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

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Class of 1937 On the first day of April the girls all got a chance to find out their class- mates' childhood weaknesses. Perhaps it was a teddy bear, or a doll. or a floppy-eared calico dog. but whatever the toy, each senior on Baby Day re- sembled her sixth class sister very strongly. Short dresses and rompers were the vogue, and there seemed to have been a race to see who could carry the big- gest lollypop. Now take that marching more slowly. There's no rush. Orders from the gym teachers. Not for the gym meet, for that was over and forgotten long ago: but this marching meant much more to the class of '37, Class Day! Afternoons of practice and preparation all culminated in the beautiful ceremony that Class Day always was. How impressively the seniors sang their song, the essayist declaimed, the poet read, and the class president welcomed. Ending with the always popular Class Day prom, the day was one long to bf: re- membered by every senior. Greatest of all days-graduation day. Need a historian record the de- tails of a day so vital in the lives of all the girls? My saga is ended, and my farewell glimpse of the class of '37 finds them walking away from the red brick building, with shining faces, clutching tightly a large white scroll tied with blue ribbons. Clio's musing voice here ceased. Slowly she rolled the gilded scroll. Suddenly, from a great distance, there burst a mighty, deep-throated roar of thunder. Was Zeus in fury? Clio wheeled quickly around. The rumbling thunder continued, but Zeus was nowhere to be seen. The air.was sunny: there was no lightning. Mercury, she shouted. Wake up quickly. The president is very sick! Call Aesculapius! Mercury appeared in the doorway, and laughed merrily. Without a word, he pointed to a television set, a very sensitive one, possessed only by Pres- ident Zeus. Clio quickly understood. Rushing up to it, she dialed, Schola Latina Puellarum, Bostonia, U. S. A. And immediately, before her eyes she saw the members of the graduating class clapping tirelessly and cheering vehemently. They had just heard her broadcast. A sigh of joy and relief escaped the lips of Clio as she hastened away to finish a hangover game of badminton. MARY LOUGHLIN HOPE NEWMAN fPage Fifty-oneb

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-,E ...... 5, ,M ...... 5, Girls, Latin School ...... be ,ld ...... ...E had never won it. Now they would do it or die in the attempt. After all, they were an ambitious crew. A mere champion noise-making title was not enough to satisfy them. The biennial play of 1936 was The Brontesf' given for the first time in Latin School history in the hall of the Public Latin School. The use of this hall marked a great event in the life of the Girls' Latin School, for it is a beau- tiful hall with very line acoustics. The end of the year was drawing near. College boards! The terror inspiring sevenths held in preparation for those about to go to the guillotine were themselves really worse than the guillotine CC. E. E. BJ, for those emerg- ing found that their heads were still on their shoulders, and their senior year had arrived. CLASS I In September of 1936 again a throng of girls filed into that low red brick building in the Fenway. Yet there was a difference: this year the heroines of my story, instead of wee, pig-tailed tots, were the tallest girls, those with an air of familiarity toward their surroundings. They were now seniors. Seniors! They had reached that state Where there were no privileges for students from which they were barred. This new mantle, however, settled comfortably over their shoulders, and by the time the first assembly, from which Class I marched first in a body, was over, the cloak fitted as if it had always belonged to them. The class officers this year were very businesslike young ladies, who di- rected class meetings, proms, and parties in the most eilicient manner. The list includes Norma Norlund, president Patience Sanderson, vice president Hazel Hartwell, secretary Katharyn Nagle, treasurer. Possum, quia posse videntur, shouted the ardent enthusiasts of the fall hockey season, to cheer their classmates on. After this event Cwhich, by the way, they wonb worried Virgil teachers began to smile and say that perhaps all hope of teaching Class I to use their classical Latin was not lost. Yet not all the senior subjects were progressing as well. In the chemistry laboratory perplexed pupils tried to master formulas and valences and such mysteries as the electronic theory. Experiments popped, and test tubes broke, and still these mad chemists worked on to produce nitrogen where only oxygen wanted to be produced. January brought with it the young aviator, Ben Baker, and his flight into South America. In Riding Down the Sky, the gayest operetta imaginable, the songbird of Icd had the leading role, while the president and the villain, to say nothing of the beautiful ladies, were all members of Class I. 'AChin up a little higher. Now, smile. That's right. Now a serious one. No, those were not stage directions, they were merely mutterings of Purdy's photographer, trying to make raving beauties out of all the Girls' Lat- inites. And strange as it may seem, the photographer did make everyone look pretty and caused remarks like this to be heard, Oh, look at Betty's picture. Why I never knew she was that good looking! Well, be that as it may. fPage Fiftyj

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IN! Ffh PROPHECY Hurry, or we'll miss the plane, called Verna Rudnick to Edith Lank, That article can wait. Verna and Edith, Girls' Latin School graduates of the class of l937, had been fortunate in Ending employment on the same news- paper, Verna as photographer and Edith as star reporter. Now they both had been ordered by the editor of the newspaper, Shirley Cohen, to cover the Am- erican Teacher Convention in the far off city of Huntington and were hurry- ing to their plane, which was due to leave within the hour. VVhere did you say you were to meet Mary Harrington and Lydia .lo- nuska? called Edith as they clambered into the waiting taxi. At the East Airport, because before leaving for her vacation Lydia wants to get an interview from Irma Pearlmutter concerning her airport. By the way, do you know who owns this system of taxis? Sylvia Bebchick! Quite a good business, too, they say. Remember at school-? But Edith's thoughts were far from what she was saying. It wouldn't be diflicult to obtain a good story this time. Lydia Jonuska, a special feature writer, was going along and Mary Harrington, head of the city's largest publishing house, too, so that things were bound to happen, Lydia had already obtained the necessary facts from Irma, so the quartet immediately made their way to the plane. As they were boarding it, they met Vera Colmes, the noted surgeon, hurrying to catch another plane which would take her to the hospital of which she was in charge. With her was Dorothy Bernstein, her trusted nurse. Once the girls were settled in their comfortable quarters, they talked of Vera and her hospital. A good many girls we know are doctors at that hos- pital, said Lydia. I know, I wrote a column about it, at one time. There's Gloria Reed, who specializes in tropical diseases: and Barbara Dunn, who spe- cializes in bone diseases: besides Betty Ann Kosters. Janet Katz. and Miriam Morrison. And the nursing staff includes Marjorie Quinlan, Betty Welch. and Shirlee Weinberger. Yes, and if I remember correctly, Edna Kohn, Reva Cobin, and Rose Yardumian are members of the dietetics department, added Edith. l'Everybody comfortable? sang out the cheery voice of the hostess, who turned out to be none other than Salwa Hajar. Why, my heavens! she cried, staring at her passengers. This seems to be Girls' Latin School week. On my last trip I had Hinda Lampke and Estelle Heffler on their way to France to preview the new styles for their respective fashion establishments: and now tPage liifty-twoj