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

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BOREAS 15 farther. Sometimes he was sure the fish had got away, then the line would move again. After a long time he got mad at that fish and pulled hard. The line came swiftly in and he got a glimpse of a huge fish. He stopped pulling. He was so surprised. He wished his fath- ed would help him! - 1. After a while he thought, I'll pull hard and pull him out onto the rocks g but when he tried the fish flapped once and went off with more line. He was sweating hard. Gee, it was a big fish! He set the rod down, stepping carefully on the line so that the fish couldn't go any farther. Then he pulled in the line, hand over hand, slowly so as not to scare the fish. His father had given him a little net. How would he get the fish in? He pulled it up out of the water and it hung dan- gerously with its tail flapping and he put the net under it and dropped it in. To his surprise it went in easily. His father was coming toward him. He looked surprised and pleased. Hold him up so we can measure him, he said. He had the fish pinned down to the rocks with both hands. So his father put his rule beside it. Sorry, Son, he's just twelve inches --got to put him back. Law says four- teen inches on salmon. That's part of the game, you know. His father wet his hands and took hold of the fish. He slipped the fly out of its mouth. Here, he said, You put him back and let him grow a couple inches while we're eating our lunch. He carried it with both hands to the river edge and dropped him in. The fish stayed on top for a second, and then disappeared. He climbed back up the ledge to the top and sat down beside his father quietly. His father didn't say anything, just passed him a sandwich. He sat there eating and already he felt a lit- tle better. Wait till I tell the gang, he thought. Just wait till I tell them about the fish I caught! He took a big bite and stopped chewing. Some- thing hard was in the sandwich. He felt cautiously-it was the other tooth! Nellie Macdougall '45 if Sl' lk fl' MID-WINTER SCENES The sun with all its flaming glory, peeps over Fletcher Mountain to cast a weathered eye on the old familiar, though much battered, landscape and seems to contemplate what should be done about it. At this early hour the snow casts off a crystalline brilliance which only the sun could possibly look upon with scorn. Even the trees nearby seem to acknowledge the fact that it is morn- ing for they are stretching their long, grey limbs toward the sky, as though yawning after having had an excellent night's sleep. Those are, of course, the hard woods, for the soft-woods still seem to sleep, nodding their heads un- ceasingly in the refreshing morning air. The mountains, however, vary in their appearance, for old Moxie fto the north and east! raises a bold, but bare, head above all the surrounding country as though it too, agreed with the sun. The fact that it has a white, though slightly dirty, cap pulled low over its massive head only helps to emphasize its contempt.

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14 BOREAS He didn't want to ask his father stupid questions, so he gave it up and soon forgot it. After a while he said, I don't hear it H Don't hear what? The Hulling Machine! I thought it made an awful noise! He was dis- appointed, Wait till we get up there, his father laughed. They left the car parked just below the old railroad bridge that crossed the East Branch. As soon as he climb- ed out, he heard a faint roaring, which seemed to come partly from the river below and partly from a long way off. His father strapped the pack on and started off on the trail, walking as easily as though it were an ordinary sidewalk, while he stumb- led after him, taking two steps to his father's one. The trail led along the river but farther up on the bank, so that most of the time the river was hidden by the trees. The roaring grew louder and loud- er. He was panting now, while his fa- ther walked without any apparent ef- fort. At last the trail turned and headed down to the bank. He thought he heard his father say something but the roar of the water drowned it out. They stood on a ledge by the river and he gazed at the Hulling Ma- chine . He watched the rushingwater- fall and spray. The drop was not very far, but there was so much water booming down over that the roar was deafening. He threw a stick into the white water and it disappeared at once. His father climbed down the ledge which ran along the river and helped him climb down. The ledge was flat- ter below the Hulling Machine , so that it was easy to fish here. His fath- er was telling him to stay away from the edge, and helping him rig up his line. When he was ready, his father moved up and fished above the Hull- ing Machine. He could see him cast- ing easily into the white water. He threw his leader with the White Ghost into the water. He stared at the dark water flowing past him and tried to see his line. At last he pulled as hard as he could, the fly came whizzing out of the water and shot over his head. It lay on the rocks behind him. He laid down his rod and went to pick it up. He walked as near as he dared to the water's edge and threw the fly in again. He ran to get his rod before a fish got off with the whole thing. He stood for a long time holding on tight- ly. Watching the swift water in the sun made him sleepy and a little dizzy. He looked at his father. He was still casting, lifting the rod easily, holding it a second, then moving it forward. The line sailed out gracefully. It was about time for him to cast again, he decided. He lifted his rod carefully, but the line wouldn't come -it held fast. He had snagged it on the bottom, he was always doing that when he fished with worms. But how would he get it out? What would his father say if he lost the whole thing, White Ghost and all? Suddenly the line moved---it was going up towards the Hulling Machine . A fish-he had a fish! he though excitedly. He shouted for his father, but the roar was louder. He looked desparately in his direction. His father was watch- ing-he almost thought he was laugh- ing! The line went out farther and

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16 BOREAS A long roll of white hills stretches its muscled arm to the south from old Moxie and disappears below the tree tops juts before touching old Fletcher, which slopes up from the same great depths and humps its shoulder under the sun as though vainly trying to help it to its great height in the heavens. Mayfield nestles itself like a wedge into this gap as though trying to hide itself and at the same time trying un- successfully to see what the outside world looks like. Why it should try to hide, even in winter, is beyond me, for it has a place of honor and is paid great attention in mid-summer, when the sun will cast its unsatisfied eye up- on the same territory but upon a vast- ly different scene. Floriman Andrews '44 It ik 41 HK SOLEMN PRAYER by Floriman Andrews Oh Keeper of great kingdoms, The dear Lord of our birth, Thou Maker of great heavens, The sun, the moon and earth, Is thine the hand that guides us Along the path of strife? Art Thou, mankind's Creator, The taker of his life? Has Thou two souls, oh Father, With which to guide us right, The first one great, yet gentle- The other of cruel might? Dids't Thou make War for pleasure, To touch the earth with blight, Or just to guide Thy children, And bring them all Thy light? I pray it be for guidanceg In righteousness of mind- May all the hosts of evil Thy mighty judgement Iind. PF ik all PK A TALL TALE' Once upon a time when Brighton, Maine, was much, much larger than it is now, a hunter and trapper by the name of Lote Smith lived there. He often told this story, which was his favorite. I am going to tell it to you now in his own words. Wal, boys, he's begin, maybe you've heard this before, but I know you'll be glad to hear it again. One day, I'm goin through the woods with my gun slung over my shoulder when I spies a big pine stub with a hole down the middle. Bein 'quisitive as all really great hunters are, I decides to iind out just what's inside o' that stub. So I lays my gun agin a tree and I climbs to the top of that stub. Wal, I git to the top and looks down the hollow when BANG!!! my gun slides down and goes off. That bullet whist- les by my ear and it scares me so I jump straight into the air four feet, if it's an inch, off the stub. When I comes down I fall right straight inter the hollow. Wal, I stays there two days and a half and when I come out I'm so thin people 'stake me for my own shadder. But the third morning I'm there I hear a scratch on the bark. I thinks to my- self, 'Bet my old straw hat that's a bar! Wal, it is and here's what hap- pens. I waits there and I'm scared al- most to death. At last the bar comes down backwards and I'm in there waiting. At last he gets down fur enuf to reach his tail. Wal, I git a good