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

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end of time, why it is so easy to get to Ardmore, and so difficult to get home. (An even deeper mystery, is the question of who collects the nickels from the pay telephones in each hall; not only who, but when and how?) In the village there have been many changes. In contrast to the dignified marble silence of the new Post Office, we can remember the old, and less resplendent building, that used to stand opposite the fire-house. It was a very convenient location, right next to the Five and Ten, so that we could attend to all our errands by going to the village and coming home over the back (or inland) route, and the overhead bridge. And in the old days, the Greeks, alias The Bryn Mawr Confectionery, alias The Meeting Place of the Main Line, was an establishment sans pareil. Now Meth ' s infringes on the Greek ' s clientele, and places such delicious looking papier-mache wedding cakes, and enticing cinnamon buns in the window, that Mike has been forced to redecorate with potted palms and aspidistras. While the village changes, the Inn goes on undisturbed. They have threatened us at various times with redecorating projects, changes in management, and other alarming plans, but whether or not these revolutionary schemes have been carried out, is a problem that can never be solved by the eye alone. The Inn looks the same as it did Freshman Year; the management ' s desk has been moved from corner to corner, and pink ruled order slips have been substituted for white, but the hot-dogs and hamburgers, the spinach and fudge cake, are of the same degree of excellence as of old. In the Lean Years, when we have given up our desserts for some charity, the Inn has been a Lambert Street Sugar Plum Tree, and we have wasted our substance there, and indulged our sweet teeth. In the spring, we have the 6:30 a.m. fire drill outdoors, and we waste hours sun- bathing. We take long walks, and the Circuit is a route that has proven so popular, that we feel it should be immortalized in map form. Rodni. Denbigh Dalton Wyndhar Vfey Sod Cu v« K

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So take it and browse, And be not affronted If our pens drowse, Or if they are blunted ; Yours to peruse, And yours to slander, Call it a goose, Or call it a gander ; We know you will use An absolute candor Concerning these leaves of nonsense we merrily place before you, Along with sweet lettuce, delectable, chosen food of the rabbit; Chew you as you read, O muse, with that sidelong, that breakfast habit; Though our book pall, we pray that these vegetables never bore you ! Balloons IF, in ten years ' time we have forgotten the details of Gresham ' s Law, or the terms of the Treaty of Utrecht, a trip to the public library will refresh our memories, but the homely details of our college life and our mutual reminiscences have nowhere been im- mortalized in print. This we undertake to do. Inconceivable as it now seems, the day may perhaps arrive when the excellent quality of Love ' s Pop Corn will be forgotten, and when we no longer remember the cigar store in Ardmore, which offers shelter to all those waiting for the bus, with the same unquestioning hospitality that characterizes the monasteries of the high Alps. No one, to the best of our knowledge, has ever seen an Ardmore bus schedule. We wait in the cigar store, in quiet faith hoping that a bus will soon be along; we send out scouts every so often to look down the Pike for the green and red lights of the bus. There is always a feeling of the greatest relief when it is finally sighted; the driver, when questioned, is always evasive about the schedule. And yet the Paoli Local is not very much more satisfactory. As we run to catch the train, we are invariably stopped on the wrong side of the tracks while a long and lumber- ing freight train passes by. As superstitious as African savages trying to ward off evil with Voodoo charms, we stand inactive, while the Local, beyond the freighter, pulls in and pulls out. In any case, we mistrust the Paoli. Only the most scintillating intellects among us have been able to master the succession of stations between Broad Street and Bryn Mawr, and the conductor ' s pronunciation of Wynnewood! has misled a number of us into disembarking there. It will probably remain an inscrutable mystery until the

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This walk is fraught with danger. Not only do cars whiz by, (notably the bus labelled Sisters of Mercy,) but in the past year or so, the Dog Menace has increased alarmingly. We are all devoted to the three little dogs who sit so dismally in front of the Library, and to the Scottie Elys, but the dogs we encounter on the Circuit are of a different calibre. At the Diez ' we almost always meet Siegfried, who springs upon the unsuspecting stranger, while Dr. Diez doffs the hat and gives many assurances of Sieg- fried ' s friendly intentions. A little further along two Airedales come racing down a hill, and growl unpleasantly from behind a frail fence. There is a group of Thurber- dogs, (having no particular characteristics,) who roam around together, and one of the houses on the Circuit has acquired a Doberman, who has a glint of fire in his eye, and who adds peril to the trip. Now that we are nearing the end of our last spring, we look with great fondness on the man who sells balloons and daffodils on the corner of Montgomery Avenue, and we will feel nostalgic in the years to come, whenever we think of the cherry trees in blossom down the walk to Goodhart, as we remember the first snow-drops in Wyndham garden, and the pansies that grow in the cold frames of the greenhouse opposite the Inn. We will remember long the twilights in the Deanery garden, where we could sit quietly after supper and listen to the little splash of the fountain. Ever since we first came to college, we have been told that we would look back on these days as quote the happiest days of our lives unquote. We have always been skep- tical, our minds filled with problems of exams to be passed, reports to be written, and Orals to be taken. And yet, in ten years ' time, it will probably seem to us that there is no honor so great as receiving a hoop, no excitement comparable to that of keeping our class animal a secret, no luxury so delightful as being able to take two hours off in the middle of the day to play solitaire, and no life so enjoyable as this one, which enables us to sit in each other ' s rooms until 4 a.m. and very solemnly talk and argue about nothing at all. 10