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

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24 WINTHRO P WINNER to the big cemetery where they climbed over the iron gate. I watched them go among the grave stonesf' Here jerry paused and shuddered. Mrs. Cruncher: Go on jerry. Pretty soon they hauled up some- thing from the ground and it was a coffin. He again paused and shuddered. And then I -I turned and ran and -and the thing chased me down the streetfl . Here Jerry completely broke down with fright. Mrs. Cruncher comforted him: Bosh Jerry. That was just your imagina- tion getting the best of you. But Jerry was still unconvinced. I tell you it chased me, I saw it. Mrs. Cruncher: lVell drop the mat- ter entirely Jerry, Pause of a fewseconds. 6' XVhen your father comes home don't let on you know anything about his honest trade. I think it would be better that way. Jerry: Yes, mother, perhaps it woul d. Floyd Smith, '40 Torment The wind is howling, howling, howling Right outside my cottage door, .-Xnd the water's pounding, pounding, pounding Klercilessly upon the shore. M y heart is beating, beating, beating Noisely within my breast .Xnd I am crying, crying, crying For a soul that knows no rest. Neala yvhimey, was Freshman's Idea of Blank Verse Roses are red, Violets are blue, Marigolds are' yellow Lilies are white. Town Gossip Around the stovev in the small town's general store was gathered an unusual array of characters discussing heatedly the never failing topic, politics. The air was filled with the aroma of tobacco. Directly behind the large, dilapidated Round Gak sits no one other than the personage known as Tom, assistant tire chief, on the now empty cranberry crate. Tom, an old bach, who lived in the local inn, is short and stout and dressed in sawdust laden khaki pants, gray Han- nel shirt with a blue bandanna handker- chief knotted about his neck. Beneath kind, friendly eyes rests a gray, neatly trimmed moustache while in the corner of his mouth is found that never failing cigar. Tall of stature and thin, Sam is seen leaning against the candy show- case expounding one of the stories from his never exhaustible supply about his ex- periences as a garageman to his adven- tures at Forty-Mile. He is wearing the regular woodsman costume, heavy red plaid shirt, dark pants with high leather top, laced boots and a two-days growth of whiskers encircles his lean, ruddy face. Beside him tipped back against the medi- cine counter in a small chair of many colors left recently by a paint salesman is jim, the rupted now tomer who the banana storekeeper, and then by requires his box sit two who is inter- some late cus- attention. On youngsters ab- sorbing all that is said by their elders. The night was still young and many others young and old would soon appear to listen and add to the general conversa- tion. But promptly at nine the assembly must disperse and the store be locked up for the night. Florence Stinchlield, 38

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XVINTHROP HIGH SCHOOL 22 Mr. Cruncher: Well--I calculate to, son, if things go right. Young Jerry: What thing for in- stance P Mr. Cruncher: Well son, things, just things. Silence for a few minutes in which gurgling soup is emphasized. Young Jerry: Gian I go too pa P Mr. Cruncher: Go where? Young Jerry: Go .fishing of course. Mr. Cruncher: I should say not. You aren't old enough yet. Young Jerry: May I when I get older pa PM Mr. Cruncher: Perhaps, I'll see when the time comesf, Silence of a few more seconds. f Young Jerry: Are you going to bring any fish home tonight pa P Mr. Cruncher getting red: May- haps yes, and mayhaps noli' Young jerry: Were they biting good last night PM Mr. Cruncher rises in wrath: I can't be bothered by your infernal ques- tions any more. Mrs. Cruncher gets up and takes the dishes from the table. Mr. Cruncher goes to a chair and takes off his shoes. Young jerry yawns and goes to his bed and reclines there. SCENE II It is late at night: all are asleep but Jerry and his father. Mr. Cruncher rises from his bed and draws on his boots. This done he goes to the cupboard and brings forth a handful of crackers which he eats with a loud crunching noise. This done he crosses the room tripping over a chair as he does so. He mutters some- thing under his breath and goes to a closet bringing forth a coil of rope, a spade, an iron bar, and a few odds and ends. Young Jerry peers quietly up over a tattered blanket and says: Going fishing pa PU Mr. Cruncher jumps as if shot, strik- ing his head on the closet door. He rubs his head and mutters angrily- Yes, I amf' Young Jerry: Your fishing tackle is kind of rusty isn't it P Mr. Cruncher: You keep quiet. I don't want to Wake your mother up. Young jerry: Why not Pl' VVith this Mr. Cruncher leaves the house in a great rage. Young jerry slips quietly out of bed fully dressed and leaves the house after his father. SCENE III In the early hours of the morning Young Jerry returns -to his home again. I-Ie bursts into the house waking his mother up. Mrs. Cruncher sleepily: Why Jerry where have you been at this time of nightP Jerry with chattering teeth: And he chased me, he chased me, I saw him, he flopped over the big iron fence and chased me through the country. Mrs. Cruncher looking around for something to bar the door with: Jerry stop that whining and tell me what hap- pened. i Jerry: It chased me-it-- Mrs. Cruncher interrupting: What chased you P Jerry: The coffin. It followed me all the way home. Mrs. Cruncher cuffed Jerry and said: Now Jerry if you donlt tell me what happened Illl give you the licking that you deserve. . Jerry somewhat calmed began: VV ell ma it was like this. I wanted to know what kind of an honest trade Pa was at nights. So, I decided to investigate. Tonight I stayed awake and waited for Pa to go on his honest expedition. About one o'clock or such, I heard Pa get up and get his fishing tackle and go out. After he left, I got up and went after him but I was careful not to let him see me. Down the road a-piece, he was joined by two other fishermen who also carried fishing rodsf' I followed them

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XVINTI-IROP HIGH SCHOOL 'J Brave Little Peter Once upon a time there was a family who lived in a little red house on the top of a hill. There was Mamma and Papa Rabbit and their four children Topsy, Mopsy, Pussy, and Peter, Now Topsy, Mopsy, and Pussy were all sisters so Peter was the only son. He was a good little boy and liked to help his father. One very cold morning Papa Rabbit woke up and found there was no wood left and the house was cold. Pretty soon Mama Rabbit got out of bed and started to get some breakfast. She hunted through all the cupboards but alas, she could hnd nothing to eat. The children were up now and now the sisters were crying because they were cold and hungry. Now, the store was way, way, way down in the valley and Papa Rabbit could not go down to buy any wood or food because he had a broken leg which pained him very much. VVell, Peter instead of crying walked straight up to his Papa and said, as he stood straight and tall, I'll go down to the store if you wish. So Peter started off with his mothers big basket under his left arm, his fathers big, warm coat tucked around his little body and T opsyis little, red mittens on his furry hands. Mamma Rabbit was afraid to let little Peter go all alone in in the dark, dark woods to the store. But Peter said, I'm not afraid to go. I will not let my family starve. And away he ran down, down the big, steep hill till Papa Rabbit could see him no longer. His little sisters watched through the window while big drops of water streamed down their hungry faces. Do not cryfl said their mother, H Peter will soon be back with some nice red carrotsfl Now, wasn't Peter a brave son? Margaret Jones, ,38 Books as Magic Carpets ,Xfter a busy day spent in traveling from one noisy place to another, tending to my daily tasks, it is restful to return in the evening to my quiet, pleasant, old- fashioned library' with its good,,wlell- used books and a bright fire. I know of no greater joy than that. My books carry me to far off lands, from Alaska to New Zealand. Every page is an introduction to some new people or race. Their customs, habits, costumes and occupations are disclosed to me. I get acquainted personally with their musicians, statesmen, painters and writers. I Often times I stop in the midst of my reading and ponder over the things I have been studying, and imagine myself in those distant, far-away countries. Now I am in Holland wandering among fields of tulips, now I am visiting the Eskimos. NVhy, now I am riding on an elephants back in India. Tomorrow night I may be back in our own hemisphere and our own United States traveling in California, visiting the movie actors in Hollywood. XV ho knows what the next day will bring? It's ever so much more fun to travel over the globe my way, while sitting at home in an easy chair before a roaringfire than journeying on a dusty, dirty train for hours to unknown destinations. I Travel is by no means the only thing to be derived from books. Knowledge about any subject can be found in them. Some people have the idea that any book is dull and uninteresting reading but it is far from that. Books can be your most valued possession and your life-long com- panions if you will only let them be. VVhy not get as much enjoyment out of life as you can? Buy or borrow a book C not a dime-novell and spend one eve- ning at home reading. This one evening of enjoyment is sure to lead to many others in your lifetime. Florence . Stinchfield, '38