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Page 42 text:
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SENIOR PLAY-JUNE MAD
The play "June Mad" by Florence Ryerson and Colin Clements was presented on Friday, June 12, 1945. From
all reports this play went over "big" and was enjoyed by young and old. The young who saw themselves mirrored on
the stage and "the old who saw the problems that would confront them -when their own darling caught the June bug
and went f'June Mad."
Medal For Valor
fContinued from Page 291
Then they were there. AAs the
four-legged soldier dug his paws
deep into the sandy beach, he
seemed to hear the voice saying,
"You've just begun. Luck, old boy!"
As quickly as they had come, the
raging noises went, and everything
on the island was silent. A state of
excitement lingered over the little
scouting party as they huddled
around a signal map in an effort to
locate their exact position.
"Here we are," one soldier
pointed out on the map. "We are
only. a short distance from Tree M,
where we are to receive a reply to
"Good work," said Sergeant
Svendsen. "Now, men, keep your
eyes peeled for a white pigeon.
There she- comes, right on sched-
ule. Here's hoping we get to Tree
M before she does."
, Y ..',- , ' 1
,vig ,T .. - r X.
With as much tenseness as his
master, Eric watched the graceful
white bird soar through space closer
and closer to its destination.
"Men, that bird means life or
death to us," Svendsen said serious-
ly. "We must get that message."
Suddenly a shot pierced the still-
ness. The bird plummeted toward
the ground and into the icy waters
off shore. A muffled groan rose
from the little group of men.
No sooner had the bird fallen than
Eric Red's body began to quiver with
the eagerness of a true retriever.
With only .instinct.to guide him, he
launched himself into the bitter surf
so quickly that he did not hear his
master's frantic cry, "Come back,
Red, you'll be killed."
Slowly he pressed on toward the
bird as bullets pinged around him.
Closer and closer he came. Ah, now
he had her securely in his mouth,
ready to return to the shore. A
sharp pain pierced his side as he
swam, but he refused to give up his
struggle. Shakily he crawled into
some thickets on shore. The pain in-
tensified, but Eric Red forced his
way through the underbrush until
he caught sight of the men for whom
he was searching. With a whimper
of pain a badly-wounded hero col-
lapsed under the strain of his deed
as he laid- his prize at the feet of
his master and felt strong arms em-
bracing him, while a well-known
voice said, "Good work, fella, good
Weeks later Eric Red lay curled
up at the feet of his buddy-in-arms,
peacefully gnawing the remains of a
ham bone. He could hear his master
proudly relating his heroic dog's ac-
tion as he displayed the beautiful
bronze medal awarded Eric for valor
and loyalty to duty. Lieutenant
.Tame Svendson was very happy that
day, and Eric Red's heart surged with
triumphant joy, for he knew that he
had pleased his master.
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Page 41 text:
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Morning, In Hawaii
K Carolyn Atkins, '45
The golden sunlight trips along the
Of ranging mountains glistening in morn-
' ing dew.
Below, the gaily colored parakeets -
Chatter in palms that lean o'er waters
The gentle surf rolls up to lap the beach,
And breezes soft caress and cool the sand.
The rising sun with 'hues of gold and
Tints up the fleecy clouds that grace the
The valley swathed in its cloak of smoke
Awakes to greet the coming of the day.
The freshness of the night abides and
In every nook and glen of forest shade.
Without this marvel done each day for us
WlJat source -would be our hopes, our
' life, our trust? '
Hazel Muller, Post Graduate
Beauty blooms about us all,
Lodged in willows' graceful, tall,
Blushing in roses crowned by dew,
Smiling in a sky so bright and blue.
Beauty breathes about us all,
Norma Mae Miller, '45
While walking through the woods one
I stumbled on a nook V
lVhere different colored flowers
And a sparkling brook
Glided over mossy stones
Bubhling on its way
And pretty little fishes darted
Merrily in their play.
The air so sweet, the grass so nice,
The home of dove and raven,
T'was a minature paradise
This calm and tiny haven.
Why Can"t I Be Like Others?
Regina Taylor, '45
I wish that I could be
just like the other girls
Who always look'so pretty
With their hair all done in curls.
They wear such pretty dresses,
And look so neat 'and clean.
Their eyes have a certain sparkle,
And they always look so keen.
My Brother Pete h
N M. L. Vosbein, '46
I know a not-so-little boy V
Who is as cute as he can be, ,H
He's not so smart, but all the sahie
Means all the world to me.
He's just about five feet, I guess,
His eyes are big and brown.
There is a lot of mischief there,
And seldom does he frown.
He's not a genius, but he's smart,
In that he's just like mother,
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Gowned in leaves of russet fall Tbflf 55005 "ff 0110415 P015-'beds Be in all the world" 'herds iw' one
Laughing in streams so crystalline clear, Th'-'if -'Wkf lffmfd down iflff fighl 'I Petef
Dancing on sunbeams throughout the A-V f0f me, 1 INN d0'1'f WW -'Wm Hes my tblftem year old brother'
Jregf. To be anything but a sight. g
Beagzty abides gwith us all, A Sailoy-
Em racing bot the great and small, ' h
I-Iovering ever in our sight The Life A Rose , . Alma Mitchell, '45
From golden morn to blackest night. Hazel Muller, post Graduate Bell-bottom trousers ,
Frail infant bud, Goff of 'WWJ' blue. '
So dainty, fresh and sweet to see, While WP ffl 50 ldfmflt'
A melancholy life does live, That's a sailor true.
Full soon is plucked from the tree.
. The girls all flock to see them
Full young bloom, Marching lmudly by . '
Who blows 'fore tempest, wind and rain, They yearn to see their boy friend
Or feebly droops' from scorcing sun, And ff? to fffffb bf-f eye-
Does lift her head up high again. . g
But marching down the avenue
Aged Nga, msg' With eyes so straight ahead
A-smiling through her pain and tears, Had lore to wie? md -'mile at he'
A ,oyal Mau to you 1 give A But marches on mstead.
Who has survived those cruel years.
Coat of navy blue - T
lVhile you're fighting on the seas'
She'll be ever true.' .
E-C-H-O-E-S ' V Thirty-nine 4 -
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Page 43 text:
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By Honore Morrow
IN March, 1861, the United States
was alive with inward struggleg
the strong bonds of the Union were
severed and bleeding. The Southern
States, joining together to form the
Confederacy, elected Jefferson Davis
to lead them in their fight-for slav-
ery, while Abraham Lincoln, the
backyard lawyer, was inaugurated as
President of the United States. Be-
cause the author gives an accurate
account of the arguments for and
against slavery, one understands the
Southern land-owners' great need for
slaves, but realizes that the equality
of man holds true, regardless of
Though his appearance does not-
merit it, -Lincoln was possessed of a
brilliant mind and a charming per-
sonality. He awkward height, his
too prominent ears, his shambling
gait, his huge hands and feet, and
the striking sparkle of his grey eyes,
full, deep, and penetrating, were
merely disguise for a man, whose
genius will be remembered forever.
Mrs. Morrow' excels in her portrayal
of Lincoln and his struggle to over-
come many hardships.
' When the time came for Lincoln
and Tad, his youngest son, to leave
the Union army camp, which they
visited, Taddie seemed to have mys-
teriously disappeared. Finally, he was
found by the bridge, crying 'for his
father. On his arrival, Lincoln asked,
"Did you get homesick all of a sud-
den, Taddie?" f'Don't touch me,
Papa,".commanded the tiny lad .in a
voice hoarse from long sobbing. "Pm
unda' my own a' west. I sent fo' you
to tell you I have ,to stay hea'alI
night." "What bad thing have you
done, Taddie?" Lincoln asks solemn-
ly, "I killed something I loved. The
co'po'al gave me a little weeny white
kitten. Then I stopped hea' to play
with itg I played it was Jeff Davis
and I was an Indian chief and I threw
my bowie knife at it. I didn't want
to hu't it but the di'ty skunk of a
E-C-H-O-E-S . ,
knife slipped and went in the kit-
ten's soft belly and it mewed and
mewed, and I couldn't stop it or help
it, and it died. I knew you wouldn't
punish me so I'm doing it myself."
In this touching scene, the author de-
scribes'the character of "Tiny Tad"
and his knowledge of his father's
"Forever Free," an intriguing his-
tory of Lincoln's life -in the White
House, is a fast-moving account of
the "Great Em,ancipator's" struggles
for the abolition of slavery. Becom-
ing familiar with the prominent poli-
ticians and problems of the dav, the
reader thereby increases his knowl-
edge of facts concernnig the Civil
War. Many of the everyday happen-
ings which influenced Lincoln's mag-
nificent decisions arelvividly and ac-
curately described by Mrs. Morrow,
whose ceaseless research into the life
of Lincoln is shown by the length of
the bibliography. Exceeding-ly en-
ioyable are the scenes concerning
Lincoln's relations with his family:
his gentleness in the rearing ofhis
children is the source of much hu-
mor. Highlv entertaining, this en-
chanting book should be enjoyed by
any reader whol desires a better
knowledge of Lincoln's term as Pres-
ident ofl-our country.
Ann Levy, '46.
Red Rock .
Thomas Nelson Page
THE setting is laid in the' South,
somewhere in that vague region
partly in one of the old Southern
States and partly in the yet vague
"Land .of Memory." The people in
the story speak of it as, "the Red
Rock section," "the old country," or
just, "my country, sir."
Of the many characters the one
who impresses the reader most is
J acquelin Gray, the son of the owner
of Red Rock. In the opening scenes,
Jacquelin and Blair Cary, the beau-
tiful young daughter of Dr. John
Cary are playmates. When war is de-
clared, Jacquelin, fifteen years- old,
. , '.-13.14 x I
leaves to fight for the South, and
when he returns, to his home after
the war, he finds many of the old
places destroyedg because of' an
illness, Jacqulin takes a trip around'
the world. Upon his return, his Mo-
ther dies leaving his brother, Rupert,
and him under the guidance of Aunt
Thomasia. With the other men of
that section, he then fights the car-
pet-baggers and finally overcomes
their tyrannical rule. In the end,
Jacquelin marries Blair and returns
to his former home.
Mr. Page, a prominent author of
Southern literature, lucidly describes
the rolling Red Rock country, the for-
ests and meadows, and the sparkling
streams bubbling over rocks or wind-
ing under willows and oaks. We see
the realm of old time courtesy and
high breeding, when all men bow low
before ladies and wear swords to de-
fend their honor. The author has
given us an engrossing novel in
which he brilliantly combines adven-
ture, tragedy, and humor.
Rhea Brennan, '46.
THIS adventurous story of the early
nineteenth century has for its
setting the section of the turbulent
Mississippi River between a small
Swedish settlement in Minnesota and
St. Louis, Missouri.
In "Swift Rivers" Chris Dahlberg,
the main character, is a young
Swedish boy with 'all the determina-
tion and courage a youth can pos-
sess. Being ill treated by his uncle,
Chris leaves him and goes to live
with his aged grandfather who abides
in a large forest. Striving to find a
way to make money to support his
grandfather and himself, he cuts
timber from the forest and floats it
down the river to St. Louis. '
An arresting scene is one in which
some of the most valuable logs dis-
appear during a wreck which occurs
on the trip down the river. Chris
and a friend desperately- set out in a
small boat to look lfor them. After
hours of searching, the boys find the
logs in a small lagoon guarded by
hostile Indians. Plans are madefor
retrieving them without the Indians
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