Williams High School - Messalonskee Ripple Yearbook (Oakland, ME)

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MEssALoNsKI-:E RIPPLE 13 SWEET SALLY She wasn't at all like the others and she did love music. I played the cornet for her many an evening. Once in awhile she'd sing to me, although it wasn't a very ro- mantic song, but that did'nt matter to either of us. Sometimes she was very sentimental and when I'd play a new, popular song she'd set up a howl until I played I Love You Truly. She'd sit down at my feet and listen with adoration in her eyes. Most of the fellows said it was silly for me to spend so much time with her, but we grew up together, under the same roof, she and I. Ever since I can remember, she had always been there when I needed her com- fort and companionship. She even used to tag me fishing when I told her to stay home - - - not that I really minded or didn't want her, but she was such a little thing and I was afraid she might get hurt on the barb- ed wire fences or scratched by the black-- berry bushes. Every night I used to take her for a walk. She was the most beautiful thing I ever saw. She had curly hair, big brown eyes, and a firm chin. She was so gentle and kind that I couldn't resist her charms, and I loved her from the first moment that I saw her. I was only eight when Daddy told me that she was coming over to live with us because her parents had died. Mama was excited over her, for now while I was at school, she would have company. The spring that all the girls were wear- ing those dog collars I bought her one. She looked so much better in it than anyone else did, and I could tell she was pleased with it by the way she looked at me. The time she got hit by a car nearly broke my heart. When the doctor said it was doubtful if she'd ever recover, our house was like a big box with a dark cloud hanging over it. Mama and Daddy worried, and I did too. What if they had sort oi adopted her, hadn't I helped take care of her? She meant more to me than life it- self, but then parents do have feelings about things,I suppose. While she was recovering from the accident, I used to wheel her in a cart around the yard, and it gave me great satisfaction to know that I was looking after her. Yesterday, when I went home, there was a big black car in front of the house. 1 rushed up the steps and into the living room. Mother was crying and Daddy was there from the oflice. I knew what had happened. Our little Sally had caught a bad cold, and the doctor said it had de- veloped into pneumonia. As I stroked her head, the tears streamed down my face. During the night she died and things just haven't been the same since. There is more truth than poetry in the saying, A man's best friend is his dog. GORDON WATTS '45 PIG TAILS TO G. l.. CUT Depressing, at times, isn't it, this thing called growing up ? Is it really worth all the time and effort we put into it to sort of speed it along? Sometimes I wonder! It all commences when you realize that all-day suckers no longer hold any great treat in store for you. The sticky mess that follows the sweet delight given your taste buds, only causes you humiliation as your mother shames you to no end. It isn't fun any more either to win all of Bill's marbles, no reason in particular, ex- cept you'd rather help Dad polish the car and hear him promise to teach you to drive, in just a few years, son . Mary, the kid next door, suddenly seems

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14 MESSALONSKEE RIPPLE to branch out in all directions, losing her skinny legs and crop of freckles, blooming into a sweet young thing . When she smiles at you, without that silver brace on her teeth, you just feel as though you could never throw spit balls or put tacks in her seat again! You'd rather walk home with her and carry those ten-ton history, geo- graphy, and English books. Maybe, if your allowance will stand up under it, you can buy her a soda at the drugstore. Meanwhile, Mary discovers that she is becoming very feminine and needs to spend her spare time before bed, slinging every- thing from oatmeal to plaster of paris on her newly found peaches and cream com- plexion. Her hair is receiving one hundred strokes nightly with a brush, that is, until she developed that cramp in her elbow and now Mother simply has to do it or it will look like an old dish rag in the morning . Those super jam sessions at Mike's Bean- ery begin to appeal to you along with such famous stars as Jan Vohnson and Srank Finatra. The Plight of the Egg Nog , Let Me Hold Your Ball of Yarn, Baby, and Don't Forget to Leave the Key Under the Welcome Mat, Mable rate first on your own personal hit parade. Suddenly you wake up to the fact that it is just as easy to keep your eyes open after twelve as it is until ten, so why retire early. Thus you begin your BREAK-DOWN WEAR-OUT career as a night hawk, until the folks lock the front door on you once or twice. Finally, maybe, you start to wear your hair in an up-do and just a little more make up, or you have a G. I. cut and start to shave, two combinations definitely turning toward manhood and womanhood. What more could one ask for than to be trans- formed from a scrawny, ugly duckling into a demure young lady, or feel that brush- like bristle on one's chin and find that you are out of short pants forever? About this time, a young man's fancy turns to love. Love with Cupid, his bow and arrow, and the whole works! Love with the companionship of the weaker sex. What a delightful couple! The wonderful magic of growing up comes but once in a lifetime, so make the most of it. Steer your ship toward your home port, take on a load of happiness, and then sail safely on to your twenties. RUTH DAVIS '45 THIS THING CALLED A HEART Without a heart our body would be of no use to us, but, of course, if we were mech- anized we could get along without it. Sometimes it appears to me as though a certain few of us have no heart. For in- stance, the time that Suzie Parker refused a date with Miles Standish, the Seven- teenth, simply because he had buck teeth. All the next week poor Miles was deeply hurt and solumnly decla1'ed that Miss Suzie Parker of Cherry Avenue did not possess a heart. Once in a while you discover a person with a heart out of the ordinary, like Mr. Steele, who refusedto let the mortgage on Widow Palmer's house stand just a few days longer, instead, he had her kicked out in the street, bag and baggage. Everyone cursed Mr. Steele and his cold heart. Then there are the people with just the opposite type. Mrs. Lovely, who lives in the big white house on Cranberry Street, is al- ways willing to help anyone that she possibly can. To date, she has helped put James Johnson, Katie Monahan, and Marvin Daley through college and just for the promise of each to get passing grades in History, which was her favorite subject in school, Everyone endears Mrs. Lovely, the