Eastern Nazarene College - Nautilus Yearbook (Quincy, MA)

Page 30 text:

l937 .FQ NALITILLIS SENIORS ARVIN A. SCHARER Cleveland, Ohio English When did morning ever break And find such beaming eyes awake! Since Arv has taken unto himself a news aper the above quotation hardly fits, fiat ofttimes morning finds him very much awake-he not yet having gone to bed. Arv certainly deserves an orchid for editing such a splendid paper, which has necessitated numberless hours of work and devotion in the Campy: Camera room. So interested has he become in the various phases of college activities that he doesn't contemplate longer than ten minutes as to which suit he'll wear of a morning, and I haven't seen him twiddle his ears in months. A toy soldier come to lifeda spice geranium-candle flame-Beau Brummel. FLORENCE L. Ssiirn Flushing, New York English An inviting eye, and yet methinks quite modest. Well, well, well, Florence, here we meet again!and this time I shall do the talking. Do you recall Thomas Bailey Aldrich's poem Memory, wherein he for- gets great things like wars and kings, and remembers two petals falling from a wild rose tree? That's what I shall do with your write-up. I shall not mention the many ways in which you've shown your practical ef- ficiency, your spirituality, and your other outstanding qualities. Long after l've for- gotten those great things l'll remember a little hand-made card you sent me when I was sickea card about The Road Bqyoml Tomorroug do you recall it? Truly I am rich in friendships I've made here at E. N. C.

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NALJTILLJS I937 stuloias RAY I-I. QUIGGIN Cleveland, Ohio Psychology Those eyes affectionate and glad, which seemed to love whate'er they looked upon. Ray has the faculty of making you think you are the most important person in the world at the time he is talking to you. Very likely, however, he is practicing business psychology and is mentally cal- culating the number of wimpys he can sell you at the Dugout. Modern advertising schemes are Ray's hobby. For example, he told me of a scheme whereby a restaurateur could make a fortune by blowing the tantalizing aroma of steak and onions over hungry street throngs while a torch-singer moaned, You're the Cream in My Coffee through a megaphone. Clever, eh what? Ray's personality and ready smile will take him far. MARY L, ROUNSEVELL Brooktondale, New York Psychology Two starry eyes hung in the gloom of thought. Crocus blossoms-Mother Goose writ- ing philosophy-beach plum preserves- starched pinafores. When Mary looks up at you demurely you probably think of Little Women, or of the jingle telling that little girls are made of sugar and spice and everything nice. Be not deceived. Of course far be it from me to deny that Mary is anything other than sugar and spice-but methinks the spice has a bit of a tang. Her drolleries, her good-natured mimicries, her wit-be it ever so ladylike -all have a subtle flavor which takes them from the realm of the usual. In other words, she is the caviar canape rather than the baked rice pudding.

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NALJTILLJS l937 stmloras ESTHER M. THoMAs Thornton, Rhode Island Science Her large eyes look at you with a royal indifference. Esther might look at me with royal in- difference most of the time, but in Spanish class-ah, that was different. There we had a common bond, so to speak. Esther's look of calm indifference gave way to one of hopeless resignation, which lightened by degrees as the hour passed, and with the ringing of the bell we both banged the covers on Don Quixote and the beau- tiful Dulcinea and grinned at each other with sympathetic comradeship. Ofttimes I've wondered if Esther was not sitting back contemplating, Buddha- like, upon the world and figuring out if possible why we behave like human beings. MARION E. GALLUP Danielson, Connecticut Theology Graduating in January, 1938 In her eyes a thought. Marion is not spectacular. Gently quiet and quietly gentle she goes her way, always gracious, always friendly, with just a hint of wistfulness and sadness. Marion has known sorrow and this knowledge has left its imprint upon her- an imprint vaguely undefinable, but none the less real. A trace of mellow woman- liness? Of sympathetic understanding? Both, I think, are found in her. Marion reminds me of delicate porce- lain, a cup of Chinese rice-ware, say. Nothing flamboyant, nothing spectacular, but charming in its translucent delicacy- a delicacy that denotes true fineness.