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

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IH VVINTHROP WINNER Brown Jacket Brown jacket opened his eyes to a world of green grass and sunshine. Life was opening like a book for himg a life, unfortunately of hardships and few joys, for Brown jacket was a small, spindly- legged fawn. His home was in the deep woods of Maine, but not far enough from the guns of men to be called safe. In the summer, when he wasn't hunted by men, his life was made miserable by wolves, wildcats and other carnivorous animals. The first few weeks of his existence were perhaps the happiest that he was to experience. He soon grew out of the suckling stage and began to feed on grass and tender buds. Une day as he was daintily nibbling on some succulent boughs beside his mother, a shot rang out. VVith the shot his mother went to her knees but quickly re- covered and with a strangled whimper kept on. Another shot spit the quiet of the forest but mother and fawn were by that time in a dense thicket and the shot took no toll of either beast. They ran for about two miles although the mother was making hard work of the last mile. Sud- denly she again fell down and this time did not get up but lay coughing her life away while Brown jacket looked on with a mixture of fear and curiosity. Finally with a convulsive movement of her body his mother closed her eyes, her limbs straightened out and her eyes be- came glassy. Poor Brown jacket was an orphan as his father had long fallen prey to a hunter's sure aim. For several hours Brown Jacket stayed by the side of his dead mother. Finally night fell and the fawn wandered further into the thicket and there bedded for the night. In the morning he woke to the glory of a new day. His first thought was of his mother but with the natural instinct of a wild animal, which is self preserva- tion, he began to feed. He missed the companionship of his mother but after awhile the urge to keep moving and liv- ing gradually drove thoughts of her out of his mind. The memory of an animal for parents or of parents for their off- spring is short. The memory of the shot which wiped out his mother stayed with him, however, and he kept to the dense woods and thickets where he fed and grew tall and fat. VVhen he heard the sound of fire- arms in the distance he went on the wings of the wind to safer pastures. Following the close of the hunting season from which he escaped unscathed Brown Jacket had his first experience with snow. At first it was easy to feed, later as the snow became deeper it was more difficult to get down to the ground for forage. Other deer joined him and for several months they kept together, treading down the snow until they could reach the food which meant existence. Fortunately Brown Jackets first win- ter was a mild one and he emerged in the spring considerably thinner but other- wise hale and hearty. The spring and summer months were a real pleasure ex- cept for the black flies which bothered for some time. His apology for a tail was slim protection from the myriads of insects which clustered on all parts of his body. At times he would lie in streams or submerge himself in a lake up to his head in order to get temporary relief. It was at this time he was bothered by a head-ache which he was unable to account for, until one day two tiny spiked horns broke through the skin on the top of his head. Brown Jacket was now a full-fledged buck deer although he had not as yet reached his full growth. Through the summer months and the early fall, Brown jacket had been quite content to browse by himself or with other bucks but as the nights grew colder he began to think that life was not quite

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XYINTHROP HIGH SCHOOL 321 failed before them. It was a foolish loss of life in the eyes of the average per- son but reasons that are kept from the public have been the objects of many seemingly worthless flights that have really pioneered the path now followed by huge horsepower planes with great safety. Gary Lee, ,239 Human Nature in a Subway For those who enjoy studying human nature there is undoubtedly no better place than the downtown street car or the subway, especially those which come and go between hve and seven. Here one will find every type of humanity. The shoddy person on the left with too much powder and too little grooming is coming from her Hve a week l' job in a live and ten to her apartment. The shapely legs of the girl next to her mean only one thing, weeks and weeks of practice until one desire is found, her name in big lights. Then there is the business man with his poignant, smelling cigar lost in his news- paper and matters too erudite for the frivolities around him. Up back is The Chattering VV omenls Club just return- ing from an outing, tired yes, but not tired enough so that they have lost their loquaciousness. No street car or sub- way would be complete without the howl- ing five year old whose mother has no influence in subduing his cries, much to the disgust of the bespeckled mannish lad. tlndividual across the way.j Ste- nographers, chorus girls, shoppers, busi- ness men, and clerks every one living in a separate world having their own worries, happiness and interests and in- different to the companions around them. They jostle eaclgier, push each other, apologize to each other and then go on their respective ways. Betty Webb, '39. On Seeing a Horse Race llands playing--drum majors strut- ting- hot choking dust-and a mass of people wait breathlessly for what?-- for the big event of the day,-THE RACES ! ! ! The bands disperse and the people set- tle down, waiting for the appearance of the horses. Many are going over their racing sheets and still others are placing last-minute bets. How feverishly they toss their money to the waiting girl at the stand, who knowns that they will never beat racing! Back to the stands and to numerous speculations as to the merits of the horses that you placed your money on. All this ceases as the horses are led from their stables to the track. VVhat beauties they are! How their satiny coats gleam in the sun. How royally they strut with their jockey's hunched over like little gnomes on their backs. They are led to their places and the crowd leans tensely forward. A shot! The barriers are jerked up and the cry is raised- 'A They're off ! Can this be a civilized crowd? This tortured mass of humanity, screaming, beseeching, imploring-a man over in the next isle has completely lost control of himself. He is pitifully begging some Lady jane to fly to the goal and curs- ing her jockey for not playing her nearer the rail. The woman next to him uses different tactics. She, alternately scolds, and uses baby-talk to her choice. lt's over, Vtfhat a leaden sound that has. There is something final about these few words. Something that you can faintly see in the drooping heads of the tired horses. No peerless, thorough- brecls these, their sides heaving and their coats dulled by dust and perspiration. The crowd too looks different. The 'K Sport of Kingsfl they call it, but its effects on people are quite un-royalfl Virginia Rourke, '38 l

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WINTHROP HIGH SCHOOL 35 complete. Little things made him irri- tated and he had several minor quarrels with brother bucks. This feeling persisted until one day, while drinking at a rippling brook not yet caressed by Jack Frost's icy touch, he heard a noise nearby. Looking up he beheld a shapely doe just about to drink from the same stream. Brown jacket viewed this intrusion with mixed emotions. The female sex, up to this time, had not been a part of his life. Shortly, however, he overcame his hesitation and, with the assurance of the dominant male, softly rubbed noses with his companion. Through some mysterious alchemy, unknown to humans, this slight contact seemed to disclose the life history of each deer, one to the other. No further court- ship was necessary, apparently, as from that time on the two were inseparable. And later, as the setting sun bathed them in its golden rays, the newly-mated pair walked into the twilight and, we hope, into a ripe old age unharmed by hunters and other animals. George C. Shute Ir., '39. U Beautiful Snow Snow is such a peaceful thing, It makes the ground so white .Xnd when the farmerls sleigh bells ring Itls like music, day and night. The sliding and skiing and all sports. It's loads and loads of fun XVhen the children start making snow forts - Tells you winter has really begun. Oliver Jackson, '-ll Description This was a very dark night and I walked through the heart of Chinatown in New York City. There was a slight breeze blowing upon my back and as I walked past an alley I expected a China- nian to jump upon my back and stab me with a knife. To my surprise nothing happened. The wind made the signs rattle and creak like rusty windmills and once in a while I could see a Chinaman peering at me from within a house. As I passed an alley I could hear a man uttering prayers who was perhaps a dope fiend. I passed the shop of a wealthy merchant whose beautiful store was decorated with bright colors. Ilater noticed a fine Chinese hotel with one window after another towering high up into the air. This Chinese hotel is perhaps the most beau- tiful one I have seen in my twenty-odd years of travel. Donald Norcross, '33 Wings I am always searching For something I can't find. .-Xnd my thoughts keep right on going. Leaving me behind. Must I keep on roaming All this whole world o'er Will my thoughts neier End a home On some distant-shore? Give my heart some wings, Lord, And let me Hy away. Like swallows on the wing, Lord. Laughing at night and day. I donit like houses, They shut you in They keep out the sun, The rain and the wind.