Scarborough High School - Four Corners Yearbook (Scarborough, ME)

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SCARBOROUGH IN DAYS OF OLD The rurally-settled town of Scarborough holds forth its charms to the traveller who loves that country life where a barren piece of lamb an old weather-beaten house, a rustic, half-tumbled down fence, or a moss- grown gravestone are a history, colorful with stories of Indian warfare in days gone past. He sees it as a story book where joys and sorrows, toil, brave deeds, and love—all are intermixed and woven into that earlier life. Scarborough had its share of old-fash¬ ioned houses, with private cemeteries on nearly every farm; now. either destroyed or grown over with weeds, and the stones scarcely readable; the antiquated fences falling to ruin. New things are being built in their places, which some day may also be called antique. A typical early farmhouse was a hum¬ ble dwelling, with a moss-covered roof and overhanging eaves. It was set back several rods from the road (which was scarcely wide enough to be called such ) in a field where little farm plots were carefully tended and the winter supply of hay raised. A cow or two could usually be seen peace¬ fully cropping the grass around the barn, an even more shabby building than the house; and occasionally their deep bass voices would awaken the sleeping country¬ side. The inside of the house was kept scrupu¬ lously clean by the farmer ' s busy wife, who seemed never to rest a minute but kept flying from one task to another all the day long. The kitchen and dining-room were combined into one large room; a huge brick fireplace occupied almost one entire end of the room: there was a great iron pot hung over the bright blazing fire, and around the walls there was a row of dishes, some china, but most of them metal; a pair of brass candlesticks shone as if newly polished. Before the fire sprawled a large yellow cat, the pride of the house¬ hold, yawning in perfect contentment in the light of the blazing logs. A few feet directly behind the house stood that rustic little cemetery, so much a feature of old New England; it contained only two stones, showing that the family were comparatively new settlers in the town. Around the entire estate was a rudely-constructed fence of wood, with oc¬ casional breaks of rock piled one upon the other. There was only one church in the town, centrally located. Within, there were two rows of high-backed pews facing the pul¬ pit which was occupied each week by a small, bustling pastor; his assistant, the

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Dorothy Irene JIcKenxey “Dot ' ' 4-H Club Work (2, 3); Glee Club (1); Homo Economics Summer Project (2, 3). Man¬ ager of School Store (4). “All seemly ways of living. Proportion, comeliness. Authority and order Her loyal heart possess. STUDENT COUNCIL Sitting: Lothrop 32, Secretary; Smith ’33, Treasurer; Lyons, President; Leary ’32, Mottram ’33. Standing: Milliken ’33. Turner 33, MacMillan ’34, Moulton ’34.

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14 THE FOUR CORNERS deacon, was as near like him as anyone could he. Early in the morning the sweet, clear tones of the hells could he heard for miles around, calling the congregation to meeting; down lanes and byways to the road, and hence on to the church, they flocked in Sunday attire. On the five school days another hell could he heard, solemnly calling little loiterers to their lessons in the little white schoolhouse on the hill, on the top of which the old iron hell hung in a lazy fashion. In the center front of the one room within, stood a truly quaint stove and heside it a pile of wood cut by the sturdy school¬ master himself, a man who was the exact opposite in appearance and characteristics of the well-known Tchabod Crane. As the extreme south of Scarborough is bordered by that ever-moving Atlantic Ocean, and its shores by great stretches of white sea sand, shipbuilding was in early times her chief industry. When each ship was completed after weeks, and sometimes months of hard labor, the whole neighbor¬ hood turned out to help launch it with a merry send-off. Often one could hear along a river bank, in those days, the sound of a mill wheel, or far up the stream the buzz of sawing ma¬ chines cutting the great logs into lumber. On nearly every river that had any water power, there was either a saw or grist mill. But not all the time of the early settlers of Scarborough was spent in labor; there were days devoted to pleasure, when the village people would all go on a picnic, or the ladies gather for a quilting party, while some pleasant evenings were spent at husking bees. There were also barn dances, with games and contra-dances, to unite the villagers in a spirit of friendly merrymaking. Annie Lyons, 33 . A RACE WITH TIME The day was a little muggy. No wind blew. The spectators—fifty thousand, the pressman had said — were sweltering in their seats. It was a poor day for a race, but just the sort of day that always kept him in top form. lie felt unusually fit; no nerves — indeed, there shouldn ' t he in his fourth year of varsity competition. Steady training had worn him down to long, sinewy, powerful muscle; no fat there, no extra baggage. Last year he had been conceded a fa¬ vorite; but this year to the newspapermen he was just one of the runners. A mighty good man, they admitted, but no “guts.” His coach had told him the same thing, had told him that he was through. His math prof even had given the class a lec¬ ture on “intestinal fortitude”; he had known that it was meant for him. The track classic of the year—his last chance. For weeks the men about him, as well as lie, had been working for this event. There was that fellow who had beaten him on the last lap his sophomore year; there, the fellow who had just re¬ cently set the new indoor record. .Nerves were starting, but with an effort he shook them off. No, those fellows didn’t espe¬ cially concern him; this year he had chal¬ lenged himself a different way. He was