Spaulding High School - Red and White Yearbook (Rochester, NH)

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Z Class Adviser JOHN MCGRAIL Class Adfviser VIRGINIA MCNAMARA

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Leslie Towle Raymond Tremblay Agnes Tuttle William Twitchell James Upham Theresa Vachon Lawrence Wagner Barbara Waitt Vaughn Walsh Perley Warden, Jr. Prudence Waterhouse Muriel Weeks Maureen Winkley Otis Woodward Harland Worster

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22 I THE RED AND WHITE CITIZENSHIP . fContinued .from Page 43 A The school children of many coun- tries have neither the beautiful schools nor the facilities that We pos- sess. The future citizens of the world on whose shoulders must fall a great deal of responsibility are in school at the present time. It is in school that they must learn to accept theburdens as well as the privileges of citizenship. Democracy is so much better than any 'other way of life that the only successful world peace must be in a democratic world. But in order for the world to accept it, we must make democracy acceptable to the critical eye of those living without it today. We are very fortunate in being able to enjoy democracy but let us never become so lax that we lose our hold on some of its basic principles. De- mocracy is too precious to the future of the world to let it slip out of our grasp because of bad citizenship. COMPENSATION fContinued from Page 75 All that day the old man searched, calling to his friend, hoping he would find him soon, but as the sun rose higher and higher, and began to sink lower and lower, he decided to go home and wait for his hound to come, cursing himself for letting the dog wander, old and feeble as he was. Now as the sun was beginning to set, he was nearly home. The well- trod path was speckled with golden- orange light, and darkness was spreading throughout I the denser growths. He kept going along the path when suddenly by a fallen rotting log, a few feet from the trail, he saw something spotted. In a second he knew what it was. Rushing through the tangle of bushes, he found his dog, dead. He had been dead only a few minutesg his body was not completely cold, but no spark of life remained. How terrible it must have been for the old dog to have lain there helpless while he could hear his master calling to him. As he heard the old -man coming closer, maybe he tried to get up and run to meet him, but the strain was too much for his tired old heart. Any- how, .the creature was dead, he died without the confort of having his master near, and would have to be buried. Slowly the hermit picked up his oneand only friend, and walked slowly toward his home, his search wasover. That night, with the hound buried, he sat in his hut, all alone now, over- come with memories of the good time he and his dog had had in the last few years. He never realized how much a sad-eyed old hound could mean to him. The old man sat there, lthink- ing of the good timesg they seemed so real, and yet they happened quite a while ago. He took a book, leather- bound, scarred and stained, from the shelf. It was a book -of Tennyson's poetry. Then, as if by magic, when he opened it, these lines from In Memoriam sprang to meet his eyes: And is it that the haze of grief Makes former gladness seem so great, The lowness of the present state That sets the past in high relief ? They fitted him to perfection, and he was comforted. Maybe the days passed by were not so wonderful as they seemedg he believed in Tenny- son, and went to bed, content. The weather forecaster hadn't been right in three months, and his resig- nation caused little surprise. His alibiyhowever, pleased the city coun- cil. I can't stay here any longer, read the note. The climate doesn't agree with me. The day when the stock market col- lapsed in 1929, Eddie Cantor asked a hotel clerk for a room on the nine- teenth floor. The clerk inquired, Do you want it for sleeping or for jump- ing ?