Columbus School for Girls - Topknot Yearbook (Columbus, OH)

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TOP-KNOT, 1928 LIFE'S LITTLE PLEASANTRIES HE Firelands Historical Society was about to present its annual pageant and I was to be the Spirit of the United States. It was small wonder that I, a gawky nine-year old, should realize the great responsibility thrust upon me and should be somewhat over-awed by my newly acquired prestige. I found myself glorying in the tedious rehearsals, thrilling at the very sound of my own voice as I repeated the words, Rise, Connecticut, rise! and placed a benevolent hand upon the uplifted brow of the kneeling Connecticut. I thought it best to ignore the fact that mother insisted I was too tall to wear the flowing, multi-colored, cheesecloth robe which Miss Jenkins had made for me. I heard Miss Jenkins apologizing to a critical visitor for my stumbling over a loose board. She's just at the awkward age, you know, but she'll outgrow it. I endured even this slighting remark in noble silence and felt quite flattered when I hear-d her comment on my voice as slightly nasal, though it carries very well. I did not know at the time what nasal meant, but I was confident that my voice was receiving a compliment. I was happy that my voice carried, that, too, was desirable. At last the eventful night arrived, and the glamor of rehearsals was far overshadowed by the joy of reality. While Miss Jenkins was sketching interesting looking circles under my eyes, I repeated my lines industriously to myself. As she finished me with a last flourish of the blue pencil, she mumbled something about hoping I wouldn't be nervous when my time came. Then, patting me on the shoulder in a most reassuring manner, she moved lightly over to finish Uncle Sam, who waited disconsolately by the door. I shall never forget the feeling that swept over me as the curtain rose. I was in a different world, separated from the mass- of people by a row of shining footlights. I raised my hand in a gentle flourish as Miss Jenkins had taught me. I must do my best and give the public what it wanted. Ah, mine was a great responsibility! Carefully I vibrated my s's and d's as I had done so often before. But, oh, how different! This was the beginning of something novel. My life was taking on a new aspect. I was through with playing marbles in front of the Methodist church. Never again would I spend a perfectly good Saturday morning fighting with the dirty little Italians that lived down across the tracks. 19

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COLUMBUS SCHOOL FOR GIRLS to have some of the honor. I was deathly afraid to gog yet I dared not stay away though I died a thousand deaths in going. Fear, self-consciousness, and hysteria, three great terrors of youth! Each man has his portion of them but some overcome these curses more easily than others. Will they ever cease to menace the general happiness of the young world? MARGARET KINDER, '28 THE TRYSTING PLACE When the world was in the morning And the dew was on the grass, I was lying in the meadows Waiting, there, for you to pass. And you knew that I'd be waiting, And you promised you'd be there In the blue and silver morning When the mist was everywhere. And I waited in the morning In the blue and silver misty I was growing cold and lonely, Only dew my temples kissed. Softly as the breath of morning, Warm and fluttering, you came, Turning silver mist to fire And the cold dew into flame. DOROTHY BANCROFT, '29 18

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COLUMBUS SCHOOL FOR GIRLS . Such amusements were for children, not for me, who was beginning at last to live, to appreciate the serious, uplifting meaning of art. I felt that it was only a matter of time before I should be doing Juliet to Rollo Peters' delicate Romeo. Already I saw myself carried along in a golden coach, drawn by the proverbial milk-white steeds, between hordes of admiring people. Now and then I would smile, a cool, detached smile, and toss a dainty rosebud into the midst of the crowd. In spite of my kindness, I would always remain a little aloof. Never would I mingle 'with the mass. To be great was to be remote. Exalted, eager, I went home that night, exalted because of the new- born illusion in my heart, and eager for the day when that dream would be realized. at Ill Ill It Sk 'K Ill IF Il' The day of realization has never come. Day dreams are rarely ful- filled. They are little pleasantries which life offers to cheer us on our way. Often, indeed, they lead us to bitter disillusionment. It is, how- ever, much better to have had the illusions and to have lost them than never to have had them at all. How dull and prosaic this world would be without them! PATRICIA STEWART, '28 WHEN FRIENDSHIPS DIE A few gray ashes, and the gaunt, grim ghosts of shadows, That is all- All that is left to play with after friendships die, Like two bright stars, alone in the vast heaven, Alone, and yet So far apart a thousand worlds between them lie. VIRGINIA STONE, '28 20