Buffalo Seminary - Seminaria Yearbook (Buffalo, NY)

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SEMINARIA IQ43 27 the newlyfstripped pillow, and grew hysterical. With a sigh of rapture I reached to my desk and pulled at a narrow blue book that had a white marker stuck in the middle. The volume of poems was nine days overdue from the library, but it was well worth the fine to be able to recite in a triumphant voice, Go, forget me! Why should sorrow O'er that brow a shadow fling? Go, forget me, and tofmorrow Brightly smile and sweetly sing! Smile-though I shall not be near theeg Sing-though I shall never hear thee! With a purely malicious purpose, I danced around the room, overturning every' thing in sight as I repeated in a singfsong refrain, Smile-though I shall not be 'near theeg Sing-though I shall never hear thee! BABETTE Bum, '43 0 CHANGES Have you ever noticed how people change- With the seasons? This summer he was warm as the burning sands where we met, He chilled with the autumn winds And now- When we meet His words are as nonchalant and cool As the feathery snowflakes That swirl about our heads And his heart- Is carved of ice. I SUZANNB MISCHKA, '44

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26 SEMINARIA IQ43 within the next few days: Gwendolyn was a martyr. She and the Last Duchess had much in common, for Gwendolyn, too, smiled, no doubt, Whene'er I passed her, but who passed without Much the same smile? As the days crept by, my annoyance at her increased, and yet she continued to be the dearest, most considerate friend a person could have. If I decided to go skating, and did not invite her along, I did not get reproaches, I got a smile. If I did not clean up my part of the room, I would return to a shining room and an equally shining Gwen who would ask if there were anything she could do for me. Finally, I had to admit to myself that she was thoroughly distasteful to meg in fact, I hated her. Whereas she had seemed ethereal, she now looked like some sleek Gargoyle whose face is carved into an everlasting leer. I began to interpret all her actions towards me as mocking and resentful. At night, if she appeared in my dreams, it would be as a witch, with her sweet face slightly altered till it had a round, nasty, smiling, cynical, supercilious, sneering expression. I looked for the symf pathy in the faces of the other girls which they so willingly gave. I tried snubbing herg it did no good. I tried to forget the past and look at her anew, it did no good. I tried to be pleasant, to hide my feelings entirely, it certainly did no good. I was very fortunate in that the school year was comparatively short. I kept myself busy as best I could-swimming, taking frequent trips to town, and stay' ing with the other girls. I grew patient and resigned. Small lines of misery and selffpity soon appeared on my face, but as soon as I realized what a martyr I was becoming, I quickly recovered. About an hour each evening I spent in the sound- proof music room. Here I would bang on the piano, yelling and scolding at the blank wall all the while. Here I would release all the steam I had accumulated during the day. Most of all, here I kept a calendar, counting ten times an evening the little red numbers that constituted the remainder of school. One month, three weeks, ten days-for some strange reason the time flew by. I found out that Gwendolyn had to leave half a day early in order to meet her parents-I banged on the piano for only half an hour that night. I grew more and more cheerful as the last day approached. I awoke the final moming, radiant. I helped her pack. I said Goodbye, and It certainly has been fun. As she smiled sweetly I almost let go, but not quite. I stood at the top of the stairs and watched her go down. I raced to the window and gleefully watched the graceful, hated Hgure disappear along the broad, elmflined walk. I watched the tiny speck ride away in a taxi. Then I looked up, conscious of what had passed out of my life. I let out a' whoop, and, diving onto the bed, I hugged the blue and white ticking of

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28 SEMINARIA 1943 Influence A heavy umbrella of smoke gathered over four men as they allowed their cigars to bum on while they played cards. Each man was in his late forties but had already made his name famous as a leader in his own particular line. Cne was an editor of a large newspaper, next was a sternfchinned Admiral, the third, a man' ager of a large steel concern, and the last, a doctor. Several years ago they had met here at the club to play cards, but since the war had broken out they had played rarely because the Admiral was so infrequently there. They talked in low voices, occasionally laughing at bygone times, and when the card game was finished they eased back in their Morris chairs and sipped their drinks. A loud knock was heard on the cardfroom door as a young boy in the Army Air Corps made his entrance and interrupted the quiet interlude with an abrupt greeting to his father, the Admiral. The boy left just as abruptly as he had come, after he had collected a few dollars. Two men smiled at the Admiral and the third one spoke, A hne thing, a son of the Admiral in the Army. The others smiled, but a grave look came over the Admiral's face, It wasn't my wish, I assure you. I have hoped ever since he was born that he would join the Navy, but it seems that some girl thinks different. Four men looked down in their glasses, each remembering the one who had influenced him. The editor was the first to speak, I guess somewhere in every man's life there is some woman who influences him, whether it be his mother, his sister, or some girl, and here a smile lit his tired face. There was in mine. The three men looked up with questioning eyes and then, little by little, they told their individual stories. The editor began. Well, it isn't a very long story and the person was a young girl, sort of a crazy kid, whom I met in New York during the last world war. She wasn't very bright, but she could make you laugh and she could dance like a fairy all night and never tire. I wrote her when I went to France and she said sheloved my letters and conf tinually she wrote me and encouraged me to continue writing, for she said I could color lifeless things with words and paint a picture clearly in a few short sentences.