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

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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

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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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You say that patriotism is just bunk? But it isn’t. Not by a long shot. You’ll find out if we don’t win this war. But we will win it. Then you’ll think that you helped. But people will know you didn’t. If they saw you riding all the time When gas and tires were rationed Well, they will know you didn’t do what you could. Those of you who aren’t at all patriotic, But pretend to be, Don’t think you’re Americans. For you aren’t. You might as well be in an Axis army. As be a traitor to the home front. Again I say What are you doing to help win the War? —Dorene Pudvah ’46 ARBUTUS Little flower in woodlands bright, You are to us a welcome sight, Telling everyone of spring, And the joy which it will bring. Pink and white in your mossy bower, You’re ofttimes called the spring Mayflower. You’re like a lovely lady, Who’s all dressed up for spring. You bring us joyous tidings, Which ought to make us sing. —Lncile Judd ’48 16