Ricker Classical Institute - Aquilo Yearbook (Houlton, ME)

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The Aquilo I mustn't fail now , he thought as he toed the rubber to deliver the ball. He threw a slow easy knuckler, but the day was hot, he was nervous, and the ball spun a little more, came a little closer to the middle than he had in- tended. It went out into right field for a triple, giving the Hawks a two to nothing lead. He put the following men down in order but the damage had been done. The Hawk pitcher was having a holiday. He was holding them scoreless. No one had been able to get even a scratch hit, for this was Ace Allen, the veteran speedster of old. The score remained the same until the ninth, when the Cougar first baseman got a scratch single. Sensing a rally, the Cougar manager sent in a reliable pinch-hitter. He came through with a scorching drive through short and second to put a man on first and third. The Hawk pitcher was now thoroughly worried. Danny came up next, though he was a poor hitter, the coach had somehow let him bat. Ace Allen being very nervous, the pitch came down as big as a balloon. He pulled it into deep right for a triple. The crowd roared its enthusiasm, because now the score was tied two up. But alas, the Cougars didn't have a hitter to keep the rally going. The Hawk pitcher, seeing this, regained his com- posure, and once again became the steely, implacable hurler of the first eight innings. With two out, this was the cougars last chance to win the game. The man at bat wasn't going to hit. He knew it, the crowd knew it, and Danny, standing restlessly on third knew it. His mind raced with the speed of light, He took a generous lead from the sack. When the pitcher's arm snapped back, he dug for home, every muscle in his body responding to the urgent call. Out of the corner of his eye, the pitcher saw him, and consequently his throw was slightly wild. This was what Danny had hop- ed for. One thing which he had forgotten to tell the scout who discovered him was that he had set a high school record for track. His big figure hurtled down on the bewildered catcher who had just leaped to snag the wild pitch. He dropped his mitt to the ground, but too late. Executing a beautiful hook slide, Danny had got there a little quicker. The Ump had his hands flat. The game was over, Danny had won his own ball game. He was carried off the field by his now friendly comrades. With joyful heart, he began changing his grimy, sweat-soaked uniform. The future looked very bright indeed. Philip Bubar '50 Night To most people, night merely marks the end of a day. It is a break in the hours of the struggle to live in which you are able to furnish yourself with new and stronger weapons with which to fight the next battle of life. To me, it is a new world, A more beautiful, spiritual world than the one we know. Most people don't even notice the significance of a night when they have the opportunity. At night, everything seems to have a kind of life which we human be- ings have always dreamed of, but can never hope to have. At night, trees assume grotesque shapes of strange beings from the depths of our imagin- ation. You can hear the weird chant of their voices whispering back and forth on the breezes. The breezes are invisible phantoms rushing to and fro over the face of the earth with their ceaseless arguing. There are noisy, blustering C301

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The Aquilo Alike, , The first time I saw it I was amazed at its striking beauty. It lies nestled between two mountains that cast shadows on the outer fringes of it. The center of the lake is beautifully deep blue and on this particular day it reflected the sunlight until it seemed to writhe with fire. At the head of the lake a small stream flows softly and meticulously in and out between huge bleak boulders and blackened tree stumps which contract with the lively atmosphere of the place. At night when the moon climbs solemnly into the sky, the lake be- comes truly a thing of beauty, It becomes a silvery shimmering sea, soft- ly reflecting the light of the moon. ,Golden bubbles rise softly to the sur- face and disintegrate, silvery waves lap softly on the shore, a cool breeze murmurs quietly amongst the trees on the shore and the branches sway softly to an inperceptible rhythm. Up in the hills a dog howls forlornly at the moon, and as I gaze, the moon dips behind a cloud and disappears. Quietness and serenity reign over all. Roger McGary '49 Busher Idol The sun beat down unmercifully on the little group of players out on the diamond, nonchalantly tossing a baseball back and forth, and scooping practice grounders from the dirt, then flipping them unerringly to the tall southpaw who covered first sack. Conspicuous among them, however, was a young fellow out there on the mound, tossing pitches to the batter. His every muscle was tense. His forehead, under the wet dark curls, was creas- ed with worry and foreboding. For he was a newcomer, a busher from the minors, who was pitching his first major league game today. He sensed the unfriendliness of the other men who acted as if they did not trust him. Well, why should they? he thought grimly. Maybe in front of this crowd I'll lose my stuff-fthe stuff which had sent him skyrocketing through the minor leaguesl. He thought of his father and mother, sitting near the radio, almost as tense as he is. Sweat began to form on his wrinkled brow as the pitching arm limbered up. He was tall, about six foot two, twenty-one years, old and answered to the name of Danny Thomas. Here comes the umpire. The game will begin in a few minutes, the most important game of his career. His team, the Cougars, against their old rival, the Rawks. Well, here I am , he thought, as he stood out on the mound preparing to pitch to the first opposing batsman, pitching in a 'big league game as I've dreamed of since a boy. But enough of daydreaming, now to get to work. He used his various assortment of pitches, only this time they had more polish on them, that something which immediately es- tablished him a big league pitcher. The speed which had downed his high school opponents so effectively was given a new lease. He held them hitless for five innings, and then something happened. A sure foul rolled fair before it reached the outfield, then the second base- man missed an easy grounder bringing up the fourth batter for the Hawks. C291 ,

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' The Aquilo breezes, sharp, lamenting breezes, and coy, subtle breezes. There are also patient, knowing breezes and dignified, reserved breezes. All these and many others make up that great family. The sky is a dark blue velvet robe richly cocrusted with the many dif- ferent designs of the diamond like stars. It is the royal robe of the uni- verse. The moon, a golden topaz whose jewel like rays shows clouds of pearl floating around it, is the royal emblem of the robe. The meadow brook is a piece of silver thread winding across the meadow. This is where the little brownies get their silver. They mint it from the shilling waters of the brook, There is also music. An orchestra of the big bass fiddles of the bull- frogs, of the golden toned violins of the crickets, and of the many beautiful sounding instruments of the birds. All of these are harmoniously blended into nature's orchestra of the night. All of the fairy folk, deep in little wooded vales are dancing by the moonlight to the tune of the orchestra. The fairies are in formal dress and the intricate weaving of their beautiful silk evening clothes was done by their own special dressmaker, a skillful and clever spider. They dance all night long on a dance floor of waxed green leaves. The night is the world of all of these creatures. It is made up of all of these scenes, and many others. For those who have the eyes to see it, the night has the conditions from which one can draw any conclusion his soul desires. ' Clara Wiley '49 ill. 0 RGID To a lot of people rain means merely this-either we need it or we don't. At any rate, it is extremely disagreeable to them, especially if they should happen to be caught in a sudden down-pour. I think that rain is nature's way of cleansing the earth. It seems that a good rain washes away all the evils and impurities of the earth and air surrounding it. It would be a wonderful thing if a person's evils and im- purities could be washed away like that. During a rain, the sound of the raindrops and swishing of the rain is a protest against all evilness and dirtiness. After a rain, how clean and fresh everything looks! How sweet and new the air smells! The grass and the leaves of the trees glisten as though they had been polished. The flowers also glow with new-found luster. The trunks of the trees and the fence posts look as though they had just been given a good oiling. The dusty appearance of the roads and buildings has disappeared. The general stuffiness of the whole atmosphere is gone. The road is seemingly a ribbon of dark felt winding along past the houses, Everywhere there are little streams of water which are carrying away the wastes of the earth. Ducks are gleefully quacking and splashing about in puddles of water caught in hollows barely noticeable before. They are perhaps the only creatures on earth who enjoy a rain to the full extent of their knowledge. A rain not only seems to refresh the earth and air but also your own spirits . You seem to feel more wide awake and your mind is keener after a rain. Therefore, a rain is just as important to us as it is to the earth. Clara Wiley '49 -- -+ OD .