Saint Ursula Academy - Scroll Yearbook (Toledo, OH)

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ovafcaine Blues AVIZ you ever been trappetl in a front of me. Ileyontl I eoultl see a gray tlentist's ehair for an hour? Wlell if you have, I extentl my tleepest sympathy. I walketl into the waiting room, antl notieing that a woman was aheatl ol me, I sat tlown antl trietl to quiet my shat- teretl nerves. I venturetl a smile at her onte but she was iust as tliseouragetl as I tif not more sol. I reatl Iuwl, Petit. Lift!-. Pitt antl Sflffinl from tover to eover, A few min- utes later I was beekonetl into the tleath chamber. I gropetl for the ehair antl when I hatl finally eauriously sefetl my- self, the nurse put a big white bib on me fit looketl more like a tableelothj. 'I'hen the tlentist approaehetll He opened my mouth antl examinetl every bieuspitl antl molar minutely. Then all of a sutltlen he jammetl into mv mouth a pliers, a mirror, Rupp antl Iiow man's .Ianuary supply of cotton, a ten toot elrill, bo.h of his hantls, antl asketl how my sister wasl 'I'here was a large wintlow tlireetly in :-tone building fifteen stories high, one huntlretl .intl sex enty-two wintlows on the XY est sitle teighty-tive with venetian blinils, fortysthree with tlrapes, antl thi remaining forty-four were ltlsl plain ortli nary glassy, sixty-seven tloitors' ollites, fifty-nine law firms. thirty-eight real estate offices antl eight fellow tlentists. 'I'hat's quite aeeuratel In ortler to be relievetl of any amount of pain I asketl for 11f11'fft'.1i11e, 'I'he neetlle jabbetl into my jaw antl I eoultl feel it tome out behintl my left ear. 'I'hen I saw that tlrill again anel it was toming right for me. The noise went through my brain until my thoughts were whirl- ing like the spinalryer on an Ifasy Wlaslir mathine. 'I'hen it was overl My numbetl jaw hatl no sense of feeling, mueh less pain I wen. home unhappily, antl vaguely re- niemheretl that I hail forgotten to tell Dr. XY'ally how my sister was. Doi oiuis RIMfv1I'I,IN '-17 Chem istry T irades Ho hum! It's mitlnight now antl that butltling little seientist is tinally in betl. Mitlnight, you know, is that weirtl hour when the ghosts begin to walk. Hi Hof Qhe's that erazy man who was murtleretl in this house. Niee fellow, too, in spite of the faet that he's heatllessj. I'm a ehemistry book, and boy, is that a life! I'm always up late and out early. Some- times I think that imp is brainless. just listen to what happeneel: She was experimenting up in lab with all sorts of long-nameel things. I know all about them, but she tloesn't. .Wie has te ask me all the tyuestions antl she's oltler than I am. To get on with the story she hatl the zine in one hanel anel the hytlroehlorie aeitl in the other. Ditl she know what to tlo? No! And why! She tlitlna even look at me last night. Sister tolel her to perform an experiment to see what the aeitl antl metal were eomposetl of. Antl what elo you think she tlitl? Pouretl the aeitl on to the zinel It was awfully pretty while it lasteil. 'I'he tire, I mean. Clan you see this burn on my cover! Guess where I got it? In the big tire that burned the school tlown. 'I'he moral of this is: tlon't pour aeitl on zine without looking at your ehemistry book the night before. Ho-hum. Say. you kept me up even later. Ciootl night? I2i,imiuf'rn hIC.lNIIfRNIfY '-I6 THE SCROLL 31

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Slaves of Fashion ES, slaves of fashion is a perfect sketch for us women who will go to any lengths to please our admirers of the opposite sex. The motto of the foreign females seems to be as the twig is bent, so grows the tree. For all their excruciat- ing, diabolical rituals begin when they are still in the age of innocence. Little Chinese girls must have their feet bound tightly so that they can never grow, Consequently, when they have advanced to womanhood, their feet have been left unchanged and they are doomed to hob- ble around on lily feet. And among the native tribes of Africa and South America, even more fantastic beauty habits are employed. The women have tried to imitate the giralfe by wind- ing many, many iron coils around their necks until it had become sometimes even more than a foot between the chin and the shoulders. Were these coils to be removed, the neck would immediately collapse under the weight of the head. Binding heads to make them pointed, and wearing rings and bones in pierced ears and noses is nothing unusual among the blacks of the tropic jungles. They even go farther in the Ubangi tribes by suspending a large brass hoop from their lower lip to make it protrude azflruv1iz'ely. But we women of civilization are not exempt from such grueling procedures. In fact if a Ubangi beauty were to hap- pen into one of our beauty salons and catch sight of a permanent wave ma- chine, she would undoubtedly shriek in terror, thinking that she had fallen into a tribal torture chamber. And so the feminine world lives on, shackled by such outrageous methods of beautifying, all for fashion. North, South, East and West we are all women tempted by vanity-but it's our trade and we en- dure it. SUZANNH STRAUB '45 Lfife Begins At . I am languishing in a deep coma. It seems I've been in this state for five long days. My eyes are beginning to blind now. I see a faint ray of light before me. Things are becoming much clearer and more distinct. just a few more minutes and I shall be wide awake. I can feel each second creep by and now I can hear the ringing of bells, bells, bells, bells- liberty bells. Suddenly I awaken into a world of brightness. Around me I hear a most stupendous rejoicing. Finally! Finally! At last! It's two-thirty. Friday afternoon. A week-end of hilarious fun. Life begins at two-thirty every Friday. For it is then I leave the dreary side of my life for two blissfully blessed days to see how the world around me is getting along. But woe is me! the week-end seems to fly with lightning speed. Practically in a split second Sunday night is behind me and Monday looms over me menacingly. There is nothing during the five days but agonizing struggle before I can return to the freedom of another cherished week- end. As I sit in my first class Monday morn- ing, I can feel my eyes closeg the souvenir memory of the glorious past leaves me, only to be covered up by the darkness of stark reality. Again I can feel the sec- onds passing only to remind me this is one week out of thirty-six. Please tell me I'm just dreaming. KATHLEEN MCCORMICK '45 30 THE SCROLL

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Unexpeeted Guest T WAS Saturday morning and we were in the throes of spring housecleaning, Mother, appropriately attired in some five-year-old number, was whisking around with the sweeper. The rugs were up, the drapes were down, and the furni- ture was in the middle of the floor. My young cousin was beating out some boogie-woogie on the piano and Hearts in Harmony Qserialj was blaring from the radio. I, in my oldest pair of jeans, my hair in curlers, and my face smeared with cold cream, lay sprawled on the floor, translating Vergil Qfrom a ponyj. After a while I forgot Vergil and started thinking about my date last night. Bill Hammond was a Harvard man with the most sophisticated manner I had yet encountered. Last night I'd had a blind date, and although I had worn my black dress and tried my best to seem worldly, I hadn't made an im- pression. just then the doorbell interrupted my thoughts. Thinking it was jane, I screamed, Door's open. Cmon in. The door opened and closed again. Foot- steps approached and I expected to hear jane's usual Greetings, gates. But when it didn't come I glanced up from Vergil. First, I saw a pair of well- tailored and well-pressed trousers, and looking up further, saw the amused face of Bill Hammond grinning down at me. I clutched at my curlers and fervently wished I could fall through the floor. Regaining my composure slightly, I jumped up and asked him to sit down. Then, with horror, I realized that MARY LYNNE GIERINGER '45 the furniture was all piled in the middle of the Hoot and there was no place to sit. Sensing my embarrassment, Bill eased himself to the floor and sat down beside me. After an awkward pause on my part, he remarked pleasantly, Doing Latin? I snatched the pony and sat on it fl didn't want him to think I was illiteratelj and mumbled a reply. Then I began apologizing profusely for my ghastly appearance, saying that I looked like this very seldom. just then my young cousin popped up with, Don't believe her. She looks like that all the time at home and even worse sometimes. I could have cheerfully choked the little darling, but Bill laughed and said he didn't mind at all. I thanked him, men- tally, for being so kind. just then Mother called from the kitchen, Mary Lynne, you didn't drink your milk and you didn't take your vitamin pill. I winced and called back, I'm too old for milk. Mother answered that one with, Don't be silly, you're only sixteen. 1 winced again. QI had told Bill I was eighteenj Bill stayed about an hour, and in that hour I died a thousand deaths. But, wonder of wonders, when Bill walked out of the door, he said, ever so casually, Busy on Saturday night? I said no, accepted his offer of a date, shut the door, and gave many thanks to Fate for spring housecleaning, curlers, milk, my cousin, and everything except sophistica- tion. P.S. The next Saturday night I didn't wear my black dress and I've been dating Bill ever since. Disciple Timmy QContinued you ba-baptize me and make me like Him? Of course I will, Timmy. Within a few minutes Timmy was like Him. And then, with a look of celestial radiance on his face, he whis- pered, Father Glen, I5fefil'1sbLso won- from page 121 derful! Will you tell me some more about Him? Fa-Fa- No, Timmy would hear no more from Father Hamilton, but he was due to en- joy the rest of eternity with the Little Boy Who grew up to be King of every- thing. 32 THE SCROLL