Abbot Academy - Circle Yearbook (Andover, MA)

Page 17 text:

not dampened and we elected our officers, having but a president for the academic and college class and one secretary and treasurer for both. The first excitement came on our moonlight ride to Haggett ' s Pond. It will be a long time before we forget that drive home and our eager interest in the stars. Then on February 13th came our dance for the Senior-Mids and friends. Miss Kelsey gave the girls and their guests a delightful tea in her rooms, the afternoon before the dance. Many things crowded the days; the tea given to the school by the ladies of the South Church, the Abbot luncheon in Boston, and other events filled the time. Miss Bailey ' s visit to the school came soon after the luncheon and during her stay with us she quite won the heart of every girl. We regret that we are not to be here at Abbot with her. For a play we departed from the realm of Shakespeare and chose an Irish faery tale, The Twig of Thorn. The play was a success, certainly, if our pleasure in preparing it can count for success. The characters will cling to some for a long time and many a phrase still slips out unawares. With Field Day over there only remain the special Senior func- tions. As our last year at Abbot draws to a close and the banquet and commencement exercises come nearer, our hearts grow sad to think of leaving Abbot. Some of us go to college, and some this year end their schooldays, but for all a certain phase of life is closing. We hope in the new phases opening before us we may show true Abbot spirit. R. D. 15

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Class tstorp X a certain Saturday morning in September, 1910, a notice appeared on the little bulletin board, with the message that all Senior-Mids were to meet in Abbot Hall. At the ap- pointed time, quite a large number, mostly new girls, had come together. With the aid of the Senior President, we elected our own president — Winifred Fairchild, an old girl, and then our other officers. For our color we chose yellow, and the chrysanthemum as the class flower. We started out most enthusiastically and full of interest in every phase of school life. Some of our class went in for athletics and did their best to help the class to win in the Indoor meet, and on Field Day, but both times we lost to the Seniors. Our first really tangible successes came with our Play in the winter term and our Banquet, held very near the end of the year, and thus we closed our year as Senior-Mids. The real end, perhaps, was when the Seniors presented our president with the spade on graduation day. This fall we came back to do our part as Seniors and old girls in taking the place of the large number of Seniors of 1911 and other girls who were not back. Miss Means had gone and Miss Kelsey was acting principal for the year. During the summer we felt our first sorrow in the loss of our President, Winifred Fairchild. When we came to organize we found our members sadly diminished, so we started in the fall with but four academic seniors and eight or nine college seniors. Our ardor was 14

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tgns of prtng In several localities The different signs of spring Are seeing young leaves coming out And hearing birdies sing; But Abbot is a different place From those that you have seen, And here the signs of spring are Rounds And the Circle growing green. In Thursday morning chapel Mr. Ashton takes the chair, And after hymns picks out tor us A charming little air — Of little curious, thirsty flies That drink like you and me, And then we sing it over In parts one, two, and three. We must sing our words distinctly So that everyone may hear, And must never, never sing Grey Tom, But ' Great Tom loud and clear, For Mr. Ashton stops us Wherever we may he With, I think we ' ll do that over, And a better attack on The. And now, our other sign of spring, The Circle growing green, Is of absorhing interest To all that it have seen. We talk of it at table and We nearly always say, You really wouldn ' t have believed Twould get so green today. We used to have another sign That ' s not been heard this year, And the lateness of the season Is not to blame, we fear. We miss our serenades, but We must rely, we ' ve found, On the greener growing Circle And the ever-present Round. 16 M. F. S.