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

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BLUE AND WHITE THE LEGACY A Short Story by Janet Abare Blue Ridge was conscious that Marguerite Hubbard was planning on collecting the bills of her father. Doctor Hubbard, as they were all she had left from her father's inheritance. Everyone also knew that Bill Whitcomb was an ever present shadow as far as Marge was concerned. As she came out of the house, she was not surprised to find him just coming up the walk. “Hello Bill, I guess I’m all set to start collecting this morning. I’ve all the files straightened out. I’m visiting ‘Old Mrs. Budge’ this morning; she lives on the River Road. See you this afternoon.” On arriving at the old tumble-down house on River Road. Marge wondered why Mrs. Budge didn't fix up her house, since she came into her unknown fortune. She rapped on the door and when Mrs. Budge appeared she presented her the bill dated a year previous. Mrs. Budge read the statement. then pulled her head in the door and cackled in a broken voice: “I ain’t never been to no hospital nor I ain't never had no fool doctors.” “Go away.” And so saying, she pulled the door shut. Marge was taken ’aback; she hadn’t expected anything like this. Reaching home after a tiresome day she was pondring over the mystery of Mrs. Budge. She was sure she had copied that bill addressed plainly to her. She would look again at the file. As she entered her father’s den, she halted abruptly. The room was a sight; papers strewn over the desk and floor. She went at once to the safe, but it had not been touched. She was puzzling over who the intruder might be, when Bill arrived. “Oh. Bill! Who could have done this? They must have been after something.” “Let’s pick up the papers, Marge, and we will be able to tell if anyhing is missing.” When the files had been righted, Marge remarked: “The only thing that is missing is an old record of a bill about services rendered Mrs. Budge. Who would want that?” Then she had to tell Bill about her experience with Mrs. Budge. After listening to her Bill asked: “You don’t suppose it could have anything to do with her fortune, do you ? Everyone said it was rather queer how she got all that money all of a sudden from some unknown person.” “1 think I’ll dig up some information about it out of the files down at the ‘Clarion.’ ” Next day, coming out of the corner drug store. Marge was so deep in thought that she nearly ran into a stranger. As she turned to get a better look at him, she was conscious that he had been watching her. She felt a chill. “What’s the matter with me? I’ve been so jumpy since Dad’s death; he’d say it was bad nerves. What’s odd in a stranger staring?” She turned het way to Maple Street forgetting for a moment the dark stranger who had stod watching her so intently. Bill was waiting for her when she returned; he had news. Marge. 1 couldn’t find anything in the files that might connect Mrs. Budge with this, except the fact that she had a young woman come to stay with her. They say she had a child, and was quite wealthy, but she was a sickly person. A little later, there was an article saying the woman passed away; then Mrs. Budge came into this money and she hasn’t let that child out of her sight since. There must be something definitely wrong.” There was a rap on the door. Marge went to answer it. There stood the stranger whom she had seen at the drug store. “Miss Hubbard, I presume?” “Yes.” “I’m a private detective, and I am looking for a little girl named Susan Reed.”

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22 VERGENNES HIGH SCHOOL AN ANCIENT CITADEL Behold me now, a covered ruin— Once I was a city wide. Here people lived and sang and danced. And yet I died, and yet I died! My people were tall and unafraid, Then I had no flaws to hide. I was the queen of all around— And yet I died, and yet I died! My watchtowers were the highest. Culture was my joy and pride. My temples the most beautiful And yet I died, and yet I died! Although the years have come and gone, And layers of soil my buildings hide, My teachings have lived on and on—• But once I died, but once I died! Jeanne Guyett, ’47. THE CORNER STORE Just around the corner from my house is a little white store. Not very large in appearance hut very important from my point of view. Its counters are immaculate and spread with goodies that every one enjoys. Its manager is always cheerful with a good word for everyone. Now this store really has a story to tell, for it helped catch the robbers of the First National Bank. The day of the robbery the little white store had delicious cream puffs in the window. Now it seems that one of the robbers enjoyed cream puffs so much that he couldn’t resist going in to have one. The other robbers didn’t trust him so they too went along. The manager, whose name I had forgotten to mention, was Fred Rivers, at once recognized them from the posters that had been tacked up all over town, as this was not the first bank they had robbed. Fred, being so jolly and cheerful managed to go to the back room without arousing their suspicion and called the police who came at once and captured the robbers. So you see, folks, the little white store with its window of cream puffs caught the bank robbers. “Molly” Burnham, ’47. AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A CAT Since on April fifth I will reach the ripe old age of four years, I deem it time to write the story of my life. To begin mv very eventful existence, I was born. To be more explicit. I was born in the lowly grain shed of a chicken farm. At the early age of six weeks, my brother and I were torn away from our dear mother and I was christened a variety of names. Among the most enduring of these was “Colonel Snoopnagle” which was shortly abbreviated to “Snoopy.” This phenomenon was somewhat due to my habit of breaking off my whiskers during my numerous explorations under my mistress's bureau and bed. Unfortnuately, my brother “Blackie,” not being born a gentleman as was I, had to go back to being a barn cat, because he couldn’t quite get used to houses. There was nothing unusual about my first year except that I developed an enormous appetite. Among my favorite tid-bits were kidney and liver, although I would accept steak and roast beef scraps as substitutes. During my second year, having explored everything in the house, I decided to enter the wide, wide world by way of a second story window much to the anguish of my family. I may also add that from that day forward, I made my exit by way of the front door. In my third year my adopted family bought a new living room suite, which was ideal for a cat to scratch his toe nails on. To this day, I can’t understand why everyone disagreed with me. Also, after trying all the chairs in the living room for comfort, I decided on the one by the radio, and I don’t thing it’s quite necessary to move me quite so often. Why don’t they let a cat have a little peace around here? Teresa Jean Bodette, ’48.

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24 VERGENNES HIGH SCHOOL “Say,” Bill exclaimed, “That's the young woman’s name who stayed with Mrs. Budge.” “Did you say Budge? Perhaps that’s whom I’m looking for.” Then he proceeded to tell them about a family who was looking for their little granddaughter, who was the heir to a fortune. They had heard of the death of their daughter, the child’s mother. Between them they put all the puzzling pieces together, and Mr. Prentice, the detective, thanked them and went to pay a visit to Mrs. Budge. He returned that night to tell Marge and Bill that Mrs. Budge had confessed to trying to take little Susan Reed’s fortune away from her. The child had been too small to handle the money, so Mrs. Budge had been left guardian by the dying woman. She was now being taken away, and Susan was to be returned to her rightful relatives. Within a few days Susan Reed returned to see Marge and presented her with one hundred dollars, in appreciation, and to help with College expenses in the fall. Such was an adventure in everyday life. “TOMORROW IS FOREVER” “Tomorrow Is Forever” is a novel written by Gwen Bristow. It is a story of a woman in love with two men, one a reality and the other only a haunting memory. Then her husband, who she has thought killed, returns, but he is so changed in personality and appearance that neither she nor her children recognize him. Not wishing to break up her recent marriage, he does not tell her who he is. He has adopted a war orphan and changed his name from Kittredge to Kessler. He takes an apartment for him and his adopted child and then very suddenly dies. Not until then does Elizabeth Herlong realize that this man was her husband. I enjoyed this book because it is so true to life, and typical of many war tragedies. Barbara Evans, ’49. “—AS OTHERS SEE US” Ah. here it’s time once again to tell you readers the “faults of the faculty.” I’ll begin with Mr. Berry, who hands out a little Sociology along with anything else that comes to mind. Most of the pupils of Mr. Galipeau’s math class can give you the dope on his yesterday's happenings. Mrs. Patterson is still entertaining us with an occasional French number in all her classes. No doubt most of the Home Economic girls are sewing buttonholes in their sleep—they’ve been doing them so long. Won’t their work pass for now, Mrs. Peck? If you were in Mr. Bishop’s sixth period study hall, very little studying would be accomplished. If anyone has completed an assignment there, let me know, will you ? Mrs. Nelson is really on her toes this year. She has even threatened to spank some of the seventh grade girls. Maybe a good spanking would do us all some good, Mrs. Nelson! Mr. Palermo is still out late nights, but he has learned the trick of keeping wide awake the next day. How do you do it, coach? Don’t ever try to argue on French with Mrs. Wright. She really knows her French, as well as her English. To Mrs. Berry goes this one fault— your Spanish students wish you would not give those Spanish numbers so fast. These are the faults of our faculty as I see them. Now that I’ve written them I have one little confession to make—the students have many more black marks than their teachers! Anonymous. Mr. Palermo: “What orchestra is that ?” Mrs. Berry: “That’s the orchestra that put the ‘din’ in the dinner and took the ‘rest’ out of the restaurant.”