Wells High School - Crimson and Gray Yearbook (Southbridge, MA)

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THE CILMSON AND GRAY only those which are deemed worthy of the paper are put into it; nevertheless, we would like as many contributions as poss- ible in order that we may have a greater choice of the best. M. L. Clemence, ' 30. THE WAY OF THE DESERT In the cool, grey hours of early dawn, a long caravan wound slowly among the desert sand dunes. It belonged to a desert tribe who were searching for new camp- ing grounds. All that night, and for many nights, they had marched on without finding an oasis which fitted their needs. Although their quest had thus far been fruitless, they had been exceedingly fortunate, for they had encountered no warring tribes nor had they been troubled by sand storms. The sky was streaked with red and yel- low, giving promise of a hot, clear day, so the the leader stated. Slowly they con- tinued across the sands now gleaming crimson in the sun ' s early rays. Over the desert ' s rim the sun peeped, a living ball of fire. A hush fell over the Arabs who had halted for their morning prayer. The bronzed and bearded face of the old sheik gleamed in the bright sunshine as with sonorous voice he bade the clan prepare to camp until nightfall. The hush was broken by the babel of many clans- men as they hastened to dismount their beasts. Above the babel of voices rose another sound, wailing, roaring sound which stay- ed them in their places. Along the horizon there extended — to the north and south — a long, low, golden wall, a wall which bore down upon the little tribe and with a wail of wind a blinding shower of sand dashed upon the clan. Too late to erect tents, too late to do anything but strive to keep together and to breathe. The caravan slowly proceeded to get under way as the voice of the sheik rose above the soughing of the wind. The sun was obscured, yet the heat was sterrific. The tiny bits of dust clung to the cloaks of the clansmen, blinded them, stifled them in spite of cloaks under which they huddled. The swirling sand made it more and more difficult for the camels. Slower and slower the beasts wended their way and at last they sank to their knees, unable to further battle with the ever blowing sands. The sand continued t-to drift about the motionless figures. Im- possible to exist much longer the old sheik thought, when with a parting blast and wail the desert storm passed and the sun shone once more on the partly hidden figures. As the atmosphere cleared the old sheik — tried to rise. Having succeeded in shaking off the sand, which partly cover- ed him, he turned to aid his clan. Soon all was confusion as tents were set up and food prepared. All was well now and they could rejoice that all were present once more after the fearful storm. No, not all were present, the stranger who had joined several days ago, the stranger who because of his strange plight they had named the ' ' Lone One, had disappeared. Beyond the dunes in the wake of the tribe a lone camel and rider plodded thru the golden sand. The rider dozed in the saddle as the beast swayed to and fro. Above the sun rose higher and hotter in the sky. The tired camel sank to its knees in the shadow of a dune, but the rider slept on. The sun had set when the Lone One, awoke, for it was he, and gazed about him. He roused the camel, drank some of his precious supply of water, and set out to E ' .earch for the clan from which he had be- come separated in the sorm. Alone in the relentless desert with only a tiny canteen of water and with a weary, thirsty camel for a companion. The Lone One pondered on his plight. Guided by the stars and the Arab instinct for direc- tion he set out in the probable direction of the tribe and the oasis to which they were bound. All night he traveled and when dawn came without success he crouched by his weary camel and slept. With the coming of another night he drank the remainder

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LITERAXUR THIS MATTER OF IMPRESSIONS One ' s first impression of something or of somebody is almost always the strong- est, the most important and the most last- ing. A first impression which is pleasant is strong enough to overcome many bad impressions which may follow. Is it not true that most people meeting others for the first time try to have their most pleas- ing expression, their most agreeable man- ner, their most becoming aspect in the face? This only serves to prove that the first impression is the most important one but it should be followed by others that are also good. The first impression of our high school is unmistakably very pleasant. Through many years of careful labor the ivy which has been planted from year to year by each graduating class has grown so that it covers all of the original high school building. If one were to travel through the surrounding towns in the county as various athletic teams have, one would discover high schools which are newer, which are of more modern equipment, and are of more pleasing architecture, but no- where would there be found a high school which has that mellow dignity imparted to our school by the ivy. It is now the care of the entire student body to see that this ivy is not destroyed. It is also the student ' s duty to see that this first pleasing impres- sion is followed by others which are also favorable. Perhaps you have noticed from time to time men from various business organi- zations visiting the high school. Almost without exception these men seem keenly interested in the passing of classes in the corridors and the manner by which it is manoged. Is it not likely that quiet and orderly passing of classes will create a good impression on these men who are re- presentatives of efficient business con- cerns and on all others who visit the high school? However, there good impressions will be formed by only a comparative few who visit the high school — -there are many others, who, although they are -interested in our school, rarely if ever visit it. It is just as important that a good impression of us be formed by them. The manner by which this may be brough about is by you yourselves and the school paper. The Crimson and Gray is the greatest advertising medium of the school except you — the student body — and you are the greatest advertising medium in the local community. It is, therefore, neces- sary that you give your support to the Crimson and Gray, not only by your sub- scriptions but also by your contributions, in order that we may create a favorable impression. The articles which are contri- buted from time to time are censored and

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THE CRIMSON AND GRAY of his water and set out. Slower and slower over the shining sands the weary- camel plodded. Towards dawn with a sigh the wornout beast sank to its knees, to rise no more. When the sun had once more sunk be- yond the desert ' s edge the Lone One plodded through the clinging sands. With- out wa ' ter, without food, the old man stag- gered up and down the drifting sands, hampered by the long cloak and clinging, shifting sands. Gathering new strength to climb each diT e v ith the thought that over the top of this one he would find relief. Up and down, on and on he staggered, growing even weaker. Darkness was giving way to the grey light preceding dawn when at last the weary old man reached a dune higher than all others. Surely beyond this there would be aid and his seamed face bright- ened at the thought. Up and up he dragged himself until he reached the top. Beyond lay — not an oasis — a towering dune still higher than that on which he stood. With a groan of despair and disappointment the helpless old man raised his arms to the eastern sky and then — he fell with a cry, sliding, roll- ing to the bottom of the dune. In the little oasis of M all was confusion and content as the inhabitants hastened to make the best of the cool morning hours. A white man, presumably English, emerged from a tent, gazed spec- ulatively about the little village, and slowly sauntered toward the oasis ' edge. Climbing the towering dune which mark- ed the edge of the oasis he purposed to watch the sun rise. Above the desert ' s rim the sun rose in a blaze of color. Its early beams revealed the man standing on the dune above the village, revealed also the body lying at the foot of the sand hill. With an exclamation the Englishman half ran, half slid, down the mound to the recumbent figure. Gently he grasped the body and turned it over. One glance at the aged face and the empty canteen tightly grasped in the stiffened hand told the story. Softly the Englishman rose and with bared head murmured So near to the precious water which you lacked. How in- explicable is the way of the desert. Dorothy M. Lanphear, ' 31 THE FIGHT The rat-tat-tat-a-tat-tat of a machine gun broke upon the still night; an answering machine gun opened farther down the line and then the staccato barks of rifles opened. The noise swelled in volume; a whistling scream from overhead, then a thunderous roar broke out all up and down the line — the cannons had started in — it would be a night of fight. Division 5 — was ordered out to reconnoit- er for a counter-attack. Captain O ' Neil or- dered Sergeant Duffy to take five picked men and go in front as scouts. The sergeant took John Hadjet, Fred Brown, Jack Dil- Tngs, Tom Kingley and George Fleming. John Hadjet, the first man chosen, was taken because of his great bravery. Although admitted that he was brave, nobody liked him because of his conceit and his boasting, for he was always boasting and was so con- ceited that he thought that he was a better man than General Pershing himself. It would not be so bad in his boasting but HE was always the hero; to hear him talk one would th ' nk that he had won all the wars that had ever been fought all by himself. The men went forward on their dangeronw errand. Every now and then a flare would go up and they would drop to the ground as if they had been shot through the heart. All of a sudden they stumbled upon a large machine gun nest, most likely the one that had opened up hostilities that night. There were three machine guns in it with three men to a gun and another man, pre- sumably, an officer, in charge of it all. One man saw Hadjet and with a shout, turned his machine gun on him, another grabbed a rifle. The first hail of bullets got Dillings and Fleming, wounded Sergeant Duffy; then the man with a rifle got King- ley. That was when Hadjet and Brown went to work. Hadjet jerked the safety pin from a hand-grenade and with a curse threw it at