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

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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]

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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]