Wells River High School - Chatterbox Yearbook (Wells River, VT)

Page 8 text:

The only thing that is comfortable in a dentist office is the chair. When you arrive the dentist dashes out with every appearance of great joy, just as if committing murder were the funniest thing imaginable. He escorts you to the torture room and while you watch in fear and trembling he gets out several pickers and punchers and pokers, and you are immediately reminded of the red gentleman from below with the long tail and pitchfork. He then takes a picker and starts picking around in your mouth. He says, “Ahem,” and sticks his pickers into your mouth. Of course you yell. He looks at a drawer full of torturous instruments in all sorts of twists and curves. He shakes his head and looks over some needles that look all the same to you and chooses one with great care. He then sticks it into the end of the drill which hangs over your head. The dentist leans over you with the drill in his hand and gently tells you to open your mouth. He drills and you yell for about a half hour. Though it seems to you like a million years. After this he mixes some white powder and a liquid which looks like quicksilver together in a glass jar. This concoction he makes into the form of a loaf of bread and cuts it into slices. He then takes it up into a vacuum cleaner-like thing and sticks it into your tooth. At this point you generally yell whether you are hurt or not, and start calling the dentist all sorts of names under your breath which go all the way from biology to physics.

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One can go fishing and hunting and indulge in any such hobbies as hiking and flower gardening or even raise a few beets, corn and beans. This new back-to-the-farm movement appears to be a perm- anent institution now as it is gaining force and speed every year. AUTUMN Oh, golden days of autumn, My heart within me thrills As I look about in wonder At the color of the hills. Thank God for all the splendor, And the beauty of the sight Of trees with arms uplifted In the glorious morning light. With canvas, paint and brush Long man has vainly striven, To catch the beauty of the hills, God’s gift to us from heaven. Oh, how I love to enter The woods on autumn days, When the noon tide sun shines brightly On the leaves that deck our ways. The birds seem loath to take their flight From flu1 brilliant colored hill And to the sunny southland go, For I can hear them still. When twilight comes, and over all Peace and quiet reign, I lay me down to sleep and dream O autumn days again. 5 —Catherine Morse ’44

Page 9 text:

He then takes one of the numerous pickers and smooths the stuff around in your tooth. He then wipes the excess sil- ver away, unties your bib and tells you that you may go. As you depart you think that before going to the dentist again you will join the church, make a will and commit suicide. —Jean Lanphere A NOISE What is that noise? Such a strange noise, like one that a burglar, sliding along on a soft carpeted floor might make as he wont to pilfer a rich drawer of silverware, or a tray of jewel's. What is that noise? Such a queer noise, like one that a screen door, left unhooked on a windy day as it sways to and fro in the breeze, or perhaps the cellar door squeaking as the cat gently pushed it open. What is that noise? Such a funny noise, as if the entire building had settled an inch because of the recent flood or perhaps that great stack of wood in the shed had slid forward a foot. What is that noise? Such an insane noise, as if a person had shrieked crazily in a moment of panic during a horrible night ma re. What is that noise? Such a frightful noise, as if four murderers, muttering and talking to themselves, had suddenly slashed their victim’s windpipe, and stood gloating over their victim as his life sighed away. What is that noise? Such an awful noise, as if a great symphony orchestra had played one crashing discord and then all was still, as if two autos, darting in and out of tiny streets had suddenly ended their lives in one awe-inspiring crash. What was that noise? Such a loud noise, as if all the cannon and guns of the Royal Navy had suddenly exploded into a salvo of energy. What was that noise? Such a peaceful noise!