Calhoun School - Ink Pot Yearbook (New York, NY)

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Q 1936 INK POT + DiII6Vldf1.011 On Bed! I-IE first of my beds I remember was my crib. I used it until I was about three. It was very large with white bars and sides that came up and closed. All I remember of it are two experiences, both unpleasant. Someone had told me a terrible story of a bogey man who came in the dark and stole away little girls like me. Whoever it was must have told me that he creeps up from behind and grabs his victim, because I remember trying very hard to stuff the pillow behind my head so that I couldn't be seen from the back. I don't suppose my nursery was an unusually large room, but no room before or since has ever seemed as big as that room seemed that night. It was very dark, but that didn't really matter, as I didn't dare look behind to see if he was there. It was so quiet-I remember vividly the sound of my frightened breathing, and the pregnant quiet of my room as if all things were waiting for the bogey man to say, Boo! I must have been a very brave child, because I am sure that now I wouldnlt try to fool a bogey man. I'd just jump up and run. The other occasion was really an event in my life. It was the only time I ever had a nightmare. I don't remember what started it-possibly a second helping ot chocolate layer cake. CI was very fond of chocolate layer cake in my youth.D Anyway, I remember walking around the circus, and finding to my horror that all the animals were loose! I think the first thing that tried to swallow me was a hippopotamus. It opened yawning jaws to get me, and just when I was on its tongue I woke up. The room was hot and stuffy and very still, but strangely enough, it wasmy room. It looked just the same as if I had not almost been eaten. I was really a little surprised. I had always liked my room, and I thought my room ought to like me enough to look just a little sorry for me, but it didn't. It stood there with its white dresser and chairs and all my dolls, and looked just as impassive as ever. In fact it reassured me a little, so I fell asleep again. That was very foolish of meg I should have known better, but I guess I was too young. After all, three isn't very experienced, especially since it was my first nightmare. This time it was a lion that took a fancy to me. It was really a very handsome liong the handsomest lion I had ever seen, sleeping or otherwise. But at the moment, the thing that struck me most in the lion was his size. Now as any three-year-old knows without being told a lion is about as big as a dog, just up to your waist. But this lion! It was as big as I. Oh, decidedly! In fact, if you considered it length- wise as well, it was even bigger. This lion apparently liked little girls as much as I liked chocolate layer cake, because he emitted an enormous roar and opened his mouth very wide to swallow me. The surprising thing was that his mouth seemed to grow, so that by the time it was wide open, I could have ridden right in on my kiddie-car. I think I meant to go in, even without the kiddie-car, it was really such a beautiful mouth. It had two rows of shiny white teeth in all shapes, and the nicest passage with two very red tonsils for an entrance. The tongue lay Hat and served as a carpet. I was just going to go in, when the lion fin excitement, I supposej roared a most terrific roar. His tonsils swayed wildly: his tongue undulated madly for a moment, and even his teeth seemed to shake. The whole world seemed to echo from a thousand places the thunder of his roar. I woke up in terror. My body was hot and trembly, and the sheets seemed damp and clinging. The room, surprisingly, was very still. The moon peeped in. and the soft night wind moved the white ruffled curtain. I grew calm again. After a while I graduated to a real grown-up's bed. VVhenever I think of this bed I feel imprisoned again and very helpless. Twenty-eight

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Q 1936 INK POT + Pufple Grapes THE music rose to a mighty crescendo, filling the small church with glorious sound. A feeling of security surged through Anthony's heart as he knelt there under the folds of Saint Lucia's robes. It seemed as if he were back in sunny Italy, plucking the luscious purple grapes. Ah, those purple grapes! VVhat ecstasy! If only he could crush their sweetness in his mouth once more. But no, here in America people thought only of money, and their sole ambition was to make money, for they knew nothing of spreading vines and fragrant grapes. Somehow here in church his despair had dropped from him, and the thought of having enough money for passage to Italy for his beloved Mario and himself did not seem so impossible any more. As he rounded a corner on his way home, he bumped into a rough looking man who, at first, cursed him, but, when he had looked at him closely, stopped abruptly and motioned to Anthony to follow him. Bewildered, he did so, and soon found himself in a dingy hallway, mounting a flight of rickety stairs. The man in his careless, rough manner said, Hey, buddy, wanna make some easy money ? This brief question seemed heaven-sent to Anthony and he nodded dumbly as in a daze, yet eagerly. His escort rapped three times at a nearby door which was opened by a large burly man. The two men conversed in a whisper for a few minutes and then the leader spoke to Anthony, Well, what about it ? Anthony, perplexed, replied that he did not understand and the leader impatiently explained. They were going to execute a well-planned robbery and needed a small, wiry man like him to climb through a window and open a door for them. For this he would get three hundred dollars, just enough money for passage to Italy, thought Anthony. After his bit he would be free to leave. Anthony's conscience fought a brave battle, but his heart conquered, and he reluctantly agreed. The next night he appeared at the appointed spot, still fearful as to the outcome of all this. All the members of the gang piled into a rattle-trap car, and after riding for some time, stopped in'front of a small store which bore a faded sign, Pietro Vembesco-Fresh Fruits. Getting out of the car, they crept cautiously up an adjacent alley, where Anthony was shoved up onto a window sill. Silently he slid through the open window. All was dim, he could discern nothingg but as he stepped toward the door, where the men were expectantly waiting, he saw barrels of fresh fruit tightly packed. Groping forward blindly, he stumbled over a basket, falling and spilling its contents. As he sat on the Hoor dazed, rubbing a skinned hand, a scent of familiar sweet- ness filled the shop. He sat up abruptly and saw scrambled, far and wide, purple grapes, luscious purple grapes, the earthy and heavenly smell of Italy still upon them. Through Anthony's brain ran one thought. He must escape without accomplish- ing this terrible deed, or, even if he did go back to Italy with this money, how could he truthfully live in peace with God and himself? He never fully remembered how he got out, but he found himself in the old church kneeling before Saint Lucia. And blessed be the good God for delivering me from the cruel and unfaithful, Anthony sobbed out as he kissed the good Saint's robes. LILLIAN FICHTENHOLTZ, '39, Twenty-seven

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+ 1936 INK POT Q I had been run over and broken my collar bone. For a long, long time I had to stay in bed. I remember one night. Everything was dark, I was alone, and even now across the years there comes to me that moment of intense pain. IVIy third bed opened a new period in my life. I shared a room with my little brother, Stanley. His bed was next to mine, and at night we used to talk before we fell asleep. We would bring bowls of fruit and boxes of candy into the room, and eat them while we read or talked. Once we were alone at home, and we both were in bed, reading. I was just at the point where the hero was escaping with the heroine through a graveyard, when a low, mournful, long drawn out VVhoooo sounded through the house. I looked up at Stanley with such a frightened face that he became just as scared as I was. I jumped out of bed, with Stanley following, and rushed to the maid's room. All her threats and pleadings were useless. We refused to leave until Mother and Dad came home, and stood with us until we fell asleep. Thorough investigation the next day traced the sound to a Ventilating pipe in the hall. I remember one bright morning waking to find myself completely dressed, even as to shoes. I had delayed undressing until I should feel less sleepy, and meanwhile crawled in between the covers for a brief snooze, and fallen sound asleep. Then of course there was my camp bed. This bed included lots of adventuresg it possessed all the charm of forbidden fruit. We weren't allowed to have lights on after taps, so I used to burrow down under the blankets with my Hashlight and read as long as the air held out. We weren't supposed to leave our beds after we were all set for the night, so as soon as our councillor left we would all scramble on to the corner bed and whisper until we saw her returning. I remember, one night, two from our bunk had gotten permission to go to a movie in town. Through some coincidence the rest of us had managed to smuggle some food into the bunk. We saw the two off, giving them lists of things to buy for us. After taps we put two beds next to each other, gathered our food together, and then the three of us piled in. We decided to stay awake until they got back, which would be about twelve. First of all we divided the food and put their share aside. Now the best way for a camper to keep awake is to be told to go to sleep, but our councillor had told us that we could wait up for the others as a small com- pensation for not going 5 thus we were robbed of the best method. The next best way is to eat. We ate until our supply ran out, and then we used the last resourse -we talked. We began on nothing and graduated to fairy tales, but finally we gave up. It was hours before twelve. Lee was three-quarters asleep when in desperation I suggested the remaining food. Lee sat up and even Didy was revived. But I was seized with remorseg this was rank disloyalty, etc., etc. VVe argued with ourselves for half an hour and then finished the food. Now there was absolutely nothing to do but fall asleep. Lee, the worst culprit, was sleeping like a baby, Didy was whistling rhythmically away fshe had sinusj, and I was shaking hands with the sandman when the sound of loud whispers brought us all awake again. They were back and brought us as a special treat chicken salad sandwiches with sliced pickle. We sat up in bed and ate like starved wolves. Then having nothing better to do we fell asleep. lVIy next bed was still another step forward. With it came my own room. high-school, and the most acute stages of growing up. This bed includes poison-ivy, a badly sprained ankle, and a true appreciation of a bed. For I have found that one of the greatest comforts of life is to crawl into bed, turn over, relax, and fall asleep. JUDITH SCHERER, '36. Twenty-nine