Westbrook High School - Blue and White Yearbook (Westbrook, ME)

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mba i8Iue ant white 25 mans were approaching the capital. The French government had fled to Bordeaux, and the people were follow- ing the example of their officials. Servants had deserted their masters and fled, and now the masters them- selves were in flight. Out of the South Gate on the Bor- deaux Road, sped a royal motor car, a monster of the highway. Upon its panelled doors was the inscription 'Bergeracf The people on foot scut- tled like frightened geese to the sides of the road to let the car pass, for the French, though in theory they are democratic, have a fine sense of rev- erence for the old aristocratic names with which the history of France is so intimately bound., And what name resounds more loudly than Bergerac? It was an 'Open, Sesame' to the road. In the car was Jeanne de Bergerac, daughter of the noble Frenchman and his wealthy American wife. She was fleeing from the dread disaster which theatened the capital of the nation. To the south of France, almost on the edge of the Mediteranian, was the family chateau. Thither where the flowers bloomed and the war was not, Jeanne was going. Mile after mile, along the smooth road, the chauffeur guided the car, along a route lined with the fleeing multitude of the city. Suddenly a drop of rain struck the windshield, then another another, soon the glass was bleared and the road was growing slippery, but the driver dared not lower the speed. Once the car swerved on a little incline at the side and then righted itself and shot on through the fast increasing downpour. They had long passed all refugees on foot, and for almost an hour they had passed no car. Then suddenly there was a frightful swing to one side, fol- lowed by a crash, above which rang a womanls piercing scream. When Jeanne de Bergerac came out of the merciful unconsciousness into which the shock had thrown her, she found herself lying at the side of the road, clear of a black heap that had once been her luxurious car. She called her chauffeur. Silence every- Where. Not a soul was in sight. The man must have thought her dead, and gone on alone on foot. Jeanne, the pampered and petted daughter of an aristocrat was as forsaken as the poor- est beggar. She wept out of sheer despair. But common sense soon came to her aid. She rose stiflly to her feet. It was fortunate that she had not been badly hurt, for she, too, must make her way on foot. Her steps were eager at first, but they soon become slow and painful, as she was not used to walking. Wearily she trudged along seeking a cafe where she might rest and eat. At last she found one, but she was ap- palled to discover that she was with- out money. Her purse was in the car. To the Madame, who had taken her order, Jeanne told her story. But she refusedto believe it. So many people Without money appealed to her that if she listened to their tales of woe she would become bankrupt. Mon Dieu! what did people think? She could not work for charity-the government must take care of the poor. There was a hospital a short distance away. Jeanne could go there if she really had no money. Jeanne again ready to weep from hunger, fatigue, and terror, made her weary Way to the hospital and asked for food. But there was no food for idlers or wayfarers without means. If she could cook-yes. Could she cook?

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24 Ghz Blue sub white he shouted, a car is behind. Turn at the next corner. The driver turned his head an instant and Eve- lyne, in her excitement, caught his arm. The wheel twisted and the car lurched. What happened next, Daddy was unable to say. When he regained consciousness, happily he felt no pain and was soon able to rise. Looking about him he saw, lying on one side, the car, a broken heap. One of its lights was still burning, and the bright glare showed the still form of his only child. Daughter, he murmured, bend- ing over her, are you hurt?', At the sound of the familiar voice, Eve- lyne stirred and slowly opened her eyes. Then she sat up with the cry of Daddy! Yes, dear, the fond father said, I know all about it. Beg pardon, sir, came an anxious voice from behind, is she hurt? Oh, Jack, cried Evelyne, it was Daddy all the time. I thought it was-. Are you Fred Emery's son? in- terrupted Daddy, as the light fell upon the pale face of the young lover. Yes, sir, I--. Well, well! Why didn't you say so before? While Daddy seemedlost in thought, his daughter put her arm through his and took the young man's hand. It was so romantic, she began, you know you and mother ran-. There, there, child, that will do, interposed Daddy hastily. As he spoke a car swept around the curve almost upon them. Two men sprangout and ran toward them. One they recognized at once as the con- stable. The identity of the other was soon apparent when he snapped out, Well, young man, you thought you'd put one over on me by running off in the night and getting mar--. Wait, Fred, wait! interceded Daddy. How's that? Are you in it, too? broke in Mr. Emery, the elder. It's my daughter he's going to marry, explained Evelyne's father. Well, I'll be-. Daddy laughed. Say, Fred, doesn't this remind you of old times? 'Member when you and I headed for the par- son's that night? Guess I do! was the prompt re- ply. And if it hadn't been for your dad-. Come, shall we give 'em our bless- ing, Fred? What do you say? Oh, Daddy, exclaimed Evelyne, You're a perfect dear l And we'll give 'em a joy ride, too, promised Mr. Emery. Hereupon the constable confronted Daddy with the charge: Yer the man that pulled a gun on me. Yes, and here's the gun, replied Daddy, holding up to view his silver spectacle case. ALICE PLUMMER, '17 . A REFUGEE. The Germans are coming! The Germans are coming! On every hand rang the cry. Thousands upon thousands of frenzied people rushed through the streets of Paris, uttering their fears in high pitched voices. All was. confusion. Women young and old, men aged and crippled, mo- tor vehicles, horses and wagons,--all were pouring through the streets in a jumbled throng, with faces set to- ward the gates that opeded to the south. From the north, reports had come that the French had been de- feated. The dread hosts of the Ger-

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26 T mba Blue ante white Scrub? Nurse? Sew? Anything that she could do would bring her bread. Sew? That was a word that brought a ray of hope in her dark hour. Yes, she could sew. Happily her American mother had retained enough of the spirit of her practical American home to teach Jeanne how to use the needle. How she blessed her mother for taking such pains with her sewing. It may come handy some dayj' her mother had laughingly said. Now it was Jeanne's friend in need. .She was taken into the hospital and given food and shelter. Now day by day she busily plies her needle, making things that are needed in the hospital and at the front. Sometimes, as she lifts her eyes to the blue sky beyond the hills, does she yearn for the chateau by the sea? A momentary longing may pos- sess her thoughts, but her heart is so thoroughly in her work that she feels no unrest nor counts her task a bur- den. Out of her trouble has been born a new woman, fully consecrated to her country's service. ' LAWRENCE H. PLAISTED, '18. ALL FOR A TINY STONE. Down deep in the bowels of Mother Earth long centuries ago, lay a great lake of seething carbon. Thousands of years passed. Then great evolu- tions shook and rent this old planet until Mother Earth was forced to yield up her marvelous treasure. The greatmass of boiling liquid thus thrown to the surface, flowed into every cran- ney of the rocks and in the course of ages become crystallized, and lay in its mountain bed, a shapeless mass of sparkling glory. When man came upon the earth he slowly but surely set about to dis- cover naturels mysterious and beauti- ful secrets, this all in the interest of civilization. And so it came about that a little tribe of Indians chose one of these mountain lands for a camping ground. These children of nature were happy and content, feeling that the Great Spirit had willed that this country should be theirs for always. Their chief, although an old, old man, was still loved and respected by his braves. His only living relative was a little granddaughter, the pride and joy of her grandsire's heart, and the darling of the tribe. One day as little Laoh walked by the side of the river, a bright, gleam- ing stone attracted her attention. She bent and picked it up to examine it more closely. How brilliant it Was! It almost seemed to be on fire. Where could it have come from? With the jewel in her hand she ran swiftly back to her grandsire's Wigwam. Oh, Enni Enni see what I've found I Laoh shouted joyously to her grandfather as she sprung madly into the Wigwam. Her grandfather turned slowly and with a great show of dignity but with- out the least sign of curiosity regard- ing the find. However, at the sight of his adorable granddaughter, his grim countenance softened into one of his rare smiles, for the expectant, childish face was a truly beautiful spectacle. Well? he grunted. But see Enni, it is a pretty stone which seems to be on fire. Isn't it wonderful? Ugh, ejaculated the impassive chieftain. Enni, I want some more of them, was the next imperious decisions. There must be some more in the