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

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THE RED AND WHITE bounded four flights of stairs, and en- tered a steaming kitchen. He went straight to the window, threw up the battered sash, and stood gazing at the one pride and joy of his short life, a small rose bush bearing proudly one small green bud. Booker gave the smooth green leaves a loving touch, then slowly he slit the stem and placed the bud in a glass of water. Booker had watched the bud for many weeks, he had watered it carefully and kept it in the small patch of sunlight that filtered through the neighboring buildings. Now he thought it will really do some good. He thought of the proud way in which he would hand it to Miss Robins on her birth- day, and then Booker T. Clark slept, sitting by the warm fire. Miss Robins stood alone in the dark entrance hall of Sherman Street School. She gazed vacantly at the large pile of various shaped objects on the floor beside her. Out of the many elaborate gifts she had re- ceived for her birthday, only one stood out in the gathering darkness, a large and very red rose. Miss Rob- ins knew who had given her the rose although there was no name on it, and it had been there on her 'desk when she arrived at school that morning. Miss Robins smiled as she watched the disappearing back of one small boy made in God's image, only made black. Ghost Dog JEAN GRAM, '53 The blizzard was becoming fero- cious as it growled and whistled and moaned through the tall, stately spruces. As I stumbled along, I thought of the ironic trick fate had played on me. After betting my life's saving that I could prove superstitious the belief of the Indians of their legend- ary grea.t ghost dog, here I was, lost in the vast reaches of the Arctic, with only matches, no wood, no food, no dogs-and in a blizzard. As it grew dark, I thought of my home in Manitoba, where there was Warm food and my bed waiting for meg then again I thought of the icy night with possible and probable death ahead of me. I stumbled and fell as a harder blast of wind struck me: suddenly I thought, my feet were frozen. I have no feeling, I can't move them at all. But I didn't care any more. I was too tired, too cold. All I wanted to do was to lie down and the ground was coming up to meet me. Mmm- everything was so peaceful, even warm, as I seemed to drop into a deep, soft, black abyss. The sun was shining, and the snow glistened with millions of tiny dia- monds. I seemed to be in some sort of a cave hollowed out of a snowbank. A freshly slain rabbit lay within reach, while something warm was against my back. I turned over, looked, rubbed my eyes, looked again: yes, unless I was crazy, the Warm thing was a great white wolfdog. Suddenly it dawned on me that this must be the dog the Indians call the ghost dog. My turning over evidently awak- ened the dog for he stood up, stretched, and then sat down beside me. I sat up, took out my matches and wished I had some wood so I could cook the rabbit. As the dog saw the matches, he got up and went out. Soon he returned with a dry spruce limb. Heavens knows where he found it in five to six average foot- age of snow. Having cooked and eaten the rab- bit, I stood up experimentally, and found that though I was stii, I hadn't frozen my feet and could walk. Calling the dog, I set out for the Mountie station forty miles south of me.

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5 THE RED AND WHITE on the outer arm and neither one of us said a word. When we got to the movie, Sue went over to look at the picture while I bought the tickets. I handed the tickets to the man and we both went in. The usher di- rected us to two seats. Sue took of her coat and I was so scared I didn't even help her. She leaned her elbow on the outer arm and I leaned the op- posite way so I wouldn't see her. Oh, I gave her a bag of popcorn. I handed it to her quickly so our fingers wouldn't touch. I didn't enjoy the show much be- cause I was so nervous and to top everything off when we came out of the show there sat her mother wait- ing to take us home. Boy, was I ever humiliated! Having to have her mother take us home! ! ! Sue got in front with her mother and held the door as if she expected me to get in beside her. I quickly opened the back door and climbed in and sat there in a nervous sweat. When we got to Sue's house, Sue's mother had left the key inside the house. She began to think of ter- rible things. She said that she and Sue could spend the night at her uncle's on the next street. All this time I had been standing there thinking of all the ways in which I might get into the house. Finally I got up my courage and said, Couldn't I climb into the house some way? She said all the win- dows were locked. , .Then Sue said that the top attic window was never locked. You know how it bangs all the time, Mother. Yes, her mother said, but Erick couldn't possibly climb up there. Then I said, Yes, I can, I can climb up that big tree. I ran and jumped quickly and caught hold of a low branch. As quickly as I could, I climbed to the branch where I could swing out and get onto the window sill. Then I climbed in through the window and stumbled my way down two flights of stairs in the dark, down into the liv- ing room where I unlocked the door and let Sue and her mother in. Her mother was very pleased with my deed and thanked me very much. She also offered to take me home but I thought I was big enough to walk home after all I had been through to- night. I thanked Sue and she thanked me. Then I said, goodnight and started home feeling real big. I wasn't ner- vous any more and I was very proud. One Red Rose BETTY RICHARDSONQ '53 Booker T. Clark stood alone in the large cave-like doorway of Sherman Street School. He stared vacantly into the wet street and thought about Miss Robins, the fourth grade teach- er. Miss Robins was the only per- son in the whole school who cared for or even noticed one small black boy named Booker. She had just offered to take Booker home in her new green convertible, but he had declined be- cause he was ashamed to let her know that he lived in one of New York's large and squalid slums. Miss Rob- ins had seemed to understand his po- lite refusal, but as Booker watched the convertible pull away from the curb he felt a pang of regret. Suddenly he wrapped his worn coat tightly about his thin body and bolted into the stormy street. As he ran, Booker noticed many things: the pea- nut vender, the organ grinder, the group of boys that would not let him play baseball, the two Smith twins who called him snowball, and a small group of girls ranging from seven to ten which he splashed slightly. He did not stop until he reached the long gray line which was Mulberry Street. Booker entered an unpainted door,

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8 THE RED AND WHITE Coming into sight of the station, the dog stopped and refused to go farther. No amount of coaxing would induce him to follow me. So, giving the dog an appreciative pat on the head, I started for the sta- tion. Bill, the Mountie in charge, had seen me coming and met me half way. Looking back, I saw the dog still sitting on the last rise, watching me. You know, Bill, if it wasn't for that dog, I could never have gotten here. I would be lying frozen some- where up north of here, but thanks to that dog, here I am, alive and O. K. Bill looked at the hill, then at me, and again at the hill. Turning, he looked blankly at me, and scratched his head. Joe, he said, You bet- ter come inside. There is no dog there nor are there any dogs around here, except for my two brown sled dogs. Looking back as Bill closed the door, I could still see the dog, sil- houetted against the rose and gold sunset. Was he the Ghost Dog? I . Blind Date GERALDINE MOON Dear Diary: 6 230 P. M. As I sit here in the quiet warmth of my bathtub, I'm wondering what he will look like. Will he have black or brown hair? Eyes, blue or brown? Will he be fat or will he be skinny? With my luck there will be some- thing wrong with him. I dread the thought of opening the door when he comes: I know I have to go through with it, so I had better stop writing and get ready. - 'Til later. Dear.Diary: .. 4 7:15 P. M. lim now all dressed and waiting patiently on the sofa for the next fif- teen minutes to pass. I'm beginning to think I was out of my mind to say I'd be the one. After all, there are lots of teen-age girls in this town. Oh! there's the doorbell! Barb and Jimmy are with him, so I have to be calm. I don't know if I can make it to the door. I'll tell you tonight what he's like, dear diary. 'Til then- . Dear Diary: 10:30 P. M. Oh, he's every thing I've ever hoped for! He has the most adorable blue eyes, wavy black hair that is so shiny and smooth, I love the coy ex- pression on his face. I'm so glad Barb gave me first preference. I can see him looking at me with those big, blue eyes. It will be wonderful not having to sit home alone every evening. It certainly is grand to have a darling cooker spaniel for a pet! l I Goodnight, dear diary. Captain Happy Go Lucky On A Careless Cruise THOMAS GRAY A light breeze had just begun to stir the tall grass around Happy Ha- ven Yacht. There was an air of ser- enity about the fashionable club. Sea- gulls were screaming and quarreling over choice bits of debris brought in by an early tide. The first rays of the sun were glancing oi ten thou- sand small wavelets creating to the imaginative a veritable sea of gold. All this indicated a bountiful day for yachting. Here and there in some enthusiastic members' garden one could find cabbage leaves and lettuce heads that had been nibbled. Tiny silver dewdrops detached themselves from vegetables as our 'little friend, the swamp rabbit, foraged for his morning feed. The rabbit cocked a disdainful eye at the belligerent gulls and scornfully continued his feeding