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

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i n k Thirfy-six the land of nod The dozing warder by The half-shuT gaTe ResTs his dull head and dreams of dinner-Time: All round ThaT porTal, where muTe phanToms waiT, Bloom The ay Tlowers oT OrienTal climeg And from Tgar-off There comes The sleepy chime OT silver bells Trom a blue mounTain heighT: The only sound besides, The measured rhyme OT a near TounTain dripping drops ol: lighf- PleasanT dream region oT The SybariTe. And oTTen in The sleepy aTTernoon Rolls down halT-lazily among The Tlowers The velveT peach, King Summer's princely boon. Ripen'd by yesTerday's lasT sunny showers. IT shakes The bee Trom The hollyhock Towers: BuT soon, like babe ThaT TreTs iTselT To resT, Sleep doTh revisiT iT in iTs sweeT bowers, Rock'd inTo sleep on iTs moTher's breasT, UnTil The sun Turns crimson in The wesT. An endless June glows in The cloudless blue- Cloudless excepT one loiTering snowy hill Of driTTing vapour, cruising eTher Through And promising a sunseT ThaT is s+iII So slow To come, Though yeT we know iT will: In Dreamland all The clouds do as They please: SOTT whisp'ring secreTs, murm'ring rill meeTs rill, Red poppy leaves blow by on every breeze, And low dream voices sTir among The Trees. And all around This quieT peaceTul place, Where never TrumpeT blew nor shone a sword, Lie miles of unmown meadows, o'er which race, Glancing o'er cowslip cups and emerald sward. Lighf sunbeams Trorn rich Summer's olden hoard: Through waves of TluTTering flowers grey careless While soTT againsT The Tace of Dreamland's lord DriTTs The gray down oT ThisTles casT away, l-larvesT oT The daydreamers as some say. Beyond These pasTures Tar To easT and wesT. STreTch greaT green ToresTs never Traversed: And There no sound disTurb The wild deer's resT BuT The slipp'd acorn paTTering on his bed, Or The crisp beechnuT crackling aT his Tread. No hunTer's horn scares This bird's paradise. Nor beaT oT echoing hooT: no shaTT is sped By sTaring woodmang nor in any guise Do Towlers hide here wiTh Their lures and lies. play

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ink pot an open letter to the facult To Whom If May Concern: Being amidsf and among, nof fo say one of a group of girls in fhe passionafe sfafe of puppy love, l feel qualified fo answer fhe quesfion mosf asked by you faculfy nfembers. Wha+ are you fhinlcing abouf now? Where does your mind wander during c ass. I am surprised fhaf 'rhe feachers do nof use more facf in referring fo a sfudenf's sfafe of sweef reminiscence. Affer all, There was a 'rime when fhe fhoughf of your Beau Brummel fhrew you info a complefe chaos. Yef, day in and day ouf, we are mis- undersfood, even admonished because we dream of fhe way Harvey danced. and fhe fender liffle nofhings he whispered. I admif fhe mafh class isn'+ fhe proper place for memories of an amorous nafure, yef one has no confrol over fhe fhoughfs which enfer and leave fhe mind. ln one momenr of rare ecsfasy we find fhem fhereg in fhe nexf of sfarlc realify fhe are gone. We are none fhe worse for our experience excepf fhaf Miss So-and-So dial, embarrass us before fhe enfire class. We plead guilfy fo occasional day-dreaming, buf we do hope. fhe cause now being known, our crime will be adjudged wifh more iusfice and sympafhy. . . . Love will always find a way. CAROL KADEN, '38. pour plaire l-Grand'mere, enfre nous, savez-vous 3-Si pour le charmer, il suffif, Que l'on songe 5 mon mariage? Car cl'avoir bienfof un epoux, ll paraff que ie suis en age. On doif me presenfer, dif-on On en parle avec grand mysfere. Un ieune homme, du meilleur fon, Mais . . . si i'allais ne pas lui plairel 2-Si ie n'e'rais pas de son gofif, Ce doufe horrible me fracasse. C5rand'mere, vous qui savez fouf Tirez-moi d'embarras, de grace. On di+ qu'il esf 'rouf a faif bien Du rnoins, a ce qu'en dif mon pere. Donc, enseignez-moi quels moyens Je dois employer pour lui plaire. D'avoir l'oeil vif, les levres roses. La main blanche ef le pied pefif, Je possede, ie crois. ces choses. E+ vous meme, l'au+re mafin Vous m'avez assure grand'mere Que i'efais genfille foul' plein Esf-ce un bon moyen pour lui plaire? 4-Dois-ie pour capfiver ses yeux Soigner plus encore ma foileffe. Aioufer aux rubans des noeuds E+ devenir fres, 'rres coqueffe? Si c'es+ oui, ie crois reussir, Car prefend ma coufuriere Je suis fouiours mise a ravir- Esf-ce ainsi que ie pourrai plaire? 5-C'esf ainsi que Marie en fremblanf, Sa voix caline ef supplianfe lnferrogea sa mere-grand, La bonne vieille sourianfe En Vembrassanf, fouf bas, lui dif: Voici Ia clef du grand mysfere, La chose esf bien simple-il suffif D'efre bonne, efd'aimer pour plaire. RHODA MINTZ, '3 7. fhirfy-five U

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ink pot In This sfrange land found only in one's dreams, Led by a clue ThaT never yeT beTray'd, l soughT Through woodland bowers and dells and sTreams For The greaT monarch of each hill and glade: And afTer leagues of chequer'd lighT and shade l found in dim alcove b man unTrod: A GianT Thronecl: face hidden, head down-weigh'd, Wrapp'd in sTar-spangled robes: Behold The god, The sleepy ruler of dream-world, King Nod. SIMONETTE LANS, '39. cosmetics through the ages DO you noT remember The firsT Time you sfood in fronT of your bureau and gazed info The mirror, dreamily Thinking how lovely you would look wiTh iusf a biT of powder? Mofher had gone shopping: Dad was in The office: and, wiTh no one aT home, you decided To Take advanfage of The siTuaTion. Dipping moTher's special puff info her powder iar, you Then generously smeared your enfire face. Whaf a Thrill! The firsf Tasfe of make-up! Now you are ThirTeen. Powder is no longer a forbidden fruiT. The nexT desire is To use lipsfick. You save a dime, venTure inTo The five-and-Ten-cenT sTore and, wiTh Thaf liTTIe Thrill of mischief, selecT a kiss-proof model. Again you are aT The mirror. arTisTi- cally coloring The face. WhaT fun! How grand and grown-up! The nexT sTep is To beg moTher's permission To use iT-even if iT is only on Sundays. Mofher says Yes : The boys in The class seem To approve: and you are Truly grown-up. Four years have passed and cheek-pinching has given way To rouge. How shocked mother was, buT afTer This vicTory, mascara and eyebrow pencils are a cinch. AT lasT, aT TwenTy-one, how silly iT now seems, ThaT TirsT powder-smearing parTy. Years pass. Life begins aT forTy is The popular Theme, and The Toll of make-up is sounded. To look Truly charming. -mascara and eyebrow pencils are ouT of The quesTion. Mrs. Simpson does noT use rouge. so ThaT is ouT, Too. STill you cling To The lipsTick, buf, according To The popular adverTisemenTs, Lips naTural are lovelier. ThaT means go easier on lipsfick. So The powder Triumphs afTer all! MINNETTE GALPEER, '39. death as a guest W HO is The ineviTable guest? Comes he now or, perhaps. in laTer years. His hosT is waifing. The guesT is arriving laTe. He is in anguish, his body now rigid wiTh pain, now convulsed wiTh chills. Has The guesl' forgoTTen This appoinTmenT? Or is he merely making anoTher call? One musT noT forgef ThaT he is a much sought afTer person. Suddenly The bell rings. A horrible piercing scream, changing To a wavering urgle, breaks The maddening quiet. Then a deeper, more lasfing silence prevails. From Tar off The muffled sound of sobbing is heard, breaking The awesome sfillness. He is here. The long-awaifed guesT has arrived. He does noT sTay. He has no Time To gloaT over his handiwork. Da and nighT, his endless presence is felT. He makes no disTincTions: rich, poor, young andlold, all feel his dreaded sting. Those who escape his visiTs need noT rejoice: he will be back again, This Time inexorable. CHARLOTTE DAVIS, '38. Thin-Ty-seven