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

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16 when the wind howls around the corner of the house and through the maple tree, driving the white flakes before it, there arises in me an innate longing, stronger than desire, for something in- tangible, unformed, and pent-up as yet. Wfhat it is I do not know. Perhaps years and experience will tell. Perhaps it will never be revealed, who knows? Maybe if this pent-up something is ever loosed, it will prove disappointing, distasteful, because environment, friends, tastes. interests. and, indeed, my whole life will have changed by that time. VVhether it enfolds a new inspiration for a career, or knowledge of some principles necessary to harmonious living with the human beings we call friends, I do not know. Nevertheless, that sort of sixth sense is there, and during every storm the usually dormant feel- ing which grows into vague restlessness stirs, wakes, and does not sleep again till its hunger has been appeased by the snow. the disturbing ele- ment. Then it is that I go out into the storm to be blown about at the wind's will. The raging wind seems to sympathize with me and its griefs and woes seem enough worse than mine to completely eclipse my petty cares. It screams at me tales of sorrow which in their awfulness make me forget my silly troubles. But that is the consolation that the storm can give me when I am inclined to be morbid and depressed. On the other hand, when I am happy because I have conquered or mastered something, the wind shouts with me, itself triumphant because it has bent a tree till it has cried out in pain and has finally surrendered. Then, I walk with my head in the air, with a melody in my heart, and with a song on my lips. XV hat does it matter that the snow is covering my throat and neck, that the frost is biting 1ny toes and fingertips? That is only com- parable to the many things which obstructed my way in acquiring my most cherished desire, Did I not overcome them? Now I can return home, happy, eager, jubilant, ready to tackle the still harder work that awaits me. I will succeed. Nothing can prevent me, now. The Blue f-r VVhite This is all well and good for a blizzard, but what of the times when the Hakes drift down softly? Once, in the late afternoon, I was hurry- ing home from school. Across the street lay the big, red-brick mill. One would think that there could be nothing beautiful in a scene which con- tained a warp mill, but all my life I will remember that picture. All over the ground lay the sparkling crystals, more precious than diamonds in the twilight. The fine particles were drifting down softly as if floating on wings of shiny gossamer. As each flake lit on the ground it whispered ever so softly to its neighbor. Through this, the lights of the mill, softened by the steam within on the window- panes, shone out, causing a miniature rainbow to radiate from each little Hake. The fall of the snow deadened the monotonous hum of the weary mill and I fancied that I heard the lazy drone of the bee and that these flashes of color were the refiection of the sun on glittering wings. Above all this was the sense of peace that per- vaded the atmosphere. All the rancor, harshness, and strife of the world seemed erased just be- cause the hard lines of a mill were softened by falling snow which seemed to bless the earth. As I stood there, those snowdrops caressed my cheek and lash too, and I went on my way, hoping that the next passer-by would feel the same way. So do you see how little it takes to create an impression upon my mind? Can you understand how storms affect me? If you can, you will know why I love snowstorms. M. C. K., '33. MORMONISM On a recent trip through the State of New York I had the fortune and privilege to visit the home of joseph Smith, founder of the Mormon religion. When I left this picturesque home, nestled among the rambling hills of far western New York, I had a far different idea and knowl- edge of a Mormon and his religion. In fact, my whole attitude was changed toward this cult. Be- fore my visit a Mormon was much the same to me as a Turk or a Mohammedan and I had all

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Westbrook High school is The occupant of the other car was somewhat stirred up also, and her temper was aroused as well for that car had just been delivered to her that morning as a gift from her husband, and to have a bent fender the first day was not very pleasing. Couldn't that man see straight? Couldn't he see the policeman's hand and hear his whistle? By now quite a crowd had gathered to witness the damage. A policeman made his way through the crowd. I tell you, officer, there ought to be a law against letting women drive. They can't see any farther than their noses. Fools! Their place is at home, not out riding. I tell you, officer, she's to blame. On and on Bill mumbled as he approached the object of this accident. Hey, why don't you--Heaven sakes! Jane- what are you doing here? All right, officer, this is my wife. I'll attend to it. Much to the amusement of the increasing crowd, Bill continued to mumble on and on, giv- ing ,lane only time to put in a word here and there. As they started to drive away, words of anger drifted back to the crowd. The war was on. So Bill and Jane went home but not to spend a quiet evening as he expected. 1 L. F. If., '33, CHOCORUA'S CURSE Once upon a time in the pleasant hills of North Conway, an Indian prophet and chieftain roamed through the forests with his young son. On one occasion he was obliged to go to Saint Francis, Canada, to consult his people. Believing this to be too long a trip for his boy, he left him with a settler living in a nearby county. This man was named Cornelius Campbell, and was a hardy hunter and an ambitious worker. The young Indian boy was happy in his life with the Campbells. He was interested in the hunting and in the home life of the family. It happened that Mr. Campbell had prepared some poison for a mischievous fox that had been troub- ling the settlement. This poison through some mischance was found and drunk by the boy. Chocorua, the boy's father, returned home and found his son dead. His mind was filled with un- reasoning hatred, and he plotted revenge on Cornelius Campbell. One morning, while Campbell was in the woods, Chocorua went to the hunter's home and brutally murdered his family, leaving evidences that showed only too plainly that an Indian had done the deed. A party was organized by the settlers to hunt down the Indian. After a long march, Chocorua was located on a high cliff, his retreat cut off. I-Ie had climbed the precipice to look for the return of his friends, who were away hunting. Mr. Campbell shouted to Chocorua to throw himself down into the deep abyss below. ' Chocorua, hearing his enemy's voice, replied calmly that the Great Spirit had given him' life, which he would not throw away at the command of the white man. Then raising his gun, Camp- bell told the Indian to hear this Great Spirit speak in the white man's thunder. So Chocorua fell, but in the falling pronounced a curse upon the white man: VVind and fire destroy your dwell- ings! Lightning blast your crops! The Evil Spir- it breathe death upon your cattlef' Uttering these inaudible curses, he sank. His bones they left to moulder in the sun. It is true, that his curse rested on the settle- ment. Tomahawk and knife were busy-winds tore up trees and blew down dwellings, crops were blasted, cattle died and sickness came to their strongest men. Finally the last remnant left the fatal spot to live in larger and more prosperous colonies. E. H. F., '33. A MOOD FOR EVERY SNOWSTORM It's queer how the snowstorms affect me. Each different kind creates a different mood. It has always been so and probably always will he so. Sometimes, when the snow comes tapping at my window, inviting, seeking a kindred soul,

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Westbrook High School ,fl Ml1AhlIlNl!E S1lUlIHl1lD1DllL 'DIP 1lEZ4lDlWlNllllEllQ'HIE Normal Training for Commercial Teaching Secretarial, Accounting, Business Administration for Business Careers Finishing Courses for High School Commercial Graduates College Grade Courses for Teaching and Business Portland School - 480 CONGRESS STREET - Opposite Chapman Building NORTHEASTERN BUSINESS COLLEGE Puente 1755 97 Danforth Street, Portland C aurser .' NORMAL, SECRETARIAL. STENOGRAPHIC BUSINESS ADMINISTRATION HARMON C. CROCKER LINOTYPE COMPOSITION Make Up ALSO ELROD AND LUDLOW PRODUCTS Thompson Caster 394 Fore Street QFoot of Exchange Streetj Portland, Maine ACCOUNTING Telephone, Forest 3980 l The When in town, visit Shaw Business College THE EVERETT LUNCH 5075 Congress Street Portland, Maine and have 009 Of its Com 1, J: Famous Hamburgers BUSINESS SHORTHAND ALWAYS THE BEST SECRETARIAL Delicious Coffee Courteous Service CATALOG ON REQUEST 49 Oak Street, Portland Compliments of JOHN C. NICHOLS South Windham HARRY RAEBURN COSTUMER Successor to BROWN - Costumer Costumes for Masquerades, Pageants, Minstrels and Theatricals DIRECTORS AND PRODUCERS OF SHOWS OF ALL KINDS 5425 Congress Street Portland, Maine