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

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nothing that suits me. The period is passing by and I haven’t a word written. Now the problem is how am I going to tell Mrs. Rowe, because sometimes it is kind of ticklish trying to explain to her things like unprepared lessons! Now, that’s no excuse, Everett, I will see you tonight after school, and we’ll discuss this more fully.” Now I see any haircut flying away on wings; I see myself staying that awfully long forty minutes after school. The period is all gone by—there goes the bell— no essay—no haircut. Oh, heck! —Everett Dargie ’45 AH! TO BE A POET Writing a poem is a terrible task, Teachers who demand it don’t know what they ask. Some folk’s thoughts just naturally rhyme, But people like me have a terrible time. I sit and think and think and think, To find some word to rhyme with pink. I’ll write one line then write another, Then I’ll get stuck and call for mother. Mother says, Write about birds and bees, Flowers and rivers and meadows and trees.” Father says, Write about battles in mud, Dogfights and hurricanes, buckets of blood.” But of all these I know nothing at all, My mind still remains a$ blank as a wall. I’d rather go swimming or lie in the sun, Than to start a poem that never gets done. After getting no where, I give up in despair. Anyone who can rhyme, Is a better man than I’m. —Virginia Hamel ’44

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his bench. Then he sat down and stuffed some tobacco into his old corn-cob with his thumb. He scratched a match on the seat of his pants and puffed away in silent contentment. Soon he was aroused by a voice call- ing from above, Grampa Jack, you down there?” Yes, Mary.” Time for you to get to bed if you’re goin’ trappin’ tomorrow.” I’ll be up soon.” You come up now. It’s nine o’clock.” - The old man knocked his pipe on his shoe, put it in his pocket and shuffled upstairs to bed mumbling about daughters who wouldn’t ever treat their fathers like grown up men. The next morning the alarm clock went off at 3:30. Grampa Jack slowly got up, turned off the alarm, and sank back on the bed, meaning to get up and dress in a moment. When his daughter, Mary, got up at 6:00 she went into his room and found him sound asleep. It was too late now for him to go. Too bad he had missed an- other year, for his trapping days were about over. —Virginia Hamel ’44 SCATTERBRAIN ESSAY Yesterday, my English teacher, Mrs. Rowe, told me to write an essay. Today I sit here and think, and think, but it is no good—I can’t think of a thing to write. My mind keeps wandering to different things, for example, How am I going to get a haircut on school time?” I am thinking of many ways, when suddenly the vis- ion changes to Mrs. Rowe’s office. I can even hear her telling me—well you know what she would be saying. I decide that asking permission for a school-time haircut is out of the question and I start talking with the fellow next to me. Immediately I hear my name sung out by Mrs. Gibson. Nothing to do, Dargie?” I look around the room to find inspiration for that blasted essay, but there is 13

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WHAT ARE YOU DOING? What are you doing to help win the war, To rid the world of strife—to make it safe and free, To bring our boys safely back again? Are you in uniform? Do you buy war bonds and stamps? Do you collect scrap? And be as saving as you can? Perhaps you roll bandages And write letters everyday to the boys, Who used to be your neighbors, Or someone even dearer to you. Maybe you’re an air raid warden Or keep watch for enemy planes. And again you may be working in a factory Like your dad did before the war. If you keep faith in God, And the leaders of the government And do several of these things, You’re a good American. You can be sure of that. Or do you help Hitler and Mussolini, And that little Jap, named Tojo? You think you could run the country Better than the president? Well, you’re a pretty smart person if you can. You buy from the black market, While others have meatless Tuesday? You’re feasting on a big thick steak? And you have plenty of sugar, and butter? Others take only their share. In Europe there usually isn’t any at all. You don’t give to the Red Cross Or take your turn at the lookout post? 15