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

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12 THE RED AND WHITE school building. His destination was the principal's oiiice and an inevit- able lecture on the evils of cheating. This thought caused beads of sweat to appear on his brow. As he drew nearer to the building, his consterna- tion increased and his small hands be- came cold. More jumbled thoughts writhed in Billy's agitated mind. The kids would tease him about being caught, that was sure. But if he had gotten away with it, he would have re- ceived an A and the others wouldn't have, and that wasn't fair. No, it wasn't. But only sissies think that way, reflected the small oy. He entered the back door of the building and gave the knob an angry twist. ' So what if it wasn't fair? pon- dered Billy. But Billy had always been -disgusted with the boys and girls who cheated. It seemed 'rotten for them to get A's that way. Yet he continued to rationalize. After all, he would have failed the test if he hadn't copied from Mary's paper. But, maybe, he would have deserved to fail. Yes, maybe it was right that he had been reported. He entered the principal's oHice. Completely unexpected was the broad smile on the man's face. Good news, Billy! exclaimed the principal. Your teacher and I have decided that you couldn't have cheated. Your record has always been one of honor and your teachers trust you. It was fantastic to think that you would cheat on an arithmetic test. Thank you, sir, mumbled Billy as he went out and closed the door be- hind him. I'll get an 'A' on the test,' he thought. I'll get an 'A' and my folks will be proud! But suddenly there was a lump in his throat and he knew he was go- ing to cry. Take It or I' Leave It JOHN FRYE, '54 V On the first of October the hunt- ing season begins. There is always a great amount of hustling about the house getting this and that-every- thing that is related to hunting-and putting it on the kitchen table. These various articles are crammed into a small satchel and put into the front seat of the car. This done, Dad grabs his rusty old shotgun and scrambles into the car. There is a muffled roar as the car shoots out of the driveway, skids around the cor- ner, and disappears from sight. As the car is speeding along the highway, a fat young rabbit leaps across the road in front of the car, and disappears into the brush. Dad brings the car to a loud and abrupt stop, climbs out, and plunges into the thicket, giving chase to the rabbit. Two or three minutes elapse before a noise that somewhat resembles a can- non exploding is heard. Later Dad steps into view, carrying a few pieces of what might have been a rabbit. In the late evening when we are return- ing home, Dad explains that he had taken some buckshot instead of bird- shot to shoot the rabbit and it had blown the poor little rabbit to mere fragments! A Costume Ball CARLENE RICHARDSON, '54 The sun had just gone down. Sha- dows were everywhere. Across the shadows murmured the sound of the wind, soft and slow. The air was crisp with a note of gaiety in it. Above, in the trees, was a rustle of excitement. The dancers, dressed in red, yellow, orange, and pale green, waltzed with their escorts, clothed in dark green and brown, to a melody known only to themselves. Around and around they whirled until the moon was high in the sky.

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THE RED AND WHITE 11 War, destruction, fear and greed have often wounded me. These ene- mies have detached me from the hearts of men along with faith and hope. Because of this fact, I fear that the world will lose me forever. Will I live only as a word in a dic- tionary, never even used or thought about? I would not be living then, for if my meaning dies, my soul dies also. You see a word without mean- ing is like a door Which opens into no- where. It is worthless. Few people agree exactly on my meaning. I mean more than just words. I reach into the hearts and feelings of men and leave a part of me there. No one can really say what I leave, for I become a part of every person I touch. According to a dictionary, I am Hharmonyg law and order, freedom from war. How many other things am I! I cannot express them all. I am necessary for the continuation of life. Without me, all nations will eventually diep I shall continue to hope that some day the people of the world will not find me so hard to grasp, and that I will take my proper place in every man's heart. Such is the ambition of my friends, Faith and Hope, as well as my own. The world will be wonderful when our ambition is ful- filled, and the three of us have a sta- tion together in the hearts of men. Yes, together, because they are a part of me. They are necessary if Peace is to reign. And I am Peace. A Funny Experience MARCIA CAMPBELL, '54 Relatives of mine often recall a family reunion of a few years ago. It was a -beautiful day, and after the usual gathering, all decided to motor toward the White Mountains. At a rambling farmhouse, on a porch over- looking beautiful Lake Winnipesau- kee, the group ordered dinner. My sister who was five years old promised to eat everything brought to her. She thought she would iin- ish her glass of water before her meal. The waitress filled the glass up again, and she drank it obediently. This was repeated until the seventh time. Then in a low whisper Cwhich everyone could hearj, she ex- claimed, Mama, tell her not to fill it up again. I can't drink any more! The Sissy PRISCILLA DAGGETT, '53 Ten-year old Billy sat alone on the large, moss-covered rock, gazing into space. He seemed to lack some of the spirit which usually accompanies a fifth-grade boy at recess. Less than one hundred feet from him his con- temporaries were playing hopscotch. Playfully they shouted accusations at one another and joined into the com- petitive spirit of the game. Sudden- ly, one boy turned to Billy and called, Hey, Bill, come on and play I Naw, answered Billy with a touch of scorn in his voice, that's sissy stuff. The other boy, making a derogatory remark and a grotesque face, turned back to the game. Aw, Billy muttered to himself, I hate ev'rything. He pondered the events of the previous morning. It wasn't his fault that he had been caught cheating on an arithmetic test. It was that guy nex-t to him, Donny Chadwick. Yet, he re- flected, that idea didn't seem right. Donny told on me and it's right to tell on kids that cheat, Billy mumbled aloud. But I never cheated before--the other kids do it all the time, but I only did it once. Appar- ently this idea failed to reassure the small boy, because his frown deep- ened. The end of recess bell sounded its raucous, summons. Billy rose slowly and trudged wearily toward the

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THE RED AND WHITE 13 The leaves iiuttered to the ground and the music grew softer, finally dy- ing when the first hint of light glanced across the sky. The sun, peep- ing over the horizon, saw the empty limbs of the trees and, not knowing of the fun and frolic of the night be- fore, proceeded to awaken the world. The Old Oak Desk ALICE CHAPMAN, '54 Among the rolling hills of that sec- tion of the country called New Eng- land lived a little old bachelor in his small white bungalow which was sit- uated by a dirt road on the outskirts of a little village. From the road a narrow little stone path led up to his front porch where patches of colum- bines -tangled in and out of the fancy wooden railing which seemed to dis- tinguish this house from all others around. Among the foliage surround- ing the house were four tall sugar maple trees which were tapped for maple syrup each spring and served as good shade in the summer. Then there was mother's old flower gar- den with flowers of all varieties and in the rear of the house were a few scrubby old fruit trees from which, in the fall, mother would gather crab apples, plums, and wild cherries with which to make jams and jellies for the long winters ahead. All around the house a thick green carpet of grass spread its natural beauty from the road to the adjoining forest in the background. ' Now for a glimpse of the interior of the home. In the kitchen was a set of rough wooden table and chairs, a black iron sink, an old black wood stove that cooked the food and also provided heat for the whole house, and a cupboard with a few small shelves and drawers. The walls were a dull gray which seemed to cast a gloom over the whole room. In the living room was a meager couch at one end, one discolored overstuffed chair, and a small oval walnut table. But the pride and joy of the family had always been the big oak desk which had been passed down through the family since his great great grandfather and there was even a tradition about it. Besides this, there were two bedrooms in the rear which were furnished with odds and ends of bedroom furniture. Although this house had simple furnishings it was always neat and tidy. The man himself was of English descent and was in his late fifties. He was quite short and stocky, with a fair complexion, and his hair, which was once a coarse golden brown, had faded through the years of toil into a grayish white. John Blackfleld by which he was called from birth, was a rather quiet, religious man who seemed to live in a world of his own and was as honest as the days are long. Still on the other hand he was very spunky and spry, not in the least bit lazy, for the lines on his face and hands gave out the secret of his la- bors and trials in the past. It was evening and the shadows of darkness were slowly creeping on and the little windows of heaven were be- ginning to light up. Old John was sitting out on the porch, as he was often seen doing at this time of night, with his old faithful collie dog, Tad. Tad was a strong, brown furred, kind, collie dog that had filled a great place in Old John's heart. He had come to John as a little pup about a year ago. No one claimed him so he stayed on. Tonight John was not happy sing- ing as he usually did. Instead his head was bent in sorrow and deep thought, for this past week his mo- ther had died and now all he had left was Tad, his faithful old pal who seemed even closer to him now. Tad was the only one left to whom he could tell his troubles. It was not the death he was thinking of now. It