Abbot Academy - Circle Yearbook (Andover, MA)

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Jleaswl m PaAMwa Lush (appropriately shocked): Sadie, did you eat without your shoes? Sadie (unabashed ): I certainly didn ' t eat with them! Connie described the lights in a theatre as gondoliers. Maybe it was the company! Fish, singing lustily, Sam and eggs for breakfast! Nannie (on viewing Intervale ' s male contingent): There ' s your chance to go steady! Mr. Emerson (as Annie returned from a quick one on the twister trail): Been snowing in them thar hills? Continuous performance — daily through midnight: Happy birthday, dear Mooney! Annie: Bo, Bellows and I have bunks. Bobo: Hm — furnishings to fit the personality at Maple Villa! een in Connie late-ly learning subtle fascinations of — poker. Riddle — guess who! Sitting on the back wall in the movies, reminding us of six black cats on Hallowe ' en. Answer — Ca, Bellows, Bonnie, Leland, Hill and Waugh. Miss Hearsey catching on, oh so quickly, to the art of tipping one ' s sugar into one ' s tea. Significance — he really cares. Roger defending himself against a literal bombardment of snowballs on the station platform. Fishie, Kiki, and Mac on snowshoes for the first time — and to their horror Miss Hearsey ' s camera catching all the downs. (There were no ups!) Nimble dancing feet in ski boots until the novelty wore off, or maybe it was the strength. Then came socks! Connie and Sadie in circles to ' ' Hold Tight. ' ' And Well Aeu i tf-QA fd The thrill of seeing feet of snow — and Intervale. The beauty of the mountains in the bright sun of Saturday morning. The excitement of the ski tow and the heights to which it could take us. The brilliance of the moon as we rode to the movies. The Sunday night supper under the pines and stars, with an open fire and frankfurters to cook. The peace of sitting together before the fire as Miss Hearsey read aloud and Woodie played the Moonlight Sonata. The ties of friendship made and strengthened by our days of common experience and comradeship. The mingled joy and sadness of returning to familiar faces and places. [45]

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Abbot, Abbot, I ' ve been thinking What a fine world this would be If you could all spend your week-ends Up at Intervale with me.

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9ritesw.ale M(ma£ Tune: Sweet Rosy 0 ' Grady I once knew an Indian Who exclaimed to me, I don ' t get this skiing game, It ' s foolish as can be! Woosh! you go, then climb a mile! Well, maybe he ' s not wrong, But if I could stay at Intervale I ' d ski my whole life long. Tune: Take Me Out to the Ball Game Take me back to New Hampshire, Take me back to The Inn, Give me some skates and skis and poles, Give me some snow to fill up the holes Where I fell while doing the Christie; Think nothing of broken knees ! For we ' ll soon be back to our books And to memories. Tune: Merry Widow Walt% We ' ve been skating, we ' ve been skiing, We ' ve had. fun, Broken bindings, aching shoulders, Now it ' s done; Though we ' ve left no broken limbs Up among the hills, Ne ' ertheless we ' ve left our hearts Where we had spills. Tune: The Old Apple Tree There ' s a little old Inn in New Hampshire Which will live in my memory, Where we had flapjacks for breakfast, Where we shared our Simmons mattresses, Where we skied on our pants and our knees. Say good-bye, say good-bye, Say good-bye to the swift Twister Trail, We ' ll remember when we ' re eighty How we coasted down at sixty ' Round the pines and the peaks of Intervale. [46]