MacMurray College - Tartan / Illiwoco Yearbook (Jacksonville, IL)

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Cl ASSES Kiilh lioini

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T A C C TIf C Each year we come, Freshmen, Sophomores, Juniors, and Sen- iors, all as easily identified as if labeled. Six weeks and our classification is by a new scale — through daily classes, those inevitable, informative, im- promptu little details of college life! To some, they are episodes to be lived for, to others, they are at best, to be lived through. No matter if one is a freshman or senior, her main classification is event- ually in one of these two groups. The gang who dedicate their lives to classes are easily detected. Thev feel that My Time is Your Time if it ' s spent in class. They know all the answers and just which three little words the prof, expects. Their theme song is Goody Goody . As for the crowd who merely survives classes, they are of the variety who never warn teacher that One of these days you ' re going to miss me, honey — they just cut. They are the ones who slam down lessons and sigh, What ' s to do about it! Let ' s put out the lights and go to sleep . Their theme song is Lost . But at the semester ' s end both groups unite before teacher in the common query, How ' m I Doin ' ?

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THE SENIOR CLASS The seniors, concerning themselves with concentrations, practice teaching, and general campus leadership have been greatly in evidence about the ivy clad halls of learning. Even before the formal senior recognition service, you could tell a senior, the underclassmen said, by the way she smiled at you. After recognition, of course, there were the traditional caps and gowns to reinforce the smile. The sophomores were especially kind and thoughtful at the recognition of their big sister class. They were responsible for the yellow and white chapel decorations, the yellow and white bouquets in the dining hall, the specially nice coffee, and, most novel of all, the spicy little chrysanthemum nosegays presented to each senior. Thrilling as the Senior Ball was, the house dance, December 6, did not lack that lyric touch. Roll up the rugs, and Jane lounge is a perfectly gorgeous ball room, as any senior can testify. The Christmas tree was glimmery and lovely, they say. lola sang and there was a hilarious tag dance. The music wasn ' t half bad — if only the pianist had condesended to come out from behind those whiskers! No Mr. X, he. It was just a wager he said. So successful was the evening of December 6, that a second Senior house dance was decided upon in May. April 2 5 brought the Senior Tea, the class entertaining relatives and friends in Jane lounge. Under the guidance of Flo Hunt, general chairman, the memorable affair was most successful. Senior cut day is always a lark, but this year it was especially exciting. St. Louis beckoned, and the truant seniors zoomed off, car after car, to a day of fun. A concert. A play, opera, show, or just the zoo? Who knows — least of all the mystified under- classmen — what filled that spring lark of the seniors! And now comes that weepy, swan-song period when the about-to-be graduated begin to repent all sins of omission and a few of commission. It seems incredible that the forgetful sands could close over the footprints of those illustrious ones and still more incredible that they should be far and wide taking their place in the world. Yet svich is the way of things: Up and on. Luck, seniors!