Vergennes Union High School - Blue and White Yearbook (Vergennes, VT)

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TIIE BLUE AND WHITE. 9 Stories. Harry’s Victory. With his heart full of anger and disappointment Harry Mason took down his hat and started for the potato patch. His eyes were flashing and his every movement showed plainly that he was very much out of sorts. “That’s always- the way, I never can go anywhere ! I always have,to stay at home and work. Uncle Henry always finds something for me to do if I ever plan to go anywhere and if he can’t, Aunt Minerva can. Now there’s Tom Clark, he don’t have half as hard a time as I do, and has a little fun once in awhile. I wished I lived some place 'else. These potatoes don’t need hoeing, it’s just an excuse for spoiling my good time.” Far down the road the lusty cries of a wagon load of boys were heard, which perhaps did not help Harry to bear his disappointment any the better. “It’s our nine, the ‘Crescents,’” cried Harry, watching them with eager eyes, “and they’ll stop for me. I wonder if there’s a ghost of a chance that Uncle Henry will change his mind and let me go, but no, he never does when he gets his mind made up and he won’t this time.” At that moment the load drew up at the gate and inquired where Harry was. “He ain’t going today, boys,” replied Mr. Mason smiling, “he’s got to hoe the potatoes, weeds are getting thick.” “Oh yes, do let him go this once,” came from all the boys in a chorus, but to no avail, and they soon drove on leaving Harry behind. The “Crescents” were to take part in a game of baseball with the “Invincibles” of Graniteville to decide the championship of the two teams. Each team had won a game in the series of three, which had been arranged at the opening of the season. The tirst game at Graniteville resulted in a victory for the Crescents by a score of four to three. The triumphant return of the Crescents and their midnight bonfire need not be described. Then preparations for a return game had begun. But more time had been spent in leveling the field and composing flaming posters than in practicing Fully two hundred people had gathered to witness the easy victory. Things had not gone just as had been expected. It is true Harry’s home run caused some excitement but the final score stood three to one. The horns and drums of the “Invincibles” were now busy, but “long and loud were the lamentations of the Crescents.” Stubborn faces gathered round while the coin was tossed which decided the scene of the next game. The result was that it should be in Graniteville. Harry was the most skillful player on the team and his excellent catching had played no small part in the first victory. He was very anxious that his team should win this especial game and every boy on the team was as sorry as himself that he could not go. As the load rolled away, our hero returned to his work with a heavy heart. Harry was not a lazy boy and generally liked the farm work but today it was different. Soon afterward he heard his uncle and aunt drive out of the yard toward the village and he knew that he would be left alone all day. What a chance to run away and join his friends after all! The temptation stared him in the face, but at last he put it away and went back to his work. At noon he ate his dinner of bread and milk in the lonely house and, after doing a few chores, went out to the potato patch again. After he had finished the fifth row he exclaimed: “Whew! it’s hot, I guess I’ll rest a few minutes.” Near by were some small evergreen trees growing close to an old stone wall, and it was into these that Harry crept out of the hot sun. Pretty soon he thought he could hear the sound of voices and raised nimself and looked through a crack in the wall. Yes, there were two tramps talking in subdued tones. “I tell ye, it’s the chance of a lifetime. The cashier has gone off fur his vacation and that greenhorn teller of his’n can easily be scared out of his wits. ’Member at eleven o’clock sharp though the side winder.” Harry straightened up and looked blankly into space for full five minutes. What could it mean? Were they plotting to rob the village bank? Yes, that was certainly it. But what should he do to thwart their plan ? Harry was not long idle but ran to the house to inform his uncle and aunt, but found to his dismay -that they had not yet arrived. No time must be lost, however, and a horse was quickly saddled.

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8 Limericks THE BLUE AND WHITE. Another fond youth went to sea ; On an isle he long wished to be. And when he got there llis Ellen so fair Signalled, “Yes Doc it’s all skee.” Although Harris, ’08, Very often is late, He always does pass To the next higher class Even tho’ he does hibernate. There was a small girl named Jeanne, Her temper was calm and serene; But she set up a cry, And wouldn’t “ by by,” For her daddy was not to be seen. The minister’s son is a good looking chap (?) And he says that for girls he don’t give a rap. But although we ought not, we do doubt his word For on Comfort hill there dwelleth his Bird. At her in school time he often does glance And thinks of the pleasures which follow a dance. A studious fellow is Meigs And long are his nose and his legs. With the girls he’s in line, And spends all his time And is happy to be near that sex(tion). Stone, ’06. “Not one kiss more Did she say that to me? When the mistletoe’s gone There’s no fun 1 can see.” In this town there’s a girl named Parker And often a lad came to spark her. But she sat on high banks, And never said thanks, When the youth wished ’twould grow darker. Harris, ’07, is the best in Greek II And if you should ask why ’tis true I’d answer as simple as simple can be That the only one in his class is he. A wonderful hunter is Field, To his weapons the beauties all yield. With his box and his smile, Which he wears all the while, Yes a wonderful hunter is Field. Willis, ’06 is very prolix And brags of his sand When there’s none in demand. When his part comes to Belle He feels like well— His sand falls below The mark of zero.

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10 TIIE BLUE AND WHITE. lie was soon flying at breakneck speed toward the village to inform the bank officials. After hearing his story, a police force was quickly summoned to receive the would be robbers when they should arrive. Promptly at eleven o’clock one of them crawled in through the side window and was suddenly seized and thrown to tne floor; the other one' was also soon caught and securely bound. Harry was then called before the bank president and bountifully rewarded for his timely assistance in saving the bank. Just then the news came that the game had been postponed a week on account of showers, which began in the second inning. But this is another story. Elizabeth Adams, ’06. [To be continued.] My Autobiography. When first I saw the fight of day, I thought the world was a black and dull place, and no wonder, for I was born in a coal bin. When I was a few days old, my mother carried me to the woodshed where I sported and played with a lot of other children about my age. I was then ushered into the kitchen, but met with a rather warm reception in the shape of a cup of hot water hurled at me by the cook. When about a year old, I was asked to participate in a concert to be given by a number of young bloods. Of course I at once joined the band. At our first rehearsal, on the gable end of the roof, where we had all raised our melodious voices in heavenly music, a comet came sweeping along the ridgepole, in the shape of a number eleven shoe. It struck right into our midst and hurled several of us from the roof; that is why I am now bobtailed. I lost the rest of it that night when it came in contact with the comet. My next experience was of a thrilling nature, One day while frisking about in the woodshed I was captured by two boys, who carried me to a field which bordered the house on one side. In this field was a large pond, now covered with nice glary ice. The little rascals then split two English walnuts in half and tied a shuck on each of my feet. They put me in the middle of the pond and gave me a shove. At every step I took, I slid in every direction, but finally with the aid of the wind I reached the shore, and in short order was home in the coal bin having mother take the things off. I was soon witness to one of the most shocking accidents, that ever happened in cat-dom. Of course you all know that when running we steer ourselves with our tails just as a ship is guided by the rudder. Well, poor Tom Scratch, who is a greyish color, was sleeping in the woodshed, where the hired man was chopping wood. Poor Tom looked so much the color of the wood, that the man mistook his tail for a small branch. He seized it, pulled it over the block and severed Tom’s tail close to the body. When Tom struck the giound, he bolted through the door, and started on a wild run, but alas, he could not steer himself and so cut all kinds of geometrical figures on the garden. At last he brought up against the barn cellar wall and dropped dead. Every time I recall this vision it stirs me to tears; 1 shall not be able to write any more this evening because of the scalding tears that are pouring from my eyes. Foster A. Young, ’06.