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

 - Class of 1933

Page 22 of 84

 

Westbrook High School - Blue and White Yearbook (Westbrook, ME) online collection, 1933 Edition, Page 22 of 84
Page 22 of 84



Westbrook High School - Blue and White Yearbook (Westbrook, ME) online collection, 1933 Edition, Page 21
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Page 22 text:

I A4 ' The Blue fr VVhite 20 CROOKED PASTURES As the dimming hush crept over the valley of the river Maas and evening covered the little village, which nestled close under the eaves of the mountains, Hergva watched the faint, Hicker- ing lights below and the people, dimly outlined, hurrying about to their tasks. Soon the village would be blotted from sight and he, Hergva, must spend a restless night on the mountain. But in the morning he could travel down to the tiny village and seek his mother, his small brothers, and his beloved Cria. Ah, what a pleas- ant thought was Cria. Hergva could picture her as he had seen her last, but alas, that had been five years ago. And oh, good Hergva, what changes can take place in five years! His thought wandered back to Cria. Does she love me now, or has she forgotten me P During the sleepless night Hergva formed a plan. I will change my appearance and my manner. He smiled and slapped the trunk of a great tree. Then we shall see. XV hen the early rays of the August sun began to glitter through the mountain trees and tlirushes, and orioles flittered from the wild mignonette to the scarlet poppy, dipping their bills in the dew drops, Hergva sat on a mossy ledge, munching his loaf of brown bread and some hard, cold beans, which he carried in his pocket. He watched the village, far below, as the sun picked out each white cottage with its green thatched roof. The sun, searching longer, found new houses which Hergva had never seen and patches of flowers sparkling with dew. Long did Hergva sit silently enrapt by the green fields dotted with clumps of wild roses climbing over huge boulders and up steep ledges, where timid orchids hid in the shadows of tum- bling fences. Only when the cows were brought to the stony pasture, did Hergva move. He combed his hair back over his head and rubbed the oil of crushed acorns on his face and hands. Then he started down over the mountain. The way was rocky and crooked and the trees had grown so thick that Hergva nearly lost his way. Suddenly he came upon the little, well-worn, dusty path up which Cria had driven her goats to pasture many times. Hergva stopped and gazed about: then with a sigh of relief he started on the path and came at last to the village edge. He was stared at by both the children and the elders for he was a droll figure. His face was very brown and oily and his hair stood away from his head. He carried his coat on his arm and a pack on his back. He walked slowly through the streets for it was hot and he was tired. Finally a bustling housewife came rushing out into the street and grabbed a chubby boy by the ear. She was about to return to the house when she spied Hergva. He recognized her at once as his mother and he started forward, but remembering the role he was to play, he paused and looked about him. You seem tired, my lad. Come in and have a bowl of soup. The woman took him by the arm and led him into the kitchen. She placed a steaming bowl of pea soup and some corn bread before Hergva: then she drew up a stool and sat down near the traveler. I welcome every stranger who comes to the valley of Maas because I think that someone might have chanced to see my boy. He looked like you somewhat, only his skin was much lighter. The sun has been very hot, said Hergva. My boy has been across the mountains five years, continued his mother. Five years is a longtime, said Hergva. I knew a boy who came from this village. He called himself Hergva, It is he: it is he, cried the mother, catching Hergva's face in her hands and kissing him vig- orously. Oh, my boy! Sigurd! Rulph! Come. She stood in the doorway waving her arms. Two tall, lanky boys came running to her. He knows of Hergva, she cried to her young sons, pointing to the young man bent over the bowl of soup. Tell us of him. VVell, replied Hergva, smiling broadly, he is a handsome lad and is doing great duties for the king.

Page 21 text:

Westbrook High School Qs I9 He wants good authors! replied O'Rouke. Probationary Officer john O'Neil paced his beat. His jaws were firmly set. Each street lamp saw him pause and greet his new shiny shield. He wished his friends could all see him. A quiet beat, a dark night, but he was happy. Yet a shadow hung over him. He recalled the words of his superior: Look out, O'Neil. The commish' judges by his reports. Make yours fancy. Some- where a clock chimed two. Then in the big house on the corner he heard another sound-the crisp, tingling, bell-like tinkle of glass! Funny, he mused, no one's home there. For a few moments he considered his problem. N ow could it be goldfish ?i' he asked himself. Mebbe, he's rich. He'd have goldfish. Yep, guess it was goldfish. He stood gazing doubtfuily at the great house. Suddenly, he saw a light Hash brieliy behind the shutters of the first floor windows. Nope, he remarked, I guess it ain't goldfish. Guess l'd better look into it. His clumsy feet stamped along the pavement and swiftly carried him up the front steps. He peered through a crack in the shutter and beheld two men working in lamp light, on a wall safe. They were ponderous men with blue-black jowls. Tools spread out beside them included. O'Neil noticed, a 45 caliber revolver. John remembered the training school lectures on The science of apprehension of a night marauderf' but he also remembered his untimely naps. The instructor had said, Notify the headquar- ters, send for help, scout the situation. O'Neil tried to remember. He couldn't. Une large un- gainly paw slid to his hip pocket. He gave a low grunt of dismay! No gun there! He remembered --it was at home on his pillow 5 he had placed it there so that he wouldn't forget it. Suddenly his stomach felt empty. He peeped inside again. The men had the safe open now and were taking out jewels and papers. O'Neil filled his great lungs in one breath and quickly hurled his one hundred ninety-five pounds of flesh over the porch rail and plunged head first through the window. There was a splintering of glass and he rolled into the room like a great ball, blue for the most part, but red where the glass had cut his face. The men leaped back. One snatched up the re- volver and pointed its long snout straight at O'Neil. He could see it now in the faint light of the street lamp. He leaped to his feet. Move and I'll drill you!', the man barked. O'Neil moved. He plunged at the man with the gun. The gun barked! O'Neil's left arm felt full of hot needles, then numb. He drove his head hard against the man's chin and they went down in a huddle. The second man came into the fray and a heavy chisel cracked down on O'Neil's head. O'Neil's right hand grasped the man's throat: and, though his left was useless, his legs grasped the chisel wielder and tloored him. The light went on. One burglar struggled to get his gun into ac- tion, the other twisted and struggled that he might jab or club with his chisel. But O'Neil's grips, with arms and legs, did not lessen. Then he felt the man under him go limp. He wrenched around and his ponderous list shot out. Eight inches it proceeded, then abruptly it stopped- on his opponent's jaw. It was over. Probationary Oliicer O'Neil slowly pulled him- self to his feet. Laboriously and painfully, for his wounded arm hurt terribly now, he tied the two men together with his belt. He had forgot- ten his handcuffs. Then he sat down on his two prisonersg fum- bled in his pockets: got out his official notebook, moistened the point of his pencil stub: and, by the dark lantern's light, began to write. For the first time he groaned audibly, but not because of his Wound. His face was wrinkled in agonized concentration. He wrote things, erased themg wrote more and erased more. It was slow going with one hand. Early, gray dawn had come be- fore he had finished his literary labors. They found Probationary Officer O'Neil un- conscious from loss of blood, sprawled across two equally unconscious prisoners. His hand still gripped his notebook. There they read in his own childish writing: Seen berglers, arested same. H. M. L., '3?.



Page 23 text:

Nhfembrook hhgh School For the king? Great duties ? whispered the mother. Yes, assented Hergva, and he grinned sheepishly behind his big ladle of soup. And he talks of one named Cria. Of Cria ? questioned a voice from beside the fireplace. As he glanced toward the chimney, Cria stepped forth from its shadows. Oh, I forgot, said the mother, jumping up. This is Cria of whom you speak. Tell me more of my Hergvaf' insisted Cria excitedly. 'il thought he had forgotten. Cria watched Hergva closely as he talked and smiled. She noticed the very brown face and wondered. She looked at his brown hands and 21 the paler wrists and knew. Hergva glanced at Cria and found her eyes fixed on his wristsg then guiltily he drew down his sleeve and turned to the mother. I think that I shall be on my way. But I shall return and bring Hergvaf' said he, rising. After many good-byes Hergva left the village with a happy heart and when he came to the river Maas, which runs through the crooked pastures, he turned into the grove on the river bank and knelt on a rock at the edge of the stream. I shall return with Hergvaf' he cried. and un- aware of a maiden's seeing eyes, he washed away the acorn oil on his face and combed his hair. Then sitting on a high rock he laughed so loud that the echo rang back from the opposite bank. 'illum N Ewa 'isigilgsl g e- A D0 YOU REMEMBER: The debate in which Frances Knight's team completely destroyed their opponents' hope of vic- tory for the opposing team? The looks of the Sophomore class when our star debaters did their best before them? The surprise of the school when we saw Clark Gable come i11to the schoolhouse? Oh! my mis- take, it was Tewks Tewksbury in a turtle-neck. The challenges of Billy Athas to the upper- classmen in the Curtis Publishing Contest? As you know, great things come in small packages. lNe are for you, Billy , in a big way. The walking Ye Cosmetic Shoppe alias Frances Golden? Evidently Franc believes in the old proverb: Save the surface and you save all. That Massive Chaplin believes in nourish- ment proved his eating peanuts in Mrs. VVinton's class? We ordain that thou shalt be called Pea- nut as well as Massive hereafter. The appearance of Ottalie Wlhippie without her Grecian bandeau encircling her hair? Tsh! Tsh! what is this world coming to? W'hen those light blue jackets with large shiny brass tor are they gold ?j buttons worn only by the members of Alpha Sigma Sorority and dark blue jackets of Delta Phi Sorority made their first appearance? That Frances Knight represented our class in the assembly play Believe It or Not and in the Public Speaking Contest? That Tewks Tewksbury and Dicky Libby are second and third Rembrandts? T. H., '36,

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