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The Abbot Circle 1927
A gong sounds and crowds of people pour forth from the big brick building.
They shove and jostle each other in a useless attempt to hasten the leaders. A
fitful murmur of conversation arises. One hears various languages: French,
German, Spanish, and even English. The bent figures with heavily laden arms
toil painfully over the icy pavement. Progress is slow. The wintry blast chills
them, they shiver and gather their shawls more closely about their heads.
One wonders how many nationalities are representedfin Abbot's daily
refugee parade. MIRIAM HOUDLETTE '27
Ent anh iiaealth
It seems, as I look about school, that the girls are a particularly nice type.
On the whole, they are a good-looking group, well dressed and of about the same
I personally think, however, that dieting both of food and of people, when
not required, is rather obnoxious. Cocoa, toast, soft boiled eggs, half an orange
for breakfastgcreamed chicken on toast without mushrooms and peppers, custard
pie and lettuce for lunch, tomato bisque, mashed potatoes and veal, creamed
canned peas, and VVashington pie for dinner, do not impress me as particularly
enjoyable. I am in favor of a few green peppers and caraway seeds.
When letters are given at the end of the athletic season, the speech, for which
we clap until our hands are raw, is " I'm glad to have played for Abbot " . All very
true, and nice-but rather a tame speech to hand out to such enthusiastic
rooters. VVhy not be generous to these poor unfortunates who beg for cake?
"Oh, I'm afraid of making a fool of myself!" Why not play the fool occasion-
ally if it means a sign of self-development. Everyone, who is interesting, makes
mistakes - if only to prove he is not a machine.
After all, if we never put on the new shoes until we've walked in them, are
we ever going to put them on, let alone walk in them? SYDNA WHITE '27
March winds blew me into the world - perhaps that's why I love them so.
When I am feeling blue and useless, a mere, unnecessary bit of dust, a cold, vigor-
ous blast of wind lifts up my spirits as surely as it lifts my skirts. I sit on the hot,
familiar radiator thinking, wondering, puzzling - I step out the door and a
sudden gust releases a hidden spring within me so that, jack-in-the-box-like, some-
thing breaks loose. ELLA STONEBRAKER '27