West Paris High School - Nautilus Yearbook (West Paris, ME)

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Whew, I never thought I'd make it. Don't you simply hate this dress? I think it looks fumpy! sputtered Debby, now in her dress and nearly ready. She was scarcely recognizable as the girl who had been dressed in the blue jeans and plaid shirt just a very short while ago. As Debby swirled around to show off the dress she hated so much the door- bell rang. Oh, my goodness, there's jeff! Golly, throw me those pumps, will you please. jeff was waiting at the bottom of the stairs as Debby and YOU came down. He took one look at Deb and whistled. Gosh, Deb, he said, you look real cool! Why thank you, Jeff, l'm glad you like the dress. It's my favorite. Guess what, Dad said we could use the car tonight, isn't that wonderful? VVell, are you ready? I'd hate to be late for the party. As they started to go Debby suddenly turned to YOU. Golly, she said, I'm afraid I wasn't much help to you. I'm awful sorry, maybe some other time. No other time needed, Deb, I found out all I needed to know, said YOU with a smile. A FRESHMAN I saw a little Freshman Come walking in the door, His face was filled with sorrow, He just can't smile no more. In one hand was his beanie, On his face a forlorn look, He can't hang up his beanie 'Cause he cannot reach the hook. At his heels the faithful puppy Walked slowly down the aisle, His big eyes filled with sadness, He must leave his pal awhile. And so the little Freshman Took his seat among the rest, Though his head is filled with day dreams, He will try to do his best. Irene Berry, '60. There was an old man of Peru, Who's destination nobody knew, But once by mistake, A wrong road did take Now he lives in the town where he grew. William Whitman, '58. Mary Boyle, '58. I DARKNESS Darkness surrounds me Like the whisper of death. Its visage o'erwhelms me With subtle breath. The darkness is calm But, ah, not Ig As its silent shroud spreads With a shuddering sigh. Darkness broods terror Comes like a sprite, Darkness is madness Darkness-is night. E. Sundelin, '60. OUR TEACHERS We have a new French teacher, A young and handsome guy, If only he were single Oh, how the girls could Hy. The principal is next to come With his mighty voice, He rates tops and more as coach With all the basketball boys. Those who enter business course Lucky are they, true, For if you plan more schooling, It's easier to do. Scientist Stearns, the last in line, The head cheerleading boy, When basketball girls find victory It adds much to his joy. Elizabeth Abbott, '61

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YOU ASKED FOR IT Hi, my name is Debby Green. They said you were wondering jwt what makes a teen-ager tick, but l don't see why you decided to ask me, I'm ordinary. I'm not at all exciting like those kids you read about in bo! stories. Well, come on in anyhow and I'll try to help you. Whoops! I'm afraid you'll have to wait a minute, here comes my I've simply got to talk to him. I won't be long, so you might just as xl right here. That's my Pop there, the one with the bald spot on top. Woul think he would do something about that, he looks absolutely OLD! Hi, Pop, did you have a good day? a breathless Debby rushed to looking father. Hi, Deb. No, I had a terrible day. How about you? groaned Mr. Oh, it was okay, I guess. Dad, could jeff possibly use your car His had a flat tire, and . . UNO! NO! NO! How many times do I have to tell you? I will that scatterbrain young idiot driving my car! ! I The once tired-loolil Green now looked very angry, very angry indeed. Now, john, remember your blood pressure, soothed Mrs. Green, just entered from the kitchen, jeff is really a very competent driver, D they don't ask often. Let them take it tonight. You're not going to u you? Well, no, Martha, but began Mr. Green rather weakly. The ln spoken. No buts about it! Debby, you and jeff may use the car tonight, i very careful. Isn't that what you said, Dear? Mr. Green did not answer. He picked up his paper and went into muttering, Women, Women, Women! ! Gosh, thanks Mom. Do you have my new dress ready yet? I sim have it for Sandra's party tonight, bubbled a happy Debby. I'm awfully sorry, Honey, but I haven't had a minute to spare You'll have to wear your pink one. It really looks very nice on you, yo ventured a cautious Mrs. Green. Debby's face fell. She argued, Oh, Ma, no, I can't wear that thing! it's gooey! The look on Debby's mother's face gave Debby the answer s want. She was going to wear her pink dress. Debby, now over her disappointment a little, realized that it was got ready for the party. She turned to YOU and said, Oh, golly, I alm you. Come on upstairs with me and I'll try to help you while I dress. a A As Debby started up the stairs, followed by YOU, the telephone rarjg the kitchen came the call of Mrs. Green, Debby, Debby, telephone. awfully :ks and ad and ll wait on't you a tired- reen. onight? ot have ng Mr. ho had ar, and e it are oss had f you're the den lily must ll week. know, hy it's, if didn't ime she it forgot . From I'm here, Ma. Hello. Oh, Hi, -lane, I was wondering if you'd ca fFif- teen minutes, twenty minutes, twenty-five minutes pass.j Well, jane, I' e got to run to get ready for that party, jeff simply hates to wait. See you there. Mom, I'm not going to have time to eat. Save me a piece of cake, will you please. Come on YOU. bed, it's much more comfortable than that old chair. Debby walked bathroom, leaving shoes and socks lying in the middle of the floor. Ovell of the shower she and YOU carried on a conversation, but much to De prise YOU asked few questions, just talked. Before long Debby was showered and was struggling to get into dress. Oh, dear, she groaned, I've simply got to go on a diet! I'll morrow. 20 on the Now, to get back to YOU, we can talk while I get ready. Sit domin into the the roar by's sur- her pink start IO-

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THE VOICE OF AN ANGEL The story takes place in a little village in Italy. A man who kept faithfully for many years begins to write: january 27: Dear Diary, As you know, a year ago today I lost my wife and child. This is t ning of the new year for me and though I walk the streets and I'm lonel keep living in the past. Tomorrow I start anew with only God's help to g january 28: Dear Diary, Today I heard the voice of an angel, a little Polynesian girl. It e me as though it truly were that of a 'God-sent' voice. january 29: Dear Diary, 1 was told today that the little Polynesian girl, Rosita, lives with Rosita's aunt is old and she can't care for the house, or Rosita. To think little angel has to live in such fashion. February 5: Dear Diary, Maybe you wondered what had happened to the angel and me in week. The little angel? Don't worry, I haven't lost track of her. The lit haired, brown-eyed, 9-year old and I have been getting acquainted this By the way of lollipops, ice cream, sodas, and amusement park finally learned her story. Rosita's mother and father were killed in the w her alone in the world with only her elderly aunt to care for her. She understand the English language better since I've been talking to her. she is 'very gratitude' for what I have done for her and her dream is America and sing. I'll tell you the rest later. February 9: Dear Diary, Today we are on our way to America and Rosita's wish will be She will be allowed to 'seeng'g for as soon as we land we will begin rrly 'The Voice of an Angel' and Rosita will be the star, for you see I'm the H actor and singer, Mario Lanza. is diary e begin- , I can't 'de me. thralled er aunt. hat this his past le black- eek. I have leaving eems to She says to go to granted. movie, llywood Alice Youngf '60. OUR HONORED DEAD The sun was slowly sinking, peace reign'th over all, The woodsy vine was twining around the crumbled wall. Beyond, the graves of soldiers, the valiant, strong and true, Their pennants gaily waving of red, and white, and blue. Although we cannot realize the untold agony, l The suffering and the yearning they endured across the sea. Upon the bloody battlefields the Hame of hope not gone, Through days and nights of struggling, they still kept marching on, As now they lie, eternal peace surrounds each silent grave, Above, the proud and mighty flag looks down with prayer and praise. For us, they fought against the foe, to grant our country peace, Oh, may the souls of Honored Dead march on to never cease. Donna Andrews, '58. 2 2 l