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

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A The Blue fr White 22 teaches me, yet I must admit that my America is enslaved by a few. So, as many others like myself are interested in the United States of mine, I ask: America, what is your destiny P R. F. ONE DROP - - VVell, I'l1 see you later. Okay, in school tomorrow. S'long- Good-bye. After bidding his friend, Ted Vfilliams, good-bye, Bill Steward bounded up the steps and into the house. ls that you, Bill? his mother asked. Yes, it's only me, Maw, said Bill. 'Tm going down cellar until supper time. He threw off his hat and coat and went down the cel- lar stairs. Bill was an amateur chemist of no little ability. He had his lab in the cellar, out of harm's way. There he put on a rubber apron and at the same time switched on the lights. A weird glow came from one corner of the cellar. He walked over and pressed another switch and a sharp, cracking voice issued from a corner of the bench, where a blue fire leaped and danced between two electrodes. He smiled a satisfied smile as he was pleased with the performance of this strange apparatus. Eagerly he moved over to another part of his long bench, where he began conducting an experiment which he had read in a science magazine. The article had stated that one should conduct the experiment in a fireproof place as the mixture was likely to explode if handled carelessly. This fact did not bother Bill in the least. He went right ahead with his work, confident that nothing would happen. lfVhen he had mixed half of the ingredients, he jumped back suddenly. Poof! A cloud of smoke and a tinkle of glass. It had exploded. VVhat an experiment! Then Bill gave way to anger. -?! 'D -??!-, he whispered. Before long, he cooled off and decided to try again. This time he was more cautious. He tried to be careful, but in doing so he made a slight error. He added the wrong substance. VVhen he had finished the mixture, he placed some of it in a beaker, which he placed on the edge of the bench. He lighted a match and tossed it into the mixture. Silence, no ex- plosion. Some explosive, if it didn't explode ! His experiment a failure, he decided to quit the laboratory until after supper. He went up the stairs and sat down at the table. During the course of the meal he was quiet and said little. After the meal was finished, he started down the stairs once more, this time accompanied by his mother's cat. He went over to the bench and picked up the beaker and absent-mindedly began to stir the contents. Carelessly he splashed some of the liquid onto the floor. The cat, who had been under the bench, saw the liquid dropping and investigated. A drop fell on her outstretched paw and then .... oblivion. The cat was dead. Bill, glancing down, pinched himself to see if he was awake. There was no doubt about itg the cat was dead. One drop of the liquid had the power to kill. Impossible, thought Bill, and yet it was true. Bill whistled softly in amazement. Then visions began to flash before him. Visions of power and money. Just think, he said, Master of the world, ruler of all mankind, Armed with this liquid I could do anything. He sat down and tried to think what he might do. Then suddenly he jumped up. Shivering and shaking with the thought of what he might have done with such a compound, he slowly and methodically poured it down the sink. f'There, that's gone. He breathed a sigh of relief. P T. C., '36, ONE-ACT PLAY OF AN ELOPEMENT fflpologies to S hakespeare j SETTING: Prospect Park West, outskirts of New York City. TIME: Present, 19355 Night, 7.45.

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Westbrook High School A ....... . I 1 - - i see her if she was able to have company. The teachers went to visit her often. It didn't make any difference who she was. But it is different here. I wonder why. I ask people, but they don't seem to know. New England people are different. That's all, I guess. They're so distant. If I try to join them-well, I just can't, that's all, I feel like an imposter. Is it me? No, other new students have told me the same thing. Students don't seem to mix here. They go in groups, and when these groups get together it seems as if they have hung up a no admit- tance sign. Maybe they don't feel that way. I wonder if they don't. It's probably just their way. I go to their socials, I join their clubs that are open to everyone, but I always feel like a visitor. They speak to me, yes, but then every- body speaks to a person. I wish I were back in my own high school, where I hated to miss school because I might have to miss being in the Dramatic Club plays. And even if it were a large school I had ever so many friends. There somebody came every night to get their lessons with me or go some place or make candy and dance. VVe always had a swell time together. It didn't make any difference who came. VVhen we had school dances, which we had almost once a week, everybody mixed, and danced, and had a Swell time. Oh, why can't these people be like that? NVhy must they be so distant and certain peo- ple make you feel like they're too good for you? VVhy? Oh, how I wish I could make everybody join together, like each other, and have parties where everybody comes and joins in the games and dancing. But here, what am I trying to do? Change these cold, seemingly heartless, distant people, who have been the same through generations, and will be for many more generations? I don't believe they could have a student mixer here because half would be sitting around the side lines, quiet and probably bored, not knowing what to do with themselves while the rest talk in a group, and a very select few dance. I'm so glad I was born and reared where people have such good times. If I had been born here, I would probably be the same. E. H. ToM GRAY: ONE OF MANY I am sad. Yes, indeed, I am sad. When youth should be for me the carefree, jovial and selfish period of my life, I sit by the radio listening to a three-men debate. And what connections have these debates with my sad- ness, you may ask? VVell! I'll confide in you. It may even relieve a little of my sorrow which is slowly strangling my youth. In school, they teach me to love my Amer- ica. I am constantly reminded of men such as Vllashington, Lincoln, McKinley, who con- tributed to their utmost to make their country the land of the free, the home of the peaceful, and the anti-chamber of the heavens. They labor, in classes, to teach me the phases of the constitution, which should lead my life to the betterment of myself and my fellow citizens. They- plead, in my courses, to instill in me prin- ciples of honesty, devotion, unselhshness with matters concerning my United States. I hear of respect for my president and his associates, notwithstanding the party to which they belong. Yet on the radio I get acquainted with facts of the day. I hear of Baruch, Mellon, Dupont, who have contributed to make their country the land of the slaves, the kingdom of the am- munition manufacturers, and the most vivid resemblance to hell ever depicted. I am told of proposed amendments to add to our Consti- tution, amendments destined to terrify and clishonor our generations to come. I am con- vinced by, facts and figures of the dishonest, heathen, and selfish policies of our plutocrats. Baruch appears to be the active president of these United States I love, while the one who should be has to give way to the wishes of a corrupt cabinet of politicians. These debates I hear may be exaggerated, but they sadden me. I want my America to be what the school

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VVestbrook High School A 'YAAHAQ' n 23 CHARACTERS ABRAHAM ROSENBERG, a rich and miserly Wall Street broker. ' ISABEL ROSENBERG, daughter of Abraham Ros- enberg, a spoiled and rattle-headed girl, very much in love with Richard Browning. RICHARD BROVVNING, a young architect in love with Isabel. JAMES, servant to the Rosenbergs. BILL SUTHERLAND, friend to Richard Brown- ing. BOB HARRISON, a friend to Richard. SCENE I Living Room of Rosenberg Apartment. Time, 1.45. N fEnter Jlffr. Rosenberg and James, his servant. I MR. ROSENBERG grappling his cane impatientlyj : Isabel, eh? Isabel, uh? James, I hope your new master Cardoza will prove to be as lenient with you as I have been. I-Iumphl I'm Sure he will not let you sleep and doze just when you feel like it. Eh! Isabel, are you upstairs? Isabel! JAMES: I-s-a-b-e-l! Oh, Isabel! MR. ROSENBERG: Shut up! Keep still, you ill- bred numbskull, who told you to call her? JAMES Cmecklyj : But I thought I was doing my master a kind act Ctimidlyj. I Isabel e1zters.j ISABEL: Father, did you call? MR. IQOSENBERGI Yes, I am invited to a ban- quet, Isabel, but I doubt if I will go. Mr. Car- doza means nothing to me. He's only asked me because he's hoping some favors. After the way l1e's used me, too, the rat! But I guess I will go. I may make some business contacts. I feel, Isabel, as though something would happen to- night. I had a bad dream last night. I-Iumphl lVell, I guess you'll begin to think your father is foolish, worrying his little daughter with all this rot. JAMES: I'm sure my master will enjoy the banquet and the beautiful ladies, for Mr. Car- doza does expect your presence at his banquet, Sir. ISABEL: Of course, Father, please go, I am sure you'll enjoy the banquet. MR. RQSENBERG: Eh? and what will my little daughter do all alone this evening? Of course, dear, you want your old father to have a good time. But, Isabel, don't bother your pretty head about that crazy Mardi Gras and the people making fools of themselves in the street tonight. Tell Cardoza I will come, James, and get the car ready. Isabel, lock up the doors and windows and read, sew, play the piano, but do not attend the Mardi Gras, where no Self-respecting girl would be seen. JAMES Cto Isabelj: I am sure, Isabel, if you will look out the window you'll see someone you'll like. MR. ROSENBERG: Eh? Eh? What did you say? ISABEL: I-Ie just said, Good-bye, Isabel. MR. ROSENBERG: Uh! He'd better not con- verse with you, Isabel. Good night, my lovely little daughter, I will not be late. ISAREL: Good-bye, Father. fasidej and if my plans do not fail, you will have lost your lovely little daughter by nine o'clock tonight. Uixit M if. Rosenbergj ISABEL: James, how did you happen to know of my plans tonight? ' JAMES: If my mistress will permit me to say it, I overheard your telephone conversation with Master Richard this afternoon. ISABEL: Well, just as well I suppose, for there's little that gets by your eyes and ears. JAMES: Yes, ma'am. I mean-no ma'am. Can I be of help to you in any way now before I leave for my new job? ISABEL: No, just tidy up the house a bit. I am going upstairs to get ready. Uixit Isabel. 2 JAMES: The foolish, foolish girl, instead of marrying one of her own religion as her father wants her to, She is making it very difficult and Sad for her poor, old father. Foolish, foolish girl fshakes headj. fExits.j SCENE II On lawn outside of Isabel's home. Time, 8.30. fEnter two friends of Richard B1'owning's.j BILL SUTHERLAND: Yes, this is the house all right, where Dick told us to wait for him. 4999 Prospect Park VVest.