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

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E I The Blue E-r White 14 his Northern friends - all before dinner. How good that delayed dinner tasted. Nearly every Friday afternoon I devote to the answering of what mail I have received. VVhy must one be so formal in accepting an invitation? I told Eddie during Christmas vacation I could go to that 'Wfinter Carnival. Miss Anna Verrill accepts with pleasure the kind invitation .... VV'hat hokuml It took me nearly the whole afternoon to write a proper -acceptance. Then I started to write the southbound let- ter. VVhat penmanship! I always start out well, but as my letter grows longer and as I think of more things that have happened-I must write them quickly or I shall forget- my writing becomes worse and worse. I con- soled my conscience by thinking he was lucky to get a long letter, and I guessed that he could spare a few minutes of his time from social activities to translate it if he wanted to. I had an even more drastic thirty minutes trying to think of something to Write to my Brunswick friend. Since the traveling was so uncertain, I couldn't attend the Junior Prom. Mail employs thousands of people in our post olhces, in our streets, and in the rural dis- tricts. After all, those pleasures otherwise in- volved are helping somebody somewhere and that is a satisfaction. A. V., '36. AT THE PHOTOGRAPHERS I have just had my picture taken. VVhen one is good-looking, he must have his picture taken often. I have mine taken every ten years or so. An old aunt of mine who has rheumatism and - three thousand dollars - wanted my picture to hang in her bedroom. She's such a sweet aunt! So I put on my new suit, the one I bought at the fire sale two years ago. It's a tritle too large for me now, but I expect to be a little stouter some day. I had my new shoes on, too. I mustn't forget to tell you about the new tie I sported for the occasion. It was a tie I re- ceived at Christmas from my beloved. To have your picture taken is an easy mat- ter, but to have the right photographer is another story. In the towns where there is but one photographer, the choice is simple. VVhen you live in a big city where there are two photographers, then comes the difficulty. To make a long story short, I left home with my new suit, my shoes, and the tie I received from my beloved. Oh! I adore my beloved. If she does not marry another boy, or if she does not remain single, she will become my wife as soon as my aunt-without the three thousand dollars- leaves for a better World. I entered the studio and came face to face with an old man. He had long white hair, which, I believed, he had not combed since the day he was born. Do you take pictures of people? I asked him. Yes, sir, answered he, if you will be kind enough to sit down in this chair. I-Iere's a man who talks Well, I thought. I'd have to use some snappy expressions my- self. I came to this photographer, says I, to be photographed, so I could have a photo- graph of myself. The old 'man made me sit down in another chair. I waited while he was getting his cam- era adjusted. I felt radiant. There are days when you believe you look better than others. That day I felt superb. If only my beloved could have seen me then. Do my shoes show enough? I asked. He assured me that I was an example of perfect appearance. Then hurry, said I, I am get- ting tired of this pose, it pains my neck. The old man disappeared under a black cloth. I could see only his hands caressing the sides of the camera. - VVatch for the little bird, said he, one, two, three .... Cric, crac, it was all over. I didn't see any little bird. I think he wanted to have a good laugh. I paid him fifty cents and waited about half an hour. Then he gave me my picture. I looked at it.

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Westbrook High School 'b 'A 'B Lloyd, which informed us that breakfast was ready at last. W'e rushed to the table. The sight and smell of the food did not quite appeal to us, although we felt capable of eating anything. Lloyd proudly brought on the cereal and dished it out. He had mixed up some evaporated milk and water to put on the cereal, but he had made it so Weak that I could see the bottom of my pie plate through a half-inch of the mix- ture. I didn't notice this, however, until I had taken my first bite. I thought I would pass out, but I managed to gulp it down after several attempts, although I was uncertain then as to whether it would stay down or not. He had leftout the salt and burnt the cereal and, as if that were not enough, he had put the Hour in when the water was cold. which left large lumps of dry wheat to be bitten into. After I had masticated several of these lumps, I managed to dump the remainder, when Lloyd wasn't looking, into a hole in the ground, which I had dug with my heel. After having noticed that the plates of Thomas and Ernest were still full, I began telling how good it was, thinking that I could make them feel more miserable. I had no more than spoken the first sentence, when Lloyd jumped up and filled mine so full that it was running over the sides. I felt like kicking myself, but I could only grin and pray. I had to eat most of this because they had become suspicious and were watching me. My stomach had hardly finished rolling when he brought on the pancakes. But this time I had become cautious and took only a small one, whereas usually I would have grabbed for the largest. I placed it in my plate and poured some of the syrup, which he had made, on it. After the first bite, which was ten times as bad as the first of the cereal, I knew that I would certainly pass out if I ate it, for the pancake was about an inch thick and had been burnt on the outside, while the inside was just the raw dough, which ran out into my plate as I cut into it. The syrup had been made in an old frying-pan coated with rust. As he hadn't bothered to wipe it out, the boiling syrup had scalded most of it off into the syrup, giving it the flavor of sweet chemicals. As I sat there, swallowing to keep what I had already eaten down and playing with the pancake in my plate, some sort of modernized electric train passed on a nearby track. The others turned to watch it and I immediately, seeing my op- portunity, jammed thenpancake into an empty box and threw it as far as possible. You can bet that I didn't tell how good the pan- cakes were. I then tried to get the taste out of my mouth by drinking some coffee, but it was so strong and thick that one could easily mistake it for insect spray. That was the climax, and so with a mur- mured apology, I walked around the car and let nature take its course. And so may I, as one who has had the trying experience, warn you again. Beware of amateur cooks. L. D., '35. CORRESPONDENCE The most exciting of all the events that fill my day is the receiving of mail. The most dis- liked of these events is the answering of mail. Be it a library notice, a school catalogue, the regular weekly letter from the girl friend I met at camp, or the delayed letter with the out-of-town postmark-they all bring me, after hurrying home from school, at least the satisfaction that I am one individual person and somebody, somewhere, spent three cents for me. I am always a little disappointed to find that the person I had been thinking about all the way home from school hasn't written me, but when that letter does finally come, it is always twice as interesting as I have expected it to be. Once there were several letters bearing my name on the mantel. VVhat great fun it was to receive a prep school invitation to the winter carnival, to be invited to a Brunswick High Junior Prom, to hear all about how the social season is just getting under way in the South but how he wishes he were still up here with

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VVestbrook High School 1 N 'QQ' W 15 That isn't my picture, said I. To be sure it's yours, said he. No. said I, this resembles more a monster than myself. Do you know what he told me? He told me, If you want to have a picture of yourself that looks good, send a friend to have his picture taken for you. It is the last time I shall have my photo- graph taken at the photographers A. F., '36, WHAT SHALL WE READ? This is a very important question when one realizes that reading is a tremendous influence on the planning and ambitions of an indi- vidual's life. VVe see this fact illustrated in the history of various nations. The people of India read extensively, but because their read- ing is practically worthless as far as material is concerned, they are a backward nation. They also have become introverts because they have confined themselves to the writings of their own countrymen instead of the works of other countries. On the other hand, our own coun- try is the most modern in the world because of its advanced reading. Reading is also a factor in molding an indi- vidual's life. It may be for good or for bad. Of course, this is centered around the nature of the books read. An example of good in- fluence is found in the reading of our president. He pays little attention to fiction, but confines himself almost entirely to biographies and books that identify him with his own historical past. He makes this part of his library the arsenal from which to arm himself for the inevitable encounters of the future. Another example of this is the theologian, jonathan Edwards. As a boy, he read books which were gradually to fit him for his life- work-the ministry. Abraham Lincoln with his few books, namely, Pilgrim's Progress and the Bible, was molded for his later life and works. Books also influence for the bad, however, allowing the reader to live vicariously in an unwholesome atmosphere, many times furnish- ing unhealthful ideas. Although books of travel and Hction are good for anyone ordinarily, many young people in reading questionable literature of escape, which describes the lives of notorious characters, may be influenced into attempting to mimic them. So much for the infiuence that reading has on a person. Now let us consider. VVhat shall we read? Reading may, to a great extent, be likened to a physical diet. VVe do not think of living en- tirely on light foods, instead we are forced to resort to foods with more strengthening value such as meats and vegetables. It is the same way in reading. VVe must he as particular in our intellectual diet as in the physical. The mind must be developed in growth through our reading and unless our intellccts are developed we hafvc utterly failed in our purposes for reading. Of course as young people, perhaps falthough not necessarilyj, we will assimilate books of a lighter nature. It can't be expected that we read philosophy or Einstein's Theory, but as we get older and our minds likewise develop, we will be able to read more difficult books. It is to be feared that the reason many fail to grow in intellect is that they read books which are of no value. They confine themselves to a certain class of fiction-true stories, love stories, western tales, or detective mysteries - which stunt their growth. XVe might wonder if books of this nature may not have influenced John Dillinger, and Pretty Boy Floyd. Books of entertaining value are not all that we needg instead, it is necessary that we read something hard once in a while, something substantial that will challenge thought. A good reader is an artist. Wlhen we realize the advantages of reading, in acquainting our- selves with the travels over the earth, the biog- raphies of men past and present, the findings of men of knowledge, the discoveries of mod- ern science, the various arts, and so many other things that could be named, we shall realize that there are vast opportunities in the field of reading. We can stand on the moun- tains, look out over the plain, and find endless lands to explore. R. B., '35.