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Page 28 text:
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6 CHIMES Why don ' t you and Terry go? So Terry and I went sailing. You take the battens, I told Terry, and I ' ll take the rest. Then we ran down the steep path that led to Wartuck Lake. We both got in the skiff and cast off. While we were rowing out to the Sea Gypsy ' s mooring, I saw two other sailboats over near Sandy Cove. They belonged to Peter and Jon Tagg. The boys must have seen me too, for they came about and headed my way. I made fast to the mooring and hopped aboard the Sea Gypsy. After hoist- ing the sails and casting off, we headed for Sandy Cove. Soon Peter and Jon came alongside and suggested a race, which Terry and I gladly ac- cepted. The race was charted from Bates ' Landing to Ted Moore ' s float on the other side of the lake. About half way to Moore ' s float we started shipping water over the coaming, and Terry be- came frightened. Peter came in first, Terry and I second, and Jon, last. We were just about ready to come about when Jon scooted past on the starboard side. In order to avoid a collision we had to jibe, and jibe we did. We turned over too. I later found out it was Terry ' s fault we cap- sized, for he had stepped on the jib sheet just as we were ready to jibe. As we were walking up the path to the house, I looked at the English setter and said, Terry, you ' re a good-for-nothing sailor! BABY-SITTING Barbara Tindall, ' 46 The best time to take care of children is when they are asleep. Of course, the pay is less then, (twenty-five cents an hour and fifty cents each hour after midnight) but the trouble is likely to be less also. If you are lucky, you might take care of a baby three or four nights, sight unseen. The first night I ever took on the job, I knew nothing whatsoever about how to handle a baby. However the evening was going swell because they had not only a radio, millions of records and books, but also delicious cookies in the kitchen. I was listening to a neat arrangement of Star- dust when a shriek came from the general di- rection of the bedroom. In fact, it was from the bedroom. Baby was caUing me. Quick as a flash I ran to his room. He was crying his head off and I didn ' t know why. I asked him a few pertinent questions but there was no reply. I called Mother. She asked a constructive ques- tion and was right. I found the diapers drying on the line in the basement. I must have strug- gled fifteen minutes trying to put one on him. By now Junior had stopped crying, but he also was thoroughly awake. We played all the games I knew, with the exception of a few that are a little too old for him, and I tried talking to him, but found that useless since my vocabulary was more complete than his. We bounced around a lot while I tried to tire him, but I found myself yawning instead of him. Finally I tucked him in bed and adjourned to the living room. I had only gotten three-fourths of the way through Rose Room when another bellow came from the bedroom. This time he was just being playful and would stop — just long enough to let me turn out the light, stumble across the room and open and close the door, when he would start up again. This lasted until his parents ar- rived home, and he was entirely unwound by then. You haven ' t lived until you ' ve fed a six-month old baby. Pablum always looked ghastly to me and judging from the way the baby eats it, it ' s just as ghastly as it looks. You try offering a big spoonful with the hope that he will eat faster, but the result is always that the larger the spoonful, — the messier the mess. My mini- mum is four bibs per meal. Baby-sitting may sound easy, but you quite often earn your pay (twenty-five cents an hour and fifty cents each hour after midnight.) Baby-sitting isn ' t all sitting. PRAYER BY THE SEA Josephine Miles, ' 48 Dear God, I love Thy beautiful sea; It always makes me think of Thee. I love it when it ' s calm as glass. And when it ' s angry as I pass. I love to see the gulls fly by. Their peaceful wings across the sky. My brother and I, we watched, and we Would see the sun melt in the sea. We laughed, and swam, and played on rocks, And fished, and rowed, and watched fish-hawks. But now alone I watch the foam, Because my brother is far from home. Dear God, who made the beautiful sea, Please God, bring back my brother to me.
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Page 27 text:
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CHIMES 25 It is my opinion that the benefits of the train- ing would far out balance the disadvantages that such a program would present, preparedness against unpreparedness; the welfare of the nation against the convenience of the individual who might be against the idea. It is the only way we can be safe against the aggressor nations of the world. BOOKS Pairicia Cahir, ' 47 Standing straight upon my shelf Are my books, my greatest wealth. ' Neath each gayly-colored cover Many little secrets hover. Most of them are thumbed and torn; Few are new and not yet worn. All do tell a lively story Of the things of earthly glory. Figures dance upon each page Here a youngster, there a mage. Some are young and gay and bright, Some are old, but all delight. Different figures represent Thoughts of igloos, nomads ' tents, Scholars, jesters, king and queen. Places we have never seen. Always happy to be read To the children just ' fore bed. By the aged who convalesce, Books are wonderful, I confess. MAY I HAVE THIS DANCE? Anne Heffernan, ' 46 There comes a time in every girl ' s life when Mother thinks it is time for her daughter to go to dancing school. I was no exception. I was a big girl for twelve, when the day finally came, and with disaster. My hair had been in curlers all day, and there- fore came out a mass of fuzz. I was heartbroken, but also hoped Mother might repent and not make me go. But no. Quick, the hair tonic! It worked wonders. The fuzz went away im- mediately; so did the curl. My slip had been in the oven drying and sud- denly seemed to be giving off a smoky odor. Sure enough, but Dad rescued it before it be- came more than slightly tanned. Finally I was all dressed and the family stood around admiringly. I don ' t see how they could have thought me a pretty child. Parental love must be blind. When we arrived, I saw some friends of mine, in their taffeta and bows, their hands held by their proud mamas. As we timidly entered the large auditorium, we were given the once-over , which aroused in me whatever it is in women that make us want to look their best before a roomful of boys. I went down stairs to the girls ' lavatory and finding everyone gathered around the one, dirty, spotted mirror, I joined them, trying to fix my now-straight hair. Upon examining myself more carefully, I found I looked a little pale, so after much mental debate, I borrowed a lipstick from one of the older girls, and smooched it uncer- tainly on my lips. At that moment I felt that I had become a woman. When I went upstairs, I found the teacher lin- ing the girls up on one side of the floor and the boys on the other. I joined the giggling crowd of girls, who were pushing and shoving each other around, trying to get where they would find the man of their fancy for the grand march. The dance started off with a one, two, three, dip, a stumble, and a quick apology. After that we had a short intermission, and then the social hour began. The boys got up and looked us over, trying to find partners who pleased them. Three boys came up and asked the girls on my left, and the same thing happened on my right. It was here I learned my lesson. Never sit in a place which is not convenient for boys. The girls beside me were laughing and talking, and seemed to be enjoying themselves. I don ' t see how they could have been at a time like this, but I soon found myself joining them. The music played on, and everyone was having a wonderful time. Fear of being a wallflower mounted and mounted. Suddenly a nice-looking boy walked across the floor. Was I going to be spared? I put on my best I ' m having a won- derful time smile. He smiled back and asked the girl next to me to dance. I never felt more depressed in all my life. Brooding over my fate, I didn ' t notice the tall quiet boy standing in front of me, asking me to dance. I looked at him with such gratitude that he must have felt like Sir Walter Raleigh, himself. As we danced onto the floor, I looked up into the balcony, and saw Mother. She breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. Daughter was not go- ing to be a wallflower after all. JIBE HO! Jack Varney, ' 48 How about going sailing with me today, Dad? I asked. There ' s a beautiful breeze on Wartuck. I ' ve planned a Httle work in the garden, Son.
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Page 29 text:
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CHIMES 27 THE SANDPIPER Jean Holcomb, ' 47 The beach was cold and windy that late Sun- day afternoon as the four of us, Marty, Buzz, Bill and I, walked along the high breakwater. The salty air had a wonderful tang to it, bring- ing an adventurous feeling to me, a feeling of mystery and excitement. A sandpiper flew low ahead, suddenly stopped, and stood looking at me like an inquisitive child. Laughing at his comical expression, I didn ' t see what was in my path and tripped. Look out! Hey, Jacey, did you hurt your- self? Buzz asked. Ouch! I just stubbed my toe. Golly, what was that huge thing I tripped over? I asked. It ' s sure hard. Maybe that will teach you not to laugh at sandpipers from now on! Marty teased. Say, Buzz, look at this thing. It ' s an oil can, a huge one at that. What ' s this. Bill? Looks to me like some printing. All I can make out is ' U. S. ' and then it fades out. There ' s a whole line of numbers. I wonder if they mean anything! replied Buzz. Gosh, maybe it was from a ship that was sunk near here and maybe some survivors are around! replied Marty, her imagination over- working. Oh, Marty, don ' t be so morbid!! Your imag- ination is about as bad as mine! I said. Well, it would be exciting! Marty replied. Buzz, take a gander . . over here. Look, they ' re crates. Can you read what the writing says on them? Bill asked. Well, what do you know? Look here; it says ' Robots ' , ' Danger ' , and ' High Explosives ' . May- be Marty isn ' t half-wrong, said Buzz. Jacey, come here a sec. Will you look at all these crates? They ' re just like the ones that Bill found only it says on them ' Machine Gun — 45 Caliber ' . Maybe there are some more near here, Mary said. Hey, kids, have a look! A life preserver and a life jacket. Say, it ' s got a number on it — at least it looks like one. What do you know, this number is identical to that one on the crate over there! Say, it sure looks as if a tanker had gone down, somewhere, Bill exclaimed. As we walked along, we found doors, windows, another part of a life preserver, crates that had contained ammunition, oil cans covered with hard-caked dirt and grease, and piles of drift wood and shattered glass scattered about the beach. What Bill had said to Buzz kept repeat- ing itself over and over in my mind: It sure looks as if a tanker — it sure looks as if a tanker — it sure looks as if a tanker — over and over in my mind — it sure looks as if a tanker — over and over again. Hey, bud, over this way; here ' s the boat. Here we are!!! Hurry up, fella, they ' re putting their machine guns on us. Duck, you guys. Duck! At the sailor ' s warning, Dick threw himself over the side of the small craft and lay exhausted in the bottom of the overcrowded boat. Machine gun bullets sprayed over the boat and covered the water all around them. Suddenly the deafening noise stopped and one of the oc- cupants of the small life boat slowly rose, looked for the sub that had been peppering them with bullets and once again slumped back in the boat. Hey, you guys, she ' s gone! You can all start breathing again. She ' s gone, fellows, not only the sub but our tanker, too. Wow! what an ex- plosion. I thought we ' d hit bottom!! A long, lanky seaman rolled over on his back and tried to wipe the grease off his hands, but only succeeded in spreading it to his face and whole body. Boy, we sure did get hit with sumpin ' , be- lieve you me! Where are all the fella ' s anyway? Are they O.K.? See anybody else in the water? Wonder where Adams is? Right, here. Shorty, right here! That is if you ' ll get off ' n me. You don ' t appear to me to be no feather weight, you know! Maybe if you stopped asking so many questions and looked around a little you wouldn ' t be so inquisitive!! Adams! You dirty face, you! Are you all right? The rest of the men look burned. Let ' s get to work, right now! Oke, chief, they do look pretty badly burned. The whole tanker ' s gone. I wonder where all the guys are? Oh man, what a noise, what a noise!! The two men worked efficiently and swiftly as they tried to give what help they could to the other three men in the boat. Very little was said between them because all began to feel the effects of their experience. As dusk came on, the occupants all fell into a tired heavy sleep, a sleep of worry and pain. Night settled upon them. For Pete ' s sake, Jacey, stop day dreaming and let ' s go. You know what will happen if we ' re late again, Bill said. I came back to reality very suddenly as Bill (Con filmed on Page 35)
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