Fairfax Hall High School - Chain and Anchors Yearbook (Waynesboro, VA)

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a I I TT EE a The Senior Class Will E, THE loyal subjects of our fairy Queen, Jane Titania Nelson, being light of heart, gay in spirit, and realizing that the army of Calibans has been chased from the Land of Heart’s Desire, do feel it proper and fitting in the Year of Our Lord, nineteen hundred and thirty-five, to make certain bequests to those spirits who next will tread the steep but merry hill to the “Land of Make Believe.” Accordingly, we hereby draw up, publish, and declare this our last will and testa- ment. ARTICLES SEcTION I—To Fairfax Hall, our own Alma Mater, we leave a magic spell to be cast over our fairy fancies and youthful dreams that they may come true for our successors. SECTION II—To Miss Post, our fairy godmother, we leave our sincere appreciation and gratitude for her help in making Fairfax Hall a “Land of Heart’s Desire.” SECTION III—To the Maxwells, the competent officers of the “Ariel Troupe,” in ap- preciation for the sympathy, encouragement, and untiring guidance they have bestowed on us during our four years’ sojourn here, we leave a friendship necklace of dewdrop pearls. SECTION IV—To the faculty that safely guided us through our numerous difficulties and misunderstandings, we leave fairy wands as tokens of our undying friendship. ARIIGLESIL PERSONAL BEQUESTS SECTION I—I, Virginia Munson, leave my will power to diet to Peggy Groff. SECTION II—I, Kitty Gordon, leave my boisterous laughter to the dining room and the halls, that its echoes may last throughout the years. SECTION III—I, Betty Emery, leave my quiet ways to Barbara Hartley. SecTION IV—I, Katherine Mulligan, leave my Perfolastic to Violet Ventress. SecTION V—I, Muriel Mason, leave my ablity to sing on perfect pitch to Marjorie White. SECTION VI—I, Jane Nelson, leave my executive ability to Elise Keeney. SECTION VII—I, Lolita Main, leave my grades in Spanish to the future Spanish II class. SECTION VHI—I, Norma Bernts, leave my naturally curly hair to Fifi Fischer. (Note: Fifi, the curl dosen’t come out when you go riding in the snow or rain.) To this document, duly witnessed, we the loyal subjects of the Queen, on this twenty-sixth day of May, in the Year of Our Lord nineteen hundred and thirty-five, do wave our magic wands and in pansy juice afhix our hand and seal. —Louita Main, Attorney. PE EAE a ae ot ete a Re a a Ee ES a ee

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CHAPTER IV It finally came true that we were Seniors. Jane Nelson reigned as our Queen; and Kitty Gordon, Muriel Mason, Betty Emery, Lolita Main, Catherine Mulligan, Virginia Munson, and Norma Bernts were her loyal subjects. “Knowledge is power.” With that maxim in mind, we strove to make our last year one that would be indelibly etched on our minds and hearts as one of happiness and accomplishment. Some of the memories we have stored away are: a lovely tea at “Maxwelton;” a a dance at the Fishburne Military School; $. M. A.—F. M. S. football game; S. M. A. Orchestra and Glee Club recital; and concert by Franceska Larsen, soprano. Concerning our home talent, we cannot forget “Friend Hannah” and “The Mikado,” both remarkable and successful productions. As for our class undertakings, we have great pride in the success and enjoyment of the Senior party in October, the Senior Tea Dance in April, and the May Breakfast. The Junior-Senior Reception meant more to us this year than it had meant before, for we were the guests of faultless hostesses—the Junior Class. As our own Commencement drew near, we were left with the feeling that our four years in Fairfax had been a glorious dream, and that we after all had been living in the Land of Heart’s Desire. The reception, recitals, and exercises that took place at Commencement made us feel that we had done our best and were ready to step out into the world through the four gateways of worship, work, play, and friendship. . —Betty Emery, Historian

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2S ee = Sa SSE EE. ee ee ee The Senior Class Prophecy T HAPPENED in my own beautiful flower garden that my wish to ride on clouds came true. Since my childhood I had longed to take a trip around the world My wish to have this trip as a graduation gift was unfulfilled. Now, ten years after I left Fairfax, I was taking that trip, not as most people take it— on dirty, rattling, bumping trains, and on rolling, pitching ships—but on a deli- cate, fleecy, white cloud with a fairy-like creature as my pilot. How fast we could go! How breath-taking it was to fly in a minute from my flower garden to Madison, Wisconsin! Here my ethereal little pilot lowered me on a snowflake parchute to the roof of the Good Health Hospital, where very plainly I could see the Queen of our Senior Class, Jane Nelson, dressed in a uniform and minis- tering to the poor sick people. Quickly my little partner and I mounted our cloud again and sailed away to Baltimore, Maryland, where we espied Betty Emery in a mansion on a beautiful estate. Her uniform, which was not unlike Jane’s, told us that Betty was not the mistress of this home, but that she was there in the capacity of a trained nurse, relieving the aches and pains of the old Dowager who lived in the Blue Room. Whew! Making Norway from Baltimore in two and one-half minutes almost took my breath! My little pilot successfully landed our cloud in a beautiful fiord, where she waited until I had a glimpse of Norma Bernts. Goodness, what a cosmopolite ten years of traveling had made of her. She was in Norway for a short reunion with her family before she again set sail. The sprite and I left our mooring in Norway, took a quick trip into Germany, then lazily glided down to Italy in search of Kitty Gordon. We found that she had left Italy some time ago, and was scheduled to make her debut at the Metropolitan Opera House in an hour. At top speed my partner and I raced across the Atlantic, and arrived in New York in time to see Kitty take her numerous curtain calls. Our little cloud became weary, so we coasted down to Pennsylvania, and there we saw a peculiar spectacular sight—a woman undertaker handling a glorious funeral for Luey Hong, who had committed suicide because of his failure to be elected Dictator of the United States. As we got closer, we saw that the undertaker was my classmate, Kay Mulligan, and that she was using an old fashioned hearse, drawn by ten of her own blue-ribbon race horses. As we cruised along on our weary little cloud, it began to weep, and make huge raindrops, on which we glided down to the window-sill of a comfortable, cosy-looking bungalow. When we gained our equilibrium, we peeped into the window and to our amazement saw Ginny Munson and her prosperous-looking husband having dinner. We could hear him explaining how they were to spend the fabulous fee he had collect- ed that day as payment for his winning in court the privilege for the Fairfax girls to use their private airplanes during “rec” hour. Our tiny conveyance became fleecy-white again, and we dashed away full speed ahead. In an incredibly short while we were hovering over an unfamiliar yet beautiful EEE EEE Re