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Page 21 text:
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Snapshots of This Years Calendar It SEPTEMBER • To stort the year in tune, the old girls entertained the new girls at a Costume Party. This year we garbed our- selves as youngsters and frolicked as we did in the post- bellum days of ' 21. OCTOBER • Hilariously amusing was Stunt Night when each class exerted itself to oufshine the others by presenting the cleverest stunt and winning the coveted banner. This year the juniors, presenting a program of three one- act plays, were the winners. DECEMBER To add zest to the thrill of Christmas Vacation, the eve of our departure was celebrated in true Yuletide fashion. The Christmas Dinner was a huge success. The spirit of the occasion was heightened by the traditional festivi- ties — the turkey, the boar ' s head, the comical jester, and the songs in the dining hall adding greatly to the merriment. Following this, the lovely Carol Service was held in the Chapel. JANUARY • After the all-consuming dragon, Mid-year Examinations, had been overcome, we reveled at Mount Rainier over the week end, skiing, sliding, and enjoying all the winter sports. FEBRUARY • The Seminary turned out en masse at the Junior Frolic. We tripped the light fantastic beneath a galaxy of silver stars in the gym, which was made gay by balloons, serpentine, and confetti. Next to the Prom, the Frolic is the most important dance of the year and provides the focus of much excitement. MARCH • The big event of this month was, of course, Spring Vaca- tion. The night before our departure the Blue-Gold Basketball Game, which was won by the Blues, was held in the gym, which rang with the shouts and cheers of enthusiastic spectators. APRIL • The Junior Promenade, a dance long to be remembered, was held in the Great Hall of the Seminary. Preceding it was a dinner given for the juniors and seniors and their guests at the Tacoma Hotel. Novel decorations were achieved by the use of stars of silvered leaves and blue hyacinths, blue and silver being the class colors. The star motif was carried out also in the programs. MAY • The coming of May was celebrated by Dad ' s Day. Dads and daughters enjoyed a hilarious afternoon of games followed by dinner during which all sang songs, the dads particularly excelling. Next, the School Picnic at Surprise Lake claimed the spotlight, affording an opportunity for boating, hiking, and over-indulgence of appetites. JUNE • The end of the school year. The Masque depicting the history of the Seminary from early times up to the pres- ent: Class Day, and the planting of the senior tree with the historic spade; Baccalaureate with the rays of the setting sun shining through the chapel windows; the grand culmination — Graduation Exercises — have made one of the happiest years ever passed at the Seminary.
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Page 22 text:
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Panorama of a Port Land of the Buffalo ThE bronzed, half-naked ne- groes burdened with unwieldy sacks of coffee marched in a never-ending line to the hold of the ship. In the glaring heat of the mid-day sun, their gleaming copper bodies contrasted vividly with their white trousers rolled high on burnished legs. They seemed indefatigable as they hastened to and fro from the inner sanctum of our ship to the mountainous heaps of baize sacks piled on the docks. Fascinated, we watched them from the upper deck. The heat was intolerable to us, and we marveled at these strong black men as they labored. When we glance away from the incessant line of work- ers, we feel the mystery, the color, and the bizarre beauty which characterize tropical ports. Santos is no exception. There are the indolent lawn-suited white men, the stolid negresses with their wares of coral and luscious fruits, the pyjama-coated Spaniards and Portu- guese. Coated they must be when appearing on the streets, for such is the law of Brazil as well as of several other South American countries. From the other side of the deck, small brown boys are performing feats of diving for the mere pittance of a penny or a ten-cent piece. Their lithe young bodies cleave the water with hardly a toss of spray. Whole families, we learned, are often supported on the earnings of a young diver. The pervading fragrance of the coffee drew our atten- tion back to the ship ' s cargo. The mountains of sacks were mere hills now. The deck ' s rail was almost unbear- ably hot to the touch. The tropical sky was cloudless. Heedless, the chain of porters pursued their task. Petty Tobias, ' 35. Song Once in a silver spring f heard a bird sing, And on the bird ' s song My joy took wing. Up through the clear blue sky, Up to air castles high, My joy on the song, Glad live and glad die . Then plunging down it flew, Joy, and the bird ' s song too. For who is there, who Would glad live if he knew Joy is soon through? Sorrow is long. So ends the song. Frances Crawford, ' 36. Unprepossessing in appearance and a little moth-eaten is my father ' s buffalo-skin coat. Although it has been banished to the darkness of an unfrequented nook, it shines forth as a symbol of the trials, hardships, and bravery with which a nation is built. In the winter days when forty miles from Fort Benton to Freezeout were traveled by sleigh, a buffalo coat was a much needed and coveted article of apparel. In those same days, many white men were the Indians ' friends. To one of these white traders, a buffalo coat of well-matched skins and fine workmanship was given by an Indian Chief, Red Moccasin. Such was the spirit of good fellowship that reigned at Fort Benton, a thriv- ing trading post. All winter Red Moccasin and his tribe rode the snow-covered plains on their sure-footed cow ponies, hunting the buffalo and antelope to sell to the traders in the spring. In this manner many winters passed until the Blackfeet were forced by white soldiers to leave their country. Broken-hearted, Red Moccasin led his people to the tar hills, losing many men and many horses on the way. Fort Benton was no longer a flour- ishing trading post; trappers and traders departed, but the young man in the buffalo coat remained. For he loved the snow-capped mountains, the tall trees, the sun-scorched plains, and all the mystery of the wild, wide country. With other straight-shooting pioneers who came and tarried there, he braved the dangers con- fronting settlers in that land of freedom and friendliness. Although Red Moccasin has gone to the Happy Hunting Ground, and the buffalo coat sleeps in forgetfulness, the spirit of the old West, staunch, unquenchable, lives on in the young trader, now grown gray. It lives in the heart of my father. Tishelle Hirshberg, ' 36. Tarnished Gold A shaft of golden sunbeams Sifted through the trees, And stencil ed there a pattern On the green and mossy floor. The awe of God ' s full beauty Brought me to my knees, And my heart near burst from pressure Of the gladness that it bore. Then the dust-flecked sunbeams faded, As cold darkness o ' er it won: The trees grew old. as shadows On their wrinkled bark were cast. The sun-bathed scene soon darkened Like a happy song that ' s done, Though the melody haunts the hearer- After many hours have passed. Betty Garretf, ' 36.
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