Connecticut College - Koine Yearbook (New London, CT)

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OFFICERS 1918-1919 President, Agnes Leahy Vice-President, Elizabeth Eddy Secretary, Dorothy Wulf Treasurer, Marion Lyon Historian, Helen Rich Cheer LLeader, Marion Keene CLASS HISTORY 1918-1919 the thin edge of nowhere. You aren't new, and you aren't old. To others you have neither the charm of novelty nor the beauty of old and loved associations. Many noble classes have succumbed under the ignominy of it, but not so '21. For Sophomore year was for us a banner yvear. We are particularly lucky in that we were quarantined two days after our arrival in September, with the result that all four classes were so firmly united in the bonds of suffering and seclusion that class distine- SOPHOMORE year in college is traditionally supposed to be tions were forgotten. Misery loves company, and we were all soul-mates. We worshipped Nature and pursued the academic and would have sold our souls to see even a Mary Pickford movie. But with Agnes Leahy as president, it was impossible to sup- port a decent grouch, and we finally divorced it. Agnes' famous laughter had done the trick, and with all the pep of sunshine after a storm we decided to give the Freshmen a party. The dear chil- dren ate lolly-pops, and shouted with glee at our minstrel show. which made the cakewalk famous. Yariety was added to campus life by the gift of palms and the ll:npror-nptu dormitory in the gym. The palms died of shame at being mistaken for clothes-trees, and we nearly died of laughter. We distinguished ourselves in athletics that fall, particularly In soccer, and we were the Proud originators of that delicate cus- tom of devouring hot-dogs at games. Altogether, with the aid gf telephone calls and heavy burdens on the U Q' we managed to enjoy our nunnery, Day time that we saw the bright li celebrated wildly and hilario mail service, Armistice Day was the first ghts of the metropolis. Some of us : usly, others in a more subdued fash 1on i i : bu:.l it was a never-to-be-forgotten day. After strenuous drill ng under Sergeant Selden of the Home G

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Everyone was on hand for chapel in front of New London Hall to see the planting of the Freshman tree. Fervent were the hopes that the tree would grow sturdy and straight, but perhaps a bit shaky was the faith in botany books which declared a silver maple to have purplish yellow blossoms. No day in June could have been more perfect than that beau- tiful May day. In the afternoon the gymnasium was attractive in the Freshmen colors and the guests enjoyed the cabaret. The different acts were clever, irresistibly funny, or genuinely lovely. A strong affection binding all classes was very evident that after- noon and although commencement time approached, everyone was glad that separation was to be, this year, only for the summer. At midnight the Freshmen sought their sister class and two by two in the mystical, black, soundless night, side by side, 1919 and 1921 clambered down the rocks, across the field, under barbed wire and over the railroad tracks by the uncertain light of two lanterns. There on the beach in the fire-light, the Junior president was given a convoy for the 1919 Submarine. To anni- hilate hot-dogs, tc cheer, and to sing were the only means of ex- pressing surplus enthusiasm, until Dean Nye spoke a few words showing such understanding that, as the procession wound up the hill in the light of the rising moon, each girl seemed to find a greater satisfaction in exclaiming again and again the enthusiastic words, 'just the dearest sport. The end of the year approached. On Memorial Day was a celebration with field sports for sub-Freshmen. The never-to-be- forgotten crew race, picnics, summer plans of farm work or other service helped to hasten the days. Freshmen had their share of banners and pennants, and numerals and letters at the athletic banquet, and proud indeed was '21 of the champions. As they looked back through the college year, the girls of '21 were amazed at what wealth of friendship had been found, what fullness of joy, and of love for the college on the hill by the sea; what depth of experience, and dared they breathe it what a sum of knowledge, had come to them with the swiftly passing days of the freshmen year of 1921. ESTHER ALLEN, Historian. 25

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the Peace Day parade, headed by a Kazoo band: and that night we consigned William Hohenzollern to the fiery flames. Quarantine was lifted until Thanksgiving, but after vacation the flu germs took a new lease on life, and we were interred again. In fact, the germs were so rampageous that we were sent home early for Christmas vacation, returning to spend New Year's Eve in poring over the revels of old Pompeii, and New Year's Day in going to classes. The eleventh of January made our reputations, for that was the memorable date of our vaudeville show. The good old farmerette chorus, the knitting-bag chorusenlivened by the element of uncertainty in paper costumes, Pat and Batch in the famous bird stuntwe thrill at the mention of these, our triumphs. But we regretted them sometimes. The knitting-bag chorus was given in at least twelve entertainments for the boys, and trips to the Naval Hospital were more common than trips to New London Hall. Elsie Janis and Her Gang were idlers in com- parison with the '21 Troupe. We pass over mid-years with a mere word. What are these in the review of a college year? Far more important was the fact that, besides being well represented on varsity team, we won the basketball championship. About this time we plunged into a wild orgy among the pop- pies. No, gentle reader, we did not take to opium. We were merely making decorations for the first Sophomore Hop that CEE: ever witnessed. On the afternoon of the hop the gym was transformed, the orchestra about to arrive, many men from Chi- cago, New York, and even New Haven embarking at the station, when information was coldly passed around that the Hop was postponed and the college quarantined for diphtheriall We draw a veil over our unmaidenly rage. Quarantine was no longer to be taken philosophically, we argued. The joke was being carried too far. Hysterics were permitted, the telephone wires hummed, and we worked out our wrath by pulling down the decorations in the gym. On April 4th we enjoyed the Hop just twice as much because of its double expectation, and the next night we repeated our vaudeville show to a packed house. The hit of the evening was made by Dorothy Gregson, the wicked villain in the movie, for she was thrown over the deck-rail to land, not on the salty waves, but upon the nautical cap of the dashing Lieutenant Parker, who 27 e il