Barstow School - Weathercock Yearbook (Kansas City, MO)

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,O THE XVliA'liI-USR-KIOCK Flavor of novelty to the daily routine of the new year. lhis. as some may have all-Cady gugggcd, was the first day of school. that sensational, chaotic. topsy-turvy day, when periods pass by all unrung. and rules are not yet born. But after these first few days, when thc shine was in danger of being a bit dulled, and the frost was beginning to bite the trees. came the call to arms. Yes, those were really hockey sticks in the gym! Be sure to put your names on them and look out for your s!1,ins. ' And the non-com- batants. if they would not play, had the exquisite pleasure each morning of watching their friends limp stifny into the Academic room, Having tried the mcttle of the brave newcomers by these knocks and blows, we resolved to test the others by another method. A cross- country run and dinner at the Winn farm was our decision. and the remark- able fortitude of this band in eating strawberry ice-cream covered with maple syrup. jelly, and salt, has been handed down as a vivid part of the school history. And through all this we had been getting acquainted. Now we were calling everyone by her first name, there were no longer any new girls, school was very much in danger of becoming ordinary routine. But the fates never have apportioned that lot to our school. Some elf had whispered in the ear of the calendar-maker. and Halloween was marked with a red letter for us, Needless to say, we seized upon it with all its possibilities. classes organized and made their sole aim in life concealment of Someihing from other classesg we carried lumpy and mysterious bundles from home to school and from school home: pianos and voices could be heard drum- ming out old familiar tunes, muffied by closed doors. The faculty seemed to jump backwards into their teens. altho' they couldn't seem to cease being the arm of the law. But who shall disclose the mysteries of that magic night? Then came basket-ball, and along with it the old wails for bloomers, middies, shoes, pins. ties and lost keys. Many and strange were the costumes that were wont to appear on our dusty oval,-marvelous head-dresses. and bachelor shoes, as one discouraged player dubbed her vari-colored footwear. And oh! the excitement of the nrst real game of the year. and the glorified triumph of the conquering sophomores, and that still more glorious victory, when, after weeks of Miss Dunlaps training. we for the first time vanquished an out-of-town school. and found that dread. mys- terious band from Miss Wests School in the end neither giants nor titans, but only girls like unto ourselves. Soon afterwards came a dawn when small. white envelopes were thrust into the hands of a favored few,-those well-known messengers, bringing joy, and fear. and surprise. For that body known as The Pre- tenders had been watching and choosing, Then began the custom of

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THE YEAR Q, To catch the spirit of this ambrosial time. to re-create the characters who have helped create us.-for who among us has not absorbed something of Shakespeare?-this is a task to stagger weakness, to expose mediocrity, but to inspire greatness. The greater the subject, the greater the man whomasters it. We could not bear to have our Shakespeare desecrated by a mean spirit: but a poet, and a poet only. may idealize a poet. lf Noyes had written a ditty to a dragon fly or. mayhap. i'An Ode to His Mistress's Eyebrow. he would have been a pleasing versifier only. But instead he wrote Tales of the lvlermaid Tavernlu. bold. unabashed by the magnitude and scope of his undertaking. And his own song deserves his own praise of Shakespeares UVenus and Adonis. A round. sound. full-blown piece of thorough work. On a great canvas, colored like one l saw ln ltaly, by one-Titian! None of the toys Of artistry your lank-haired losels turn. Your Phyllida-l-uve-lies-bleedingA-Kiss-me-Quicks. Your fluttering sighs and lVIark-how-I-break-my-beats, Begotten like this. whenever and how you list. Your Moths of verse that shrivel in every taperi But a sound piece of craftsmanship to last Until the stars are out lf a storm should shake The Tower of London down, Will's house would stand. AMARETTE ROOT. IQI4, The Year bookshelves and boxes, until, by breakfast time. we had amassed quite a hoard of dog-eared. ink-bespattered books. We swallowed our breakfasts in a rush. Then on with our burdens, until we reached the long-loved yellow building, waiting with wide open doors to welcome us. From within there came a buzz of many voices. We climbed the stairs with. as we fancied, an air of resignation1 the shining gilt letters of the NVeathercock E got up early that crisp, October morning and looked through library brought a tinge of sadness, as we thought. of the dear old seniors who had worked so hard for them. But the gloom was soon dispersed. for even the most persecuted martyr could not remain depressed while being slapped on the back. held up for inspection, dragged up. down, and around to be introduced to new girls, new teachers, new desks. new rooms, new anything. The old things we greeted with delight. because they were old, and we knew their every scratch and splinter. the new things we hailed with equal joy. because, while the newness lasted, they would add the

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THE YEAR II lvlonday morning talks: blue lX4onday turned rose color. and never did a girl fail to reach her seat long before school had begung for who would linger on the way when good Queen Bess and her gallant Drake were due to visit us. who would miss a moment of College Life, or 'iSuffragettes, or Strikes? At last Father Christmas called for attention, and we were determined to give him such a welcome as he never received before. Prophets and shepherds came from the olden days. a host of heavenly angels swooped down from on high, singing joyous carols. and, with savory odors drifting 'round. came snowy cooks with cakes and ale to help us celebrate the Yule tide. But over all these festivities, a cloud had been hovering threateninglyg now it descended in earnest. The freshman's face no longer beamed from behind her desk top. the sophomore sternly faced the front of the room. the juniors sat silent and depressed. even the seniors grew morose and unsociable. Examinations were upon us. Wednesday the storm gatheredl Friday it lifted. as, paper by paper, the spell was being shaken off, and, altho' still dazed, we actually crept forth, at the end of the three days, into the sunlight again. Suddenly we came to our senses. The first term was ended! Eleven whole weeks of school had passed, and we had not felt the lapse of hours. Eleven whole weeks full of work and fun. And yet some pretend to think school a burden! And oh! how we welcomed it again, when it came as a peaceful release from two weeks of luncheons, dinners, dances. card parties, and teas.-all fun, but too much of it. Too snowy for basket-ball, too cold for hockey, or too wet for cross-country walks, what restful times we had. Then it was that we turned to our row of poets. We even enjoyed our lessons. It was fun to write stories, fun to read German and French, even fun to translate Virgil. We found we had minds as Jvell as bodies,-and we loved the discovery. Now must the Pretenders again come forth as gallant gentlemen in cocked hats, gay coats, and skirts, or fine ladies in middy- blouses, to enliven our conference period with vivid scenes from The Rivals. Kenilworth or 'iHenry Esmond. At this time we were not so entirely absorbed in our own selves that we failed to catch news of the Fuller sisters in Chicago. with their old ballads. Now we had studied those ballads, laughed at them, learned them, loved them, and here they were in their original form almost within our reach. And Miss Witham. who had hrst planted this affection in our minds, and knew how we would love to hear them, went to Chicago to bring them here, and within that very week we had the good fortune to hear those delightful folk songs and their still more delightful singers in memory of whom three groups of Lucca Della Robbias singing boys, now hanging in our upper hall, pour out strains of unheard melodies.