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

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«i Hennessey Pennessey Tootled the Flute 1) RYN Mawr was still very new to us when Parade Night arrived — and we - rolled down the hill to the hockey field roaring out our Caisson Song to the boom boom of the Firemen ' s Band. With this successful invitation into the traditional activities of Bryn Mawr, we were really beginning to feel at home. When Lantern Night came, we, clad in caps and gowns for the first time, burst forth with Greek anthems . . . triumphant after having recited what we thought was cultural jibberish to the Juniors. We had to drop our Red Lanterns for Midsemesters and English papers, but along with the snow in December, came the excitement and bustling of pre- parations for going home. We found plenty of time to enjoy the caroling of the Maids and Porters, and the Glee Club. As for Christmas dinner, don ' t think for a minute that our eyes weren ' t opened by the goings-on — professors playing like students and students playing masters of ceremonies; wreaths of cigarette smoke and wreaths of holly in the dining room; tomato juice cock- tails and hors d ' oeuvres in the show cases where afterwards we, the freshmen, performed like trained seals. After Christmas vacation, we jumped from the Paoli Local into the Freshmen Show. (Note: avoiding all mention of mid-terms and more long papers.) We thought well of ourselves ... six hundred tons of loveliness in gorgeous techni- color. Our chorus was not to be equalled and even the Sophomores were sub- dued by the notorious Devil Dance of Love, Fret, and Cheers .

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Ku Klux Klan Spring comes every year and likewise May Day at Bryn Mawr, but we shall always re- member our last spring and our last May Day. Lady Luck did a slight flip over when that May Day came — the patter of rain and the roar of wind mingled with our voices as we pleaded with the sun from the towe r of Rockefeller. The rain could dampen everything but our en- thusiasm as we one, two, three, skipped , once again with the aid of the Fireman ' s Band, to Merion Green. After the traditional dancing and crowning of our class president, we more or less gratefully adjourned with sniffly noses to Goodhart Hall for the remainder of the cere- monies. At least, it hadn ' t been cold . . . But then it was spring. It had hit Bryn Mawr like a bolt of lightning — the rain on May Day must have had something to do with it. The scenic loveliness of the campus was con- ducive only to sunbathing, the inn, and the movies. We tugged in the interminable war between comprehensives and spending a fifth spring at Bryn Mawr. We stoically resigned ourselves to spectacles and books — neverthe- less, in the sun. We sang out Good-byes on the steps but more talented representatives of our class made more official farewells to the college on Class Day. We mournfully said goodbye to the things which we had known for the last four years. We said goodbye to the traditions which we had inherited and also to several things which we hope will never become traditions: the line in the Bookstore for cigarettes, no but- ter with English muffins. Isn ' t this pretty ' : ' Tivas the night before Christmas Page twenty-seven