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

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8 VERGENNES HIGH SCHOOL THE NEW YEAR’S PARTY Joan Casey, ’36 It was eleven-fifty on New Year’s Eve. The party was well under way. The orchestra was playing. Paper hats were bobbing on the heads of the dancers. Dim, rosy lights twinkled overhead. and on the tables tall candles flickered palely. Everywhere paper streamers; everywhere gaudy balloons floating like a swarm of butterflies over the heads of the dancers resting upon the shoulders of those seated at the tables. Everyone was merry, it seemed. Only one lone guest, at a corner table, smoking silently, took no part in the merriment. Dark and handsome, in correct evening dress, he drew many admiring looks, but he sat frowning and indifferent, alone. He was evidently the unwilling escort of some fair dancer. Suddenly, at the height of the din and the stir and the gaiety, a crimson balloon, tangled with a mass of paper streamers, fell across the flames of one of the flickering candles on a table not far from the lone man. The table was surrounded by a gay group. Swish— came the dread whisper of licking fire! In a breath there followed a growing shaft of glaring flame, shooting upward, and the shrieks of frightened women and the scraping of chairs and the rushing of feet. Panic! In a moment there would have been trampled, helpless forms to check the stampede toward the exit. But, over the wild confusion, rang a commanding: “Stop,” in a voice that held all as if in a spell. The lonely watcher had sprung up, shouted his order, and, in one leap, was beating out the rising flame with his overcoat, hastily torn off, tearing down the streamers, stamping upon and smothering the smoldering mass of fire that had fallen to the floor. It was over as soon as it had begun. Laughter rang out again and the music burst forth with new volume. Some of the guests gathered about the hero of the occasion, but he paid no heed to anyone save a tall, lovely woman in a scarlet velvet gown. He spoke to her, frowning. “Aren’t you ready to go home?” he asked. “Oh, I must have one more dance,” she answered gaily, and floated off in the arms of a tall partner, her blond head shining against his dark shoulder. “Ha, Ha!” jested one of the men, “Your girl turned you down, eh?’ “Girl nothing!” growled the hero, sulkily, as he slouched back to his table. “Girl, nothing! She’s my mother!” APRIL TWELFTH Mildred Bruce, ’34 April skies don’t always smile And today is dreary; Skies above are overcast Making all hearts weary. Now the heavens pour down rain And the wind is blowing. What! I can’t believe my eyes ! Yes, indeed! It’s snowing. April showers bring May-flowers In the early spring; But I ask you, Mother Nature, What do April snows bring? Do they bring the snow-drop? Bowing to.the breeze? No. they only bring more sap To the maple trees.

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7 BLUE AND WHITE THE JOYS OF ANTICIPATION Mildred Bruce, ’34 In the morning mail Cap Stubbs received an unusual epistle. The stationery was pale green, delicately scented, and delicately addressed. He sniffed its perfume before he opened it. This was inclosed: Dear Cap Stubbs: 1 am having a birthday party next Monday afternoon and I want you to come. Little Orphan Annie and Skippy will be here, too. Do say you will come. Love, Mary Margaret. Cap consulted his calendar and, after due deliberation, arrived at the conclusion that next Monday night would be March fourth. He proceeded to act without delay. “Oh Ma! Don’t you think I need a new suit? Lookit this one. You’ve patched the back an’ at the knees an’ here’s another place here that’s worn. Some of the buttons are off, too. An’ this buttonhole is busted. Can I go down to Moore’s an’ pick out a suit with long pants? Huh, Ma?” “Why Cap Stubbs, what is the matter with you? I’ve never known you to complain about holes in your clothes before. In fact, rather the opposite. No. I don’t think you need a new suit. You couldn’t have one now anyway. We can’t afford it. Go and fill the woodbox.” Cap reluctantly started for the woodshed. Returning in a few minutes with an armful of wood, he renewed the attack from a different angle. “Ma, don’t you think I need a hair-cut? Can I go down to Dickson’s and have it cut? Huh, Ma?” “Cap Stubbs,” said his astonished mother, “you know verv well you iust had your hair cut. Don’t ask any more foolish questions, and tend to that woodbox.” Cap again started obediently toward the wood-shed. Here his grandmother found him a few minutes later, sitting on the saw-horse eying the toe of his shoe reflectively. “Grandma, don’t you think 1 need a new pair of shoes? These are almost worn out. An’ just lookit those toes! The heels are run down, too. Will you ask ma if I can have some shoes? Will you, huh. Grandma?” Grandma had been an unobserved witness to the scenes in the kitchen so she replied, “My lan'! You just got a new pair of shoes about two weeks ago. 1 think you better fill that woodbox as vour mother told you to do.” But Cap Stubbs unobtrusively disappeared. During the week he made several more attempts to gain his ends, waylaying his father, mother, and grandmother in turn until finally his father bribed him to keep still by giving him a dime. Cap promptly visited Woolworth’s where he bought a beautiful new tie with brilliant blue and orange stripes. The great day arrived. Cap donned his Sunday suit, put on his new tie, and sallied forth. He ascended the steps of Mary Margaret’s home and confidently rang the door-bell. No one answered. He rang again. No response from within. Apprehensively he rang a third time. Then he spied a pale green envelope tacked to the door, addressd to Cap Stubbs. Anxiously he drew forth the contents and unfolded the single sheet. With consternation he read these words—“April Fool.” Had he forgotten to tear a leaf off his calendar?

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BLUE AND WHITE 9 EXTRACT FROM THE DIARY OF WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT February 27. 1860 Today, at Cooper Institute, I presided at a meeting of the Young Men’s Central Republican Union. The speaker of the day was a man from the West, Abraham Lincoln, known to the East only through word of his successful debates with Douglas. As best I could, before he spoke, I studied the man. He was obviously nervous, and no wonder—with his ill-fitting clothes and awkward country manner. He might impress the Western farmers, of whom he himself was one, but I had my doubts about this sophisticated Eastern group. I introduced him. Awkwardly he approached the center of the stage. Every eye was upon him. “Mr. President, and Fellow-Citizens of New' York,” began his high pitched drawl. A stir swept over the audience. With all my heart I pitied the man. But little did 1 know him! He started his subject. At once he went directly to the point, presenting Douglas’s recent statement that “our fathers, when they framed the government under which we live, understood this question as well, and even better than we do now.” He stated the question. Pie made clear who “the fathers of our government” were. He proved that they had already acted upon this question in the favor of the Republicans. He addressed the Southerners themselves. He proved THEM to be unjust, sectional, and non-conservative. not the Northerners. With scathing irony he presented their case, and their arguments. He had by now warmed to his subject. He did not need my pity; he demanded my respect, and that of every man in the audience. His was not the grand eloquence of Webster; it was the simplicity of the man that was compelling. With his clear logic he shattered every argument of Stephen Douglas and the entire South. At last he addressed the Republicans themselves. Pleading with them to do their duty as they saw it, he ended. The crowd that had at first regarded him critically, now rose to its feet with one accord. The hall rang with applause. He was undoubtedly a success. Somehow I know this man is destined to be great. Soon the North and the South must clash over this question. Already I hear thunder in the distance. Is this man fated to pilot us through the coming storm? I wonder. Shirley Haven, ’34. WHY? Barbara Bristol, ’34 While walking in the garden This early sunny morn, I saw a lacy evening dress A fairy once had worn. I found a shady silent place Where I could think things out, For T was greatly puzzled As to how this came about. Last night the moon shone brightly, Of that I was quite sure, There also was the music Of an insect overture. With these considerations I still do not know why The little gown was left there. What does it signify?