Kingswood School Cranbrook - Woodwinds Yearbook (Bloomfield Hills, MI)

Text from Pages 1 - 80 of the 1940 volume:

THE DANCING GIRLS LotaUd by the lake on the Kingiwood (ampin. C.vUS7 :iU4 II HI IE PUBLISHED BY THE SENIOR CLASS OF 1940 KINGSWOOD SCHOOL CRANBROOK BLOOMFIELD HILLS. MICHIGAN FACULTY CLUB DEDICATION The Senior Class of nineteen forty wishes to dedicate this issue of Woodwinds to the faculty in appreciation of their unfailing friendship and guidance in our years at Kingswood. MARGARET A. AUGUR FACULTY Augur, Margaret A., B. A., Headmistress................................Chicago, Illinois Bierce, Marion F., Secretary..................................Cuyahoga Falls, Ohio Bennett, Elizabeth, B. A., M. A., English.....................Cleveland Heights, Ohio Blessing, Ruth L., R. N., Resident Nurse...................Philadelphia, Pennsylvania Brozik, Mrs. Jaroslav, Art.............................................Flint, Michigan Cadigan, Charles, B. A., B. D-, Bible Studies................Bloomfield Hills, Michigan Chapman, Mrs. E. R., Voice...................................Bloomfield Hills, Michigan Cochran, Mrs. M. W., Dramatics....................................Birmingham, Michigan Cormany, Mary Ellen, B. S., Social Studies.............................Tulsa, Oklahoma Damerel, Mrs. William A., B.S., Director of Admissions.................Freeport, Illinois Emery, Grace, B. S., Pianoforte...................................Birmingham, Michigan Fredericks, Marshall M., Ceramics............................Bloomfield Hills, Michigan Fry, Grace, B. A., M. A., Mathematics, Director of Studies . Bloomfield Hills, Michigan Harvey, Campbell, M. D., Physician...................................Pontiac, Michigan Hill, E. W„ B. A., M. S. M., Music...........................Bloomfield Hills, Michigan Holm, Mrs. Lillian, Wearing............................................Malen, Sweden Houser, Luella C, B. S., Physical Education......................Lenox, Massachusetts Jones, Mary Pauline, B. A., French. English, German . . Clarks Summit, Pennsylvania LeLoupp, Mlle. Marthe, B. A., M. A., French....................Benodet, Finistere, France Lovell, Margaret, Dean of Residence........................... Scranton, Pennsylvania Power, Mrs. Eugene, B. A., M. S., Student Advisor...................Ann Arbor, Michigan Reese, Frances, B. A., M. A., French...................................Wooster, Ohio Reynolds, Mrs. Frank W., B. A., Director of Study Hall . . . Birmingham, Michigan Rice, Mrs. William R., A. B., Mathematics....................Bloomfield Hills, Michigan Ryder, Maud G., B. S., M. S., Dietitian..............................Lincoln, Nebraska Schultz, William, Jr.. B. S. E., (E. E.), M. S., Ed., Physics . Bloomfield Hills. Michigan Smith, Helen H., B. A., M. S., Science........................Kingston, Rhode Island Steere, Mary Louise, B. A., B. A. L. S-, Librarian..................Ann Arbor, Michigan Trantum, Elizabeth, B. S., Home Economics, Chemistry .... Brooklyn, New York Waldo, Josephine H., B. A., M. A., English......................... Riverside, Illinois Evans, Diantha D., B. A., Latin.........................................Rome, New York 2fV p vy 2 P£ 2 ? S£ 2 y 2£ ? p □Etrtt oiANrv Booth area BrOVUN ETTY CAMfOfi.HjG.UO ClOCNr r4, M AHV TMHf- ICoOPCW ,HAlMM Y iCOROUS.MAAJWtT |UtSS , HARRIET lOOAH onOtMX IbVAm ,CATHftRMve 'Frawk RO Aue IfteilMAN, MTHWfii IkoiOEN ,°olMlie iMooOjTRiEttiTe ILawch ,1 1 Ij-ECOtR , OoKoTHY IU.V410 ,prtr IMCC,RS 0� ' HC.T lO QUA ,TAA IPARRCRjAnn' 'Pru% ,66A1A«' iPfCHL AaGAi Jmu(UI ,7EAriH UtPptT,HC:ltn BMAltAHEY.H � U OV � S (NANCl1 II0U.H%) |Ol% DOROTHY DOAN Afternoon mail, “Clair de Lune, rings and “Chanel No. 5” we associate with Honey. Nobody could have known a better class president than we have, nor a grander girl. Hnimd j6 Red Cross Chairman ’36; Sophomore Class Presi- dent, Tennis Tournament Committee ’37; Christmas Play, “Kingdom of God’’ ’38; Junior Play, “Mrs. Harper’s Bazaar” ’39; Dance Committee ’39; Fenc- ing Team ’39; Study Hall Committee ’39; Glee Club ’39, ’40; Senior Class President; Student Coun- cil ’40; Senior Play, “The Comedy of Errors-’’ Knit- ting Club; Gold Team. 1018 West Main Street Midland, Michigan [ ] CLASS PRESIDENT, BARBARA BOOTH We’re certainly glad Boofus” came back this year. She’s a “wow” at sports and has the smoothest husky voice! You rarely see her without the rest of the trio of Mc- Gregor and Duffield. Much is the fun they make. E:ntrrcd ’35, Reentered ’39 Glee Club '40; Alhlelie Council ’40; Basketball Club ’40; Blue Team. Tower Cottage. Cranbrook Bloomfield Hills, Michigan BETTY BROWN Brownie’s never failing sense of humor has added much merriment to all Senior activities, and her unofficial job as “errand girl” for the boarders has made her a favorite. Hntcrcd '34 Varsity Soccer ’36; Varsity Basketball ’36; Junior Play. “The Chimney Corner ' “Woodwinds Snap- shot Editor; Christmas Play. “The Tree” ’39; Senior Play, Comedy of Errors f Bridge Club; Gold Team. Nicolet Road Bloomfield Hills, Michigan [«] MARY JANE CLOONAN Who is that flashing down Lone Pine in a snappy blue convertible? None other than Mary Jane, our own ex- ponent of the Brooks sweater and latest styles. Entered ’j6 Class Staetary 'jy; Junior Play. Romance, lnc.n '39; Art Club '39, ’40; Woodwinds Art Editor; Senior Play, Comedy of Errors ' Knitting Club; Blue Team. 60 Ottawa Drive Pontiac, Michigan HARRIET COOPER In study hall and classes Harriet sends us in the aisle with her unconscious humor. “Woman’s work is never done, she sighed, having just finished her algebra and about to go to work on the Senior play. Entered ’37 Glee Club ’38; Junior Play, The Chimney Corner Art Club '39, ’40; Christmas Play, The Tree ’39; Senior Play, “Comedy of Errors{' Clarion” Staff ’40; Gold Team. 1536 Chicago Boulevard Detroit, Michigan [13] HARRIET CORBUS Crazy and cute, Hattie will long be remembered for her smooth dancing. She's a great asset to the Annual staff and to the humor in the dorm.” Entmd ’j8 Junior Class Treasurer; Junior Play Manager; Library Staff ’40; Senior Play. Comedy of Errors;’’ Clar- ion” Literary Editor; Woodwinds” Assistant Liter- ary Editor; Student Couneil ’40; Bridge Club; Gold Team. 325 Union Avenue, S. E. Grand Rapids, Michigan HARRIETT CRESS “Sis” is Kingswood's own version of A. A. Milne’s Piglet” with a dash of Edna St. Vincent Millay thrown in. We’ll never forget her St. Joe papers, her rings, nor her “Fine” romances. Entered ’39 Glee Club ’39; Library Staff; Christmas Play, The Tree;” Senior Play. Comedy of Errors?’ Clarion” Staff; Dramaties Club; Gold Team. 391 Ridgeway Street St. Joseph, Michigan C«4] CATHERINE EVANS A person of varied interests is Catherine, who rides, weaves, speaks German fluently, and has traveled widely. Many thanks to an efficient class secretary. Entered ’36 Glee Club '38; Junior Play, “Mrs. Harper t Bazaar;” Clast Secretary '40; Bridge Club; Gold Team. 31615 Evergreen Road, R. F. D. No. 1 Birmingham, Michigan ROSALIE FRANK “Rosie” plays the piano with “wim and wigor” and is always at it. She’s our eager and sympathetic friend who's never too busy to throw some of her good ideas into the fray. Entered ’36 Junior play, “Mrs. Harper’s Bazaar;” Senior Play, “Comedy of Errors1’ “Clarion” Staff; Knitting Club; Blue Team. 2692 West Long I-ake Road Pine Lake Pontiac, Michigan («53 KATHRYN HEILMAN An addition to our ranks this year, Hedy’s” quiet ap- pearance belies her “screw-ball” nature. Remember her dancing with Peanut in the contest? Entered ’39 Senior Play, “Comedy of Error si’ Knitting Club; Gold Team. Cranbrook and Quarton Roads Bloomfield Hills, Michigan SALLIE HOLDEN Sal’s poise and sophistication are only two of her attri- butes. Her business-like attitude and ability to get things done have added much to our class this year. Entered ’38 Junior Study Hall Staff; Junior Play, “Mrs. Harper’s Bazaar;” Library Staff ’40; Christmas Play, “The Tree?’ Senior Play. “Comedy of Errorsf “Clarion” Business Manager; “Woodwinds” Assistant Busi- ness Manager; Dance Committee ’40; Bridge Club. Rhodora Acres Eaton Rapids, Michigan [,6] TRIENTJE HOOD Our popular little athlete to whom the formula, “like everyone and they’ll like you,” certainly applies. Hailing from the fair state of Connecticut, Trientj” has added much to Kingswood by her pep and good spirit. Entered ’j8 Junior Play Stage Manager; Study Hall Committee ’39; Senior Play, “Comedy of Errors?’ Student Couneil ’40; Basketball Club ’40; Varsity Basketball ’39, ’4°! Tennis '39, ’40; Captain Blue Team '40; Bridge Club; Blue Team. Southfield Point Stamford, Connecticut LYLA LANDIS Are You From Dixie?, school spirit, dark eyes and hair, ••Tigger’’ and many of our best memories of Kingswood remind us of Lyla. Entered ’j8 “Clarion Staff ’39; Dance Committee ’39; May Day Committee ’39; Study Hall Committee ’39; Junior Play, “Figureheads; Student Couneil ’39, ’40; Glee Club ’39, ’40; Senior Play “Comedy of Errors?’ “Woodwinds”Editor-in-chief; Captain of Gold Team ’40; Varsity Basketball ’39; Varsity Hockey '39; Knitting Club; Gold Team. 244 West New York Avenue De Lind, Florida [«7] DOROTHY LEEDER Dorothy is one of those people who do a lot of un- glorified jobs that are very important. We expect great things of our excellent stage-manager and good friend. Encrrtd ’j7 Glee Club ’}?. ’38; Junior Play Stage Manager; Chriftmaf Play, “The Tree” '39; Senior Play Stage Manager; Wearing Club; Gold Team. 18694 Oak Drive Detroit, Michigan PAT LEWIS Actress, athlete, editor, and our frequent representative at Ganbrook is our “Lew.” Kingswood’s come to depend on her more every year. What’ll we do without her? Entrnd ’j7 Junior Vice-president; Junior Play, “The Dragon;” Junior Play, “The Chimney Corner;” Dance Com- mittee '39; Student Council '39; Glee Club '39; Senior Play, “Comedy of Errors;” “Clarion” Editor ’40; “ Woodwinds” Literary Editor; Dormitory Pres- ident ’40; Dramatics Club '40; Varsity Tennis ’38, '39; Hockey ’39, ’40: Basketball ’38, ’39, ’40; Blue Team. 725 Oxford Road Ann Arbor. Michigan [,8] janet McGregor Our very attractive Vice-president is one of the most enjoyable people we’ve met. New this year, Jan has added much to the school life by her constant merriment and subtle humor. Entered ’)� Vice-president of Senior Class; Senior Play, Com- edy of ErrorsRiding dub; Gold Team. 414 Arlington Birmingham, Michigan ANN PARKER The class cut-up is “Peanut. She’s much at home on the stage, on the athletic field, and in the class room. A gracious hostess, too! Entered '34 Class Treasurer ’38; Junior Play, Mrs. Harper’s Bazaar; Athletic Council ’39; Senior Play, Comedy of Errors Woodwinds” Sports Editor; Varsity Basketball ’38, ’39, ’40; Hockey ’38, ’39, ’40; Base- ball ’38, ’39, ’40; Bridge Club ’40; Blue Team. 640 Lakeside [Drive Birmingham, Michigan C«9] BEATRICE PAUL Bea has the most glorious mass of bronze hair and most marvellous laugh! Her philosophic and sympathic ways have attracted us all. Would that we had such a devoted brother as Bea’s. Entered ’j? Senior Play, Comedy of Errors?’ Knitting Club; Blue Team. 505 East Ridge Street Marquette, Michigan BARBARA PFOHL Though she looks exactly like a little doll. Barbie is as capable as anyone we know, as is shown by the flourish- ing DO-ALL Company and her work on the Annual staff. Entered ’j8 Junior Play, “Figureheads{’ Glee Club '39, ’40; Library Staff ’40; Senior Play, Comedy of Errors;’’ “Woodwinds” Photographic Editor; Danee Commit- tee ’40; Riding Club; Blue Team. R. F. D. No. 2 Bradford, Pennsylvania [20] JEANNE SHUELL Pearls, tweeds, and “Hey, Brownie” arc reminiscent of jeannie, who has kept a pretty tight and efficient hand on the purse strings this year as our treasurer. Entered ’} Clan President ’33, ’36; Captain of Blue Team ’36; Varsity Baseball ’36; Soeeer ’36; Basketball ’36; junior Play Staff; Varsity Tennis ’39. '40; Senior Treasurer '30; Senior Play Staff; Woodwinds Business Manager; Bridge Club; Blue Team. Brooknoll, I-one Pine Road Bloomfield Hills, Michigan HELEN TIPPETT Tip” is one of our smoothest day girls, who always seems to be going out Ann Arbor way. Her charm of being interested in everyone should take her far. Her angora sweaters and Florida tan are famous. Entered 'yj Dance Committee '39, '40; Bridge Club. 477 Lake Park Drive Birmingham, Michigan M HARRIET WALMSLEY Subtle humor personified is Harriet. Her fine acting ability was notable, especially that in the Senior play. And who can forget her in Romance, Inc.”? Entered ’j8 junior Play, Romance, Inc.; Glee Club ’) f, ’40; Senior Play, “Comedy of Errorsf' Weaving Club. 210 Waddington Road Birmingham, Michigan LOIS JEAN YOUNG As our own sophisticated class baby, “L. J.” has shown us that her minority in years doesn’t count. Having spent most of the year under plaster, through hard work she’s finally come out on top! And she’s tops with us too! Emmd }8 Junior Play, “Chimney Corner;” junior Play Direc- tor of “Romance, Inc.;” Bridge Club; Gold Team. Lake Fenton Fenton, Michigan POST GRADUATES DIANA BEEBE Diana’s gift for music is something we all enjoy and envy. She plays the piano and the harp, and the orchestra couldn’t get along without her. Her grand friendliness and cheerful smile are something special. Entered 'j9 Orchestra; Senior Play House Committee; Gold Team. 1473 Oalcwood, Sylvan Lake Pontiac, Michigan GLAD CAMPBELL “Glad,’’ our own little furriner,” certainly lives up to her name. Skiing, kilts, long red stockings, and “Oh, Canada will always remind us of her, plus her weekly excursions to the Art Academy. Entered '59 Glee Club ’40; Library Staff '40; Christmas Play. “The Tree1” ’40; Senior Play. “Comedy of Errorsf’ “Clarion” Assistant Editor; “Woodwinds” Assistant Art Editor; Bridge Club; Blue Team. Edgewood, Richmond Street Windsor, Ontario C jJ JANET OSBORN A newcomer this year, “Ozzie” has shown herself to be loads of fun and a lot of help on the “Clarion” staff. She is also one of our more enthusiastic weavers. Entered 'j9 Senior Play, “Comedy of Errors ’ Clarion Staff. 911 Prospect Street Sault Ste. Marie, Michigan NANCY WORKS Nance is one of our peppier girls whose “Oh, Fell” echoing down the hall will be missed next year. Shiny hair, “Doggie,” Hinsdale, and Nancy arc inseparable. Entered ’j9 Senior Play, “Comedy of Errors ’ Bridge Club; Blue Team. 130 East First Street Hinsdale, Illinois SOLILOQUY OF A FAILURE Now from the far-off hills I hear the hark And frenzied yelp of hounds, hot on the trail Of some elusive prey; while close behind, Their masters, brave in red coats, gallop hard. I, too, might once have ridden quarry down. But in my youth, the school room seemed more safe. So I stayed home, never daring more To do than study Latin, play at work, And wave to braver ones off to the hunt, And nightly listen, breathless, to their tales. Long years have come and gone, long years too calm. Since, fearing life, I chose the sheltered way, I wait, with dread, for age's fading years. Now, suddenly, I hate my quiet past And wish that in the time when I had strength I’d ridden over damp green hills at dawn Instead of staying warm, out of the wind. Harriett Cress MY SELVES I looked INTO space thoughtfully, and then dangerously near my hair a left eyebrow slowly wended its way. It gave me, I thought, a rather pensive appearance. Then I spoke, in deep husky tones, and gazed sorrowfully about me. I was Marlene Dietrich to a T”. Or didn't you know? Yesterday I was gay, the typical personality girl. What will I be like tomorrow? What am I really like underneath all those exterior affectations? It would be very difficult to probe inside to explore; I would be too apt to find myself entangled in a net of conflicting personalities, none my own. Perhaps too, I am a little afraid of what lies so far underneath. I might find a self very little like any I have ever known. I wonder. Do other people absorb and affect thoughts and mannerisms not their own? As I sit thinking, my hand steals upward and runs carelessly through long, jet black hair. I rise gracefully and glide out of die room, an excellent imitation of Hedy Lamarr. Janet MeGregor THE MODEL KINGSWOOD GIRL I had a dream the other night That seemed so real and true. That I was a model Kings wood girl. It thrilled me through and through. That I woke up at seven on the dot, With a happy morning smile, That my clothes lay ready on a chair In a very orderly pile. I combed my hair and powdered my nose. Even got my breakfast down In ample time to study my French And master every noun. I got to school at eight-fifteen, Feeling very studious, too; And returned a book to the library Before it was even due. In assembly I listened attentively, For my current events were read; And I sang with a gusto seldom heard From one who’d just tumbled from bed. My rendition of Virgil was really the tops; And though all the class was surprised In history I knew each explorer by name And where he had colonized. When I heard there were cookies and chocolate milk For recess, although I was glad, I walked like a lady and waited my turn, And only one helping I had. I had extra time during study hall, For I was two days ahead in my work; So I finished my outside reading for French. It would never do to shirk. I jumped right up and went to sports, When I heard the school bell ring. We were having modem dancing that day, And I wanted to be in the swing. But alas! and alack! another bell rang! I opened my eyes in the gloom, And saw I had just five minutes to dress In a cold and darkened room. Harriet Cooper MEMORIES What are the things our senior year will recall? Why—the ultra-exclusiveness of our own study hall, Myriad white moccasins and long pig tails, Having tea--a kick that never fails. Gone With the Wind” and “Hello, Joe, The rush to modern dancing was very slow. Attending the Cass and eating at Sanders, Towards Fox and Hounds” ye Senior wanders, High socks and lots of junk jewelry, The Senior play and rehearsal tom foolery, Picnics in the gym and the coined noun, guff,’’ Brooks, saddle shoes, and such perennial stuff, Cur extra week-end and six hours too, Dam That Dream” and “Do I Love You,” Glen Miller’s band and All the Things You Are,” The ring ceremony and the Senior tea, The June formal and class day prophecy. Then graduation, mingled tears and laughter - These things we’ll remember for ever arter! Lyla Landis Dorothy Doan DEATH She couldn’t BELIEVE it! In fact it was almost impossible that only this morning Ronnie had been here beside her, and now he was dead! At first she didn't believe that strange voice over the phone which told her they had him in the receiving hospital, but when Dad had rushed home from the office to console her she knew it was all the truth. Slowly Alice opened the door to the back porch and stepped out into the early spring dusk. The air was musty with the smell of fresh earth; a few birds were still humming. But Alice, unconscious of the surroundings, walked slowly along the path to the river, the path which so many times she and Ronnie had taka together. Spring evenings just like this. He always seemed to understand her moods, and together they would walk in silence along the shaded pathway, now and then stopping to examine some new flower or a fallen bird’s nest. She tried to imagine how it would be next winter without him to skirt the icy river with her, looking for rabbits’ tracks, or how, when summer came, she would miss him swimming beside her in the swirling waters. She remembered, also, the time he saved her from going over the rapids to the rocks below. “This must be what it’s like to die,” she thought. “Part of me is dead, I know—part of me went with Ronnie this morning, but I won’t cry. He never did like that. Even the day I cut my finger, I could tell by the way he looked at me that he didn't like any tears. Maybe he’s happier than he ever was with me. Oh, I hope not. No, I don’t mean that; I mean I hope he was happy with me. Lord knows I’ve always tried to please him; that’s what happens when you're good to someone. They die or leave you, or something! So why should I be good to anyone anymore? That scales it! I’ll be as mean as I can! Look what happened to Ronnie! Oh, dear, but I wish he were here now. He’d understand how I feel. He always did and never tried to argue. But I won’t cry. If I can just try to think of something else, some place where he’s never been. But I can’t. He’s always been with me. Even the time when mother sent me abroad without him, he sneaked in through the port hole. That was funny, but this isn’t funny—this isn’t funny at all. It’s sad. and now I suppose I’ll have to go to the funeral. That will kill me! I absolutely refuse to go. I won’t see any oP minister throw dirt on my Ronnie. I won’t . ■ •. ” “Why, Alice! What are you doing down here all alone? It’s getting dark and supper has been ready for two hours. “Oh, mother, what am I going to do about Ronnie? wailed Alice. “I miss him so.” Don’t worry, honey, consoled Mrs. Smith. “Daddy brought you a new dog home tonight. They say he’s some sort of a relation to Ronnie. Second cousin or something. Anyway, he’s just darling. I’m sure you’ll love him!” Pal Lewis 1955 A. D. Scene—Fox Hounds Time—1955 Characters—Lewis and Cress Lewis: The place hasn’t changed a bit. It looks just the same as it did the last time we were here. By the way, what is Sallic doing now? Cress: She has a big job in Flint hanging balloons for all the Junior Proms. Lewis: Speaking of Flint, I read in the papers the other day that Lois Jean’s little son just had a birthday party, but L. J. wouldn't let the guests sing “Happy Birthday.” Remember how she used to hate it at Kingswood? Cress: Yes—oh, by the way, have you heard about Campbell? Lewis: No—last I heard she’d joined the Canadian Mounted Police, and you know their motto - • • • Cress: No! The latest is she’s taken a lovely home in Ann Arbor right next to your old one. Lewis: Really? I imagine she’ll be seeing auite a lot of Tippett then. They say she’s taken up permanent residence there, waiting for her husband to graduate. Cress: Ozzie and Bea are joint presidents of the Society for the Prevention of Peeping Toms in Marquette. Lewis: Ha, ha! Ozzie’s been that way ever since she saw the little man who wasn't there. Cress: Have you heard? Trientje’s singing over the air on the Wheaties Program now. Lewis: I always knew she should have been in the Glee Club. I wonder if she still has her Cranbrook ring? Cress: No, don’t you remember? She put that in the hat when we took up that collection to send Cooper to China to interview Confucius. Lewis: Poor Cooper! She never did come back. I wonder what happened. Cress: Last I heard was that Brownie was over there to look into the “picture-bride situation, and saw Cooper sitting on Confucius’ tomb. Lewis: Speaking of tombs, I hear Lyla finally got to the Military Ball. Have you seen her lately? Cress: Oh, yes! She’s the new star in White’s new Broadway hit “Arc You From Dixie? Lewis: Oh, I remember—Honey told me about that when I was up visiting her. She’s house- mother at Williams now. you know. Cress: And did you know about Works? She’s head of the Hinsdale Ladies' Temperance Union. Cress: Oh, no! I thought it was the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Doggies. Cress: No, she gave that up long ago. Lewis: Have you tried the new Beebe Cosmetics yet? They say her brand of fire-engine lipstick is scientifically guaranteed not to show. Cress: That reminds me. Corbus is teaching History at Cranbrook now. She couldn't seem to leave the old place. Lewis: Speaking of History, did you hear about Booth?- She endowed a whole new History Reference Library to Kingswood. Remember how that used to be her favorite hangout? [30] Cress: McGregor and Parker are running a grocery service for boarders next to Kingswood. Lewis: I hear that “Hedy” Heilman finally got her job with M. G. M. and is working quite hard on her new picture “Fargo Wells,” directed by Barbara Pfohl. Cress: Yes, Barbie always was a good little manager -and Rosalie’s out there too, collecting toll at the Golden Gate. Lewis: Guess she must be waiting for Cooper to come back. Cress: I hear Harriet Walmslcy hasn't been the same since she took over the government’s job of averaging tariff rates for the next fifty years. Lewis: That makes me think. Since Goonan’s the president’s wife, you know, they say the Senators are all wearing Brooks sweaters. Cress: No wonder the national debt has gone up so high lately. Lewis: Catherine Evans is riding in Rodeos now as champion bronco buster—Can’t you just see her? Cress: Well, I guess we’ve just about covered everyone now. Wish we could see the old class again. Lewis: Wait, how about Dorothy Leeder? I haven't heard a thing about her since she went to San Francisco to search for Cooper. Cress: No, neither have I. Poor Cooper—I hope they find her soon. Lewis: Well, Cress, I’m getting hungry. What say we order a steak dinner and stop all this reminiscing? Cress: Still the same, Lew, aren’t you? O. K. Let’s have French fries and brussel sprouts. Pat Isvit Harriett Cress [J«] GRAMPA WARD Grampa Ward was a janitor. Everyone in the school and vicinity called him Grampa Ward. No one knew exactly why, and no one cared. He had always been called Grampa Ward and that seemed sufficient reason. Being the only janitor in a rural school with eight grades and six teachers is no small task. It is a job that calls for someone who is capable of doing anything the occasion demands. Grampa Ward s job was a yearly one. During the summer the lawn was always in trim shape, and the school beamed with cleanliness and new paint in the fall. I never knew exactly what else he did in the summer time, but when lunch buckets and books were again brought out he was to be found at die school door smiling cheerfully at all who greeted him, and giving an affectionate pat and word to those so small first graders to whom the world had become so empty and full all at once. Never was there a busier man than Grampa Ward. It was he who after some P. T. A. meet- ing or social gathering at the school went around to see that all the classroom clocks were wound, the doors locked, and the lights out. It was he who took the place of the starched and stiff nurse, now found in schools, when someone had a headache or scratch on the knee. No matter how large or small the ailment, there was always relief in Grampa Ward’s first aid box and sympathy. Tending the furnace, cleaninc the classrooms, burning the garbage, and oiling the floors were a matter of routine in his life. The countless other favors he did for people he did quietly and inconspicuously. One was never conscious that he was hurried or rushed in any way. I believe very few people realized for that reason the tremendous total of tilings he accomplished daily. When the early part of June came around, the eighth grade that was to graduate began to count the gains and losses graduation day would bring. You can be sure they sincerely felt what a hard life they were going to lead in high school when they had no Grampa Ward on whom to heap all their joys and sorrows. But youngsters arc fickle, and on graduation night when they left school with hopes for the future making their eyes sparkle, I wonder how many of them thought about Grampa Ward who was still at school seeing the clocks were wound, the doors locked, and the lights out. Barbara Pfohl SPRING HOUSE-CLEANING In THE spring a housewife’s fancy seriously turns to thoughts of house-cleaning. I hope my reader does not object to the slight variation of Tennyson’s famous lines. This domestic purification seems to me one of the necessary evils that accompanies the joyous spring season. Books and rugs must be removed while that remote bit ofi dust that has been hibernating all winter in some far comer is finally whisked brutally away. Windows must be immodestly stripped of adornment and remain in this uncomfortable state until their only suit of clothing returns from the laundry. We find elegant living room pieces mixing democratically with step ladders and work benches. Dining room, sun room, and library furniture all congregate in the hallway for their annual reunion. When pictures come down, the walls become sullen. The whole house takes on a gloomy air like the morning after. However, it is not long before everything comes back to normal. The home is thoroughly revivified and greets a gay spring with freshness and vitality. It is like the girl who, after she has removed the messy grease from her face and let down her hair from tight curlers, can go to the party confident that her beauty is decidedly enhanced. M Harriet Cooper SUSPENSE Perhaps there were a dozen thoroughly frightened little girls waiting miserably. They were all dressed in similar costumes. Each bore the same air of grim determination, touched with a real fear. Their youth showed itself pitifully helpless as their doom approached nearer. One child nervously worked her jaw up and down, swallowing painfully at intervals. Another wiped her perspiring palms meticulously. The frock nearest the end of die line heaved up and down uneasily with each agonized gasp of its occupant. The crowd waited tensely. With averted eyes it occupied itself with trivial movements, trying not to think of the torture to come. One young mother bravely glanced at the young victims, but quickly turned back to her husband's carefully casual countenance. The thought was apparent in her eyes, “What if one of those little things were my own baby?” The silence was broken by occasional coughs and the relentless tick of the clock. At last there came a deeper hush, while a tall angular figure ascended the platform. Looking intently at the line of quivering young faces, then, into the assembled people’s faces and back again at the youngsters, in a terrible voice, it said, “Mary Jane Kingsly will be first to execute her piece upon the piano, in our recital this evening.” Jantt Osborn START THE DAY RIGHT Oh. but it's cold and dark when that first bell rings at 7:00 a. m. on a February morning! I open one eye and shut it and decide to lie in bed until 7:15. Did ever fifteen minutes pass more quickly and was the world ever more dark and cold? I try to ctqss the room to shut the window without opening my eyes completely and trip on a fold in the rug in the process. It looks as if it’s going to be one of those bad days. I can tell already. The window is stuck open, and it takes several hard knocks with the heel of my slipper to induce it to close. Thor- oughly frozen by this time and grimly trying to face the reality of what seems a dull and forbidding day, I wash my face and hands (the soap slips from my hands to the floor no less than three times) and grope for my clothes. One minute left to get to breakfast on time and my shoe-lace would have to break. Kicking the shoes off, I hurriedly put on some moccasins and run down the hall to the dining room. How disgustingly bright and cheery everything looks here! How happy and peppy all the girls seem and how perfectly groomed and ready for the day! I look down at my beer-jacket and socks that don’t match and feel ashamed. As we sit down at the table, I swear that here- after I will always get up at the 7:00 o’clock bell, take a nice long, invigorating cold shower and appear at breakfast all combed and brushed and powdered for die day. But wait—hasn't dial resolution a familiar ring? Oh, yes, I know now. It’s what I’ve been repeating resolutely every morning at breakfast this whole winter! M Dorothy Doan THE MESSENGER Judy Allen? Sure I know her! Practically brought her up after her mother died. That was, lemme see, ten years ago, Judy was ten—she’ll be twenty this year. A right pretty gal, and lots a’ spunk, too. Why, I remember when Judy was seventeen—tall, and long-limbed like a colt, with somethin’ clean about her. You know the way girls are at seventeen—long hair the color of taffy, that used to sparkle like gold in the sun, and wide blue eyes. Used to 'mind me of the bay waters in the summer—just like her mother, Peg Allen, used to look. Well, long about August that year, Judy was a goner for Chuck Pierce, one of the nicest kids I’ve ever knowed, spite of what the old tabbies in town used to say about his wild livin’. But I always maintain, a youngster’s a better one to sow his wild oats than an old man like me. So Judy really was gone on him. And him on her too, far as I could see. Lord, every day you’d see ’em together, sailin’, playin’ tennis, or just together. And nights they’d ride in Chuck’s car or walk, ’specially when it rained—Judy always liked walkin’ in the rain. Yep, they was always together--a great pair of kids. Funny thing, though, with all his livin' outdoors, Chuck weren’t never very strong. Oh, I’ll warrant he looked tough as a bull with them shoulders and that tan. But he’d always be tired 'way before Judy, and had a funny look around his mouth sometimes, little white lines. Well, about two years ago, that was in thirty-eight, I think—anyway it was gossip around town that Chuck Pierce was goin’ to die of T. B. if he didn’t go to a sanatorium right away for a good long cure. ’Course that meant he wouldn’t be able to support a wife for three years at least, and him and Judy had been dead set on gettin’ married that spring. Well, it pretty near broke Judy’s heart to think of sayin’ goodbye to Chuck, but she couldn't do nodiin’ else. Too bad it had to happen then - • - But, say, mister, I been runnin’ on like an old fool, never askin’ what you wanted. Where does Judy Allen live now? Well, up there on King’s Landing Hill, only she ain’t Judy Allen no more. Nope—she married Chuck just ’fore he left for the sanitorium, two years ago, come this August, and he’s due back in a year. She’s been workin’ like a trooper to have everythin' ready for him, spick and span. I always said Judy had spunk. Why, beg pardon, sir, I didn’t think to tell you—thanks fer remindin’ me of my manners. I’m Mr. Allen. What’s your name? Mr. Fiske from Pinewood Sanitorium? You what? Looking for Judy? What! Chuck won’t ever come back? . . . Yes, sir . . . I’ll tell her myself—she might take it better that way. Harriett Cress C}6] UNDERCLASSMEN GONE No ONE knew who had taken Miss Augur’s dessert. It had been a fleecy lemon pie, just lightly browned on top when it appeared from the kitchen and was placed in front of her. Then it disappeared. Of course it had no name tape, and thus was too difficult to find. Shortly after this a student's toy cat with electric eyes was among the missing. Once more there was no name tape, so what could be done about it? Then there was a sudden shortage of silver in the dining room, and every single thumb tack from the Bulletin Board disappeared, two or three of which were found in very odd places. That was the end, the “straw that broke the camel’s back.” Our despondent faculty congealed into one of diose mysterious faculty meetings. “Members of the faculty,” said the chairman, “you all know too well what we are here to discuss this evening.” They wisely nodded their heads and looked even more solemn. “Yes, indeed, we know.” I have asked Senator Bret Rutler, who is visiting us from Alabama, to say a few words. Senator?” “Deah members of the Faculty,” said he in a soft Southern voice. “A1� realize how this pre- sent catastrophe has affected you all, and ah do wish ah could do something to aid you and thank you all for the pleasure of visiting your beautiful school. Everybody has been so kind co me, and your girls do nave such takin’ ways. Ah do think ...” He was interrupted by a knock. Come in.” “Madam Chairman,” gasped a boarder, much overcome by the solemnity of the room, “some- thing awful has happened in the art room.” “Yes, what is it?” “The wall is gone!” “Wall gone? Such nonsense. Come, what do you mean? First diere were just a few bricks missing from the corner, and when I came back from dinner, the whole wall was gone!” The faculty solemnly marched over to verify the statement. Not only one wall, but all four were missing. “Yes, indeed,” said the faculty, “we knew it was serious. They filed back to their silent room to study the mystery. They were all ouiet and thoughtful except Senator Rutler who seemed to have misplaced his watch. A knock was heard at the door. “Come in.” Madam Chairman,” said the same over-awed-boarder, “something awful has happened in the dorm!” “Yes, what is it?” “The walls are gone! “The walls gone? Such nonsense. Come. We shall see.” “Yes, indeed, said the faculty wisely nodding their heads and looking even more solemn, “we knew it was serious.” They marched to the dormitory and found it was no more. Precisely at eight the next morning, Kingswood's first sleepy day student drove in the gate, and as she was indulging in a last sleepy yawn her half closed eyes flew open with surprise; she clutched the cold steering wheel and closed her mouth with a snap. There lay Kingswood’s beautiful grounds . . . but no school! Every single brick and stone was gone, with just one exception. The walls of the faculty room gleamed triumphantly through the dawn, and around the tables sat the faculty. Yes, indeed, said the faculty, wisely nodding their heads, and looking even more solemn, We knew it was serious.” Ada Ward J. Brooker, R. Royal. P. McMath. M. Pease. J. McCombs. M. Fell. D. Duffield. M. McMath. M. Appel, J. Farrell M. Bard, C. John, A. Ward, M. Krejci, P. Johnson, J. A. Poller, M. Wilson J. Raseman, M. Weed, B. Finsterwald, R. Cole, M. Maynard, J. Eeker, G. Raquet ELEVENTH GRADE Appel, Maxine.................Route 5, Pontiac, Mich. Bard, Marilyn . 18974 Fairfield Ave., Detroit, Mich. Brooker, Joy . 420 Waddington Rd., Birmingham, Mich. Cole, Roberta ... 37 Ottawa Dr., Pontiac, Mich. Duffield, Dorothy Lone Pine Rd., Bloomfield Hills, Mich. Ecker, Janet . . 1302 S. Genesee Dr., Lansing, Mich. Farrell, Janet . 325 Wellesley Dr., Birmingham, Mich. Fell, Martha .... Route 2, Battle Geek, Mich. Finsterwald, Barbara 1147 Chicago Blvd., Detroit, Mich. John, Conco . 556 Tooting Lane, Birmingham, Mich. Johnson, Pat . . 29 Superior Blvd., Wyandotte, Mich. Krejci, Mari eta . . Beverly Hills, Birmingham, Mich. McCombs, Jean . 19401 Canterbury Rd., Detroit, Midi. McMath, Madeline . Lake Angelus R. 4, Pontiac, Mich. McMath, Peggy . Lone Pine Rd., Bloomfield Hills, Mich. Maynard, Mary . . 15967 Avon Rd., Detroit, Mich. Mendelson, Doris . 1941 Balmoral Dr., Detroit, Mich. Pease, Madeleine 1251 Buckingham Rd., Birmingham, Mich. Potter, Jean Alice . 860 Rivenoak, Birmingham, Mich. Raquet, Gloria Pon Valley Rd., Box 263, Birmingham, Mich. Raseman, Jean 3 Academy Rd., Bloomfield Hills, Mich. Royal, Ruth Sylvan Shores-Route 5, Pontiac, Mich. Ward, Ada . . . 295 W. Huron St., Pontiac, Mich. Weed, Marjorie.....................Orchard Lake, Mich. Wilson, Muriel . 18261 Fairfield Ave., Detroit, Mich. [� ] ETTA KETT Dear Mrs. Post: My house is small in comparison to the others in this swanky neighborhood. My parents arc in Siam, so I intend to have the run of the house. (I am sixteen.) The dining room is 12' by 12'. Due to the lack of space I thought of having a buffet supper. The number of guests would not exceed seventy-six. We have only seven card tables, and need eleven more. Since this is to be a surprise party, I don’t want to borrow anyone else’s. We couldn’t possibly get along with- out using card tables as there will be a conglomeration of silver, plates and glasses. I have hired an extra couple to help clear and serve. After dinner we will retire for dancing to the basement. I am in a quandary as to what to have for dessert. It should be new, exciting, different and dclecublc- “Extremely Worried’’ P. S. The dining room has a blue ceiling, green walls and an oriental yellow carpet with purple flowers worked onto it. I want the dessert to match this color scheme. N. B. My parents may be back before it is over. Dear “Extremely Worried:” The card table problem is easily solved. If you explain your problem to “The Card Tables 6C Covers, Cocktail Tables, End Tables, Breakfast Table, and Any Other Table Loan Com- pany, I am sure they can help you. The dessert took some thought, but I advise having a Fruit Plop. Use any varied colored fruits you want. Plop them on top of the sticky mass composed of dough, flavoring, water, sugar, corn starch and egg. I’m sure it will be different if not tasty. Sincerely, Mrs. Post P. S. I hope your parents don’t come home too soon and have an enjoyable trip. (Marilyn Austin) Dear Mrs. Post: I am most upset about the whole affair. Just recently I was invited to a formal dinner party of the Vanderlux. One of the guests, who was a singer, was asked to entertain us with some of her enchanting songs. We, as the audience, turned our chairs toward the pianist and her, thus seating ourselves as in a theater. I happened to be in front. In the middle of La Boheme, unconsciously fussing with my hair, I came upon a curler in the back of my head which was in such a position that it was apparent to all who were seated in back of me. Now Mrs. Post, should I have removed the curler or left it as it was and excused myself after the performance to take it out then? Sincerely Mrs. S. My dear Mrs. S.: I’m sure your situation caused great embarrassment within you. If you had fumbled around, unfastening the curler, the people in back of you, who had not seen it as yet, would be called to the attention of it. And then again, the ones who had already seen it, would have giggled at the fact of your finding a curler in your hair in view of everyone at an elaborate dinner party. But on the other hand, if you had left it in your locks, I’m sure you would have heard a great deal of whispering behind you as everyone was pointing out the shining silver object in your hair. As you did not mention in your letter what you did in this predicament, all I can say is: when you step out of your house, be sure you have on a high collar to hide your implements of feminine beauty. Yours truly, Mrs. Post (Diane Wenger) [40] ■ Craig, M. ]. BauMor, H. Stickney. N. Jacobs, P. Knowles, S. Tucker, B. L. Hamilton, M. A die, V. Wilson, M. Hubbelt, E. Brown, M. St eke tee, J. Lane B. Allan, R. Haynes, C. White, H. Dow, E. Appel, S. Davidson, H. Lems. E. Macaulay, M. King, P. Otter, C. Nicol, ]. Straith B. Welch, J. Erb, S. Wallace, C. Babcock, N. Hart, R. Strong, E. Paton, M. R. Sanger, D. Wenger, H. Baker TENTH GRADE Adie, Mary Wyhagyl Gardens Apts.,North Ave., New Rochelle, N. Y. Allan, Beverly . 19597 R � lyn Road, Detroit, Mich. Appel, Elinore..............Route 5, Pontiac. Mich. Austin, Marilyn . 18490 Wildemerc Ave., Detroit, Mich. Babcock, Clover Lone Pine Rd., Bloomfield Hills, Mich. Batchelor, Mary Jane . 19500 Lowell Dr., Detroit, Mich. Baker, Hannah ... 205 Rodd St., Midland, Mich. Brown, Evalina . 3228 Highland Dr., Birmingham, Ala. Craig, Jean . . . 121 Berkshire Rd., Pontiac, Mich. Davidson, Shirley . 1710 Center Ave., Bay Gty, Mich. Dow, Helen . . 923 West Park Dr., Midland, Mich. Erb, Jane 19445 Shrewsbury Dr., Sherwood Forest, Detroit, Mich. Hart, Nancy . 312 Lake Park Dr., Birmingham, Mich. Hamilton, Betty Lee 616 Puritan Rd..Birmingham, Mich. Haynes, Roxana . . . Hayes Hotel, Jackson, Mich. HubbeJI, Mary . 1401 Casady Rd., Des Moines, Iowa Jacobs, Nancy . 18950 Muirland Ave., Detroit, Mich. King, Mcrrie . 1023 W. Main St., Kalamazoo, Mich. Knowles, Patty 1985 W. Lincoln Blvd., Birmingham, Mich. Knox, Rosemary 4000 Quarton Rd.. Box 387, Birmingham, Mich. Lane, Joan . . 18694 Muirland Ave., Detroit, Midi. Lewis, Helen 26379 York Rd., Huntington Woods, Royal Oak, Mich. Nicol, Qara . . “Stillwater” Route 3. Pontiac, Mich. Macaulay, Estelle 550 Sufficld Rd., Birmingham, Mich. Otter, Phoebe.................Bloomfield Hills, Mich. Paton, Eleanor . . Drury Lane, Birmingham, Mich. Sanger, Mary Ruth 2624 Glenwood Ave., Toledo. Ohio Steketee, Marcia 2089 Robinson Road. S. E., Grand Rapids, Mich. Stickney, Honor.......................Garkston, Mich. Straith, Jean . . 19305 Berkeley Dr., Detroit. Mich. Strong. Rosamond........................Orchard Lake, Mich. Tucker, Susan . 505 Bryn Mawr, Birmingham, Mich. Wallace, Shirley Lone Pine Rd., Bloomfield Hills, Mich. Welch, Barbara . 287 Suffield Rd., Birmingham, Mich. Wenger, Diane 19355 Renfrew Rd., Detroit, Mich. White, Caroline . 455 Linden Rd., Birmingham, Mich. Wilson, Virginia . 18261 Fairfield Ave., Detroit, Mich. UNREQUITED LOVE This ballad tells of modern times, A starlit summer night; The scene is at a country club, A dance is at its height. The swish of brilliant formal gowns, The scent of rare perfume Were everywhere in evidence Throughout the dancing room. And then our hero tall and blond, A handsome six feet two. Did look around this lovely hall To see just whom he knew. He looked at all the pretty girls. And they all looked the same. Till one small profile caught his glance. He had to know her name! He moved about among the stags And asked diem all in vain; He could not take his eyes away; On her they would remain. Her small pert nose was upward turned. Her hair was burnished gold. Her eyes were large deep pools of brown, Her glance at him was cold. His eyes excited followed her Around the room and back; Then suddenly he felt a slap Upon his shoulder, whack! He turned around to look and see, And he became confused. For 'twas his college roommate, Frank, Looking quite amused. ”Oh! how good to see you. Pal, It gives me quite a thrill To see you look approvingly At married cousin Jill.” It dealt him quite a cruel blow To hear the bitter truth; He turned around and went away, A disillusioned youth. Jean Grindley CONFESSIONS OF A SILVER DOLLAR I REMEMBER distinctly the day I was made. I came out of my mold perfectly. That was long ago though, in 1850 to be exart, and I have gone far since then. Let me relate a few of my most interesting experiences. After being put in a pile with my brothers and sisters, I was shipped to a bank in Las Angeles, California. When our hag was opened, the cashier’s eyes grew bright, for he loved shiny, new coins. The next day a newly rich gold-miner came into the bank and asked to have his gold changed into money. I was one of the coins given him. That night he went to the High-Lite Saloon and spent quite a few of us in gambling. We were kept in the saloon owner’s cash register for a few weeks until he ran out of cigars. Then he gave us to a warehouse owner who sent us to Buenos Aires in South America, where the cigars had been made. The South American cigar manufacturer had been saving up his money foe a long time to buy a buggy with a green leather top, and when we arrived he decided that he had enough money. So ne sent us back to the United States in his letter ordering a buggy from the Detroit Buggy and Cart Manufacturers. After a long trip we were packed safely in the factory manager s cash register. Then one night he took me out, put me in a little box, and wrapped up the box. The next morning I was opened by his little daughter. She was very pleased, but she put me back in the box. For the next two years I stayed in that box in a drawer that was full of ribbons and smelled of perfume. One day she took me out, and took me to school in her handkerchief. But on the way I dropped out and fell in the mud. There I stayed while the mud hardened. Some time later a well dressed man saw me, picked me up and pocketed me. Then as I felt him turn a comer, he stopped, and a surly voice said, Stick ’em up. Buddy, This is a robbery.” I was taken from the wealthy man's clean pocket to the dirty pocket of the robber. A few months later the robber was caught and taken to the police station. I have had many adventures, nave been lost four times, robbed three, and have spent many years idle. But on the whole I have had quite an interesting life. Mary Leu Chapman D. Getsinger, J. Grindley, M. Booth, I. I autmann, C. Thom, E. Stephenson, ]. 1-aRocca, S. Ekclund. C. Wallace, P. Shuell, J. McKean. B. Mercer I. Wolf ner, P. Zeder, B. Carter, P. Keeney, N. Newcomb, B. Longway, A. Edmunds. M. Ginsburg, A. Giard J. Thompson, M. L. Chapman, M. A. Newhall, . Beresford, N. Loud, V. Bret hen. C. Franklin NINTH GRADE Beresford, Jean 885 Westwood Dr., Birmingham, Mich. Brethen, Vera 255 Biddle Ave., Wyandotte, Mich. Booth, Marjorie Tower Cottage-Cranbrook, Bloomfield Hills, Mich. Carter, Barbara 19385 Renfrew Rd., Detroit, Mich. Chapman, Mary Ixri..................Rochester, Mich. Edmunds, Anne . 2544 Densmorc Dr., Toledo, Ohio Ekclund, Sally . . 452 W. Iroquois, Pontiac. Mich. Franklin, Caroline . 938 Virginia Park, Detroit, Mich. Getsinger, Doris ..811 Edison Ave., Detroit, Mich. Giard, Andrea . . . Lloyd House, Ann Arbor, Mich. Ginsburg, Mignon . 664 Boston Blvd., Detroit, Mich. Grindley, Jean . 852 Puritan Rd., Birmingham, Mich. Keeney. Peggy 1222 Lake Dr., S. E., Grand Rapids. Mich. LaRocca, Joyce . . . 654 Duane St., Glen Ellyn, III. Lautmann. Idell 19231 Warrington Dr., Detroit, Mich. Longway, Barbara 1001 Woodlawn Park Dr., Flint, Mich. Loud, Nancy . Lone Pine Rd., Bloomfield Hills, Mich. [43] McKean, Judith . 2984 Iroquois Ave., Dejroit, Mich. Mercer, Barbara . . 87 Ottawa Dr., Pontiac, Mich. Newcomb, Nancy “Junipers” Bloomfield Hills, Pontiac, Mich. Newhall, Mary Alicia 444 Arlington, Birmingham, Mich. Shuell, Patsy “Brooknoll” Lone Pine Rd.. Bloomfield Hills, Mich. Stephenson, Elizabeth 131 Longfellow Ave., Detroit, Mich. Thom, Christine Long Like and Franklin Rds., Route 3, Pontiac, Mich. Thompson, Jean Cranbrook School, Bloomfield Hills, Mich. Wallace, Catherine Lone Pine Rd., Bloomfield Hills, Mich. Welch, Anne . Vaughan Rd., Bloomfield Hills, Mich. Wolfner, Isabel . 19240 Burlington Dr., Detroit, Mich. Zeder, Peggy 17500 E. Jefferson Ave., Grosse Pointe, Mich. THE TRIALS OF GIVING A PARTY Grown-up PARTIES arc certainly miserable affairs. I spent the entire Sunday afternoon trying to study. I was right in die middle of math, when mother rushed upstairs to wrap prizes. Of course, she needed my help. Finally, packages wrapped, I went hack to my math. But alas! Within five minutes mother was Kick with a list a mile long of things to hunt up for her. They were going to play some crazy game, and such absurd things they needed for it. Grass shears! Where in die world would I find grass shears in the middle of winter? Fifteen pencils! Why, it was hard enough to find one pencil around this house, let alone fifteen. After dashing in and out and around the house, I finally found all the articles. Then I went up to my room and just sat. I suppose it was my fault that I had been between school work and errands all day because mother had told me to get all my work done so that I could help her today, and as always I had left it to the last moment, and now it wasn’t done. I sat down and made myself study until all but one subject were done. Then I wandered down to the kitchen where I was put to work buttering rolls. But I didn't mind, for the wonderful odors of creamed chicken and apple pie were filling the room. After dinner I said good-night to everyone and then walked upstairs. I slowly undressed and crawled into bed. Downstairs I could hear the talking and laughing of the guests, I lay there thinking about what I had done today, and I decided that it really had been fun. I dropped off to sleep with the thought of how strange it was that their fun was just beginning while mine had just ended. Judy Sappington THE MIDNIGHT DANCE The clock in a nearby town chimed twelve. Bong • Bone • Bong. Midnight! The full moon rose higher and higher. Its pale yellow beams played faintly on a small circle of green, in the middle of a dense, dark wood. Suddenly, from behind a tree came a fairy, so small that it was barely noticeable in the till grass. He wore a long coat of green with a small green hat perched on the top of his head. He pranced gaily to the center of the circle, and blew lightly on a fairy . trumpet. Then, from behind the trees, bushes, and flowers, came more of the tiny creatures. Taking partners, they danced faster and faster around the trumpeter. The crickets, who had come to watch, played merrily on their fiddles. All of a sudden, a whirring sound was heard in the air, and out of the night came a tinv chariot, drawn by four beautiful butterflies. Instantly the music stopped, and the fairies moved away from the center of the circle, bowing and curt- seying. As the chariot landed upon the grass, the fairies joined hands and skipped joyously around it. Then out of the chariot stepped the most beautiful fairy of Fairyland, the Queen. Gracefully, she took the hand of the trumpeter, and the dancing and music began once more. In and out the couples danced, barely touching the ground. TTic Queen’s dainty white dress was made from die petals of a water-lily. The other fairies wore dresses of pale pink, yellow and lavender. On they danced until the moon waned and the sun peeped over the edge of the earth and gave the world a rosy glow. Raising his trumpet to his lips, the trumpeter blew quickly upon it. In an instant, the dancing stopped. The crickets hopped hurriedly away. The Queen ran to her chariot. Turning, she waved to the fairies and then was gone. The fairies waved to their Queen and then vanished behind the trees and bushes and flowers that they had come from. The sun rose higher and higher, sending its warm rays down upon the empty patch of green in the middle of the dense, dark wood. Joan Sappington [44} J. Waldron. W. White, Judy Sappington, G. Ithey, Joan Sappington, J. Macaulay. M. L. Stiffler, M. Ward, A. David ton EIGHTH GRADE Davidson, Ashley . 1710 Center Ave., Bay Gty, Midi. Isbey, Gail . . 19475 Argyle Crescent, Detroit, Midi. Macaulay, Jane . . 550 Suffield, Birmingham, Mich. Sappington. Joan 487 Arlington Rd., Birmingham, Mich. Sappington, Judy 487 Arlington Rd., Birmingham, Mich. StifHer, Mary Lou . 871 Poppleton, Birmingham, Mich. Waldron, Jessica College Hill, Schenectady, N. Y. White, Winifred . 455 Linden Rd.. Birmingham, Mich. Ward, Mary . . 295 W. Huron St., Pontiac, Midi. [45] THE GRAND RUSH It’s FOUR o’clock on Wednesday. The seventh grade is excused for their first dancing class. There’s a grand rush for the locker room. One girl cries out, “I can’t remember my lock combination,” but it is finally figured out. Much sputtering! Much yelling! You hear, Does my slip show?” or Does my hair look O. K.?” “Yes, you look swell. Does anybody have a finger nail file?” This goes on for a long time, but at last everything is ready. We walk down the hall arm in arm, chattering excitedly, until we come to the door of the auditorium. Who shall go in first? Finally it is decided that if one of the girls goes first the rest will follow right behind. So in we go. Then the teacher, Mrs. Brown, says, Boys, choose your partners. There is another mad rush. After the boys and girls have the right idea of dancing, it is tried. Around the room taking quaint steps we go. as though we are racing to see who can go the fastest. Then a crash, boom! Two couples hit, but that doesn't stop us. On we go as fast as ever. After this has been kept up for quite a while and it is time to go home, there is just one more thing, and that is the grand march. Up we come in couples. It is our turn to separate. “Oh, dear, which way should we go? We tug and pull at each other’s arms, and finally we decide to go right. Then it’s time to say good-bye to Mrs. Brown. We go up and shake hands and leave our partners by saying Good-night.” Boy! What a day! Mary Welch A QUIET EVENING AT HOME, STUDYING Some people can’t study with the radio going, some can’t study without it. others just can’t study. You just get down to business after a half an hour of trying when you decide that you can’t study unless you’re in bed. So piling your books aside, you get into your pajamas. On crawling into bed your mother’s sweet voice rings in your ears, Don’t forget to take your bath. Of course, you have forgotten. Well, this will be a quick hath,” you will say, so you run your water. After you get into the nice water you remember that the Green Hornet” is on, so you get out and trot dripping over to turn on the radio. You go back and as you stick your big toe into the water you are terrified by shrieking voices. Oh, oh, the radio's too loud. Going back, a bit drier, you turn the radio down. Then back into the tub. A quick bath of half an hour. Soon you arc forced to remove your carcass from the tub because you wish to change the station. As you scamper back to the bathroom, it dawns on you that you are practically frozen, for someone has opened your window. Picking up your towel, hit and miss, you drape it around you and just stand shivering and squealing for someone to close the window. Finding that this doesn’t work, you give yourself a Dutch rub and jump into your pajamas. You climb into bed and just as you get your books spread over your bed your mother comes running up the stairs saying. Turn out your lights, darling. Whatever studying you haven't finished you can do in the morning if you get up early. [46} Nancy Sanders C. Crane. G. Lane. C. Boyne D. Valley, S. Sylvester, Y. Fossenktmper P. Newhall, N. Sanders, M. Weleh SEVENTH GRADE Booth, Sally Tower Cottage-Cranbrook, Bloomfield Hills, Mich. Boyne, Carol . . 511 Henley Dr., Birmingham, Mich. Crane, Carol . . 1900 Fairview, Birmingham, Mich. Fossenkemper, Yvonne 811 Vincwood Ave., Birmingham, Mich. Line, Gloria . . 18694 Muirland Ave., Detroit, Mich. Newhall, Patricia . 444 Arlington, Birmingham, Mich. Sanders, Nancy Epping Lane, Bloomfield Hills, Mich. Sylvester, Shirley 253 Hupp Cross Rd., Birmingham, Mich. Valley. Donna . . 19373 Renfrew Rd.. Detroit. Mich. Welch, Mary . 287 Suffield Rd., Birmingham. Mich. [47] ACTIVITIES CALENDAR Sept. 18—Seniors back after riotous summer, overwhelmed by new girls who in tum are over- whelmed by everything. Marshmallow roast that night. Sept. 19—We make our initial appearance at the Cranbrook movies. Talent seems rather low this year but time will tell. Sept. 24—Thrilling treasure hunt given by Old Girls for the new. Zeder gets lost in ball room. Sept. 28—One senior (initials Beatrice Paul) forgets to come to class. Imagine her embarrass- ment! Sept. 29—First religious discussion group of Kingswood and Cranbrook meets at Mr. Cadigan's residence. Oct. 1—Visiting Sunday. Lake visited by one Senior and Cranbrook escort. Oct. 6— Enrollment at Cadigan's increases 71%. Oct. 8 Kingswood grounds visited by wandering neighborhood bovines. Oct. 17—Our varsity hockey team defeats Vaughn in first game of season. Oct. 19— Brownie’’ decides after reading the “Odyssey” to become a goddess so she can do as she pleases. Oct. 21—First joint service in Christ Church. “Venite” sung a la Kingswood. Oct. 24—Seniors have their class rings fitted. Sizes run suspiciously large. Oct. 31- We celebrate Hallowe’en by defeating Vaughan on our own hockey field. Nov. 4 -Cranbrook-Shadyside tea dance attended by enthusiasts. “Crinoline Days” Autumn Festival enjoyed by all, even tired “C” boys who retire at eleven. Nov. 9—Kingswood places second on Detroit Hockey Team. Cress caught smuggling cake home from tea. Nov. 10—First issue of die “Clarion.” Much credit due the staff. Nov. 11—Howe game attended by two Kingswoodites in black stockings. What next? Nov. 13—We celebrate the arrival of mail boxes with our numbers on them. Nov. 23—Franksgiving Vacation !! Need we say more? Nov. 27—Back again. Greeted cheerfully (?) in assembly by Mr. Hill who thinks we’re “moron” the ball than most girls. Dec. 1—Twelve girls attend Cranbrook formal. “Three white gardenias.” Dec. 8—Three of our actresses star in Cranbrook’s very original version of the “Petrified Forest.” Dec. 15—Seniors get their rings with very engaging advice from Dr. Marquis. Hang on to it, Barbie! Dec. 17—Audience, although slightly bewildered, enjoys “The Tree,” our Christmas play. Our soloists did us proud. Dec. 19—It’s coming - - • Dec. 20—It’s here! Exeunt omnes. Jan. 7—Sunday night - - - one by one - - - we return. Ah, me. 1940—here we come. Jan. 12—Would-be skating party turns into Gym brawl. Miss Houser leads Virginia Reel. Jan. 12—We yawn through anodier early morning joint service. Roller skating party in gym. Jan. 20—Sociable week end had by all, starting off by Cabin party and ending in a quiet (?) Visiting Sunday. Jan. 26—In spite of approaching dangers 29 boarders skip into Detroit to see “Gone With the Wind.” Come what may, it was worth it. Jan. 29—Gloom settles over school. Pig-tails appear along with wan looks at breakfast. Jan. 31—Still gloom, but the ice is pretty smooth. One of our boarders was especially Glad about the skiing. [5o] Feb. 1—Exhausted Seniors straggle home for week-end. Feb. 2—Exhausted underclassmen do likewise, bidding an extra fond farewell to remaining faculty. Feb. 5—Return to the tune of “Who’s Sorry Now?” T. Flood returns laden with the silver and blue from across the lake. The rest of us return with just the blue. Feb. 10—Entertained at Cranbrook by various phases of folk dancing. Traffic jam at Academy Road. Moral: there will be whistles after this. Feb 14—Seniors revel at Ann Parker’s smooth tea. The joys of being a Senior. Valentine Party in the dining room. Faculty watch students slug. Feb. 16—Peanuts, popcorn, pop—yes, even those slimy chameleons—combine to make the Shrine Circus one not soon to be forgotten. Feb. 17—Cranbrook ring business is really Adie-g up. Feb. 21—Rehearsal with Cranbrook for Mikado. Mr. Hill decides to leave town. Feb. 22—“Rosy” Frank becomes very attached to stairs while rehearsing Comedy of Errors. Feb. 22—Miss Lovell triumphantly displays her new “Deep Purple” material. Influx of new boarders. Feb. 24—Certain new boarders find themselves strangely fond of the campus. Home basketball game and dance. Dam that whistle! Feb. 25—Honey and Lyla get their chance at the fleet! Feb. 26—‘Til trade two, but I’m keeping the rest for myself.” Anticipation of K. S. formal. Feb. 28—Joint Glee Clubs sing “Mikado.” Mr. Hill mysteriously absent. Feb. 29—Here’s your chance, girls! Mar. 1—“Comedy of Errors” makes a grand hit. Mar. 6—Dance contest. “Flubbie and “Stek” in the upper school and Kitty” and Tommie in the lower danced away with the first prizes. Congratulations. Mar. 9—Swing and sway the Kingswood way at our winter (?) formal. One of the heaven- Iiest” we’ve ever had. Mar. 13—We give the boys a dose of dieir own medicine -plus a swell time—at the Leap Year Dance sponsored by the Seniors. Mar. 22—Spring hits us with a bang. So does vacation. It’s home again for ten glorious days. Apr. 2—Somewhat reluctantly we return -some a shade more tan. Rumors abroad that our friends from across the lake do not return until Sunday. Apr. 12-13—“Boy Meets Girl” at Cranbrook. Well, it won’t be for the first time. Camelias to Clover! Apr. 19—Bus service needed again for Cranbrook spring formal. Apr. 27—Senior Bridge Tea. Our exchequer is swelled. May 3—The Juniors present “The Cradle Song. Very good. May 11-12, 17-18—It’s a racket, but we do it every year: the tennis tournaments. May 12—Mother’s Day Tea. So Spring-y and nice! May 23—We really felt like Seniors at M rs. Booth’s tea. It won’t be long now. May 31—Gloom. Here they arc again - - - those exams. Kingswood Day helps cheer us up. June 2—Baccalauratc Sunday. Fhat weak, wish-I-were-a-scventh-grader feeling begins tocomeon. June 3—Oh, Death! Where is thy sting? June 6—Senior breakfast. At last we’ve seen the Sanctum Sanctorum! June 7—Junior-Senior banquet - - speeches - - tears - - the formal - - orchids - - lanterns - - men in white - - our last night at Kingswood. June 8—It’s all over but the weeping. Excited Seniors prance around with their proud parents while vague gentlemen friends look on. — All buffet supper. Then “On Our Way Rejoicing”—with tears in our eyes—to Eastwood and the great big world. ORCHESTRA Fulfilling a desire of many years, the orchestra had its be- ginning this year under Miss Reese. We are very proud of the fine progress this group has made in its one year of organ- ization and are looking forward to great things with more time and members. The program given in assembly was well re- ceived and thoroughly enjoyed. The orchestra consists of: violin, Jean Alice Potter; piano, Han- nah Baker and Diana Beebe; viola, Janet Ecker; flute, Helen Dow; cello, Yvonne Fossen- kemper; clarinet Margaret Me- Math and Honor Stickney; and saxophone, Madeline McMath. • A. PotttT, M. McMath. H. Dow, Miss Reese, H. Stickney H. Baker, D. Beebe, P. McMath, J. Ecker P. Keeney, M. Welch. Joan Sappington, H. Cress, M. Krejci S. Davidson, H. Cooper, P. Johnson, J. Osborn, H. Corbus, M. Fell S. Holden, P. Lewis, J. McCombs. G. Campbell THE CLARION “The Clarion” in its fourth year of publication hit a new- high as a very clever chronicle of school news. This grand job was due to the excellent leader- ship of Editor-in-chief Pat Lewis aided by assistant editors. Glad Campbell and Janet Osborn; business manager, Sallic Holden; sports editor, Shirley Davidson; art editor, Marjorie Weed; literary editors, Harriett Cress, Maricta Krejci, and Harriet Corbus; and dormitory editor, Pat Johnson. B. Allan, G. Raquet, C. Babcock. A. Ward, H. Baker, ]. Ecker, J. Lane, J. Craig. P. John ton, L. Landis, G. Campbell, M. Weed, ]. A. Poller, D. Wenger H. Lewis, E. Macaulay, M. Bard, C. While, B. Pfohl, H. Dow, S. Davidson. M. McMalh, M. ]. Batchelor, B. Booth, J. Raseman, P. McMalh, D. Doan, P. Lewis M. Pease, M. Fell, J. McCombs, H. Cress, R. Haynes, V. Wilson, C. Nicol, P. Knowles, M. Krejci. GLEE CLUB Under tmf. CAPABLE leadership of Mr. E. W. Hill the Glee Club enjoyed a most successful year. The first appearance was at the carnival in November, followed by the Christmas Pageant. In February the girls sang a concert of Gilbert and Sullivan’s “Mikado with the Cranbrook Glee Gub and orchestra, preceding a lecture by Carl Sandburg. They gave a very creditable performance at the Senior Play on March ist and ended their year by singing a joint concert with Cranbrook in the spring. [53] THE COMEDY OF ERRORS JUNIOR PLAY The class of 1940 chose as its Junior presentation four one-act plays in preference to the usual single, longer production. All members of the Junior class took part in these plays which were Figureheads.” “Mrs. Harper’s Bazaar, Chimney Comer, and Romance, Inc.” The scenery was done by Mr. Comstock, direction by Mrs. Cochran, and costuming by Miss Trantum. SENIOR PLAY We chose as our Senior Play Shakespeare’s fast-moving farce “A Comedy of Errors.” Again we offer our thanks to Mrs. Cochran for her excellent direction and to Miss Trantum for her lovely costumes. Cast of CharMters Solinus. Duke of Ephesus....................................................Sallie Holden Egean, a merchant of Syracuse.............................................Harriet Cooper °f, 1 twin brother, nd ton, of Egean and Emelu . L Plt “ Antipholus of Syracuse) (Harriett Cress Dromio of Ephesui ) t,K m Antipholus j Harriet Wahndcy Dromio of Syracuse) r ( Ann Parker Balthazar, a merchant ....................................................Beatrice Paul Angelo, a goldsmith........................................................Harriet Corbus First Merchant, friend of Antipholus of Syracuse .... Mary Jane Cloonan Second Merchant, to whom Angelo is debtor....................................Betty Brown Pinch, a schoolmaster.....................................................Trientie Hood Amelia, wife to Aigean, abbess at Ephesus.................................Dorothy Doan Adriana, wife to Antipholus of Ephesus........................................Lyla Landis Luciana, her sister........................................................Glad Campbell Luce, servant to Adriana...................................................Barbara Pfohl A Lady of Ephesus....................................................Kathryn Heilman A Page to the Duke.........................................................Rosalie Frank First Officer ) rv l • f Janet McGregor Second Officer } Dukc‘ mm...................................................{ Nancy W 3e, Third Officer (with Angelo)..................................................Janet Osborn Fourth Officer.............................................................Dorothy Leeder M. Welch, W. White. M. Steketee, D. Duffield, B. Booth, C. Franklin Captains—L. Landis, T. Hood, J. Thompson, M. Booth. ATHLETIC COUNCIL One REPRESENTATIVE is chosen from each class to be on the Athletic Council. These girls, meeting with Miss Houser and the Gold and Blue captains, place new girls on the teams and select players for the various varsity squads. They also determine individual and team awards. TEAMS AND ACTIVITIES Every GIRL participates in sports, the school being divided into two teams, the Blue and the Gold. Intramural games are held between the two teams in hockey, soccer, basketball, baseball, ping pong and bowling. At the end of the year the name of die team having the most points is placed on the banner hanging in the gymnasium. In addition to the sports mentioned above, the girls play tennis, arch, canoe, ride, toboggan, ski and ice skate. A new elective course of modem dancing was offered this year, which a number of girls welcomed enthusiastically. Fencing was also offered as an elective sport, and a team was organized which played several matches with Vaughan and Detroit. « [56] SOCCER Continuing the long established custom of a soccer game between the seventh grade girls and the first form boys of Cranbrook who attended Brookside, and the fifth and sixth grades of Brookside, a game was played this fall at Kingswood. Brook side won. Another old custom is the upper versus lower school game. This year the upper school came out on top. HOCKEY The chief fall sport in the upper school is field hockey. A varsity team is chosen from the Blue and Gold teams, and this team plays other schools. This year the girls again played in the Private School League competing with Lawrence Avenue Convent of Detroit, the Grosse Pointe Convent and Grosse Pointc Country Day. They won two of their three games and placed second in the tournament. Two games were played with Vaughan School, Kingswood winning both, and several practice games were held with Lawrence Avenue Convent. Two girls were given positions on the all-Detroit Private School Teams. They were Janet Farrell, full-back on the first team, and Trientje Hood, right-wing on the second team. This year the ninth grade had a hockey team of their own, playing two outside games with Vaughan, one here and one there. This is the second year that hockey has been offered to the ninth graders, and it has proven to be a very popular plan with all Kingswood freshmen. WINTER SPORTS Eek Look out Here we come! The Kingswood girls are on their way down the toboggan slide. The wind whistles by as down and down they go. to pile up in a great heap at the end of the ride. This is one way of spending the afternoon at Kingswood. In a cloud of snow, a brown object swishes wildly past us. followed by other figures, emitting loud cries and shrieks. A moment later cries of anguish are heard from below, 'file skiers have reached solid ground. We pass on from these happy scenes to Cranbrook Lake- especially to that small patch in the middle, cleared of snow, where we see bright figures flitting back and forth. The skating season is also in full swing now. A leg is gracefully stretched up to the heavens as a Sonja Henie fan docs a “dying swan. Suddenly a whistle blows. Girls hurry from the ice toward school, and the afternoon sports period is over. TENNIS In SPRING our attention is drawn to the tennis courts where each year are held two Michigan State Tournaments, the Junior Girls’ Tournament and the Girls’ Tournament. These tourna- ments are played during May, and girls from many localities enter. In the past few years, Kingswood students have made a fine showing in both tournaments. Besides these State contests, Kingswood holds its own tournament, this being open to all the students. The winner’s name is placed on the 01en Wallace Memorial Cup, which is kept from year to year by the school. [57] Ann Parker H. Corbus, S. Holden, G. Campbell B. Pfohl, J. Osborn, H. Cress LIBRARY STAFF The library STAFF consists of a group of Senior boarders chosen at the end of their Junior year to work as assistants to Miss Steere. These girls are in charge of the library during after- noon, evening, and Saturday morning study hall. M. Fell T. Hood, H. Corbus, L. Landis. E. Brown, D. Doan STUDENT GOVERNMENT In rrs SECOND YEAR the Student Government expanded both in size and responsibility. Hie duties, in addition to those of last year, included carrying the mail, holding house meetings, and having a food committee to work with Miss Ryder. The council consists of representa- tives from the upper and lower schools as well as three seniors. These girls were Martha Fell, Evalina Brown. Dorothy Doan, Harriet Corbus, Trientje Hood, Helen Dow, and Chairman, [58} Lyla Landis. THE WINTER DANCE March NINTH found Kingswood’s halls echoing with the mingled strains of laughter and Marvin Frederick’s orchestra. Using as its theme “Stardust the dining hall was beautifully decorated with stars, white balloon clouds, and blue crepe paper sky. After the dance, break- fast was served. Credit for this very successful dance is due to Barbara Booth, Sallie Holden, Barbara Pfohl, Maricta Krejci, Ada Ward, Evalina Brown, and Roxana Haynes. Mrs. Rey- nolds. and Mr. Wentz. CARNIVAL Using as ITS theme a Crinoline Bazaar of the late 1800'$, the autumn festival was unusually successful. A rose-entwined picket fence, potted shrubs, and blue background gave die gym- nasium a festive atmosphere which was enhanced by the graceful ante-bellum costumes of the guests. A program of singing, dancing, and skits was followed by dancing to the music of Al Cox’s orchestra. “The best ever” was the general concensus of opinion. [59] FAMOUS SAYINGS Miff Augur—“Ladies, where are you headed for? Mitt Fry—“All right, we’ll start all over again.” Mist Trantum—“Don’t you want to get up and stretch? Mitt Evanf—“Now listen! You need this.” Miff Bennett “You’d better get an excuse.” Miff Waldo—“Get busy, girls.” Mu. Rice— Please, girls, let’s not have any singing. Miff Smith—“Oh, deah! Miff Cormany—“Be specific.” Miff ones—“So far - So good. Mu. Brozik—“Is that art you’re doing? Miff Houter— Read the bulletin board. Miff Reete -“Stop marking my tables. They’re my pride.” Mrf. Reynoldf—“How many times do I have to tell you the last bell rang?” Madamoifelle—“Fermez vos livres.” Mrf. Holm— What do you do next?” Mift Lovell—“Will the following girls please sign in!” Miff Steere— Keep your feet on the floor.” Miff Emery—' Watch your fingering.” Miff Blesting- What’s your name?” Miff Bierce- - What’s your excuse this time? Mrf. Cochran—“Now we’ve got to get down to business.” Mr. Hill—“I don’t want to be here anymore than you do. Mr. Frcderickf—“Have you heard about the time I • - •?” Mr. Shultz—“My dear children.” Dr. Harvey— Has it been X-rayed?” THE BRIDGE GAME A MURMUR of voices below comes through the open door. No word is distinguishable, no voice louder than any other. Just the steady baritone of an impersonal masculine conversation. Then the metallic clicks of a dozen high heels descending the stairs, and the higher pitched, more staccato voices of the women mingle with the bass. A pause, and a woman speaks, her amused, melodious voice rises and falls, and the room rings with laughter. There is a tense and more lengthy pause in the conversation while the cards are shuffled and dealt. Throats are cleared. One serious voice after another states something. More clicks as the cards slap on the table. At last all the voices in every tone—apologetic, exultant, matter-of-fact, excited mingle at once into a confused mass of sound which shows tivat one hand of bridge is over. Jean Alice Potter [60] MIDNIGHT IN A PARIS CAFE I GI-ANCED at my watch- nearly midnight. I’d told Amy I wouldn’t be away long. I drained my glass and signalled a waiter to ask for my check. Just then I saw the strangest couple coming across the floor. The woman was tall, strikingly beautiful. She wore her dark auburn hair low- on her neck. Her brown eyes were absolutely expressionless. She seemed totally unaware of the people around her, of the music, the smoke. It was as if she were in a trance. The short, stocky man following her couldn’t have been more different. His small black eyes darted back and forth across that low-ceilinged room, until I had the uncomfortable feeling that there had been no detail, however slight, overlooked. They sat down at the table next to mine. The waiter stood at my elbow. But here I sensed adventure; so I said, “The same, and thought of what I’d tell Amy. The girl sat motionless, seeing nothing. The man continued to glance around the room. Another wrong hunch. I devoted my thoughts to the rest of the customers. I had been sitting thus for several minutes when someone tapped me on die shoulder. I started violently. It was the short, stocky man. He said politely. Pardon me, monsieur, but would you be so kind as to settle a question for me? What would you say die lady is thinking about?” He indicated the beautiful Titian-haired girl. I replied, I’m afraid I can’t be of much help to you, sir, for the lady appears to be thinking of nothing at all. She seems to be almost in a trance.” He stared at me a moment and then said, Thank you so very much. You’ll never know what you have done for me this evening.” Then he walked over to his table and sat down heavily. Slowly, as if every movement hurt, he drew from his inside coat pocket an important looking document and methodically tore it to bits. The misty look seemed to clear from the girl’s eyes. She looked at me and smiled gratefully. Or was it my imagination? Diana Beebe AQUAMARINES I found two lovely aquamarines Like frozen drops of ocean dew Like pearls that formed in a mermaid's cave Or tears that fell from a sky of blue. I hid them on a rocky ledge Where none might steal them ’way from me. But a snowy sea-gull found them there And dropped them in the deep blue sea. Elinore Appel [62] NIGHT ThB room THROBBIJ) with the distant pnting of a train as it paused for breath at the station. Two o’clock and still not asleep. He turned over to listen to the escaping steam that seemed so near and drowsily wondered why sounds seem louder at night. Over the incessant murmur of the crickets mounted die wailing obbligato of a hound, a death chant for summer. The moon filtering through the veil of curtain made livid squares on the floor. For hours he had watched them widen and lengthen until they covered the bookshelf in the comer bluing the volumes. The pallid squares were broken only by the swaying branches of an elm by his window. Crack! He sat upright. His drowsiness had disappeared and his heart pounded like the train that had just continued on its journey. The dog and the crickets canted their threnody. That was all. With a muffled curse he threw himself back, burying his face in the pillow, the creaking a sharp protest. Only die house; all old houses groan and crack at night; he derided his fear. But his sudden start had prohibited sleep. He got up and went to the window. A few stars strove to outshine the moon, and failing in that, exasperated him by disappearing when he looked at them, only to twinkle mockingly when he searched for another. The cold moon stared blankly down at him; its pitiless aspect cooling his irritation at the malevolent stars. His lips moved in the words of a poem, forgotten since his youth: “The baleful moon glares down without pity And haughtily, idly stares at die city.” An officious wind brushed a crisp leaf from the elm. It glided down lazily, silvered by the moon until it was lost in the shadowy velvet grass. The rumble of die train would suddenly crescendo, then it gradually diminished, until it settled down to a contented murmur which blended with the dirge of the crickets. Jean Alice Poller ON A CITY BUS My first IMPRF.SSION was of a middle-aged woman of a hardy build making her way down the aisle of a New York bus with a small boy. Her face was red and pock-marked, with prom- inent cheek-bones and a firm mouth. They were scarcely sealed beside me when the boy, of about diree years, began a stream of questions in a high-pitched voice aided by much pointing. “Just another tired mother giving her child a little air this sultry night, thought I, little inclined to be tolerant. Still I was moved to pity when I saw how lovingly her work-worn hands caressed him as he sat on her lap. Pity quickly gave way to admiration when I heard a quiet voice attempt to satisfy his curiosity with amazing success. I looked at her again, but this time her eyes met mine. They shone kindly in a fearless glance which enlivened her face widi strength and understanding. After that we talked a bit, and I learned something about her before I left. She had always lived in New York and knew every section of it and loved them all. She told me about all die beautiful mansions we passed as well as the over-populated section where she lived. Her little son, she said proudly, was the fifth generation to live in their family home. She talked long of him, for he was her only child—indeed almost all she had in the world. She regretted that she could not give him many opportunities, but was trying to make it up by devoting much time and love to him. She had chosen this moonlit night to show him New York by night, and she, sitting in the open top of a bus, was enraptured by one of her best beloved sights. Maxine Appel [63] THE PERFECT SENIOR Hair—Beatrice Paul Eyebrows- Harriet Corbus Eyes—Catherine Evans Eyelashes—Nancy Works Nose—Janet McGregor Lips—Barbara Pfohl Teeth—Lois Jean Young Complexion—Sallie Holden Hands Honey Doan Legs—Barbara Booth Petit feet—Rosalie Frank Figure—Pat Lewis Speaking voice- Harriet Cooper Smile—Glad Campbell Poise—Lyla Landis Pep—Ann Parker Disposition—Kathryn Heilman Scholastic ability—Diana Beebe Thoughtfulness—Harriet Walmsley Clothes—Helen Tippett Athletic skill—Trientje Hood Gaiety—Harriett Cress Generosity -Dorothy Lceder Enthusiasm—Janet Csborn Wit—Betty Brown Artistic ability—Mary Jane Cloorun Dimples- Jeanne Shucll JUNIOR ROLL Name Known for Maxine Appel................Florida tan . . . Marilyn Bard................Getting to school . Joy Brooker.................Teaching knitting Roberta Cole................Popularity . . . Pel peeve . Controlling her temper . Physics assignments . Being bored at Cranbrook . Texas Dorothy Duffield . . . .“Scatterbrain .....................Dramatics Janet Ecker.................Dancing......................No« seeing G. W. T. W.” Janet Farrell...............Speaking too fast .... Reading Martha Fell.................Ambition.....................Rushing to classes Barbara Finsterwald .... Charm...........................Ann Arbor Current Events President Roosevelt ‘It’s a long way to California” Correspondence Meeting the Greyhound on time Ccnco John..................Fingernails............ Pat Johnson.................Being a Republican . . Marieta Krejci..............Good Taste .... Mary Maynard................Tiny feet.............. Jean McCombs................Ann Arbor .... Madeline McMath .... Arguing...................Potter’s philosophy Peggy McMath................Enthusiasm...................Waiting for “Mad Madeleine Pease.............Personality..................Not enough sleep Jean Alice Porter .... Disagreeing with “Mad.” . . Buying good records Jean Raseman................Artistic interests...........Horses that say “moo’ Gloria Raquet...............Rings, et cetera.............Studying Ruth Royal..................Coiffures....................Modem History Ada Ward....................School spirit................Washing her hair Marjorie Weed...............Artistic ability.............Cranbrook Muriel Wilson...............Humming......................Getting a ride home Marilyn Hard JUNIOR JOTTINGS The defiant black of the letters bold against the blinding white of the paper brought the impact of reality to the dulled apathy of his mind. WAR! • A sparkling white COVER of stars and diamonds over the entire landscape. The bright sun reflecting the shining crystals on the lawn and melting the shimmering ice on the over-laden trees. Two wavering snowmen faithfully guard the fading scene. Half-way UP THE hill, the truck chugged, faltered as if trying to decide whether to go on or give up, then with a grating of gears resumed its climb in second. The motor sobbed violently —too big a load for even ilf power. The enormous eight-legged insect reached the top, hesi- tated, panting for breath, and then with another gnashing of gears, rolled, victorious, down the other side. As l UE here trying to sleep, I can hear the ocean’s roar beneath my window. I think of each wave as a person whose life starts at the horizon and ends as it splashes weakly on the sandy shores. I consider their different moods: on sunny days noiselessly calm, murmuring softly with contentment, on gloomy days whimpering with complaints, and during frequent storms, blast- ing and screeching and fighting restlessly. • • Outside it is monotonously snowing. The trees stand by in boredom. Now and then comes an annoying whiff of wind. Gray sky, black trees and white snow. The scene is dull. • • [66} WHAT GRAM” SAYS When you sec the way a modem girl does dress, What she is trying to do is hard to guess. With bright red lips and bright red nails, A huge hair bow, and short pig tails. Saddle shoes neglected for many a day. Once beautifully white, now drably gray. Sweater buttoned in back, with pushed up sleeves And for shrinkage, of course, two sizes she leaves. Bright red stockings that reach to the knee Or spoon bent for bracelet, perhaps you may see. Hatless in winter and summer alike Just see—she’ll catch cold; serve her right! Is she trying to act old or young? I can’t tdl— And driving a car at her age-well! Strange is the picture the modem portrays, Tilings surely have changed since my days! Barbara Finsterwald AWE It was a CRISP, cold night when the stars shone brightly in the dear, dark sky and each one seemed endeavoring to be far more dazzling than the millions of others. Suddenly a star silently shot through the sky. Then another fell. Rapidly the number increased until wherever I looked, balls of light were gracefully gliding toward the horizon as swiftly and directly as Indian-shot arrows. Below the balcony where I was standing were miles of forests, the flaming autumn leaves—subdued by night-- and the fresh green hrs carpeted a boundless hall of whim the sky was the ceiling and I a mere spectator. How great Nature was! The constellations in propor- tion to which I was less than a needle-point revolved the same way for millions of years without change while I concerned myself with a day not even a fragment of the time. As I stood there dreaming, the heavens assumed even greater magnitude, and I steadily diminished, until with a brain swimming in stars I tumbled into bed wondering how anything could matter when such uplifting beauty existed. Maxine Appel TWO SELVES There are two of me: the person I want to be and the person I am. Alas, for this latter person; she has predominance over the other one. For instance, she is the one who has an insane desire to slide down long shiny banisters, regardless of time or place. The person I want to be would resist the lure of this enchanting but undignified mode of locomotion. The “person I am” has a loud voice and spills tea and trips over her own unruly feet. The “other me” is gentle and quiet, a Katherine Cornell sort of person. She has her fleeting moments of triumph when aided by high heels and symphony. But with the discarding of the external signs I wish I were” climbs onto a hanger, waiting for another formal occasion to make her reappearance. Then out leaps “real me” with amazing vivacity and, disguised in saddle-shoes and sweaters, leads me into endless difficulties and embarrassing situations. All me! the trials of being a dual personality! [67] Lyla Lmdn ]. Shuell. M. . Cloonan, S. Holden, P. Lewii A. Parker, L. Landis, B. Pfohl, B. Brown, H. Corbus, G. Campbell WOODWINDS' STAFF Editor-in-Chief....................................... Literary Editor .............................. Assistant Literary Editor............................. Art Editor............................................ Assistant Art Editor.................................. Business Manager...................................... Assistant Business Manager............................ Photographic Editor................................... Snapshot Editor....................................... Sports Editor......................................... Lyla Landis Pat Lewis Harriet Corbus Mary Jane Cloonan Glad Campbell Jeanne Shuell Sallic Holden Barbara Pfohl Betty Brown Ann Parker [68] The Staff wishes to express its sincere thanks to Miss Josephine Waldo for her assistance and encouragement in presenting this issue of Woodwinds. KINGSWOOD I am Queen of the Hills. My outstretched arms encircle many beauties. Though gowned in modem dress, I come from family old and sound; Though young and vivacious. Custom and tradition fill my heart. Sincere warmth and affection Follow my every undertaking. I am the pride of all who love me, For I hold a key to knowledge and friendship. I am a spirit that shall live As long as those near and dear to me Shall love and cherish my airs and accomplishments. Rosalie Frank [69] AUTOGRAPHS [70] ACKNOWLEDGMENTS Frontispiece - Richard G. Askew Senior and Group Pictures - Max Habrecht Fngravings - Brophy-Salisbury Company Printing - Cranbrook Press [71]