Brearley School - Brearley Book Yearbook (New York, NY)

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jane was surprised to find herself trembling all over as though something exciting had happened. Funnyg she hadn't seen Christina for years and didn't want to. Her own friends were probably much more interesting. But Christina certainly used to be able to make her feel like someone that shouldn't have been born! And if she had condescended to play with jane every day! Why, jane would have been in the seventh heaven. Horrible, the power you give to people by admiring them! And oh, how infinitely better for a girl to find friends her own age, that fitted her, like water seeking its own level. Jane, broke in Mother's voice, Cousin Alice is going uptown on the bus. Maybe you could go along with her as far as Eightieth Street. Heavens! It was quarter of one. Mother, jane cried, look how late it is! I'll have to take the subway and run. So sorry, Cousin Alice. It was awfully nice seeing you. Give my love to Peggy. And Mother, be sure to tell Eileen nicely. Put in something about poor Winnie left alone and I had to go. You know, nicely. MARGARET KIDDER l 51 J

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against her left leg. At that laughter, the wave of hate in her reared itself to a tremendous height, towering above all else in her mind. Quickly she raised the whip and cut with all her force across Mary Crawly's neck and something in her laughed and shrieked to see the red weal leap into place. Grim and exult- ing, she waited for them to turn and destroy her, but to her surprise and almost disappointment they did nothing of the sort. Mary gave a little squeal and clapped her hands to her neck. Christina and Viccy put their arms around her. Poor Mary, it'll be all right in a minute -- It must hurt terribly, such a mean thing to do! Is it better now ? Oh, such a big red mark! How horrid to hit somebody from behind! jane stood and watched and the wave retreated 'leaving the shores bare and desolate. Never in her life had she felt so miserable but she must do some- thing to justify herself. Now maybe you won't tease me at Christina's, she muttered. Christina turned her head and looked, and Jane's flesh crawled. No, indeed, she won't! Christina cried. And do you know why? Wlmy, because you aren't ever coming to my house any more, jane Curtis, never again! You're a mean nasty girl. Mary never did anything to you! I'm sorry I ever met you! Poor Mary! Is it better now? Come on to my house and mother'll put some medicine on it. jane watched them go. It was all wrong, horribly wrong. She wanted to cry out in desperation, Christina, Christina, wait and let me tell you about it! She did do things to me, she did, she did, much worse than hitting. Oh, wait, Christina, you don't understand! Jane walked back to the hedge. No use playing now. No, I don't want to, she told the eldest Cartwright boy. He looked at her admiringly. Gee, you certainly slashed her one, hc said. That ought to show her! Yes, she answered, but underneath surged a cold Hood of black misery, a leaden feeling of doubt. Yes, said Cousin Alice's voice, It's terrible the things that happen nowadays. Right in one's own town. Did you heat about the King's furnace man? E501

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PROVENCE WINE Facing the sapphire sea's peaceful expanse, There rolls a fertile valley, warm, serene, Encased in rocky peaks where nature plants The prickly scrub and tall dark evergreen. Here, in the vineyards, autumn paints a spot Of gold and orange on her scarlet suit, And sweetens purple grapes, but touches not The silver olives laden with black fruit. A sip of muscatel carried my mind Back to the tfendmzge in this sunny plain. Outdoors, around the tables where they dined, The bright-clothed pickers sang a gay refrain. The taste faded away. I heard winds beat And saw snow melting in the grimy street. PAULINE MANSHIP THE BOY The boy is in an offensive position, fighting the good fight against the biased feminine opinion that surrounds him. In the matter of dress his sisters must confess themselves vanquished, for their great chic and discrimination have not prevailed against his healthy male impulses. Somewhere he has re- ceived the impression that it is sissified to get a hair-cut, this impression, coupled with a natural dread of a barber's shears, results in his head's looking like a study of Neolithic man. His eyes are green fthis has for eleven years caused consternation among the Dawsonsj, and his teeth are still coming out and growing in again, a little ragged at the edges. He infinitely prefers an awful pair of corduroy knickers to more respectable clothes, indeed he will fight tooth and nail if you suggest that he wear a necktie. Wlien he is greatly vexed with his sisters, he will unbuckle his knickers at the knee, because he considers this wounding to their sensibilities. His room is filled with as odd an assortment as his pockets: Lithuanian daggers, a bloodstained sword from the Civil War, several pictures of Lilyan Tashman, and some of his own studies of pumas, jaguars, and tigers adorn the walls. One large table near the window displays several bowls of sea life- tropical fish and gupies look through their walls at red ram's-horn snails and l52l