Saint Ursula Academy - Scroll Yearbook (Toledo, OH)

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nw fl! . is yt U if ll Nt llaqj lf ' .ffl l f jiu lk lk ll! ! Lf fe' i !fT? fV ! ! ! P' ' i f ffE3e , .gzVf' all ' s ' 6437521 . fps Gia two pages of the text and hurriedly leafed through to the end, seeking- seeking-seeking . , . Gregory's mind whirled like a coun- try boy at a city dance: VVhat did l say last? . . . 'You dolts, you geese, you worse than little clods' . . . clods . . . clods . , . thatls hunks of mud . . . dry lllllil . . . wet mud . . . well. anyway. mud . . . most likely dry mud . . . wet mud would be wet . . , yes. dry mud . . . and then what? . . . Oh. this is awful . . . am I sweating! VVhat'll mother think! . . . VVhat will the old man think! What'll the people think! . , . lly arms are dead . . . if they only were not over my head . . . l canlt keep waving them much longer . . . theylre dead . . . but they had to be over my head for the next line pulled them down . . . Nliss Humphries said it was the most important gesture in the act . . . but do I pull the mud down over me? . . . that,s not it . . . what DOES come after the clods? . . . a broom. a vacuum sweeper . . . Oh! Oh!!! my left arm has sunk down. ltls numb , . . Oh, thank God, the curtain is down, and my arms are down, and l'm down-and l've got to live in this town all my life!!! . While this was going on in Gregory's mind, his mother sat in the fourth row, center, and slowly went down for the third time under the waters of despair as she watched the downfall of her child as a Thespian. She was calm and un- moved in appearance as if viewing ob- jectively the failure of a perfect stran- ger. But her mind was racing: Go on . . . go on . . . go . . . on! Emphasis? , . . lfmphasis doesnlt demand that long a pause . . . A pause? . . . Rather an intermission. VVe could go home and return in this time . . . He's forgotten . . . he's forgotten . . , lvhy not be truthful with myself? . . . He just hasn't got it . . . Those love scenes . . . Ligh! . , . wooden as a hobby-horse . . . just like his father . . . all the fervor and Ere of a cook book . . . lf he keeps waving those arms any longer l'll scream . . . Uh! the audience is begin- ning to laugh! Somehow l must smile . . . grin . . , grimace . . . Oh! one of his arms fell . . . like a log . . . hels exhausted . . . Oh! there goes the cur- tain . , . Thank God! Thank God! . . . l'll have Greg fire that Humphries hag . . , hre her. . . Ere he1'! . . . fire her!! . . . fire her!!!!! ln the wings, Bliss Humphries lia- bored over the Christian slave. trying to improve her makeup so that the audi- ence would not abandon completely all belief in the pull of Christianity, VVhen Gregory forgot his lines, Kliss Hum- phries couldnlt move. For the life of her she could not move. She stood with a rabbit's foot dripping red powder, one arm firmly holding the Christian slave. Go on . . . go on . . . 'You think to pit the might of Rome against the power of the mind' . . . go on , . . go on . . . Prompt hi1n! Prompt him! . . . yell it at him . . . walk on stage and put it in his hand to read . . , Oh, the prompter has lost the place . . . look at the goose , . . leafing. . . leahng . . . leafing . . . Find it, you loon, find it . . . don't let him stand there . . , Oh, his arm is wavering . . . it's down . . . he's going to faint . . . Oh, whv did l ever pick him , . . just because his father is Pres- ident of the Board of lfducation . . . Ring down the curtain . . . the cur- tain!! . . . Oh, thank God. the curtain is down!!! The Spring Festival of the Fairchild High School was over. Inge Twenty-one

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Spring F estifva 4 HE Spring Festival of Fairchild High School was an annual event of great importance in the town of Galli-ard, Ohio. A theatrical ven- ture presented by the students, it offered the only live entertainment the citizens enjoyed since the Chautauqua Circuit was buried with VVilliam Jennings Bryan. Students grew gaunt and hag- gard from the hours of rehearsalg teach- ers got circles under their eyes like spare tiresg and education took a good licking, for classes were practically discontinued to accommodate the constant practicing. The show had gone along with only minor mistakes: the second gradels rhythm band had somehow or other gotten off the beat until it sounded like nautch dance music-which hadn't been heard in Galliard since carnivals were barred by a city ordinaneeg a fourth grade minuet had unfortunately crossed signals and the resultant bumping and tumbling looked like a scrimmage be- tween varsity and scrubs. But the high school department had gone rather well. There had been a minor flurry when the reading of the winning essay in lfnglish Composition produced a glar- ing grammatical error, unnoticed the judges who made the award. But nothing really serious had developed and the last act was now under wayg in fact. nearing its close, This final act was a bit of drama written by the Latin teacher, Nliss Humphries, a teacher of manv years in the Galliard system. Every four vears she produced a star pupil, and Galliard gained another pharmacist. This was one of her years. The scene of this sketch was laid in the Rome of the Caesars, the action revolving around the figure of .a Roman schoolmaster who risked a fatal end as lion-food by in- sisting that his students adhere to the rules of syntax and grammar. His students being the sons of Roman sen- ators. this was a daring thing to do- so the play went-for complaint to any Page Twenty Q of the fathers by his pampe1'ed students would have secured a new teacher and fed one more lion. Love interest was supplied by the passion of a senator's daughter for the schoolmaster, and the schoolmaster's true feelings for a Chris- ti-an slave. lt all ended very happily with the suicide of the patrician and the joyful union of teacher and slave-with starving lions off stage. The climax of the scene was the speech of the schoolmaster thundering in defiance, and cowing the students in- to parsing verbs in meek voices. This role of schoolmaster was entrusted to a senior named Gregory Thompkins, who rehearsed faithfully until he gave a faint imitation of a skinny llussolinig for Gregory was the frail, intellectual type in appearance. if not performance. Even at the dress rehearsal he had to be prompted so many times the act sounded like an echo. The part ,of the patri- ci-an's daughter was given to the most beautiful girl in the Senior class, and the part of the slave went to an A-stu- dent. This was the greatest example of miscasting since W. C. Fields played Hamlet at a Lamb's Gambol. All of Kliss Humphries, impassioned lines fell --v-.-..m.r+-.--V+-+-++ -.---.nv By Patricia McCarthy Q- -+40-4 -0- 'PH4'--4-JUP4 flat-Galliard just didn't believe Chris- tianity had that much pull. Somehow the scene creaked along with many promptings to Gregory until the mad turmoil of the speech to the students, The students cowered at their desks, before them raged Gregory Thompkins-and suddenly he went up in his lines. Then, with arms raised over his head shaking clenched fists, he waited despairingly for the prompter to rescue him. The prompter had turned

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From Cousin Laura 6 WON'T argue about it, llother. I just won't go if I have to wear a made-over dress. She knew she wasn't being fair at all to Nlom, -and that lXfIom's allotment checks went just so far and no farther. But this time was too important to be fair. But Sue, it won't be a made-over dress. If only yould put it on, you'd see that it fits you perfectly, lt's exactly what you would choose and it must have cost at least . . . Here Rlonfs voice trailed off. She certainly was no expert on expensive formals. Sue could remember when she actu- allly looked forward to those big boxes. sent every so often by wealthy Eastern aunts. Every box contained the usual assortment of clothes: a few drab un- appealing dresses that Nlom would cut down to fit her own slender figure -and a bundle of Cousin Laura's things, the lace and ruffles still fresh and pretty. But now at sixteen, Sue loathed these boxes because they contained the bar- riers that held her from exciting shop- ping trips. True, they provided her with things to wear, but nothing she could call her own. She almost loathed Laura. the unseen cousin whose Hour- grownsu she had worn ever since she could remember. And now one of the bundles had arrived just in time to climax the disaster of the junior dance. As if things weren't bad enough. Darling, please try it on. Cousin Laura has your coloring, and this shade of blue is just right for you. I'll press it and hang it in your closet. l know how you feel. but of course youlll go to the party. That was the last strawl How could lylom know how she felt about this tall-important dance. If she did, she wouldn't try to make her wear that dress. She just wouldn't do it, and thatls all there was to it. Don't bother, Nlom. Put it any- Page Twenty-Iwo 0 where you want. But you can't expect me to go to any formal in some one elsels dress. Sue was sorry the min- ute she had spoken, sorry over that cold tone. sorry her mother didnyt know the whole story. But she walked away with the air of having given up her heart's desi1'e to a cruel tyrant. Of course. she'd already made up her mind not to go to the dance even be- fore the box came. Chris Larsen asked her weeks ago, before she could think of any excuse for refusing, and Chris was well known as an Uodd number . She'd probably be stuck with him all evening, her only hope of cut-ins being to wear a knockout new dress. She didn't even glance at Cousin Laura's Hold rag , hanging in her closet. And on Xlonday she began her explana- tion to the gang. Of all thingsfy she spoke out in the middle of her soda, it looks as if my father might get a furlough Satur- day. Natuually it's not definite, but l'd like to be there if he does. f'Really, Susie. you don't have to 'QYifil' 'O' 'I' '4 lf'4' ? O 'vlr1lfi l By Mary Pat Brunner make excuses for us, Golly, lid sure hate to be stuck with that big Swedefl That was her pal, Barbara, who could afford to be generous since she was go- ing with the class president. HOh, l don't mind about Chris, she said in a tone that implied that was just what she did mind. After all, Chris Larsonls folks were foreigners and nobody knew them. He was queer too, spoke perfect English, better than most kids. He seemed to be in good standing with the boys but never paid much attention to the girls.