Winthrop High School - Winthrop Winner Yearbook (Winthrop, ME)

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WINTHROP HIGH SCHOOL 15 or white sail in the distance and along the shore Where small wide docks are, with a sailboat or two beside them. Then before leaving to travel on to more foreign places of beauty and inter- est, take a breath of the cool balmy breeze, sigh and wish that you would never' have to leave. After your trip is over, and you are home, years and years may go by, but I am sure you would never forget Sunny Italy. Barbara French, '39 The Ship of '36 For four years the ship of the class of '36 has been on its way. Today, on April 21, 1936, it is nearing its destina- tion, Graduation Harbor. With good weather and fair winds, we shall make port in about seven weeks. It is true that there have been days, and may yet be days, when it will not all be smooth sailing, but I think we will find that things will invariably turn out for the good. We have all heard, no doubt, of the young man, who, upon receiving his diploma, shouted, Hurrah, I'm edu- cated! This seems to be the attitude taken by a good many students, but the true scholar will realize that receiving a diploma, whether it be high school or college, does not mark the end of his education. It is only the beginning. There is always more to be learned in the School of Experience. There is al- ways' knowledgel waiting for us just around the cornerg if we only keep our eyes and ears open to things going on around us. Some of us, I believe, have very def- inite plans. Others of us have plans that are but half-formulated. While still others of us have not the faintest idea of where we shall turn next. Some will seek higher education, while others will join the ranks of the employer and employee. , , I -Why not make our closingdays to- gether as happy as possible? Why not get along with as little friction as we can? Let each one of us do his level best to help provide the good weather and fair winds necessary to guide the ship of '36 safely into port. We can do it if we all pull together. Winthrop High School has treated us well. Let us make our lives worth- while so that she may be proud of us. And above all, wherever the passing years may find us, let us pray that we may be worthy of our beloved Alma Mater. Ida Edwards, '36 The Ethiopian Problem The Ethiopian problem is the most important event of the past six months. This is true because the interests of the world are endangered by the conflict. The world's peace and prosperity de- pend upon the sureness of the Kellogfr Treaty and the strength of the League of Nations. When the nations were figuring the cost of war, they found that it cost 525,000 to kill one man. What a huge sum of money is wasted in war when it is needed by the countries for the re- lief of their unemployed people and their public works! How easy it is to see why countries get into debt when they fight in war! The peace of the world depends part- ly upon the League, because if the League fails to prevent Italy from cap- turing Ethiopia, other nations will say that if the League cannot stop Italv it cannot stop other countries. and then they, too, may start attacking the weaker countries. Even now, Japan is planning an attack on Northern China and other countries near her. However, the League has accomplished one thinfr. It has persuaded Italy's allies to help prevent Italy from capturing Ethiopia. If Italy has no allies, where will she obtain the supplies she needs? Many pacts have been signed and af- terward broken, but there still are a few. Will these few be strong enough

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14 WINTHROP WINNER in character. Respect, one finds, isn't always friendship. Respect generally means looking up to a person, and it would be rather hard to meet that per- son on a mutual level. Friendships are not built on an inferiority complex. On the other hand, friends often help one to overcome one's own faults. La- Bryce explains this when he says: In friendship we . . . see those faults which may be prejudicial to our friends. After all, friendship doesn't need all these explanations, defenses, etc. Any person lucky enough to have experi- enced the depth of true friendship knows that it is too splendid to require a definition. Marjorie Collins, '37 Which College Which college is a statement heard everywhere. It's a very, difficult prob- lem to solve, but if given great thought and consideration it can be solved. Some people think that a degree is a degree of superiority. Some think it's a key to happiness. It is, for a few, but not for everyone. College is just an opportunity. It helps prepare one for his life work. If the life work you have chosen needs no college preparation, then it would be a waste of time going. There are boys and girls who are very sensitive. Therefore they should not choose a college with many import- ant fraternitiesg because if they were not asked to join they might be very unhappy, and they would spend four miserable years. Some boys and girls are too socially inclined. If this is the case a boy should be sent to a boys' col- lege and a girl should be sent to a girls' college. If they were mixed there would be altogether too many social meetings and not enough studying. If a person is shy he should be sent to a co-educational school where mixing with both sexes will rid one of shyness. A country person should be sent to a city college Where he can learn city methods. A city person should be sent to a country college that he may learn of the different methods of living. It will give them a broader View of life. In choosing the college, you should find out what the college can give you. As an example: If you Wish to be .a Physical Education teacher, you should not go to a school that excels in medi- cine. Go to a Physical Education School. In preparing for a college, find out the college requirements and take the subjects required. There are many ways in which to get to college. If your family is poor, that is not a good excuse for not going. There are many loan funds and there is also ample employnrent to be found. If you decide to go to college-Go! Don't let anything prevent you. Where there is a will, there's a way. Antoinette Dostie, '37 Italy At the present, if I should mention the country Italy, the very first thing that would come into your mind would be war, Let us picture Italy in our minds now, but let us banish the thought of war and picture some of the beautiful characteristics of Italy. What would be more pleasing than to ride along a winding road of a sunny ,moun- tainside in Southern Italy. A mountain- side covered with tall trees, shrubs, row upon row of vines burdened with lus- cious purple grapes, and a mountainside dotted with red tile roofs covering white stucco houses. Then what would be more pleasant than to stop by one of these quaintstucco houses, buy a small basket of grapes from an old man and pause for a moment to watch the bright sun-shining faces of men. women and children at work picking handful after handful of grapesand laying 'chemin large low baskets to be carried down the mountainside by girls miraculously bal- ancing the baskets on their heads. Ima- gine yourself pausing to gaze over the beautiful, blue .. Mediterranean which makes ayistriking background for 'a red

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16 WIINTHROP WINNER to hold back the surging emotions of nations? Will the Ethiopian-Italo war come to an end before it becomes a world war? No one can be sure. Ruth A. Knowlton, '39 Foreword During the recent vacation, which we enjoyed in March, about the time of the great flood disaster, I had the doubtful pleasure of being transported by boat across the strong currents of Cobbossee stream, because the bridge was expect- ed to go any minute, and my home hap- pened to be on the other side. A threat- ening, unfamiliar body of water, swol- len to twice its normal width, and per- haps ten times its normal current, the Cobbossee looked more like a river than a stream at the time. The bridge did go sometime during that night, and the next day we went down to take a look at the remains. I couldn't believe that I had ever taken a dive off the flimsy-looking structure that floated aimlessly around several hundred yards downstream. Several large boulders had failed to hold the bridge, and still lay forlornly on the raft-like platform, like the outcast souls of the Foreign Legion, or prisoners on their way to Devil's Island. That afternoon I paid a visit to the Deestrick Skule which I had attended during my last years in grammar school. Though familiar, the queer, double-seated desks looked and felt smaller and more scarred than ever, the portrait of George Washington seemed a little more austere. But of course it all brought back the usual memories of kid pranks, kid friends. Anyway it was the Hood itself, still so fresh in everybody's mind as a period of suspense and horror and catastrophe, and the quaint little one-room school- house which inspired my story. I dedi- cate it to them both. Flood Versus Romance It was March in the solitary school- house on the flat. Sylvia Marston's blue pencil hustled unerringly through the stack of scrawly arithmetic papers on her desk, then she tucked them into the top drawer. Looking up, she met the stern gaze of The Father of our Coun- try from the painting on the wall be- hind rows of tiny scarred desks, and her gray eyes sparkled. March-and nearly spring. Georgie! Springing up, she whirled across the floor in a twirling dance that would have shocked the smallest of her pupils. But school was out, the straggling last of her brood had already disappeared beyond the wood-crested slope, with a Hash of swinging lard dinner-pail. Sound was magnified in the empty, one- floorg a squirrel scolding just outside the window from the retreats of an old, tired oak, from the swamplands below the twittering of early spring birds- then the distant purr of a powerful mo- tor. Hearing, Sylvia turned' her back on the disapproving gaze of Georgie, pat- ted powder onto a pert nose, ran a comb through her red-gold bob, slipped into a new, dashing swagger coat, grabbed up her brief-case, fumbled for the key on its customary nail beside the water- pail, and was locking the Ucantanker- ous old door when a low, blue-gray roadster swung into the yard. Ahoyl called a cheerful masculine voice. Ahoy, Sir Galahad. Am I late again '? The name made her smile. He had insisted upon calling her that since she had insisted upon doing the heroic thing, coming out here in the country to teach so that she could take care of herself and sickly mother, without do- ing the easy thing by marrying him. Something proud and independent in Sylvia revolted against dependence, even upon Gary West. Driving down the rough road, sun- light did bewitching things to Sylvia's tawny locks, etched Gary's nice profile in gold. Sylvia, will you marry me? No, she said. He managed a fairly successful laugh.