Buffalo Seminary - Seminaria Yearbook (Buffalo, NY)

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24 SEMINARIA 1943 when she was downtown with Mother, she saw a large, burly policeman sitting on a horse. As she crossed the street, she went up to him and asked, Do little girls -ever ride that horse? whereupon the policeman swung her into the saddle and rode with her down Main Street several blocks. Last year, after she went to the Christmas pageant at church, she wanted to be an angel. Grandma made her avpair of paper wings, and pinned them on her dress. When I came home, I found her lying on her round, little stomach, sobbing piteously. She looked up at me and said in a voice both poignant and wistful, But, Martha, I have wings, and I can't fly. MARTHA Cormzss, '45 MY HORSE Under color of old ivory Your muscles flow like cream, You wear satin for a garment, Without Wrinkle or a seam Which molds itself to beauty, As ripples to a stream. Heavilyfhoofed, you barely roughen The turf on which you stand, While your lip, exploring, finds The curved palm of my hand For the notfinfrequent sugar That is your sole demand. Lay a muzzle soft as satin On rough tweed, and undeterred, Flip your ears and gently nibble A boot no longer spurred, You and I have swom alliance Without need of any word. ARLINE SNYDER, '44

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SEMINARIA 1943 23 Blilhe Spirit PRIZE ESSAY She has that odd elfin way ahout her that helongs only to a fourfyear old. l Wheii she walks, she has a huoyant step, which is characteristic of her in- dividual charm and personality. Alf though she is little, she packs unhoundf ing energy into her diminutive size. Her eyes, which are a dark hazel, twinkle almost constantly, except when they are clouded occasionally hy large, salty tears. She has a lilting and infectious laugh which is typical of her happiness, and an ingratiating smile that warms even the coldest heart. 5.1.6. She is as complex and haflling as a lahyrinth. One moment she is sitting quietly looking at slWil1l1lC the Pooh, and the next moment she is out of doors, riding her pride and joy, an undersize tvvofwheeler hicycle. She ahhors peas and turnips and delights in green grapes and purple gumdrops. As she goes ahout her playing, she sings Deep in the Heart of Texas, and the Star Spangled Banner. When she goes for her daily walk, she counts service flags. It is her aspiration to stay up until Daddy goes to hed. At strange hours she frequents the kitchen for what she terms peanutfhutter sands, which consist of a piece of hread smothered on hoth sides with peanut hutter. Although Santa Claus has hrought her a myriad of dolls, she loves devotedly a rag doll of uncertain vintage that wears only a white cotton shirt. Each morning she is up at the crack of dawn. She hurries into Mother's and Daddy's room sing' ing Good lvlorning to Youl' at the top of her lungs, and if this fails to waken them, she goes hack to hed and picks out the letters of the alphahct she knows in her hooks. Her favorite pastime, however, is cutting ladies, her name in huge letters, and pictures of Hitler out of scraps of paper, freehand. In the afternoon she goes to kindergarten, and from the time she comes home until she goes to hed, she talks incessantly ahout her activities there. Do not for a moment think that her actions leave nothing to he desired. On the contrary, like everyone, she has her foihles. She is particularly fond of visiting the neighhors. and staying for dinner, and she cries lustily ifanyone tries to comh her soft hrown hair. Light hlue sailor dresses seem hest to suit her round face and pointed chin. Her small, retrousse nose, with its delicate sprinkling of freckles, has a way of hurrowf ing into your shoulder when she gives you a hug. She is as suhtle as a summer hreezc, and just as welcome. One day this summer,

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SEMINARIA IQ43 25 'l'l1nuqh I Shall Nut Be N ear Thee HONORABLE MENTION I was new at the Miss Regent's school. I walked up the broad, elmflined path, gazed at the grey stone mansion, and decided that it was a very pleasant school. Everyone was cordial. Miss Regent, a duplicate of my favorite aunt, looked at me with lovely greenfblue eyes. Well, Babs, I hope you like us as much as we expect to like you. I hoped so, too. This was Sunday morning and she introduced me to several of the girls sitting on the tufted grass or floating idly in the sheeny pool. Yes, I liked them-Betty, Alice, Patty, Jean, and Shirley, all were bright lively girls whom you would recognize as funflovers anywhere. They certainly did not believe in formality. Babs, do you like swimming? Do you play hockey? Do you know anyone at Harvard?-Dartmouth?-Yale? Do come take a sunbath! Then I asked one question, just one. By the way, who's going to be my roommate? Silence. Silence for a long, long time. Then-anxious grins of various degrees of sincerity accompanied the sudden burst of conversation. She's awfully nice-and cute-and sweet. Here she comes. I looked around at the lone Ggure gliding down the path. She wore her clothes beautifully. Her face, a little plump, held a beatific smile. How sweet, I thought, how very sweet. As she drew nearer, she held out her hand. In a clear, bellflike voice floated the words, Why, you must be Babs. My name is Gwendolyn Williams. We're to be roommates. She was beautiful to me just then, although, as soon as she left, I could not visualize her. That very afternoon, we set up housekeeping. Gwendolyn, although she had already moved in, had graciously saved the better bureau and softer bed for me. When I thanked her, she smiled, That's all right. You're new. She helped me put away my things and offered to show me around school. Then she insisted on helping me study for I had entered a week after the term had begun. By bedftime she looked more ethereal than ever, in a weary sort of way. Instead of being grouchy or gruff, she merely smiled. At the same time that I congratulated myself on having such an evenftempered roomfmate, I asked a few questions such as, What's the catchy how long does the good luck hold out? I discovered the answer