Hamden Hall Country Day School - Perennial Pine Yearbook (New Haven, CT)

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0 TRUE HEROISM This story happened at a farm situated far in the country where one could walk for hours to find other people. It lay beside a hill which was covered with many trees, one more beautiful than the other. The farm was at that time already very old and so were the inhabitants. It was very early in the morning. The sun had started the day after a long sleep and brought its smiling happiness and joy to the earth, and the air was full of peace. The birds were busy looking for food to feed their hungry young ones. Two roosters, the rulers of the big hen-house beside the stable, guided their flock, consisting of an old hen and many little chickens, to the food dish which stood under the old elm tree and was known as the best one of the whole farm. But the peace does not last very long when two roosters have to eat together. After a short time they argued about a kernel of corn, in spite of there being plenty to feed four roosters. ' The one said, That is my cornf, No, said the other, that is my corn. I noticed it first. But it was put there for me, said the first. So both became very angry and spread out their wings, opened their beaks, and the second cried, The corn is mine, because my breed is the better one. No, my breed is better, as my family is older. But l came from a brown egg and brown is the most beautiful color. But l was born in a white egg and white is the most beautiful color. I am right. No, I am right. The roosters saw now that the problem had to be solved in another way and so both screamed, The right is with the stronger one. They attacked furiously. They jumped in the air in order to rush on the enemy and to tear off some feathers. The kernel of corn, which was the reason for all this disturbance, was already trodden into the mud. The old hen with her chickens tried to stop them, but nobody paid any attention to her. All the animals had interrupted their work to watch the fight. ' fifty-two

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THE LUCK OF THE IRISH As she strolled down Fifth Avenue, Colleen O'Brien admitted to herself that never was there so grand or so beautiful a country as America. Of course, she could never love it as she loved her native Ireland and the little house in Carrick where she had been born, but she did love it as the land of miracles and wonders that it was. Why, four days after her boat had docked she had been employed as a maid by a rich New York family and had earned more money than she had ever seen or had before in her life. Only one thing bothered her: Americans certainly had strange customs, she was sure she would never understand their ways. just the other day Mrs. Vandershack, her employer, had requested the queerest thing of her. Colleen, she had said, as you are the maid in this house, it is your duty to answer the door. It is the custom among the better families in New York to use calling cards whenever we go visiting. So please take the small silver tray on the hall table to the door with you. The visitor will put her card on this and then you bring it to me. That afternoon the front doorbell rang. Colleen, remembering Mrs. Vandershack's words, approached the door with the tray in her hand. What should she say? Mrs. Vander- shack hadn't told her that. Opening the door she thrust the tray out under the visitors' noses and said as politely as she could, Tickets, please. A long pause followed-finally three cards were placed on the tray. Colleen drew the tray inside and slammed the door shut. On receiving the cards Mrs. Vandershack was overjoyed. Imagine, the heads of the Socialite Club had come to visit her. Trying to hide her excitement she sauntered slowly down the stairs, but on looking around did not perceive her guests. Colleen, she whispered, where are they? Why, Mum, I left them standing out on the doorstep. With a moan Mrs. Vandershack rushed to the door and looked out. There was no one there. Colleen left Mrs. Vandershack's the next day. She still didn't know why she had been discharged, but anyway, everything was all right. For now, one day later, she was on her way to her new job. Goodness, things certainly happened fast in America. It really was a wonderful country. Ann Perkins Form IV fifty-one

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High up in the air a hawk circled, unobserved by the inhabitants of the barnyard. Suddenly it swooped down on the roosters who immediately flew into the hen-house. The birds abruptly stopped their discussion and disappeared. The whole place was now silent as a grave. Only the old hen remained, trying to find a safe spot. She collected her chickens and barely had time to give them a shelter under her wings when the hawk attacked her with a long jump. Now something unexpected happened. The hen fought so courageously that the hawk was greatly wounded. Will the right be with the stronger one? The fight was not fair and the hen, which became weak because of her many wounds, would have been defeated without the help of the farmer who stepped out because of the noise of the fight. He drove away the hawk which rose in the air, for the first time defeated. So, by the quarrel of the roosters, which had been based on such a little and vain cause, all the inhabitants of the barnyard had come into danger of destruction. Heinrich-Otto Eichmann Form III A LA PRIMAVERA El invierno es al fin terminadog Demos la bienvenida a la primavera. Las canciones de aves son hermosas, Yel aire tiene el sentido de frescura. Las flores provienen en los camposg Son azules los cielos brillantes sin nubes. Los arroyos son claros y limpiosg El son brilla sobre las sierras y llanadas. Las brisas oscilan y tocan lizeramente Las lagunas y los riochuelos centellandos. Los pimpollos aparecen en los arboles, Enganando las climas de los cepos. Cantan los grillos en la hierba altag Las abejas zumban sonolientamente Desde una Hot linda a otra En la madreselva perfumada verde. Los petirrojos cantan dulcemente En la dulzura de las lilas, Y las rosas exquisitas en la brisa Perfuman el aire de la primavera tarcle. Victor Richer Form VI fifty-three