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

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Westbrook High School I I Evil, his evil .... What was that? His mother was reading: The wages of sin is Death. . . . The wages of sin . . . whose sin? His, joe's sin. . . . Somewhere within him something snapped 3 a feeling of calm possessed him. Involuntarily he murmured, God, be merciful to me, a sinner. A. H., '37, THE WASTEBASKET Within this dark and dismal tomb Lie hours of thought, Hours of meditation. Records of fleeting moments, sudden inspirations Painstakingly recorded, or jotted down at random. Some records- Once surrendered to a jury, Eagle-eyed and cynical as a gossip- Passed or failed To pass examination. Once o'kayed, Their goal was reached- Success! But these aren't those, These reached a different goal- The wastebasket, A tomb of worthlessness. A. P., '36. - ADVENTURES IN THE NORTH tNot far northj May I tell you a few of my adventures? Of course, I knew you wouldn't mind-very much. My adventures-not to brag, nay, far be it from me to boast or brag of the dangerous and perilous situations in which I have found myself from time to time-my adventures are the most exciting and interesting ones that a man can have and come out alive. Danger? Of course there is danger. But do men who have braved the storms of the seven seas and the blistering heat of the desert have fear? I should say not! Why, I remember the time when I was treed for three days and three nights by a family of ferocious field mice. Ah, I know you're laughing and calling me a coward, but you didn't see those field mice. In all my born days I have never seen such ferocious, blood- thirsty beasts. Their teeth were like sabers, their eyes like glowing coals in the darkness. '5 After being in that tree for three days I began to get hungry, so I looked for some way to kill the mice. I had no weapons except a small pen knife, but I had noticed that at night the tree that I was in glowed queerly. At last the thoughts I had been racking my brains for came to me. I was famed the world over as a naturalist as well as an explorer, and my wonderful knowledge now came to my rescue. The tree was a species known as amnoscelerinx, the bark of which is highly poisonous. I quickly cut several strips of the bark and chewed them into a juicy pulp g the remains I er-er-er-kept in my hat. After gathering a hatful of this potent brew-ah, there is one point I forgot to mention. I know you are wondering how I could masticate such a poison- ous mixture and not be affected by it myself. It so happened that although one drop of this poison will kill any rodent alive, a gallon of it will not harm a person. Well, after I deemed I had enough, I sprinkled it generously on the ground beneath me. The mice immediately gobbled the poison down. Within five minutes every mouse was lying flat on his back sleeping the sleep of all bad mice. I climbed out of the tree immediately, not a bit stiff or sore from my long sojourn, for I had kept up my daily exercises by swinging on the limbs Q a second Tarzanj. The mice were strewn so thickly on the ground that I could not find an open place to put my feet, so I gently slithered over the dead bodies to the outside of the ring. Of course, I was quite hungry after three days of fasting, but not any more so than if I had missed my break- fast that morning because in my career as a fa- mous teacher of physical culture I had learned to control the digestional organs of the stomach. However, I felt that I must eat something just to be conventional, and so I looked around. There was nothing but mice in sight-big mice, little mice, fat mice, mice with drooling jaws, brown mice, black mice, white mice, papa mice, baby mice. C If anyone reading this true account of my experiences can recite those last two lines without sounding as if he were eating a lemon, I will sign his name after it.j Well, now letis see. Oh, yes, there were all kinds of mice 5 so I decided that nothing could be x

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l4 The Blue fr VVhite THE SHADOW OF DEATH Quiet, isn't it, Joe? All except that dripping water. I wish that would stop-it's getting on my nerves .... I mustn't think of that, thoughg I might go crazy .... I'm so hungry, yet I've been here only forty-eight hours .... Forty-eight hours of horror. I never realized what it was to be alone . . . alone . . . with my own thoughts for companions. Here joe Carr stopped. His short, stubby hands slid over the wall beside which he was lying. It was cold, damp and clammy, so rough that it seemed to cut the palms of his hands. About two feet away, on the other side, lay an expanse of muddy water that joe had reached just as his last match had flickered out. Since then he had stayed here in the narrow passage- way. At first he had screamed frantically and had pounded the wall with his feet until he had been unable to stand. Soon he realized the futility of that and had decided to remain where he was. Drip, drip, drip! The water slowly falling from a giant stalactite seemed to be striking joe's very eardrums now. He wondered how old the stalactite was. He had had only a faint glimpse of it as he stumbled along with his last sputtering match. By rapid calculation Joe reckoned that it must be thousands of years old. 'What hideous scenes had it already witnessed? Had it ever watched other lost persons stagger and fall in this same awful passageway? So excited was joe that he iidgeted restlessly around. Suddenly his hand hit something cold and hard. Feeling it with trembling hands, he suddenly came to the horrid realization that it was a bone. A wild scream burst from his lips and joe, nearly fainting from horror, threw the thing as far from him as his ebbing strength would allow. When it landed a few feet out in the underground lake, the splash threw a light spray over joe's body. He felt the drops of water on his face and neckg his thoughts again wandered. It felt just like that when I slit Nell's throat that night, and the blood spurted all over me! Merciful God! She wasn't expecting any such thing as that from me, her brother. I wonder if they are still looking for me up there .... What- ever made me think of hiding from them in this cavern? I hadn't realized that it was big enough for me to get lost in .... Heh, heh, heh, I was too clever to stick around and wait for the cops to pick me up. I'd rather die than be caught. Rather die .... But not here! I mustn't die starving here . . . alone. Alone with the bones of another ...alone.... Although joe didn't realize it, his mind was becoming weakened by his loneliness. For the next twelve hours, joe Carr tried to sleep, but his mind kept going over his horrible crimes. Then he would think of the bone which he had found. He tried to make a story in his mind as to how the other man had died. Had he gone out slowly, or had he taken his own life? . . . Per- haps that was better. Suddenly his mind became obsessed with that one thought, dying. He could see in his mind's eye a party of sight-seers coming through the passageway and discovering his bones. They would never know his story! It was barely possible that someone would come along in time to save him. Unless such should be the case, there was no hope. His poor mind pon- dered over this thought until at last it seemed that he heard footsteps. He sprang up and stood listening for steps that did not come. Joe, realizing that he had been tricked by his own overwrought nerves, cried like a child. There was just one thing to do-wait until either someone came or he lost consciousness. W'hich death would he choose-the long, drawn- out torture that in the end would come, or should he jump into the lake beside him? He thought of water choking, stifling him in a hideous deathg it was too much, Joe knew that he could never take his own life. With the whimper of a lost child, he turned on his side and closed his eyes, convinced that he must wait . . . wait for a party that might not, and probably would not come .... Vague shapes passed before his line of vision 3 he could see him- self kneeling at hismother's side, it seemed that he could hear himself repeating slowly, falter- ingly, Yea, though I walk through the valley of Death I shall fear no evil. Ah, that was it.

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A I The Blue fr White '6 better than a good mouse stew. I skun fa local- ismj three of them quickly and roasted them in an oven I had learned to build when I was cap- tured by the terrible head-hunting savages of East Borneo. I have never eaten a meal that tasted better because with every mouthful I took, I said to myself, Chicken, nice chicken! What wonder- ful chicken you cook, Mrs. Bloom l After getting filled, I immediately set off to the nearest settlement, a hundred and two miles away. I arrived there that evening in the best of spirits and hastened to assure my comrades that I was safe once more, but they were not worried for this was not the first time I had disappeared for days at a time. Indeed not. Why, once I was caught in a terrible blizzard fifty miles from the North Pole. I was alone with my dogs and a sledge loaded with seven hundred pounds of food and a small tent. The blizzard began to blow late in the after- noong so I decided to pitch my tent and turn in for the night. I fed my dogs fifty pounds of frozen fish and chewed on a piece of jerky, then dived into my tent for a few hours' sleep. I knew it was going to be a bad night as the thermometer was already down to seventy below zero. I was awakened suddenly as a particularly strong gust of wind fit was blowing normally at ninety-eight miles an hourj took my tent off for a little joy ride. Well, there I was, left to brave the worst night in the arctic without even a tent to rest my weary bones in. I sat up to look the situa- tion over. What? Why, where were my dogs? Ah, yes, there was one. But where were the others? I knew. They had left me. They were far from being dogs anyway. Three-quarters of their blood was wolf and nobody but me could handle them. At last their wild instincts had got the better of their human training and they had gone, loping off into the night to a far worse life than living with men. It was a terrible predica- ment, but was I daunted? No, no, a thousand times no. How could a man of my caliber fear the mere elements when he has faced dangers a hundred times worse? I immediately made a pack of provisions and took my only dog and left for the North Pole. No, I didn't turn around and start for civilization as any ordinary man would have done. At fifty miles from the goal I had set out to attain, I could not turn back. I felt certain that my sturdy con- stitution and iron will power would see me through the worst storms. And I was right. The hardships were many and the dangers encountered were enough to make an ordinary man beg for mercy. On the second day out I saw a huge polar bear fishing through the ice. Beside his hole was a seal and a pile of fish. I needed those fish and was determined to get them. I stalked carefully up behind him intending to jump on his back and choke the life out of him, but as I stole closer and closer my foot slipped on a piece of ice and the bear jumped nimbly to his feet. We stood there staring at each other, waiting for the first charge to be made. I decided to let him make the attack. After an hour of outwaiting each other. the bear made the first move. He started to lunge toward me but he didn't move a step. His feet were frozen solid to the ice, so long had we stood there without moving a muscle. I roared out a hearty laugh because now I could have the fish without getting my furs bloody. But my joy was short- lived. My own feet were stuck fast: they had sunk into the ice up to my ankles. Have you ever seen anything quite so comical? VV ell, there was only one thing to do-my shoes must come off. I could wrap some sealskin around my feet and in that way make my way to the pole. I had only a quarter-mile to go, the pole was already in sight. I could see the top of it shining in the distance like a striped barber's pole CI've always wondered who put it therej. Of course, my feet would be more or less cold, but-what's a pair of cold feet to a man like me. Vtfhen I ar- rived at the pole, I hurriedly scratched my name on it and started my journey back home. It was only a couple of thousand miles to the nearest settlement and I expected to arrive there in a week. The only trouble I had on the way home was my dog's getting frozen feet. I had to carry him most of the way. Other than that it was a comparatively uninteresting tramp. I arrived safely home in just a week and a half. There bands played to my glory and autograph seekers by the thousands sought the one and only signature of that greatest adventurer and man of