine add up to merely one point-lt is a disastrous state to be the second child and only girl. Ican think of no alternative for future generations except to put their trust in fate, and, perhaps, through the help of nature and the stork, they may avoid such a predicament! Anne Bither lk i Q li MY SIXTEENTH BIRTHDAY Dear Diary, This morning when I woke up, I ran to the mirror and stared hard at my face. Yes, there it was-a wrinkle in my fore- head. I stared and searched for more lines in my world weary face and all the while I thought, Yesterday I was a mere child but overnight I have aged. Could anyone see it in my face? Today I am a woman, for today I became sixteen. 27

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ON BEING THE OLDER CHIILD I think I am experienced enough to write on this subject after having been the oldest child for fourteen years and the only child before that. I do not feel I am asking too much of you to read this account of my patient submission to fate. When I was three years old my mother was blessed with a baby boy. I adored him. l' was with him continually and did any- thing and everything to please him. Times have changed. The baby boy is now four- teen, and he definitely does help make my life unbearable. If only he had been a girl! When anything happens that shouldn't, such as my staying out too late or doing things without permission, my mother and father seldom punish me by hand. It is always by tongue that they make me suffer, and inevitably included in this tongue lash- ing is a phrase which will always be useful to them, as I am the older. That phrase is. Think of the example you're setting for Bernard! I hear that in my dreams and it's enough to make anybody reform-but I haven't. If my mother ever has another child, I hope he or she doesn't live by the examples my brother sets. That would be unbearable. Yet what he has learned, he has learned from me, so they tell me. Whenever Bernard does anything wrong, oh, no Bernard doesn't do wrong things. he wouldn't even think of those things if it weren't for me. If he goes out and shouldn't it's my fault, I should have made him stay in--yes, sure. With a ten-ton truck on top of him ls the only way he would stay inlf I told him not to go out. Sometimes life is just plain misery. Time marches on, but I'll be the older child forever! Joan Green l U l l THE AGE OF GULLIBILITY They say a woman can never keep a secret! Well, l'm afraid I'm not an exception to this rule. I no longer wish to go around feeling su-perior to my neighbor because l :possess some knowledge no other mortal possesses. It is selfish of me to keep it to myself and today I am inclined to be altru- istic, so I will tell all. Since I alone know my strange secret, I will play pedagogue and enlighten the earth, my pupil. What I am about to divulge may sound a bit fan- tastic, but I assure you every word I am writing is within the strict code of Truth. Undoubtedly, you have heard of the Solar System and of its nine planets. Sclence's misconception is. that there is no life on Saturn, one of its planets, because It lacks sufficient oxygen and other basic funda- mentals for organic matters. I know for a fact that Science is wrong! I have some very intimate friends on Saturn about whom I shall tell you shortly. First permit me to describe Saturn as it appeared on my recent visit. Saturn has a flrey, gassy mlmbus en- circling it. This is the way their god, Zoark, protects the Saturnites. Zoark is a. fero- cious monster resembling our prehistoric dinosaura, only Zoark, of course, is much larger. He exhales the fire in such a man- ner as to make a fort around Saturn thus preventing any unwanted visitors from approaching. Just inside around this mim- bus, the land is very barren and dry from the heat. The nucleus of Saturn, oh, that is a paradise! It is filled with various forms of growth. I might call It plant growth, but I hesitate to do so, because plants as we understand them differ tre- mendously from these growths. Large tree- like affairs are sprinkled generously about. These are very beautiful because Instead of leaves, they grow bewltchlng crystalline stalactites, which radiate color like a prism when striking the glowing mlmbus in the correct pose. Delicate waxy bush-like growths and majestic palaces add to the resplendency of the land. You can imagine my surprise at the first sight of the inhabitants of these edlfices! Although their general physiognomry re- sembled ours in many respects, still, I say, lt is the wierdest assembly of humanity I have ever witnessed! Their epideomis coloring is green! I have often heard people say that when one is sick or suffocating one turns green or blue, so I assumed the people here are green from lack of oxygen. Later I learned that the creatures here do not need exygen, as they beathe a special abundant compound called Petochloso- phyllism! The strangest part about these people is they have no vocal cords and hence, do not speak. They communicate