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

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18 The Blue fr VVhite That troubled you, and make him lose his frown, If, when the pitcher's plate has been denied you, You can play fielder and let others shine, If, when that too is given to one beside you, You smilingly can join the rooter's lineg If you consider welfare for your high school Superior to your own ambitious goal, Can take deep pride in saying, That is my school, And in it put your mind and heart and soulg If you can hold no grudges, no hard feelings, And rise above all those that come your way, Be honest, fair and square in all your dealings And help your fellow students when you may, If you can study hard-be liked by teachers And still not be a wallflower at a ball, Can dance and play-enjov life in all features Yet strike a happy medium in ally If you can be athletic, strong and active, But not believe that brawn can outclass brain, Can make your personality attractive, Be witty-but not let your wit cause pain, If you're a student in our dear old high school And try improvements daily more and more, You'll find in this as in the rest of Life's schools, You'll win the best that it can hold in store. In future years all will respect who knew you, You'll win your classmate's confidence and trust And what is best, my friend, most precious to you Everyone will like you-for they must. THELMA WHALEN, '26. WHEN KREISLER PLAYED The music fioated from the vibrant strings As he lifted his bow and played. I listened with joy to the lovely tones That the fingers of Kreisler made. The sweet notes fiew fast from his flying bowg The Caprice Viennois charmed all. The violin nodded with rhythmic motion, A hushed silence filled the hall. A vision rose to my enchanted mind, The vision of a glorious dream, But it soon grew dim and faded away. He had finished the sparkling theme. GEORGE FREIDAY, JR., '26. A VIOLET A dainty little violet Grew beside a mossy stone, Near to a shady woodland path, In a kingdom all its own. The bright sun gave its warmth to it, The old oak gave its shade, And in the branches overhead The birds sweet music made. The west wind cooled the heated air, And at evening came the dew, And refreshed the little violet To begin each day anew. Not far away was the city With its bustle and unrest. But the little violet lived its life Close to Nature's breast. MARGARET L. Tncomz, A SUMMER DAY Only a point of weathered rock, A sandy beach below, With rows of white crowned breakers That swiftly come and go. A flock of sea gulls overhead, White clouds that lightly float, Against the blue of a summer sky, Is the sail of a passing boat. Little sandpeeps on the beach Dart quickly to and fro, Gathering food at the water's edge Where the lines of white foam show. Waving pine boughs overhead, A hammock beneath the trees, A wonderful place for day dreams, On summer days like these. What care we for the busy world With its hurrying to and fro- As we build anew our castles That we planned so long ago. '2 MARGARET L. Trrcomn, '26 THE SEA GULLS Oh gulls with the strong swift pinions That over the ocean glide, Watching for little fishes, That follow the coming tide, Do you never weary Of your life o'er, the rolling deep? Do you never wish for inland nooks As the watch o'er your nest you keep? When fierce storms rage And strong winds blow Do you long for some sheltered shore Where wild winds cannot reach you No matter how they roar? As he thinketh in his heart, so is he.-NEW TESTAMENT.

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Westbrook High School I lunnn I The ship has struck a derelict and in thirty minutes will go down, the captain shouted. The life boats were manned and the women and children were placed in them. Everywhere excitement reigned--only one kept steady-the operator. The SOS calls were rapidly sent Out. On deck, the passengers and crew had manned the lifeboats but what chance would they stand in such a sea unless another vessel came to their aid? The ship was fast settling into the waves when a distant whistle was faintly heard. At last a ship was nearing them. Meanwhile the operator continued to send out calls until the floor of the room was covered with water. Up the steps he staggered and then those in the lifeboats heard a terrible explosion and saw a black bulk sink into the sea. That was all. Two weeks later, the passengers who had been rescued by another vessel landed safely in Amer- ica and on the same day the lifeless body of a man with the ear attachments of a wireless set was found on the shore of Ireland. He died, a martyr, that other souls might live. HOWARD COTTON, '26, TO OUR TEACHERS Dear teachers here at Westbrook High We love you one and all, And we hope that nothing but good luck Will ever on you call. You've guided us through our school years, You've helped us every day, You've taught us of the ways of life, How could we go astray? In after years though far away Our thoughts will often yearn For our school days here at Westbrook High, Which will ne'er to us return. Mnkcanm' L. Tr-rconn, 19:26. THE TRIALS OF A STUDENT When I was but a Freshman The only thing in store Was to study just my darndest And be a Sophomore. When I in glory had attained The honor of that name Soft jobs usually end i I7 I had no rest at all until A junior I became. But now that I'm a junior I'm most sad enough to die, Because I've only one more year At dear old Westbrook High. ELIZABETH SHAW, '27. CRAMMING Cramming, cramming hopelessly, Yet I know no more. Guess I'll let the darn things go And be as dumb as e'er before. I say, not long ago in class I knew my lesson well, But someone else got all the praise, And I can never tell , How hopelessly at wrath was I And the time I had indeed, , Was enough to make a preacher mad And till his soul with greed. Now say, if cramming does not help And cheating does not harm, I'm going to be a mid-way champ just filled with magic charm. E. C. Shaw, '27, LIFE AT WESTBROOK HIGH Oh joyous days of sunshine, How swiftly they pass by, The happiest days of all my life Are here at Westbrook High. In classroom or in study hall, The excitement of a game, A victor or a loser, My spirit is the same. I wonder if in years to come, When I am old and grey, I'll look back on my school days With the joy I feel today. Through working days, Through troubles grave, When sorrow dlms the eye, I'1l open up in memory's page A dream of Westbrook High. EL1zAn1-:rn C. S1-nw, '27. AN IF FOR HIGH SCHOOL STUDENTS With apologies to Kipling If you can see your pals take all the honors And leave you in the lurch without renown, If you can help a fellow round the corners n hard luck.-Fonmzs.

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Westbrook High School In Wg! But no! the God who made you Implanted in your breast This love for the rolling billows, A rock crevice for a nest. A spirit he has given you Wild and fierce and strong, With plenty of courage and power To weather the mighty storm 5 And when the north wind whistles, And storms sweep sea and land God keeps you safe, His children, In the hollow of His hand. MARGARET L. Trrcomn, ' 26. THE CHILD OF THE WILLOW BROOK The child of the brook is a merry sprite, And she sings as she goes her way, Now floating in quiet shady nooks, Now dancing high in the spray. She laughs with the swaying branches, She sings like a happy bird, As she lifts her head to the sunshine, A sweet little song is heard. She plays with the little raindrops, The breezes blow her hair, And in all the world of the fairies None other is seen so fair. MARGARET L. TITCOMB THE CALL I was floating down the river In a little birch canoe, The sky was bright above me The water sparkling blue. When suddenly I heard in the distance The call of a bird to her mate, I should have hurried back to camp .'2 And then, as if in answer, A sad cry through the night, The little bird called but once again Then straightway made her Right. I tumed my birch bark toward shore And followed through the gloom And soon I fell upon them both In a field where blue grasses bloom. The dainty little blue bird Was sore afraid of me, But loath to leave her loved one, She sat there fearfully. The mate had been caught in a briar Just beneath a large fir tree, But swiftly I loosed its feathers And away he flew when free. As I hurried back through the forest I heard a faint melody, This time singing with deep pathos A message solely for me. ELIZABETH C. SHAW 27 TIME Ol Time! Time! Timel I would to call thee back. But on you fly And still I sigh To call thee back. O! Timel Time! Timel Thy minutes swiftly speed. I work and strain And try in vain To check thy speed. Ol Timel Time! Timel The hours are rushing by They gain a pace A breathless race And years go by. But something bade me wait. GEORGE FRI-:1nAY, JR., '26 Ofver RINES BRUTHERS GUMPANY of 50 Y 6117? Specializing In Women's and llhildren's Apparel and Ddyflfgfflf 131 Bu,-,ymy Accessories. lligli Grade Linens, Dependable Silks, Depmafagfe M Yard Goods, Laces and Draperies Department Pefffm' sil'5.'2IflZ?'sZ1'..fi'lf.'FI Piiiiid Store Thr first year.: of man must make provision for the las 19.