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

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Across the street in the pond of Wonder- land Common, we saw birds, rabbits, and ducks, riding in Dodo Boats, invented by Nancy Reynolds and Ruth Mann. Carrnella DiSciuiio was sitting on a rock with her sketchbook, while a walrus from a passing Dodo Boat threw peanuts to her. Over to one side a long streamer was strung up between two trees. Across the streamer in bright red letters were the words, Vote for Lorraine Maclntyre for President and Mary Kane for Vice-presi- dent. As we stood there, wondering what ticket Lorraine and Mary were running on, Lor- raine Moran sped up to us on her roller skates, and said, It's nearly six o'clock. Hurry! Then she skooted away again. What do you suppose is the matter with her? said Daphne. It's only two in the afternoon. That's it, cried Betty Lou. It's the Mad Hatter's tea party. Come on, girls. And so we started through the woods to the tea party. Soon a clearing appeared in the forest. In it stood a large table, where the Mad Hatter and March Hare were hav- ing tea. Between them slept Irene Roman, Louise Riordan, and the Dormouse. When do you suppose they will wake up? asked the Mad Hatter, as he looked longingly at their cold tea. How should I know? said the Hare. They've been like that for the past ten years. Sleeping, drinking cold tea, sleep- ing, drinking cold tea, sleeping - - Oh, keep quiet, will you? shouted the Hatter. What difference does it make when they wake up? Who asked you, any- way? I think we ought to go before they see us, said Betty Lou. I was just beginning to think the same thing myself, replied Harriet. But look! The Hatter's stopped yelling. The guests are arriving. Come on. Let's go. In the confusion we slipped in without being noticed. At once our attention was I 48 attracted to the Mad Hatter, who rose from his chair, and screamed with all the dignity he possessed, Quiet, quiet, and quiet. I am given the deepest pleasure and happi- ness in presenting to you, the Alumnae of Girls' Latin School, our speakers for this evening: Miss Dorothy Smith, Chairman of the International Federation of Women's Republican Clubs, and Miss Estelle Berman, founder and editor of the outstanding news- paper, A. M. Since Miss Smith is being en- tertained by the Queen this evening, we shall now hear from Miss Berman. Estelle, delighted for an excuse to spill her tea, jumped up, and began, When we consider the integral relationships unques- tionably inherent in such a frame of ref- erence, it becomes conceivable that certain unnatural and unnecessary divergences, un- selfishly or objectively brought to external infiuences, or based on misconceptions of pure misunderstanding, in connection with these prejudices, it must of necessity . . . Daahlings, shrieked a voice from above, and down floated Diane Finn on a big green balloon. I heard some of you were having a big tea party, and I just had to come. Met Catherine Valcar and Patricia Kerrigan on the way. They have built up a big free enterprise for mouse traps with lots of enterprising cheese. Catherine said that Irene Wiener is man- ager in charge of the foreign market, and Joan O'Connor has about brought the mousetrap to perfection through her work in the laboratory. By this time the Mad Hatter had shoved some tea in front of Diane and rose to make the following announcement: Girls, girls, and more girls, it gives me deepest pleasure and happiness to announce that tea is over, and now if we adjourn to the next table, we shall be entertained by Joy Dorfman and her Travelling Performers. The curtain rose, a table collapsed some- where backstage, and Joy came flying out in her toga. This afternoon, Dorfman Dramatics presents a repeat performance of Dido Faces Life, written and directed by J

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her bookcovers, and then she went at it again. Since they had to decide whether the books should be a mustard color with pink spots or pink stripes this time, we excused ourself and left. We were once more on the street when we heard a voice behind us say, Fm SO happy. We knew instantly that it must be Carol Popp, and so it was. She was de- lighted to see us, and told us all the latest news. She said that Barbara Lomax was a judge now, and Marion Kohr a skillful law- yer. She had read in the Gazette that Marion had been the attorney for the de- fense when the Knave of Hearts had been accused of stealing the tarts. The case had come up before Barbara just the week before. Another item of interest was that Mary Joan Cronin had become a famous scientist, and now spent her time defying the Law of Gravity. As soon as Carol had left us, we started for the seashore. Scarcely had Wwe gone a little way along the beach, when we heard a melancholy song, intermingled with long, heavy sobs. Rounding the bend, we saw Greta Jones and Sally Ann Ferry doing a Lobster Quadrille with the Mock Turtle. Two lines, cried the Mock Turtle. Clear away' the jelly 'fish and away we go- Two head lobsters cross over, And by your gentleman pause. Two side lobsters cross over, And all join claws. Honor -yourf corner lobster, Swing your partner more, Dosados to your partner, And promenade the shore. After the first six measures, the three went skipping down the beach, and dis- appeared over the horizon. My! times do change, said Betty Lou. While we stood there wiggling our toes in the sand, we suddenly caught the famil- iar 'drone of Amo, amas, amat, coming from behind a pile of brown seaweed. Our first thought was to run in the opposite di- rection, but our second thought was to find out why Virginia D'Arcy was reciting Latin. There she was, her Latin class spread before her - ten of the biggest, brightest oysters we had ever seen. And that was not all. Further down the beach we saw Barbara Shafran with all the little oysters, who were playing In and Out the Windows. We decided to leave Virginia and Bar- bara to their oysters, and continued down the shore. Having proceeded only a little way, we came across Joyce Gandle, who was writing in the sand with her toe. Joyce had been around the world, and was now writing her autobiography, The Universe and How I Love It. Every time she fin- ished a chapter, however, thetide would rise, and wash it away. While we stood there, trying to think of something comforting to say to Joyce, the Dormouse and the March Hare came run- ning up to inform us of the premier of Macbeth at Ye Old Wonder Playhouse. Be- cause of a delay in changing rowboats, we didn't arrive until the Sleep Walking Scene. Mary Clifford, the charming and talented hostess, showed us to our seats. On the stage Leila Kirschen, as Lady Macbeth, was attempting unsuccessfully to clean spots off her hands with Duzn't, the new cleaning soap invented by Marie Bibilos. ' The whole first row was occupied by Marie Pritchard and her twelve children, including three pairs of twins. On our way out we passed a Red Cross booth. In one corner stood Esther Walder folding bandages, and in the other corner, Nadine Lane was administering First Aid to some unfortunate individual, who was so foolish as to come up the down stairway. On the street Vivian Schell skooted by on her combination air-land-sea-mobile, driven by jet propulsion. At the corner we saw the dazzling lights of the local show, run by Norma Slade, which was featuring in technicolor Cdone mostly in black and bluesl a film starring Katherine Welch, entitled, How to Fall Gracefully and Harmlessly to the Floor from a Standing Position. , , I f47:l

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Margaret Murphy in her senior year at Latin School. As soon as Joy retreated from the stage, Barbara Wilson leapt into the air, and blew a mighty blast on her conch shellg the curtains parted againg and Dido CMargaret Murphyi sat alone, forgotten, the daisy without its buttercups. She stood there, looking at the Dormouse, and her large eyes filled with tears, but still she said noth- ing. Slowly, however, a deep, hollow hiccup escaped her parted lips, and she sobbed, Aeneas once loved me . . . These words were followed by a long silence. Then the chorus, composed of Connie Hartwell and Barbara Mahoney, continued with a con- stant, heavy moaning until the whole audi- ence had diluted their tea with tears. And thus ended a very successful teaparty. After reviving Daphne with a bottle of ammonia, we continued on our way. We had not gone far when we came across Judith Gordon and the Duchess, who were sitting in a juniper bush, and listening to Muriel Goldberg and Helen Lelecas as they played their first Piano Concerto in H. A few feet away we saw some paint cov- ered with Harriet Nelson Cor was it Harriet Nelson covered with paint?D. Anyway it seems that Harriet had just returned from the Queen's garden where she had been painting the white roses red - a job left unfinished by the gardeners on their execution day. Suddenly the Duchess jumped up and said, I dare say you are coming to the croquet game at the palace? We weren't quite sure whether we dared to or not, replied Betty Lou, who was always rather doubtful about such matters. At that moment Jean Russo appeared with a tremendous cage of flamingoes and hedgehogs. Come on, everybody. Get your mallets and balls for the croquet game. Scarcely had we obtained a flamingo and a hedgehog when the Queen came stomping up, and shouted, Can you play croquet? I 49 Yes, we shouted back. Come on then, roared the Queen. Everyone else in your class is here. And so we joined the procession, wondering what would happen next. Out on the field Lois Carlyle, Marjorie McGee, Grace Fielding, and Arlene Gins- berg were taking the lead. Hedgehogs were rolling about everywhereg a few of the flamingos ran screeching off the field, and in a very short time people were run- ning about in all directions, tumbling up against each other. Suddenly Mary King appeared, mounted upon the Cheshire Cat, and carrying a big crate of medicine to bring everyone back to her senses. Things were finally straightened out. The Queen, feeling that she ought to say something sentimental at this inspiring moment, rose on her tiptoes, and thun- dered, I propose a song to the Class of '46, Let us all join hands. Now everybody SING. 'Twas brillig and the slithy toves Did gyre and gimble in the wabe: All minsy were the borogroves, And the mome raths outgrabef' While we stood there, singing, our hearts were filled with the happiness of reunion and the memories of Girls' Latin. Somehow we rather dreaded the thought of leaving this fantastic Wonderland. Slowly, however, familiar faces began to fade into the greyness of the evening, and with a sigh we turned to face the common- ness of reality. ELIZABETH L. Hom, lab DAPHNE RISKA, Icd HARRIET C. HASELTINE, lef J