Bryn Mawr College - Bryn Mawr Yearbook (Bryn Mawr, PA)

Page 13 text:

Next year we were right on the spot, tra la, With many a gobble-un hoot We made the environment hot, tra la, And mewed, till we mewed ourselves mute. Explained, as a class, what was what, tra la, Retailed the advice we had got, tra la, And whether they liked it or not, tra la, Threw in some suggestions to boot. Then soon with a jubilant yowl, tra la, We encouraged the Babes on their way, And the Critics remarked with a scowl, tra la, Every Junior (and dog) has his day. And I heard the collegiate owl, tra la, (A most economical fowl), tra la, Say They ' re squandering many a joule, tra la, If I know anything about they. But with our advance in years, tra la, We have had to grow tactful and tame, And describe by mere ladylike cheers, tra la, Our love of this boisterous game. As we cheer for the gay little Dears, tra la, In voices bedewed with tears, tra la, Incredible though it appears, tra la, We are jealous, but are we to blame? Dorothy Child.

Page 12 text:

(it ' s all in the point of view.) The day I remember the best, tra la, Is one that I love to recall, When all of us loudly professed, tra la, A desire to rush On through the Hall. They told you to march two abreast, tra la, So you clutched someone ' s shoulders with zest, tra la, Yelling words that are ever unguessed, tra la, (As the girl they were pinned to was tall.) The Sophomores made such a roar, tra la, That you couldn ' t hear yourself croak. They taunted with posters and gore, tra la, Missing no innuendo or joke. You dreaded each stairway and door, tra la, You seldom put foot to the floor, tra la, And the Sophomores, fearing to bore, tra la, In your ear noises queer would poke. When we got to the Arch of our Dream, tra la, We were scarlet, untidy, and hoarse. I have heard things are Not what they Seem, tra la, So I guess that nobody used force. Miss Maltby emerged from the stream, tra la, And helped us to scream as a team, tra la, And finding that We were the Cream, TRA LA, We got stuck on ourselves, of course.

Page 14 text:

Ctoo Gentlemen of Petona What is there in the world like seeing one ' s first college play? Nothing. It is an unique experience. The first we beheld, as a class, in Bryn Mawr, was 1908 ' s Sophomore Play, The Two Gentlemen of Verona, and it burst upon our wondering Freshman sight as a Vision of Perfection. That it was Shakespeare was impres- sive enough in itself ; add further that it was romance and that the hero and heroine were Emily Fox and Myra Elliott, and the spell is cast. It was light and color to our eyes — from Lucetta ' s yellow silk house gown to the rich browns and russets of Julia ' s forest disguise; from Silvia ' s pansy-colored velvets and satins to Valentine ' s lilac-and-yellow brocade. It was music to our ears — from the soft notes of the Silvia serenade to the laughter of Launce and Speed. The scenery was wonderful, the staging was flawless, the rendering of the lines was sublime. Miss Thomas informed us later in chapel that in this play Shakespeare was not at his best. Well, if so, 1908 more than made up his deficiencies. Let others criticise. To us it re- mains inviolable, beyond the touch of earthly years. Pleasaunce Baker.