Girls Preparatory School - Kaleidoscope Yearbook (Chattanooga, TN)

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CAM l'0l0 QC? Who can learn the whims of Fortune? Who can know what will befall? Why, that's me, Madame Swami, Gaze into my crystal ball! As I gaze into the crystal, I behold a lady fair, It must be Betsy, brewing liquid HQOg for her hair. Martha's name is known by thousands Who are plagued with various illsg She's discovered a new method For making effervescent pills. Owner of a sleek white Jaguar, Swimming pools, and other toysg Sarah has a new best seller Entitled merely, "Boys, Boys, Boys!' In the depths of the gymnasium I now spy a charming lass- Why, it's powerful Ann Corbitt, Leader of the Phys. Ed. class. From the good old penitentiary I can hear a sorrowful wailg Patty shold have known her smitties Could but lead to one place-jail! In the highest realm of women, Michele really is a star. She was just elected president Of U.D.C. and D.A.R. After years of grueling study, Lynn's acquired a new degree, Using Butch as an example, She practices psychiatry. Since she's learned to speak the German, Carol's ridden for a fallg It broke her heart when she discovered They didn't love her after all. Kay's another famous author Whose reputation is not so dim. Her latest one is now entitled, "How To Stay Slim By Using Kay's Gym." N.A., whom we all remember, Had chronic laryngitis, I've heard, Itls such a change for one to see her Sitting there, without a word. And now I see our Songbird, Barney, Giving the Grand Old Op'ry a Whirlg She sings a song in accents odd Sitting in for Minnie Pearl. A big occasion at G.P.S.- Miss Moyer's so happy that she could dieg She got a letter from Cynthia, saying, "I've found the recipe for Pi!" O O O Dot and Dodo, our cheerleaders Graham, the notorious outdoor supreme, fiend, Are getting quite risque, I fearg Their next important project is Leading the "dirty boogie" cheer. An important figure is our Katie With white starched cap around her head, Poor Larry went to school so long, Katie is the M.D. instead. Overmyer and Fowler now are Teaching basketball in the Big Ten, They don't know much about the game, But . . . what they know about the men! Poor Joyce could never break the habit Of loyalty to Red and Grayg Her taxi service streaks from Red Bank to Baylor twice a day. Sally has found a tough adversary In ferocious Nancy Browng While she rescues drowning swimmers, Nancy tries to push them down. Jean is now a top-grade singer, She rakes in quite a yearly fee, While on the sidelines wait her steadies, She calmly sings, "Which one shall it be?" Our Julia is doing everything To make G.P.S. a happy landg Outside Mrs. Lackey's class is found "Corley's Quick Concession Stand." Of all the many vocations, Only Judy's is not quite normalg She goes from door to door, selling Evans' used diamonds and beat-up formals. Ansley and Perky, bright new stars, Find many an enemy can be hadg Their picture, "Gentlemen Prefer Blondes," Is making all the brunettes mad. From the halls of Duke University I heard astounding news of late- Dumbest girl to go to college, Gail will never graduate! Bettie B.'s a T. V. herog Tune in at seven every dayg She puts to expert use her slogan, "Keep your conversant at bay." P.O.C. and Pollard are in businessg The fun they're having is really a sing They run a special school of dancing Admitting only college men. fYou all remember her chilly pastb Is planning a venture to the Artic- Cooler, fresher air at last! Mary Walker's a big name model, And we finally found out how. She works for Borden's making poses As Elsie, the contented cow. The way that Jonette and Marsha are Raising children is the newsg They are happy and contented, But do they get those washday blues! In the Blue Grass of Kentucky Kayo now is satisfiedg She raises horses for the purpose Of keeping bookies well supplied. Also in the hills of Kentucky Are Carolyn and Linda, so I hearg They are really keeping busy A-teachin' every mountaineer. B.C. and Mary Ann are in Paris- Noted for their striking forms, They have outclassed Worth and Lanvin Modelling G.P.S. uniforms. Susie's finally hit the jackpot. Her name goes from mouth to mouthg She built a new Empire State Building In the sunny, Solid South. Only gangsters of our gathering, Making many illegal salesg Warner and Currin are the culprits, Selling those false pony tails. Lance has many naughty pupils Who keep getting in her hairg Worst of all the G.P.S.'ers Is Judy Young . . . 'cause she's still there! Deep in the heart of her laboratory Janice is mixing up a blast, She's discovered 2,000 elements Of which Franklinium is the last. Dee Dee, our colossal actress, Known for landing parts with luck, Goes to work for Disneyland, In the role of Daisy Duck. With this last good stroke of fortune, Now our crystal ball grows dimg But we hope that this foretelling Helps you to remember them! -Carol Dielzen

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Cf... 'IM ... I, Lance Alston, will my art book to whoever wants it, in hopes she will get more out of it than I did. I, Susie Amsterdam, will my ability to make the honor roll every six weeks to my sister Alice-poor child, she's failing every subject. We, Nancy Armstrong and Cynthia Finley, will our ability to fall in love to Judy McKenzie and Sally Elkins. We, Mary Lynn and Graham Walker, will our long straight hair to Julie Burgwinkel. I, Betsy Brooks, will my many different colored lingernail polish to the spectrum in hopes that it will be- come inspired for future colors. We, Nancy Brown and Mamie Fowler, will our ability to keep out of trouble to Grace Moore and Betty Sue Ayers. I, Gail Bryan, will my handwriting back to the Egyptians. We, Betsy Chamberlain, Joyce Rogers, and Dot Talley will pass French. I, Ann Corbitt, will my weird study habits to any fellow procrastinator in hopes that she will thrive on three hours of sleep better than I have. I, Julia Corley, will probably be here again next year. We, Linda Currin and Emmy Warner, will our voracious appetites to Judy Garner. I, Marsha Deitch, will all my belongings to my sister Carol, who already has most of them. I, Carol Dietzen, will my multi-colored hair to Marilyn Sherman, whose hair is such an uninteresting black. I, Sarah Dowell, will my ducks to the water fountain. I, Deedee Drosten, will my meticulously immaculate uniforms and my enormous collection of uniform vio- lation slips back to the Student Council. I, Jean Dubose, will my ability to get the morning funny paper first, to Bunny Turner, who races me to it at the beginning of every fourth period study hall. I, Judy Evans, will a year's supply of Hard Gloss Glo-Coat to our beloved gym floor. I, Linda Forester, will my vitamin pills to Janie Hargraves, who never seems to have a bit of energy. I, Jonette Galt, will my ability to catch one man to Katie Killebrew, who seems to be having so much trouble. We, Kay Gladish and Carolyn Reynolds, will our horses to next year's gym classes to use for those long jaunts from the playing field. I, Katie Killebrew, will my athletic ability to Elizabeth Ann Tessman. We, Michele Lauderbach and Bettie B. Porzelius, will our short and common last names to Nancy Browne and Charlotte Jones, who have such long and complicated ones. I, Kay McKenzie, will my sunlamp to the sunworshippers that appear every spring on the slope behind school, in hopes that they might retain their glorious tans throughout the year. I, Mary Ann Miles, will my mononucleosis to anyone who is not in the "Senior slump" and needs to rest. I, Patricia, O'Conner, will my ability of making excuses to get out of work to any one who can put them to better use. I, Susan Overmyer, will my love of red heads to Pinkie Drosten. We, Patty Park and Judy Young, will our Bermuda bells to the McCallie band and the G.P.S. ensemble. I, Ansley Parker, will my loud mouth to Susan Seaborn, who never seems to open hers. I, Judy Perkinson, will my love of Davidson to Cynthia Craig, who I hope will carry on the tradition. I, Judy Pollard, being of feeble mind and downright sick body leave-Donit you? I, Sara Prosterman, will my little sister Dorothy to G.P.S. for the next live years. That seems to be the only way to get rid of her. I, Janice Shipley, will my long, lacquered fingernails to Mrs. Thomas' volleyball team. I, Martha Thomas, will my neatly combed hair-do to Janice Haley, who has such a fuzzy mop. I, Sally Tyler, will my height to Jane DeLoach. I, Mary Walker, will my corpulent figure to little bitty Ginny Montgomery. I, Lynn Walter, will the litttle "greene" man back to Mars.

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021416 . . . WINTER There was a time when the forest was green: Her leaves and her boughs formed a canopied roof over the verdant moss But it is not so now. The garrulous brook has toned down to a murmur, The fern is all folded and dead, The trees yield their leaves to the wielding earth And the oaks shake their barren heads. The playful wind is now angry and cross, It stalks where it once carressed. The crickets once chirped and the sparrows sang But now where happiness always rang- Only silence ticks. What time is this? Whence comes the gloom? Where is the forest of old? What wanton creature has ravished the woods . . . and left them all silent and cold? -DeeDee Drosten. It is the blue gray time of quiet, mottled skies of pearl. Far off a sound is heard which splinters the stillness- A child called in from play- The chortle of a lone bird across on another hill. And the stark trees thrust their naked arms skyward. In the deepening haze their branches melt into filmy laces. A grove of perennial pines are martial silhouettes Guarding their hill against the stealthy, syrupy shadows That flow down the valleys and melt into the crevices of the world. How still is this mood between sunlight and lamp-burning time. One moment more and a light will flash on in a window across the way. Streetlamps will form a diamond-bright necklace down the avenue. But now I wish to stand, alone in the deepening blue-gray dusk- In this time of quiet reverie- And think. -Corbitt. Molten silver on a shadowed Wall Lights recollections in my soul. Shreds of a song- Or was it an experience? I forget. It must have been the day before rememberance. But 'tis recalled in a swift pain of rapture and content When a beam of silver Hows liquid across my shadowed wall. -Corbitt. CELESTIAI. PROOF Gail Bryan Dark Night enfolds us in serenity. She spreads her sable wings to shroud the light, Yet only half succeeds, for, in the heights Of unknown realms, there hangs a brilliancy, Celestial beacons of eternity, A radiance across the drapes of Night, With spectral lustre Haunting lesser light, And giving Night an air of mystery. I do not marvel at the men of old Who worshipped Night's concave of heavenly hosts, At ancients idolizing Hecks of gold, And yet, I miss validity in boasts Of men who witness miracles untold And still expound: "There is no Lord of Hostsf'