Anna Head School - Nods and Becks Yearbook (Berkeley, CA)

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 Come nymph, hide not behind the knotted oaks, Regarding me with thy wild, fearful eyes. With such a gaze the wounded roebuck looks Upon the hunter, as in death he lies. What? At my gentle words she frightened flies Into the dark protection of the grove. And running in her futile terror cries, “Oh father! Father Jupiter, above, Let not his man approach me with his mortal love!” 1 would embrace thee; thou art young and fair, Thy lips are rosy and invite a kiss. Oh let me hold thee, let me stroke thy hair, Bind it with flowers. All I ask is this. She trembles as I near her. Ah, the bliss That I shall feel when first I put my arm Around her slender waist, when first I kiss Her mouth. She should not fear me. If I harm Her, may I die at once beneath Diana’s charm. Why dost thou struggle like a poor snared thing? 1 have thee, but I’ll gladly let thee go When thou hast kissed me. Now, if thou wilt bring Thy lips to mine, and press them gently—so— What is the matter? Her wild heart heats slow As if Death held her in his iron hand And would not let her, though protesting, go. She's limp as wilted flower, and cannot stand— She’s fallen softly on the golden river sand. 1 22]

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It is a shabby brown house, set in a wide yard ’mid many trees, among which is old “Ellen Tree,” the Alcott girls’ favorite make- believe steed. After exploring the beautiful shady yard, we entered a narrow hall, to the left of which is a large living room. Here the fire- place is the center of attraction, for near it stands Mr. Alcott’s book- table, his wife’s easy-chair, and Beth’s footstool. In the corner rests the famous “sausage pillow” with which poor Laurie received many a pummelling from the four gay sisters. At the head of the stairs is Beth’s bedroom, which was once occupied by the inimitable Amy as evidence of which the naughty child had ornamented both walls and woodwork with pencil drawings of all kinds. There are angels in flowing robes, and handsome men with remarkably perfect noses, as Amy’s drawings were her only con- solation for her own turned-up little nose. All these works of art show the remarkable talent which was Amy’s. To keep curious fingers from marring them they have been covered with small pieces of plateglass. In the upper hall stands a glass cabinet, in which are preserved the fearful and wonderful costumes which the girls used for their dramatic performances. With the costumes wrere programs of their shouts supplied by a sympathetic and good-natured printer. We had yet another flight of steps to climb. Who does not remem- ber Jo’s literary attempts in the garret, with only a pet rat for com- pany? We looked upon her old writing desk and pen with some reverence, thinking of the patient woman whose genius gave so much to the world. Every article of furniture is some reminder of the beautiful family life that the worn house knew; even Beth’s piano stands in the parlor, and there are portraits of those cherubs of childhood. “Daisv” and “Demi.” When I left the place it seemed as though I had talked with every person who lived there, so marked was the place with the homey atmos- phere that also pervades the writings of the family’s most lovable and talented member,—Louisa M. Alcott. Ruth Stogsdill, ’27. I 21 1

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Alas! What have 1 done! The nymph is dead, As fade the summer flowers o’er the land, When boisterous Autumn, tossing his cruel head, Crushes and kills them with his withering hand. Forgive me, nymph, I did not understand That my gay kisses meant cold death to you. Love of a mortal laid you on this sand; For you, who were so glad, all joy is through, And I will roam the empty forest, searching you! Eleanor Burgess, ’26. Qharaeter Sketch off a Mae The deep leather chair in the library of the Executive Mansion, on a certain afternoon in 1861, held a lonely, discouraged man. The scene itself was cheerless, and the despondent position of the man showed how discouraged he really was. 'In the great stone fire- place a fire had been burning, and now, as if it, too, were weary of life, it threw a few feeble flickers on the shadowy walls and then settled into a heap of glowing coals. The gray sky, even, had a menacing look and gave practically no light to the dim room that fifteen presidents had previously occupied. But had any of these men faced as seemingly hopeless a problem as this sixteenth man now faced ? He was sitting far back in the chair, but his ungraceful back was bent forward. His elbows were on his knees, and his great rough head rested wearily in his hands. He sighed occasionally, and once a sound strangely like a sob shook the gaunt figure. No other sound broke the quiet of the White House, except the soft, crumbling sound of the fire and the slamming of a shutter in some distant part of the house. Truly, he was not a handsome figure and yet his large awkward frame covered the kindest heart, the noblest nature that man could [23]