Cumnock School - Chronicle Yearbook (Los Angeles, CA)

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L I T E R A T U R E feeling around, before the rest of her follows after it. All of her clothes are hanging on her. She looks kinda like she'd just jumped in a parachute, and was wearing the parachute around to advertise the fact! She's coming up right now, and . . . and they are moving her trunk into Sixteen. With an air of There l told you so, Nancy waited for the girls' reac- tions. She didn't have long to wait, for in a chorus they sang out, A new girl. Head spokesman, jessica, remarked: Let's have a look, for after all she must pass our approval as well as Miss Bates '. ' This brought a laugh from the girls, and rising from their chairs they followed jessica through the sitting room door down the hall towards Six- teen. Stopping and raising her hand in a silencing gesture, jessica whispered: Girls, this is not the best way to do this. You all go back into the sit- ting room. Co in but leave the door open, and l'll think of some way to get her past the door. Whispering excitedly among themselves, the girls turned around and walked back to the sitting room where they waited to view the strange new spectacle. Whether fate wished to step in and save this poor creature, about to be the victim of a lot of thoughtless girls, till a further time, it is impossible to know, but just as jessica rounded the corner to pounce upon her unsus- pecting victim, the door of number Sixteen opened and Miss Bates emerged. Clinging to her arm, holding it desperately as though it were life itself, a drab little bit of humanity moved along by her side. Feeling jessicia draw back and seeing the rather amazed look on her face, Miss Bates announced: Oh, jessica dear, I was just taking the new girl through the school. l thought it would be nice to acquaint her with her new home. Without replying, jessica stood amazed at what apparently was the new girl. jessica, this is Sophie. I am sure you two will see a lot of each other, as your rooms are so near. Sophie stood clinging to Miss Bates, her limp brown hair, not wishing to attract any unnecessary attention to itself, slipped lifelessly down from the straight white line which divided her small head. This drab brown covering over her head came down and partly covered her narrow forehead. Two frightened grey eyes, encircled by large blue shadows, blinked out from be- neath too heavy eyebrows. These eyes blinked, and darted from place to W as

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I' L I T E R A T U R E Very well, Lydia, Herbert groaned pitifully. The light of triumph in her face faded, when, for reasons that she could never know, Lionel and Herbert walked together out of the room. THE DOOR OPENS . By VERNA HERBST Seated in a circle at her feet, their eyes on jessica's gentle face, the girls listened eagerly. jessica in a perky voice rambled on in a thrilling meter . . , The way Aunt Grace fusses up the country place at Christmas time! But it is nice to dash in after a sleigh ride and see all that holly and to sit down on the hearth. She always has a big fire in the grate. Inspecting again the letter that had been lying in her lap, jessica, fired by her own enthusiasm, let her eyes dash through a few more lines, then without raising her eyes she sputtered breathlessly: That darling Horton boy is coming! Oh, Auntie is so sweet! She knew he would add just the right touch to my new blue dress. She is so thought- ful. She knows just the type of boy that becomes me the most. The girls of Fair View School would almost rather hear about jessica's Christmas plans than make their own. While she painted the picture of her large country home, the girls didn't move--they scarcely breathed. But it was always like that. jessica Hamilton was the most popular girl in school, she was the best conversationalist, she was the on-ly girl in school who had her own car, she could have anything in the world she wanted, and now she wanted the entire room to hear about her Christmas. There were no objec- tions, for on this Monday afternoon as on all Mondays the girls had assem- bled in the cozy little sitting room for no other purpose than to listen to her. It was of no little annoyance to her when the door flung open, pulling after it Nancy Roberts. Worried by jessica's look of disapproval yet feeling the importance and excitement of what she had to say, Nancy tried to disregard that look-a very brave thing for her to do, she felt. Not many girls went around disregarding jessica's disapproving looks. A little frightened, yet de- termined that they should hear her, Nancy squealed out between healthy young giggles: The most funniest girl, I . . . I mean the funniest looking girl I have ever seenl Her head sorta leads her body around after it. Looks like it's 82

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L I T E R A T U R E place, uncertain where to rest their frightened gaze. Sophie's shaky little frame was badly in need of a covering of warm padding, for blade-like bones jutted out between her narrow shoulders and her emaciated neck. From her pale brown leather shoes to her pathetic head Sophie measured five feet three. Muttering some words of recognition to their introduction, and trying to control her mirth, jessica turned quickly and walked rapidly to the sitting room. Once inside, with the door closed, she gave way to a gushing well of laughter. The girls, seeing her laughter-stricken face and her shaking sides, leaped from their chairs anxious to learn the cause of her hilarity. Between great spurts of laughter jessica managed to give the girls enough account of Sophie's appearance to send them into gales of laughter, equalling those of her own. As Sophie entered the dining room that night for dinner, she felt the prickle of the many eyes turned towards her, staring, looking straight through her unprotected being. There welled up within her an almost over-powering desire to cry aloud. She felt like a frightened bird just about to be swallowed up by a greedy cat. lf only she could turn and run from that brightly lighted room, with dancing eyes peering forth at herl But no. She could do noth- ing, for there was Miss Bates' kindly hand motioning her into a chair next to her own. Scarcely able to move, Sophie dazedly made her way to the table and sank miserably into the chair. All of her stepmother's final words of warning rang harshly in her ears, Don't sit and miope. Talk, talkl Say something. People will think you nothing but a dunce. You make people uncomfortable in your sticky presence. They feel a desire to shake you off. Your silence presses around them, driving them away. As far back as Sophie's miserable memory could recall, phrases such as these had been hurled at her. Across from her a mouth was wagging. What was it saying? Did she think she would enjoy school? Sophie knew the wagging mouth would expect some reply. Forcing herself to speak, she told the mouth she believed she would like school-there, she had been able to say something! She told herself that maybe her stepmother had been wrong. Maybe people did want to hear what she thought and felt. Oh, yes, she guessed she would have a piece of bread. The next voice addressing her came from her right side. This voice rolled smoothly, vibrated slightly, looking in the direction of the voice, Sophie faced a very lovely girl. It was that nice 84