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

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VVestbrook High School interior of the Miracle, as every Yale man knew and feared it, 4 Bridge Lamps 1 Phonograph 4 Fragile Shades 1 Desk Lamp 2 Heavy Suitcases 1 Small Chair 50 Voluminous Books 1 Derby Hat 1 Wooden Letter Chest 4 Pictures 12 Records 1 Saxophone I finally crawled in thru the left front window and bade farewell to the beautiful Yale Campus! Things progressed, we didn't travel so awfully fast, but still things progressed, until I had had breakfast in Hartford, when I en- joyed these happy little incidents intended, no doubt, to brighten the trip--lst, my brakes had to be taken up-2nd, I had a nice blowout -3rd, I had a nice blowout near Springfield- -lth, near Worcester I had a nice blowout- within twenty miles of Boston I had a nice blowout, and here left my watch as security for the necessary tire, since you don't pick up money as you do nails. Lastly, with all of these charming episodes, each and every one of the aforesaid articles of baggage came out, one by one, and slid back, one by one,-but not by themselves! I also found that I had two dandy electric horns, neither of which recognized my command, hence I was forced to whistle loudly to the traffic cops in the forty cities I glided thru. Now the Miracle, satis- fied for a while, crept along on all fours, dump- ing me Finally in Westlorook at 10.30 P.M., making a pleasant little jaunt of WM hours. Slightly better than walking iip, but still it's hard to decide. So we were home at last, but fate was against me, for the next morning in an effort to show the frankly amused neigh- bors a real car, I sallied forth, cranked her up, drove two feet and stopped-with another flat! I was now a member of the Ford-Owning Fraternity, I had had my initiation fthe trip homej, and I could swap experiences with other Ford owners. I was also becoming edu- cated, for before I had inherited this priceless gift I knew nothing of machinery. Now I knew that a four-cylinder engine frequently 19 runs on three and even two cylinders. I knew that a sputtering noise, several convulsive jerks and a flat refusal to go meant that my hand- some gasoline gauge from Grant's lied reck- lessly. I knew that when my lights flickered and my starter merely snickeredfl' my genera- tor had been having another bad spell-it often had fits. I, too, quickly learned that a noise like a twelve-inch gun was not Fort Wil- liams saluting the flag, but my front tire, which I later suspected of being bad. Al- though I had indulged that tire it persisted in letting me Cand the carj down! I knew that a steady banging, like a noisy 4th, was the nut on my exhaust pipe, loudly declaring its free- domg and that I was scheduled to reach for my wrench, take out the very clean floorboards and burn both hands on a sizzling pipe. This always happened on Friday night when a gang of us were headed for 01d Orchard. It was also impressed on me that if you attempted to crank it and forgot to set the emergency brake, it would run you down, and that a six- volt storage battery would shock tears out of you! To go on-after a summer of this torture, I was spinning along on a bright winter's day, mentally counting up the unlucky thirteen blowouts I had had, when I happened to step on the low, merely to press the lever y'know,1l2 when somehow something went wrong, for the darn thing instead of pounding as it normally did, began to whir, grind and gradually came to a dead stop. Well accustomed to walking now, I popped out and sauntered over to the Home for Crippled Fords for a tow. When we had eventually dragged it there I inno- cently inquired about the charge. As it hap- pened, it came to 75c. That may seem trivial to anyone outside the Fraternity, but to the already poor members it is a deathly sum. Naturally I reached deep into my pocket and, as usual, found it quite empty except for a small patch, the only thing that had dropped into it during the whole summer. This placed me in a difficult position, but feeling equal to 'kPoetry. TMore of that darn poetry.

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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

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20 E,,1 ,,5H The Blue 6- VVhite the occasion, I offered to give them the car I present moment I am again a happy fellow. in payment. I was convinced that I had been Even the loss of my membership in the Fra- very generous until they pointed out that I ternitydoesn't seem to pain. Nothing can, for would still owe them 50cl And even my beau- I have sold the Miracle, tricked it for once, tiful horn failed to pay that debt. and 32.98 ,nestles against the lonely patch in iThar's poetry, that pocket. Gosh ding it alll But that is ow er and done with, for at the XVILLIAM XYALLEE. THE ROBERTS STUDIO, Inc. PERSONALITY PORTRAITS SCHOOL PHOTOGRAPHERS SPECIAL PRICES AND STYLES FOR STUDENTS 115 HIGH STREET - - ' PORTLAND, MAINE Fraternity, College and Class ewelry COMMENCEMENT ANNOUNCEMENTS AND INVITATIONS Jeweler to the Junior Class of Westbrook High School L. G. BALFOUR COMPANY Manufacturing Jewelers and Stationers ATTLEBORO, MASS. ...ssgli am any csozzege greek