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

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Westbrook High School I7 NIGHT-MARE PROSE Ah, books! from you I must depart, All evening have I pored you o'er, To bed, to sleep, forget and rest From Shakespeare, Poe and Thomas Moore. tm At last to sleep, but troubled talk From restless sleep arose, And raving nearly all the night, He shrieked this night-mare prose. Oh, Captain-my Captain, our fearful trip is done, Our Ceasar's dead, and Pompey was killed by Shy- lock's gun. My hair is gray, but not with years. It always was before, Be still, sad heart, and cease repining: quoth the Raven, never more! Oh, better that her shattered hulk And those endearing charms- But listen my child and you shall hear- Come, patriots, up and to arms! They pledged their hearts, his love and he Under the spreading chestnut tree. But, give me liberty, or death, he swore. And silently rowed to the Charlestown shore. u Between the dark and the daylight He went as the waves doth Hy Beneath the bridge that arched the flood, Even as you and I. DOROTHY TUTTLE, '2S. MOTHEIPS LITTLE HELPER When Ma's on a committee at the church 'l'here's nothing done at home. She tells us all before she goes, Now get this in your dome! At eight o'clock the grocer comes, And I want soap and steak, And don't forget to order yeast, Because I've got to bake. Just take the mi'k up from the step And put it on the ice. Don't leave the cover off the bread, Because it draws in mice. Put coal upon the fire, Dee, And water on my fern. Your t'ather's dinner is on the stove, lfVatch out it doesn't burn. When Ma had gone, we tried to think Of all she said to do. The grocer comes, we order meat, Enough to make a stew. The milk we left out on the step Till Ma got home that night, And the cover on the bread-box, Well, I guess it don't fit tight. Dad's dinner was an awful mess, For everything was rare, And when we tried to stir the Ere There wasn't any there! When Ma came back and looked around, From tears her eyes did blink, When she saw the dirty dishes And the rust in her new sink. D. R. TUTTLE. ......i WINGS A leather-clad figure, a bird-like thing, A whirl of propeller, a Hash of wing, And soaring high in sea-blue sky Is the wonder that makes uswonder why There's no law of nature, of life, of land, But what can be changed with God's help by man. The marvel of nations, destroyers of men Who meet with defeat, but must try once again Until to some comes the last long flight Ending at last in the darkness of night, And those who are left at home to mourn, Curse the pitiless thing fore'er being bor11. But pioneers come and pioneers go To the west, to the south, to the north and the snow. Brave-fearless-First in their wonderful work They accomplish the things which all cowards would shirk, No matter what risk with their spirit so fine, They accomplish their task founding history for time. So long live the airplane, the symbol of flight, May it emerge at the dawn from its well-withstood night. ' May its pilots be honored, admired, respected, Let not for the danger its great work be rejected. Let it soar in the sky, let it light on the plain, Ready, eager, prepared to go up once again. And thus do we think of those marvellous wings, Those delicate, frail, strong, mysterious things, The destroyers, supporters, improvers of men, May improvement continue world without endg And now while to wings and their heroes we're nigh, Let's to Lindbergh and Spirit of St. Louis give a cry! i D. W. BLAIR.

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16 The .next day Lefebre again got in First from his trap line. Again he sat in front of the cabin and dreamed of what he would do with the money he would get for Dan's catch. He decided to head east and try to reach a Hud- son Bay Post where he could dispose of his booty. Bright and early next day the partners were up. getting ready for Dan's trip to Lassing. The dogs, full of vim after their long rest, fought and played so that it was almost im- them. At last the sledge as Dan shook hands with possible to hitch stood ready and Iiull he remarked, I guess I'll stay in Lassing am afraid we are going to until Sunday. I have a storm and I don't want to be caught in it. Then waving goodby he disappeared around a bend in the trail. Bull watched him out of sight and then, put- ting on his snowshoes and picking up his riHe he set out for the line. It was a beautiful day. Great forest giants rose on either side of the trail. Glistening snow, five feet deep. covered the world. Everything seemed to sparkle in the crisp, exhilarating air. At the first trap Bill found a splendid Arctic rabbit. At the second there was n o th i n g, at the third. nothing, but in the fourth there lay a fox. The skin was in its prime and was worth about 3375. So through the day he went from trap to trap. At some he was rewarded, at others there was nothing. That night, when he had eaten. Bull looked over his furs and sorted them. In all, there was about 32,000 worth. I-Iowever, since he could not take both his and Dan's. he decided to leave his own. He knew that IJan's catch had been much better than his own. He did not dare to take the best of both for it would cast suspicion on him if he entered the Post with only A-1 furs. The next day there was an oppressive feel- ing in the air. It was heavy and warm and felt like rain. As Bull picked up Dan's pack, lie noticed this and decided that by all means he must make Fort I.ury before nightfall. He I The Blue fr VVhite strapped on his shoes, picked up his pack and rifle and started east. All morning he pushed on through the silent forest, not even stopping for dinner. With that gait of the experienced woodsman which eats up the miles, he had covered about twenty-tive miles at noon and still had forty to go. About four o'clock in the afternoon. Lefebre came to the edge of a clear- ing about three miles wide. With all signs of a storm about to break, the hunter would have remained in the shelter of the forest until it had passed. Not so Lefebre. Driven bv a guilty conscience and greed, he determined to push on. He had got about half way across the opening when, without warning, that hor- ror of the north, a chinook, broke. In an in- stant the air was filled with snow particles. It had grown bitterlv cold at the same moment and it was impossible for man to stand against it. Bull realized the necessity for speed so he opened the pack to select the best fur. As he did so, a terrible oath escaped his lips. In frenzy, he tore at the bundle and hurled the contents in all directions. He seemed suddenly to lose his mind. Instinct forsook him and hurling his ride to one side he started to run into the storm. The gale had risen to unbe- lievable heights and it beat and tore at the man. Finally he stumbled and fell to his knees. Struggling up again he forced on and was again beaten down by the storm. At length he stumbled and did not rise. In terror, he could not control his muscles and he lay still. As the snow drifted up, a feeling of warmth and drowsiness overcame him. The storm passed and only a heap of snow marked the passing of Bull Lefebre. In the meantime. Dan was enjoying the warmth and good cheer at Lassing. As he gave a long pull on his pipe he turned to his host and said, You know, before I left home, I made a bundle of the burlap bags we took the supplies in. I left it where it could be seen so that if anyone entered while Bull was out, they would take it and not hunt my furs. They are safe under the woodshedf' Norzwoon IXIACDONALD, '28.

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l8 , The Blue E-r White LISTEN !--FROM ROBERTSON'S If your Ford won't climb Mitchell's Hill in high, Tank up with Good Gulf and you'd be surprised To note the change in the way she leaps Over hills, mountains, dales, or creeks. Gas and Oil, at Roberts0n's. We love to hear the leaves fall from the springs As long as Robertson's cash register rings, So it' your banged up Ford is sick with the gout, just call at Robbie's and you'll ride out VVith a Ford like new-from Robertson's. Sad to relate, our motto's quite rash: In God we trust, all others cashg But we're quite liberal to the half-way man To whom much more convenient is- The installment plan-at Robertsoifs. Iiut now my mind is vacant, my inspiration gone, And I'm gonna sing to you that quaint old song, Forgive Me, For ever attempting this-at Robertson's. ANoN Caliasb GUY V. SINCLAIR, '28. A LAKE FROM DUSK UNTIL DAWN Across the quiet lake from the dim recesses of the ancient hills steal dismal shadows. The dusky twilight falls, then evening with its gloom and darkness, night with all the splen- dor of brilliant, moonlit watersg early morning with its dying glory, and last the bursting splendor of the dawn. The beauty of the sunset has faded. The cold shadows of dusk creep over sky and lake, and somber clouds lay their gloomy reflections on the dark green waters. The evening deep- ening into night casts its murky blackness into the sullen waves. Suddenly, as if by enchant- ment, the dismal shadows flee one by one, and in the lake, now calm, rests a silver reflection of the waning moon. Here and there, where the ripples are not overspread with moonlight, are the reflections of fleecy clouds. Near the shore are the images of dark green Hrs, while looming above them are the gleaming peaks of the purple mountains. Slowly, as if by an unseen hand, the bril- liancy of this scene is swept away and the path qf moonlight, which spread across the lake, has now nearly disappeared. In its place is a faint glimmer of departing stars and the white ghost of a waning moon. Then the light grows dimmer, as if being extinguished. It fades visibly, leaving a dark. cold mirror, which impresses one only by its cheerless, black depth. At last from the east comes a faint glow of the breaking day. The lake turns to a gray brown with a touch of yellow and dull rose. The water reflects dark gray clouds which look as if they were concealing a smoldering fire, then, suddenly, ' almost momentarily, these clouds separate. The sun bursts into a blaze of red. reflecting from rock to rock. The lake glows from the rocks and from the tinted sky, as though it were atlameg as if, mysteriously, it had been dyed to a crimson hue. WHAT CAUSES THAT? Cats and dogs live to ripe old ages with their wits and bodies in splendid shape, but sad to relatefl' Fords are not affected that way. Not hardly-for it is generally known that Fords, like the good, soon shake away worldly cares falso nuts, bolts, fenders, etcj and depart from this sordid sphere. At any rate-it was while I was last in New Haven to see my very honorable brother fthe gifted member of the familyj graduate, that he slyly broached the idea of my guiding home the mass of wreckage he was willing to believe was a car. Necessarily home, since the city authorities had ordered all rubbish off from the streets. I, of course, was quite elated at the prospect of a pleasant drive home and a car for my personal use-one which he said nobody would ever steal from me, because of a lock wheel, an ignition key numbered 59, and the last I didn't quite hear, but I understood him to say that the car had been used to frighten ugly dogs from the classrooms at Yale. Anyway, after an enjoyable stay in 740 Harkness Hall, about 5 A.M. on a cool .Tune morning, the Campus Cop and I succeeded in squeezing into the luxuriously decorated