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

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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.

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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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36 Wil NTHRO I' WINNER Y I don't like the sound of closing doors Of security, peace and a home, I, want to be out with the wind in my face And all the whole world to roam. I love the sound of rain, I-'attering on the ground I liketo hear the thunder And see lightning flying round. l want to be where l can smell Green grass and blooming clover I want no ties to pen me down l fear my heart was for a rover. XVhy can I not Iind it NVhat I'm looking for? And, while I'm about it, What am I looking for? Neala VVhitney, '39 Transport tion 1743 Irlaye you ever thought how other people before your time had to travel? .Xs you speed along a wonderful highway in a thousand dollar limousine do you wonder how it would be if you were late to an important football game and had to depend on a buckboard and mud-filled roads to get there? In the early days of America a man thinking ahead to such things as men- tioned above would be chased out of the country. The best means of transporta- tion any man had was a horse or a car- riage. The roads were rough, dirty, muddy, and narrow. Suppose you had an important letter to send. You would leave it at the post office for the post rider to collect and trust to luck that he would get through with it. lf it was going a long ways several stops would be made. lf it was going to a thinly settled place a hold up would be the biggest worry. Compare sea traveling to-day with the crude way of 1743. Now you go to a big office where tickets are bought and you are assured of a room. In those days you just asked the captain if he had any room for you. You do not have to worry about eat- ing while on to-day's liners but in early sailing you had to take your own food supply. lVhere it took forty days to cross in 1711-3 it only takes from four to six now. All ships sail at the stated time to-day but a fair-wind was the excuse for the boats fitted with sails. Now, when the car is broken down, or the train is always late, or the bus isn't good enough to ride on any- way,'i just stop and think of the nice times your ancestors had while riding to church in a buckboard. James Hinds, '40, The Pioneer Crack! Crack! spoke a rifle high on the peak of a mountain overlooking a stretch of plain. Below, Don Sawyer, the leader of a band of pioneers, turned in the saddle of his mount and, shading the sun from his eyes, looked toward the peak from which the shot had been fired. He saw Hawk- eye, so called for his keenness of sight, waving his hat slowly back' and forth This meant trouble. Turning his mount, Don raced back to the wagon train. 'K jim, said Don to ,his younger brother, You have the wagons formed in a circle while I ride up and meet Hawk- eye. With this Don rode off. VVhen Hawkeye saw Don approach- ing he pointed in the direction ahead of the wagon train. Looking, Don saw a band of Indian warriors in a conference. XVhat do you think will be their next move and have they sited us yet ? asked Don of Hawkeye. 4' They have seen usf' replied Hawk- eye. lt is a band of Shawnee In- dians, and planning an attack. We had better go back to the train and prepare. After reaching the caravan Don said. addressing them all, 'K There is a band of