DYouville College - DYouvillian Yearbook (Buffalo, NY)

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, Q - s. -fn f 1 ' - , ..'... . - J , X r ,Q 5 09549 , . , 7 .....,.ss52 6 ,Q Jas ,gg gf mlfso fa I M 0 af r of Easter comes with its manifold delights-the selection of coats, frocks, hats, which selection be' comes more difficult each year, as it is necessary that they harmonize with our growing dignity. June-more exams-but the torture of the June ordeal is always somewhat mitigated by the def lightful prospect of the ensuing vacation. Thus, basically, the history of our class has differed little from that of our predecessors. But only basically! In other respects the history of '30 is unique, it is a glorious narrative of student life, that is, of the lives of exceptional students than whom, we are told, are none more interesting as objects of study- except it be a lover. We have staunchly supported our theories and believed in our maxims. By no means do we lightly regard that revered and bewhiskered adage concerning a sound mind in a sound body. Thus, out of the depths of our profound wisdom, we, Minerva's devotees, have always looked approvingly upon the material coefhcients which abetted us in our search for truth, greater wisdom and beauty. To wit, may our successors profit by our experience and realize the benefit of frequent spreads. And we regret that on such occasions they must be denied the services of Gertrude Campbell and Marie Frank who always and most kindly supervised the preparation of salads, pastries and, chief of all, that which constitutes 'fthe great American breakfast -fragrant coffee. Without these carefully chosen and most necessary stimulants, we fear that our devotion to the greyfeyed goddess might have waned. A record is scarcely needed, for no one will forget our spreads, but for form's sake we include them in this chronicle. Neither will we forget Rose Hylant's delightful songs, nor the actors. Well might we have played Thisbe and Pyramus on Theseus' wedding night! Yes, all the world's a stage, and for four years we have played our parts. Much of our program has been dull and commonplace. We have known hours of calm and contentment, of frenzy and un' certainty. The anxious seat is not wholly unknown to many of us. Through it all, though, we have always had time to stand and stare. We have learned the art whereby the mind . . lets go a thousand things, Like dates of wars and deaths of kings, And yet recalls that very hour- 'Twas noon by yonder village tower, And on the last blue noon in May- The wind came briskly up this way, Crisping the brook beside the road, Then, pausing here, set down its load Of pinefscents, and shook listlessly Two petals from that wildfrose tree. . We have been very happy during the past four years. Some of our number took precautions lest the rest of us should think it uwisdom to be only wise, and actuated by these scruples have beguiled for us many an hour. Even inveterate bridgefplayers have been known to lose interest in their kings and knaves to give attention to some merry yarn. Although histrionically unimportant, Wellsville, Salamanca, Tonawanda-no, North Tonawanda-have provided more than sufficient material for One Hundred Twenty

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ZW-Jim. s o lens NSW . f'Qj-, .- A it a . E A . . , if f X .....ss?e ,. a Jas mlgao F xy x ' i r X - A. -g Memoirs of the Class of logo FOREWORD : The fog comes on little catffeetg It sits looking over harbor and city on silent haunches and then moves on. . . . and its visions are but memories. And ere long the visions, or the history, of that distinguished and very notable Class of '30 will be a subject for retrospect. But what pleasant memories! Charles the Twelfth, of Sweden, crossed Europe on horseback in nine days. Apropos of what? Well, this fact does not make Sweden's history, and yet the author remembers very little else about that country. Tout le monde knows that history repeats itself g and likewise nearly everyone knows that there is nothing quite so boring as repetition. And so we are thoughtfully agreed to spare the reader many irksome details. ak ak lk It is quite the custom to begin school in September, leave it in june, and return the following September. CBeing Nonfconformists-tho' not men-we shall not return this fall.j Nor does the ritual vary exceedingly from year to year, from midyears to midyears, from Prom to Prom. An abundance of zeal characterizes all of us in those early months of the school yearg we have not yet lost sight of that last and gayest of all vacations, and consequently it has happened that in the contemplaf tion of that happy time we have momentarily forgotton that a class in Ethics or Religion must needs be grave. In the middle of a really edifying discourse on entitative and existential being we have some' times slipped serenely away into a sphere of fantastical being and dreams. In our next conscious moment we have been recalled to earth by a powerful voice. We are questionedg our answers are not particularly intelligent or intelligibleg we sit down disgracedg our habitual composure a bit ruffled. We console ourselves that all really great people have dreamed more or less, and we are confident, too, in the thought Qwith apologies to H. BQ that although 'hour sins are scarlet, our books will be read. Then when vacation memories begin to grow dim, we find a new diversion in the Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays. We have planned to burn the midnight oil, making up the hours we lost in seeing shows, playing bridge and gossiping. And indeed we waste not a minute during those provif dential two weeksg we burn the midnight oil and make every minute count-seeing more movies, playing more bridge and, in short, proving from the practical side at least, that man is by nature social. Exams follow hard upon the heels of Christmas. Midyears! But another victory for us! They have been only our opportunity to prove that extrafcurricular activities never had a detrimental effect upon our scholarship-opinions to the contrary notwithstanding. Om: Hundred Nineteen

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----as-age s 0746 JDE! W- ' ' 1,504 e. ,R ey , many an animated conversation. All of which provided excellent training for our Junior debate. Our wits were quickened in refuting the claims of suburbanitesg our tongues were sharpened-we knew how to take a victory, and who will say that this was of no avail. We feel that we owe much of our success and happiness to our victory over the gentleman- comely, tall, and black as jet. Each year we were privileged to make a special attack upon his wiles, and were rewarded each time with a fuller realization that Out of the scabbard of the night By God's hand drawn, Flashes His shining sword of light, And lo-the dawn. Like other classes, we have enjoyed our retreats, our schf' rship, our proms, but to us there has been something always to differentiate them from those of the others'. Ours truly have been the ne plus ultra. With what delight will we in the future return to those happy hours! We will laugh again at Mary Lawler's illustrated edition of Othello, and once again we will be amused and intensely interested by Kay Mundie's psychic moments. Pleasant memories will be ours in abundance. Thus ends our narrative. We may not be children of fame, but that is an idle thought, for Fame is a food that dead men eat, I have no stomach for such meat. In little light and narrow room, ' They eat it in the silent tomb, With no kind voice of comrade near To bid the feaster be of cheer. But we have known Friendship, . . . a nobler thing. 'Of Friendship it is good to sing. For truly when a man shall end, He lives in memory of his friend, Who doth his better part recall And of his fault make funeral. And so, if our history, of supreme importance to us, be but slightly known to the world at large, it is because, like Isaac Walton, we possess the wise man's contempt for publicity. -ALMA HICKEY One Hmidred 'Twentyfone