Agnes Scott College - Silhouette Yearbook (Decatur, GA)

Page 7 text:

mm You ' ve Come To The Right Place BULLSEYE With the closing of summer comes the opening of another session at Agnes Scott College. A V-formation of students heading to Atlanta for the winter, closes, then lands in the Quad, and gaggles of girls honk, wave, waddle, and weave their way in the direction of the dorms. By girls, of course, I mean the Freshies. The Sophomores stepped through the looking glass somewhere over the summer, and like Alice, grew and grew. I am astonished at the subtle nuances in rearranged flesh, reflective expressions, and (forgive me, Gloria Steinem) ladylike demeanor which marks their magical passage into womanhood. The Juniors have frequented this sanctuary often enough to have accumulated quite a lot of baggage, and they are sweating buckets as they lug trunks, album collections, two hundred ticket stubs and assorted other foolishness up the stairs. The project of nesting will take them well into November. The grandest geese of them all are the Seniors. They are confident. They know the territory well. They thrust their faces high into the air. They sniff the wind continuously, seeking only one scent: Spring. Still, there are squeals and hugs and back-poundings as friends find one another. The geese flap their wings and dance a little webfooted jig. And how was your summer? A friendly nudge of bills. Great, and yours? A softer flapping of wings. They preen a little, honk a little, then back off a few steps. Well, gee, it sure is great to see you again. A final flap, barely perceptible, that borders on a shiver. A continuous glance to right and left. Well, I gotta get this mess upstairs. Gosh, it ' s great to see you! They dance a little circle, bow, then tuck their wings quietly to themselves. The pinfeathers wave left-right-left-right as they go their separate ways, eyes downcast, contemplating the path. The little circle their feet made on the bricks frames a target. Deep within the verdant crown of the big oak tree is a single yellow leaf. It perches momentarily, sighs in the promise-laden breeze, then dives off and flutters down the branches. The library windows shudder as it crashes into the center of the circle and curls upon itself. BULLSEYE.

Page 9 text:

A True-Life Saga VISIONS OF GRANDEUR ... or the heart- break of moving in As today ' s episode opens, we follow our heroine, Freda the Freshman, as she makes her seventeenth trip up three flights of stairs. (Little does she know there is an elevator just around the corner.) Behind her is Daddy with a box of records in the one hand, a bucket in the other, and an extension cord around his neck. Freda, he gasps, are you sure your big sister told you to bring these things? Mama leads the way, smiling upon everyone she meets. Now honey, why don ' t you just let me make up your bed? All too soon, Freda ' s faithful guardians depart and she is left in a room full of boxes, sagging beds, and a strange girl named Francis from Florida. Will Freda survive two weeks of hall, dorm, Orientation, faculty, and class meetings? Can she overcome the awful burden of 4.726 times as much studying as she did in high school? Will she learn how to shag in time for Rush Week? Tune in next week for the answer to these and other questions — (namely the ones on her first midterm . . .)