Upper Kennebec Valley High School - Boreas Yearbook (Bingham, ME)

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8 THE' BOREAS It can be seen from this that the children in the moon take advantage of our care- lessness. Is it any wonder that we seldom find lost pencils, pens, papers, and books? I was about to conceal my theme in my dress in order to take it back to earth, when my guide entered the room, and told me it was time to go. I remembered noth- ing of the ride to earth. But, as the Hying machine neared my home, my companion roused me, and put into my hand a card on which was the motto: A place for every thing and every thing in its place. V. H. '28 HAUNTING MEMORIES It was Spring! Birds were carol- ing their joy to the world. Every tiny throat throbbed and beat with joyous song. Pure, trilling notes of happi- ness filled the air. Spring had come! The great hillside was as warm with life. Gay, bright spots of color dashed in and out among the bud- ding trees. The birds were begin- ning their spring home building. The tall maples were developing V their green leaves. The tiny blades of grass were springing up everywhere. Hun- dreds of pretty, odorous flowers cov- ered the ground in splotches. A' sweet, clean, pure smell prevailed over all. Spring had come indeed! So thought Joy Bells as she drove her smart little roadster along the winding road at the foot of the beau- tiful hill. Spring is the most glorious time of the whole year. It's great to be young and in love with life. Isn't it, Pal ? p. She 'addressed the handsome collie at her side. - Pal seemed to understand hisiz adored mistress' mood and wagged a silkendtail. It must be fad- mitted that although Joy had a voice like the tinkling of fairy bells, her voice was not the only lovable feature which she possessed. She was lovable from the tips of her toes to the last shining golden hair of her head. The slim boyish form, clad in white, told of athletic life. Everything about Joy was dainty. One was immediately impressed by her independence and strong character. She seemed wholly capable of caring for herselfg and she was. Joy Bells was an orphan. She cher- ished dreams of childhood happinessg she dreamed of the gentle, loving mother, the kind, adoring fatherg the beautiful, happy home. These were the thoughts that filled her heart and made tears come to her blue eyes. She stopped her car and sat gazing up the hillside. It was a place like-that where they had their last picnic. They had enjoyed that day, little realizing that within two days, fifteen, years ago, all of the family except Joy would be killed in a train accident. up L Joy was accustomed ito hiding her pain but-her voice broke: Such is life, Pal. We had better move along. The white roadster sprang for- ward. It sped along the road at a reckless rate. Its driver crouched over thecwheel. Her face was' white and tense, her eyes shone like stars. Joy was running away from her grief. The roadster darted over the smooth roadg on and on it speeded. The roadside was a swiftly moving blur, until-CRASH! Leslie Webster' sprangffrogm his horse and ran forward. A streak of white had come around'the' :corner

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THE BOREAS 7 Fraser had won the game. The coach was the first to grasp his hand, and with a happy smile on his face, Raye said, I found it, Coach,- my courage. A. W., '30. A TRIBUTE TO MAINE At night the darkness and the rain, Upon the earth did fall, But, ah, it could not hide the land My mem'ry does recall. Beneath me, like a rolling plain, My Maine spread far and wide About me stretched the wonderous No darkness, it could hide. land, As if by glorious sunset lit, . The land of childhood lay, Observant to the eye of love That sees by night or day. Oh glorious land, my native home, My heart has turned to thee. I long for thy sweet scented air And pungent old pine tree. Oh bcauteous land of joyful youth, To thee I must return, To thy familiar sylvan haunts Among thy flowers and fern. Oh lovely land of babyhood, To thee my heart does cry: To thee I pay my homage due, Thy memory ne'er shall die. A. W. '30 SAILING Far, far out on Senior Sea Ten noble Seniors go sailing away To a place where some day I hope I'll be, Sailing into life where hope holds sway. In Junior Bay, what's this I see? Seven brave Juniors hard working away: Striving to conquer the Senior Sea, And sail into life where hope holds sway. Here on Sophomore Beach there stand, Striving and working to leave some day, Seventeen, who are happy and glad To sail into life where hope holds sway. . P. C. '30 THE LAND WHERE LOST THINGS GO It has always been a profound mystery to me where lost things go. I uttered these words almost uncon- sciously a few days ago. I had retired, but had not gone to sleep, for that day I had either lost or misplaced the theme which was due the next morning. I had not discovered this fact until quite late in the evening. I was quite sure the theme was in the house, but to find it was an impossibility. But where do lost things go? These were my last thoughts, as I fell asleep. In had just closed my eyes when I was suddenly awakened by a voice saying: Rise, dress, and come with me. I did as I was bid. I dressed so quickly that I had had no time to notice my com- panion's appearance until I paused in put- ting on my hat. It noticed she was a girl no older than myself, dressed warmly in furs. Wrap up well for we are going a long Way. I am going to take you to the land where lost things go, she said. I was delighted at this prospect and soon found myself comfortably seated in a flying machine, which soon started at full speed in the direction of the moon. It was a glorious starlight night, and as the machine, which my companion told me was called the Queen of the Sky, soared straight up among' the stars, the sight was one not to be missed. I had hardly dared to speak. At last, gaining courage, I asked her where we were going. To the moon, to be sure, where I have charge of the department of 'Lost School Supplies', was the answer. As soon as we had reached the moon she hurried me into a tiny sleigh. We again sped away until we came to a large build- ing, which my companion told me was made entirely of rulers which the pupils of Bingham High School had lost. The door opened and we passed in. Here my guide left me, saying that I could look about me all I wished. Noticing an open door at the end of the hall, I went into the next room. Here I recognized many familiar objects. On a long shelf there were numerous piles of different articles. Over these were the names of pupils of B. H. S. There were pencils, pens, erasers. Seeing my own name, I went to the shelf, and among the first things I found was my theme. The people up in the Moon have not the ability to make and manufacture their own supplies. So once a week the year around the Queen of the Sky is sent to earth to bring back lost articles. l l

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THE BOREAS 9 and almost run him down. What the devil was he driving like that for, anyway! The roadster lay in a broken heap. Smoke curled up from the ruins. Leslie saw a small hand beneath the edge of the overturned car. So it was a girl. Well, he must get her out. He managed to get the unconscious girl from the ruins. Leslie raised the girl in his arms, and carried her toward a house which was back from the road in a beautiful grove. Leslie entered and called, Mother. A small, white-haired woman met him, her face showed astonishment, but her quick mind told her what to do. Bring her up to the blue room, son. Thomas, call Doctor Carl. Joy Bells regained consciousness. It seemed that her head was split- ting. She opened her eyes, and tried to sit up. A moan escaped her lips, and a gentle hand pushed her back among her pillows. A calm voice said, You must be still, my dear. Joy looked into the sweet face, and knew she was safe in her surround- ings. Two weeks at the Webster house- hold were sufficient for the two young people to realize that each was des- tined to meet the other. In June wed- ding bells hang for them. V. H., '28. '2'?s1G'Silf'G-Qfi A 9 A fsmea o nl 'xg' 5, -xff ' x 541i , ,, 6 - I x f cl .Ax Q REE 't