Annie Wright School - Shield Yearbook (Tacoma, WA)

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TTHG SHIGLD ICE-SKATING Over the shining blue ice dances a figure to the music of the Blue Danube. The figure is dressed in a short, full skating-skirt of blue with a small line of white fur around the bottom. The skates are white shoe-skates with blades of shining, blue steel. Now a turn, then a jump, then a whirl, but always keeping time to the music. When the music stops, the figure stops. When the music goes fast, the figure goes fast. Then the song ends. The figure bows and skates off the ice. BARBARA TURNER, Sixth Grade. MIDNIGHTS RESCUl Midnight was a mother cat with three baby- kittens. She was as black as midnight and lived near the great Mississippi River. She dearly loved her three kittens. Their names were Mustard, Delay, and Early. Mustard was a tan color and he was very fond of stinging puppy Duke on the nose when he came too near. Delay was smallest of the bunch, he was always late for bathing time and ALWAYS made up a delayed excuse. (Which he was very- good at.) Early was the very opposite. He always was awake, alert, and happy, and he was AL- WAYS ready to play, ANYTIME. Puppy Duke was the puppy. He was very old and he always wanted to make friends with Mus- tard, but never got a chance. Now every year the Mississippi would over- flow in the spring, and a terrible flood would sweep over the land. It was just the middle of March, when they were awakened by a terrible upro.ir, where Midnight lived. What ' s that noise, mother? asked Early. Horrors! exclaimed Midnight. Its the Mississippi. Wake up, Mustard, and Delay, run and tell Duke to bark to Mistress and Master. They can understand him. Early did all this in such a hurry that it did not seem a minute until he was back. Duke woke up Mr. and Mrs. Brown. In a minute everybody was awake. Mr. Brown was down putting every- thing in the boat, and Mrs. Brown was getting the clothes and food from the house down to the boat. Midnight managed to get her kittens up to the highest place on the roof, when the flood came. The boat was starting off without Midnight and her kittens, when Duke began whining and growling. What ' s the matter, Duke? said Mrs. Brown. Duke could not stand it any longer. He jumped off the boat, swam back to the house, and got Midnight and her kittens into their basket, and carried it in his mouth, and swam through the cold, cold water to the boat. Mrs. Brown helped them up to the boat and took Duke in her arms and carried him into the cabin. Then she got Midnight and her kittens and took them into the cabin, too. She gave Duke a warm bath and dried him well and put him by the fire. He was com- pletely exhausted. Then she gave Midnight a saucer of hot milk. Then they all curled up by Duke and went off to sleep. OLIVE BELL, Fifth Grade. THE FAIRIES Oh! See the fairies dancing, All dancing in a ring; And hear their tiny voices Sing tra la la, sing. My, look at the gay colors — Blue, green and yellow. Look, look at that little one, That tiny little fellow. Why! He ' s a little elf All dressed in brown. Oh! Look at that pretty one With a lovely gown. PATSY CHILDS, Fifth Grade. AN EASTER BUNNY I saw a little Easter bunny, As white as white as snow; But when he jumped, he looked so funny. Because he could not go. His great big ears just weighed him down. And he was bored to tears; Because he was the one that was The one that had big ears. I REDELLA HACKETT, Sixth Grade.

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THG SHI6LD v O GIFTS FROM AN UNKNOWN BACHELOR Seven years ago I received a book from an unknown gentleman! On Christmas morning, nineteen thirty-one, I excitedly opened a mys- terious package. It was The Oregon Trail, by Francis Parkman. My excitement fell to the ground with a thud. It was the book that the High School girls groaned about. Many a time I had heard them say what a dry book it was, and I was in only the fourth grade! On the fly- leaf in a precise hand was the inscription: ' To Jean with my very best wishes for a happy Christ- mas, from J. L. Hooper. The next year at Christ- mas I received another book called The Book oj the Flower Fairies. This book, more suited to my age, was a charming book of poetry beautifully illustrated. The following year I received Vanity Fair, by Thackeray. The book was not moved from the bookshelf until three years later. Every year since then this gentleman has sent me a book at Christmas. Nineteen thirty-six brought me A Little B udget of Home Stones. This was a small book with thick pages, enormous print, and short, choppy sentences which reminded me of one of my first readers. Last Christmas came a tiny book called A Flower Fairy Alphabet. I remember an alphabet book that I knew by heart at the age of five. I have always remembered the verse that went with the letter Z. Z ' is for Zebra Who has all the stripes. But as this book has to do with flowers it says: Z is for Zinnia, pink or red; See them in the flower-bed, ( pper, orange, all agl» v. Making such a stately show. All these gifts have been sent to mc by a bachelor whom my father met on one of his many business trips, and whom I have never seen. This year after writing my usual thank-you note, not more than two weeks later I received a letter from him. He sent me a picture of his dog and informed me that he was going back to England and planned to stop in Tacoma on his way East. We expect him next week, and won t he be sur- prised when he sees that I ' m not six any more! JEAN WEBSTER, 1940. THE FIRST DIVE You sit on the edge of the pool and look down at the water. All the time you are muttering to yourself, will. I will. Then you stop and shudder as you notice the depth. You imagine yourself under water struggling to come up, and shudder again. But now you ' re set, head down, hands to- gether, and a deep breath. One, two, three — no, not this time, next time. But next time is al- ready that dreadful this time. You can ' t believe it. It isn ' t true. You ' re actually losing your bal- ance. Then comes the awful moment just before you hit the water. When you come out dripping with water, you surmise that it was not so bad after all. GEORGIANA WIEBENSON, Eighth Grade. NIGHT The sky was like a dark blue sieve Turned upside down, and the stars Were peeping through like small, silver suns Covering the Earth with a dim light. DAY The sun like a big yellow ball Shone down on the green meadow And polished the hills in the distance, Till they gleamed like piles of gold. JOAN LATIMER, Eighth Grade. THE PEACEFUL OUTDOORS The waters were smooth and tranquil. The sea gulls flew noiselessly about. A dog lay drows- ing on the beach. The mountains stood out across the water, and the sun was going down behind them. A sailboat was anchored to an old, pic- turesque dock. Not a sound could be heard for even the flies were asleep. MARTHA BINNS, Sixth Grade. A PLAIN DONKEY I am just a plain donkey that happened to see the birth of Christ. Don ' t you think I was very lucky? I will tell you the whole story. One night it all happened. I was in my stall almost asleep, when a man and a woman came into the barn. They looked around. Just then I fell asleep. I was very foolish to do that. I was awakened by a crying sound. I opened my eyes very quickly and I saw in my manger a beautiful Baby. I felt kind of funny, because I was not used to having a baby in my manger. By that time all the ani- mals of the barn were awakened and they were crowding around my manger. I had the best view of the pretty Baby. Soon our master came in and kneeled and bowed his head. I looked up at the ceiling and I saw some angels. Then I looked outside and I saw a big star shining above the barn in the sky. BILLIE JEAN RUST, Fifth Grade.

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8 1938 THG SHIELD FROM OU Mary Jane Stamm, 1935, who received the Keen Memorial Wreath, sends this greeting from Mills College. APPRECIATION Appreciation — It is a queer word because by definition it means to price or value, to esti- mate justly, to recognize or feel the worth of or to esteem duly. And yet how many things do we take for granted without fully recognizing the value therein. Do you fully appreciate your school and the opportunities that are offered there? Do you value the friendship of your instmctors and recognize the interest which they show in you? And again do you entirely realize and esteem the efforts which your families have made in order to send you to a girl ' s school? Perhaps it would be better to sav that when you leave your school, your Annie Wright Sem- inary, you will look back upon it and the days spent there with fuller comprehension. Perhaps your sense of value will be keener than before. Mavbe there will be a trace of sadness as you look back over events which you might have felt more deeply. However, rhere will be a much greater sense of appreciarion when scenes of happy days crowd your memory. Leam to estimate justly and be grateful for the opportunities offered so that when you leave your school there will be only one regret — that you were not able to stay longer. Jean Anderson, 1937, writes of an extended sojourn in the south. A SOUTHWESTERN JAUNT In my year away from school duties I have had a journey whose itinerary has taken me into the great Southwest. California is rightly adver- tised and Arizona ' s sunsets are as beauriful as pic- tured. The two bridges at San Francisco add mate- rially to the already marvelous view. Chinatown is unique. At the telephone company ' s office, an ornamenred pagoda, the operators must be able to speak six of the seven dialects spoken in China- rown in addition to English, Italian, and German. Going down the coast, Los Angeles is next in importance. Almost everything in this vicinity is done on a gigantic scale; buildings rail, city limits ro the ocean, boulevards long, and civic projects in proportionate size. But above its size the at- tractions arc the deciding factors. Still farther down the coast lies the charming city of San Diego with its sub-tropical atmosphere. Old Town with its historic points and Balboa Park s fourteen hun- dred acres add greatly to that sea port. There is a fascination about the desert that is inexplainable. Each day of the month in Tuscon made the thought of leaving harder. Arizona is so rich in minerals rhar visits to the mines were ALUMNAE unavoidable. Near Tuscon is Colossal Cave which has many formations resembling animals and per- sons. Hundreds of bats in one portion give the cave that needed touch. The trip from beginning to end I enjoyed to the maximum. From Jane Bourne, President of the Class of 1936 and Trustee Scholar at Mills College, comes the following letter. To all the Seminary: I ' m so happy to have the opportunity of put- ting a few words inro The SHIELD. Receiving the annual is such fun, for although many of the alumnae have lost really close contact with the Seminary, we still have the sincere interest in it — or even more. This spring vacation while flying from Seattle to Portland, we passed directly over the School. It looked perfectly beautiful from the air. In that view so many memories came back to me. There was the Chapel, which means so much to all of us; the gym, where we Golds had to fight so hard for our victories; the field, where in earlier days we ground out credits for our teams; the tower, scene of May Day and of our Twelfth Night. All thar the Seminary has meant to me came back more clearly than ever. It occurred to me looking at the School from far above that in the same way it is not until we have been out and away from Annie Wright that we realize what she has given us in background, experiences, and associations. All these things are increasingly appreciared as time goes on. There ' s really very lirtle to report about myself — though I seem to be inhumanly busy. I have been granted a scholarship for Dance at the Mills Summer Session, and I shall act as student assist- ant. It will be thrilling, for I II work under Bonnie Bird of Martha Graham ' s school, Lester Horton, and our Tina Flade. Next year I may be at Mills again or in the east — it isn ' t definite yet. Love to you all. Jane. Frances Crawford, 1937, is continuing her studies at Stanford University. In her senior year at the Seminary she wrote the following tr.msl.i tion: IN THE SPRING OF THE YEAR Gaius Valerius Carullus Now the jocund Spring the happy season brings; Now the winter ' s age must hush his blust ' ry rage; And Zephyr, debonair, walks the fields of air. Nor will Catullus grieve Phrygian lands to leave. Now Asia-wards we fly to cities proud and high. Again my hearr is gay, eager on to stray; Now eagerly my feet, glad again, grow fleet. Farewell my comrades dear, together for a year, Who by one way left Rome, and now take many home.