Girls Latin School - Liber Annalis Yearbook (Boston, MA)

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. , . yyyyy yyQzQsyLyatin Qchoolyw ikaik SONG FQ o A Qc Q 5 MR Q:--3 kg KEN 1422 9 QMS . C ' ' i X : 9 f x 0 uh 4 I lv' Nw 5 K is Hail to our Latin School, Guide of our youth, Making our lives sincere. Searching for the truth. Forever on our way Loyal uJe'll be. Hail, Alma Mater dear, We'll cherish thee, As on life's way we toil, Thy words we heed, Noble in thought we'll be Righteous in each deed. Bearing thy spirit on, Brave to the end. Our lives thy tribute be. Teacher and friend. GLORIA REED. LPagc Ifortyffourb 11

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X f , A C AS -S T3 O E' Pl ONWARD As we leave these hallowed halls, Familiar walls, and sacred rooms, Each her separate goal will strive to reach. Without school's guiding hand To point the way, but yet Endowed with something fine To lead us on, For inspiration all our lives Ideals received here we shall keep: Ideals of loyalty and faith and hope, Of scholarship and honor, Ideals that will in years To come help us to make Our lives sincere. Cold indiHference must go And with it foolish whims and fears, The gay frivolity of carefree youth Must change to serious thoughts. For college now awaits us Or work that brings us nearer To the active world, Vague, uncharted, lies our future: For the joyous world we know today Tomorrow will be changed to something new: But knowledge here acquired And noble aspirations Will guide us to our goal, The gleaming heights. Think not that from the busy world We can stay for long. A force Magnetic draws us close: and we are woven In the world's vast pattern By a strong, relentless hand, Till we ourselves become The Weavers firm. When brave ideals and deeds transmuted Are to happiness for all, A backward glance along the road we've traveled Then will show us, looming In the distance, clear, This school as our Hrst step Toward the vision bright, The portals open wide are flung: The roadway stretches straight ahead. Vvlhat though bright-flowered paths and whispering trees, Soft grass and singing birds May charm our eager hearts? The steep way let us choose- To the shining heights. HINDA M. LAMPKIQ. tljage Iforty-threel

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T ga ..--n. Q 7 gm lunnn. W ,E .-aun. ya , ff , 'F A Q ,lib ' W lil HSTEQN RY an 'A .VA I' Mmm.. CLIO ON THE AIR All Mount Olympus lay beneath the grasp of the rosy-fingered Dawn, but not one of the Olympian divinities was stirring, for it was Saturday morn- ing, and mortals did the housework. But suddenly from the temple of the Muses on one side of the gold-paved Olympian avenue, a hideous, raucous screech issued forth, a sound as of great pain and torture and the unremitting yells of wild animals. Clio, how many times have I told you to put the soft pedal on that alarm clock! complained one of the Ten Sisters as she turned over. I've got a job, groaned Clio, stopping the alarm, and pushing out one toe to test the temperature of the atmosphere. I can't be late, and it takes the loud one to wake me up! I remember. It's that Latin School business, supplied Mnemosyne. Don't forget to heat my ambrosia, Clio. Clio, having found the temperature suitably Elysian, had arisen and dressed in a White sheet with beautiful royal purple crepe paper trimmings. Eheu, sighed Clio, and ordered a mortal from Hades to heat the am- brosial oatmeal for breakfast. A half hour later Dawn's whole glowing hand had become visible, and from her temple home, Clio was emerging, a black and gold scroll tucked under her arm. She sped with Olympian airiness to the mansion of President Zeus, who had had a radio broadcasting station installed in his living room CPresi- dent Zeus' hobby was running divine amateur hoursj. Mercury, the radio announcer, had by this time temporarily recovered from the prolonged hypnotic powers of his friend, Morpheus. He was a bit broader amidships than his portrait statue of over a thousand years ago, because he was a little older, and since the invention of the radio, he sat down to send his mes- sages wireless. His only activity was leading a chorus of Naiades, with his caduceus for a baton. Now Mercury called over the microphone in perfect Shakesperian English, I-Xttentionl O ye avid mortals! This is station IQIT speaking. We have with us this morning a goddess whom the whole world has continually ac- claimed in the past, and Who, at the request of a far-off city-state Bostonia, has agreed to read to us the History of the Class of 1937 of the Girls' Latin School. A CPage Forty-fivej