Girls Vocational School - Sun Dial Yearbook (Baltimore, MD)

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TACKLER THE ROMANCE OF A DANCE By Vera Mossman The gay frock of gold that I wore to the dance, was a promise of sophistica- tion, and a step towards romance, The shirred satin collar of pussy-willow design, stood up in the back in a manner divine. The shirred bloused effect, concluded at the waist, and the back that wasn't there was almost a disgrace, The flared skirt fitted tightly at the hips, my dear, and to bend over too sud- denly would mean disaster, I fear. Bly toes twinkled merrily in sandles minus the toes, and the bare heel I dis- played, why it nearly froze! Six thin straps, buckling on the side, were not only unique, but the height of my pride. VVhile of my cup of punch I was sipping a bit, I was invited to twirl, by a cute little trick! He fetched me my bag of mellow gold crepe, and while he was gone, I indulged in the cake. Upon his appearance, I opened the flap of my bag, and took out my puf attached to what he called a flag, It was really a chiffon hanky, ever so long, I picked up in fair London, for little more than a song. While dancing, the conversation was sort of dull, and I noticed a gown of chiffon from halter to toe, The back I Won't mention, for they will never know that her bareness was hid- den by an enormous string bow. Another creation that made me sigh, was of pale blue matelasse with a back- wards jacket of deep pearl grey, The top of the jacket wore a flower or two, and the short skirt in front, is now ultra new. The back of the girl showed from the slit of the jacket, and the buttons thereon resembled the ears of a rabbit, Her curls she had piled away up on high, A good nest forthe birdies, right then said and thought I! But time was passing, and it was soon time to go, and my partner shyly remarked that he hated parting sog He wrapped my gold cape about me, while I tied it in front, and again on the side, in style quite elegant. He saw me to my door, in a brand new limousine, his promise to call inspired me to dream. The gay frock of gold that I wore to the dance, decked me in sophistication, and brought me romance. 33

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THE TRADE ON HAVING 'roo MANY S1s'rERs QContinuedj closet to take a certain dress in which you think you look your best. Sud- denly, out of a clear blue sky, the dress has vanished. After a frantic search you finally discover that one of your sisters is Ndolled up', in your dress. NVith dismay you realize that this is the disadvantage of having a sister the same size as you. You select another dress not nearly so pretty as your first choice. You slip it on, but the neck line is not flattering. A pin would look lovely there. Cheered by the idea you go to the dressing table knowing just the one you want. Alas! another sister has taken proud possession of it for a night. A string of beads has to be substituted. The effect these create is not so complimentary, but you are now practically dressed and try to keep calm and begin to arrange your hair. Queer though you had it waved, the curls do not fall into place. A thought! The tiny clip that matches the necklace is just the thing. Yes, your younger sister departed with that an hour ago. Again you bite your lip and squint your eyes to keep the tears away. At least you can use some of your new and expensive perfume. The bottle is hidden away in your bureau. You cannot find it, so you call to Mother. Mother softly explains that the children were straightening the room and accidently spilled all the contents of the bottle. Now you want to cry! Instead you take a deep breath, for if the tears start to fall you will muss your face on which you have taken so many pains. A last look in the mirror is not very reassuring after spending two hours getting dressed. As you slowly descend the stairs with a lost and disgusted feeling, you realize the tragedy of having too many sisters. STREET CARS WCJULD BE PERFECT IF: More knee space and comfortable seats were provided. A three-piece orchestra were on the platform to play favorite numbers. An usher were there t.o show us to our place. There were Hat escalators so that one would not be jerked when the car started. Motormen knew each individual so he could awaken the rider at his destination. Street car temperatures were 700 or above. Street cars never became crowded. Hot chocolate were served and peanuts and candy were sold. Cars were always on time. The car took one directly to his door. It never passed one by. Then-I am sure, all you street car riders will agree that street cars would be perfect. Dorothy Foote 32

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THE TRADE I THE MYSTERY OF Mas. PETER! By Anna M anzo Peter, Peter, pumpkin eater, Had a Wife, but eouldn't keep her- Have you ever wondered why? I know you have, and so have I This startling fact caused me confu- sion I thought of this, as a solution: Perhaps Mrs. Peter was fond of fash- ions, And she drove her poor husband Into days of distraction, VVorrying over her many bills From dresses she bought, That she claimed gave her thrills. VVhat,s this P he demanded One night at eight thirty? Shaking a bill at her madly In hands grubby and dirty. Why dearf' she replied, from her seat in the rocker, You 1'emember the dress That was designed by lNIainhocher, The skirt wrapped to the left And the bodice to the right, The material that was used I'll admit was too bright. The short left sleeve VVas of satin-faced crepe, And ended in a train- Oh dear, Pvc run out of tape ! t'And what did you buy at this par- ticular store VVl1en you went after paint For the guest bedroom door? A lovely black suit IVith stitching on the flaps, Darling, you know I couldn't re that? '6Bills, bills, I'm going mad, If you ever buy on credit again Youall regret it, by Gad ! sist And with this declaration He stormed off to bed With visions of the poorhouse Filling his head. The next day at 10:00 The postman arrived VVith a new fashion book And was quite surprised When she told him to take back VVhat he had brought, Her husband was due, And then she'd get caught! Everything went fine, Till, one day in December When, I haven't any clothesf, She suddenly remembered. Down to the clothes store She strode very briskly Buying furs and dresses, oh, so riskily And all this on credit she foolishly bought. And late that night With her husband she fought. He yelled and she wept Till the wee hours of morn, But her baggage was packed And ready by dawn. Poor Mrs. Peter was out in the cold 'Cause she didn't heed What her husband foretold. Alas! Mrs. Peter, The pumkin eater's wife, Led, in my opinion, A very horrid life. Peter, Peter, pumpkin eater Had a wife but couldn't keep her, ,Cause she was extravagant And he without pity, Sent her straight back to her native city. 34