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

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10 VERGENNES HIGH SCHOOL FROM A WESTERN WINDOW Euphrosyne Ward, ’35 The sun, setting in all its glorious colors, showed a last ray above the snow-covered hill. The trees, not a leaf on them, stood silhouetted against the sky. Here and there an evergreen raised itself proudly among the bare trunks of its less fortunate friends. To give the scene a more blissful peacefulness, the road wound among the houses and left an impression of a river, gliding through its many curves. The sun sank lower. A small white house beside the road caught the last colors on the roof, passing them to the snow. Near the house a small pond of ice for skating shone like a polished mirror. This also had a touch of the color. Twilight settled softly over the scene. Mailer Hyatt 1915-1931 '3ffor utltu knouts if life tying that ute rail heaty 3s life. atth uur life hying—utho ran knout ? S’attr only that ute all beneath the sun Are airk atth suffering, anb tyose gone before Not sirk, not tourheh with euil.” Enriyihes

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BLUE AND WHITE 9 he took out his handkerchief, wet it in the bubbler, and wrapped it around his face. At last he saw the flag in the midst of all the smoke. He imagined he was in a battle with Washington and that he could see Old Glory waving in the breeze. He unfastened the flag and rolled it in a tight roll. Fire was snapping and cracking all around him, and red and blue flames were bursting through the principal’s office. Everywhere he saw fire. Putting the flag inside his shirt, he got down on his hands and knees. In this way he did not get quite as much smoke and could feel his way slowly downstairs. Suddenly he fell through space and a sharp pain shot through his leg. The next thing he knew, he was lying on a coat under a tree. He tried to get up but found that his leg pained him and that it was bandaged tightly. Joe came over to him, grasped his hand, and asked rather huskily, “How are you feeling, Old Pal?” He caught Frank’s faintly mumbled answer, “All right, except for this bum leg ” Then he pulled out the flag. “I got the flag, Joe.—Our flag------------ Washington’s flag.” With this he slipped back into unconsciousness. About a week later as Frank lay in bed, Joe came into the room. “I’ve good news for you, Frank,” he burst out. The class has unanimously declared that you have won the George Washington contest. As soon as you are well, we are going to present you with the money.” “I’m glad,” Frank answered weakly. Just then his mother, better now and anxious for his welfare, came into the room. “Well, Soldier,” she greeted, “I’m glad to see you feeling so well today, but it’s time you rested now.” Yes, Mrs. Ruthford,” Joe interrupted, “and we’ve all agreed that Frank is a second George Washington.” TRANSITION Mary Lance, ’33 The mist rose soft on the picture lake As the light in the east came through, And the liquid notes of the hermit thrush Were borne to us clear and true. 'I'he birch that stood on the water’s edge Was reflected in mirror gray, Like a magic road where a fairy band Had fled on that shimmering way. Then the mist was gone from the picture lake, And the melody died away; And the breathless hush which had held us there Was gone with the coming day.

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BLUE AND WHITE 11 Laurette Beliveau. ’34; Jeanne Senesac, ’32, Editors Mon Ecole Unit henres sonnent a l’horloge. L'heure du depart pour l'ecole, et me voila en route avec mon frere Marcel comme compagnon et aussi comme con-ducteur du camion puisque nous sommes a une distance de onze milles de notre petite ville de Vergennes oil se trouve notre ecole. Me voici; mes.livres sous un bras, mon diner sous l’autre et le sourire aux levres, c’est bien entendu. Mon ecole n’est pas un chateau, ce n’est pas memo une construction de briques. Non, c’est une modeste edifice de bois a quatre etages, sise sur une petite elevation, occupant j’oserais dire le centre de la ville. J’arrive done a la classe avec des plans plein la tete; mais avant de les mettre en execution, je jette discrete-ment un regard de cote afin de savoir si mes professeurs soient tous de bonne humeur. C’est peu de chose d’ordinaire mes infractions d’ecoliere, un mot pour rire, un tour joue, un clin d’oeil, que sais-je! Dans le cours de la journee, la sagesse revient et je me mets a l’etude serieuse. . . . Lorsque plus tard, je jetterai mes yeux sur ces quelques lignes; que mes seize ans avec leurs souvenirs retom-beront loin dans le passe. Je pourrai dire: “Merci, mon Dieu, de m’avoir donne pour professeurs ces quelques-uns qui m’ont appris a comprendre, a aimer et a souffrir.” Jeanne d’Arc Senesac, ’32 Nous lisons k present dans la classe de framjais de la troisieme annee un livre bien interessant, “Trent-trois contes et nouvelles,” dont Monsieur Pargment est l’editeur. Notre profes-seur de franqais, Madame Patterson a fait sa connaissance a Middlebury. Ce livre est presque nouveau pour cette ecole-ci. la classe de l'annee passe ayant ete la premiere a le lire. C’est une collection de trent-trois his-toires et contes ecrits par dix-huit dif-ferents auteurs franqais. Les histoires sont parniis les plus belles et les plus bien ecrites de la langue franqaise. elles ont ete choisies avec beaucoup de soin. Elles ont des notes publiees en franqais qui nous aident beaucoup a les lire parce (pie les histoires ne sont point des plus faciles. Parmi les auteurs sont: Anatole France, Michel Corday, Alphonse Daudet, Guy de Maupassant, Prosper Merimee, et Paul Bourget. Une histoire bien interessante que nous avons lue c’est “LTnutile”, par Henri Bordeaux, qui raconte comment un petit homme, qui ne peut se battre, peut cependant tourner une bataille. Une autre bien amusante histoire c’est “Les Deux Saints”, par Jules Le-maitre, histoire d’une controversie