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Page 27 text:
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Westbrook High School Compliments of Compliments of SAUNDERS BROS. Harry D. Brooks MdNufkCfUf6fJ M Dawflr MANUFACTURERS, AGENT Tel, 409 48 Exchange St., Portland, Maine PO RTLAND'S Compliments of BEST NEWSPAPERS E'U67ZI?7g' Express J. E. GOOLD CO. Sunday Tefegmw Federal Street, Portland Read Them for the News of Westbrook Presumpscot Electric Company Distributors of Hydro-Electric Power l 895 MAIN STREET WESTBROOK, MAINE Rffiabff ' o. G. K. ROBINSON Confmcfor amz' Buzfder Exterior and Interior House Finish, Door and Window Frames Clapboard Siding, Pine Sheathing, Cabinet Work Telephone 391 MILL AND OFFICE, 14 FITCH STREET, WESTBROOK, MAINE
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Page 26 text:
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24 stopped short in horror, one front wheel partly over the edge of the cliff. A false move, even the shifting of her body, and she would be sent hurling thru space to her death below on the crags and rocks. For a moment she hung there, suspended half way between Heaven and earth, then. her brain nearly paralyzed by fear, she mechanically reversed her engine and slowly, slowly backed back to safety. How she ever completed that perilous trip she never could remember, but at'last she found herself incoherently pouring out her story to Mrs. Bartlett, who telephoned to Northford, her message sending a great number of men to fight forest fire. the greatest enemy of all farm- ers and ranchers. After resting an hour to quiet her shaken nerves. Marjorie started back home, but not by the Range Road. Reaching home, she found the place deserted. Hastily flinging a shovel and pick into the car, she started for the Timber. Night had lowered. and altho several miles away she could see the long tongues of flame shooting into the air, and the dull red haze coloring the skv. Driving her car into the forest, she alighted and, guided by the shouts of the men, who were digging a wide trench to stop the devastating Hames, she rushed to the spot to lend her aid. She found her mother already there, hurriedly carrying water from a small spring to the blackened and choking. Marjorie joined her and together they rushed back and forth with water through the roaring flames. The fire was eating its way nearer, despite the most desperate efforts of the men. The smoke became so dense that it was diffi- cult to see, and Marjorie, returning from the spring, a pail of water in each hand, became confused and wandered deeper into the flames, instead of away from them. She soon real- ized her mistake, but was unable to find her way back. Dipping the light sweater that she wore into the pail of water, she tied it about her head to keep from suffocating, and then struggled on. She stumbled and fell, and attempting to rise, gave a low moan of pain as her right leg doubled under her. Beating the ground in a frenzy with her clenched hands, The Blue and White she tried to crawl, but it was no use, she could not. She must lie there and suffer death by the flames, after escaping from death far gentler than the one which was before her. Glancing up into the sky, she gazed horrified for she was directly in the path of a giant tree which was about to fall, its branches a glow- ing skeleton of red. It cracked and snapped and slowly began to settle as Marjorie closed her eyes in a faint-and a tall straight figure dashed out of the smoke towards her. XN'hen she again opened her eyes she was amazed to find herself in a wheel-chair on the sunny porch of her home. Her head and hands were bound in bandages and pained dully. VVhile she was trying to comprehend all this, her father came from the house, accompanied by a young man. Seeing Marjorie's wide blue eyes, her father rushed to her, his face full of joy. Marjorie, he exclaimed, you are better. Do you know me. dear? Of course I know you, indignantly an- swered his daughter, why shouldn't I know my own father? But, tell me, how long have T been here? Is the fire out? NVho's this young man with you P He'p! laughingly responded her father, overjoyed to see her better, one at a time. This young man, he said, growing grave, is Neal Deane, who pulled you from under that tree nearer dead than alive. He has been ap- pointed forester for this part of the State and had just arrived in Northford when we learned of the fire. He is going to stay with us for awhile. Marjorie looked up into two steady blue eyes set in a brown, tanned face, as Deane came forward and took her hand. I have a lot to thank you for, she said in a low voice, your arrival was very timely. Don't let your gratitude keep you awake nights, Miss Daring, he returned, jokingly. But tell me the rest, demanded Marjorie, turning to her father. VVell, . he answered, the rain came, as it nearly always comes to end a severe drought, heavily, and lots of it. The fire was out by the next morning, and laltho it seemed fierce
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Page 28 text:
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26 enough while it lasted, it really did but small damage. But undoubtedly the timber would have been destroyed had it not been for your braveness in sending the alarm. We brought you home, he continued, unconscious, and for two weeks you have lain in a stupor. We were afraid your reason had been affected by all that you had been through. But my ear ? questioned Marjorie. Your car was destroyed in the fire, he answered, but, never mind, as he saw her disappointed look, I've ordered another one for you and one for myself, and, yes, had a telephone installed, too. Mrs. Bartlett told me all about your ride over the Range and had anything happened to you I would have always blamed myself. My idea was foolish and old-fashioned and nearly cost you your life. Now we'd better go and let you rest. Your mother is in Northford, but as soon as she returns I will send her to you. After they had gone, Marjorie leaned back among her pillows, weak, but happy. ' VVell, she said with a grin, I won the auto war, anyway l Then a musing look crept into her eyes. Neal Deane, she announced, softly, I'm go- ing to like you! . ERNEsr1NE HANN.A, '25. THE FORTUNATE MEETING The street was poorly lighted, and the shad- ows made grotesque shapes along the way. The houses were old and dilapidated, and everywhere in the streets was rubbish and uncleanliness. One small house at the ex- treme end of the street was in the worst con- dition, but something about it made an ob- server notice that in spite of its ruined state it was clean: the windows even had curtains and one or two plants. XValking along under the dim lights with a weary step was a young girl of perhaps twenty summers. She was slender and gracefully built. Upon closer observation one would see that her hair was raven black and her eyes- tired eyes--were of a dark color which brought out more clearly the whiteness of the face. VVhen she approached the last house she The Blue and VVhite turned in at the path and, drawing from her pocket a key, unlocked the door. There were three rooms in the interior, small-but tidy. The furniture was cheap and scarce, the Hoors bare, and walls without pic- tures. After entering, she began to prepare supper. Angelina Regini had now lived in America ten years. Seven years ago her father had died, her mother. following a month later. The severe winters had been too much for these people born in Sunny Italy. Angelina had been bewildered after her loss, but, rallying herself, she went to work making the things she had been taught to: baskets, paper flowers and lace work. These she sold in the large stores for a small amount barely sufficient to pay for food and rent. Each evening she re- turned as we have seen her, after delivering the work she had spent the day in making. VVhile at the store to-day she had been spoken to by a kind lady when the manager had refused in his office to accept her work. The lady had smiled and bought all herself, and had given a piece of her mind to the man-- ager, who only laughed and, taking her by the arm, went out with her. Angelina couldn't forget the pretty, doll-like face of the lady, with its wealth of golden hair and the deep blue eyes that had snapped so angrily in her behalf. She was the kind of American she liked, but there were not many. The otherslooked down upon her. A Week went by, and Angelina went through her daily routine. One day while she was busily working to finish a particular piece, a footstep sounded on the walk and a gentle rap was heard. VVondering who it might be, she opened the door and beheld the kind lady. At last I have found the house: you can't imagine how exciting a time I have had-what a beautiful basket you have in your hand! That is worth a great deal. Now, to get to the point. I must have you make some ar- ticles for me for a party I am planning. Angelina was so surprised she couldn't speak at first, but, regaining her self-compos- ure, asked her caller in. Drawing forth a chair, she invited the lady to sit down.
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