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

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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

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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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MY TRIP FROM GERMANY TO AMERICA BY PLANE Very early in the morning of October fourth the Western Air Line plane started for America with thirty-six students. Very excited, my two companions and I looked out of the window of the airport building. It was four o'clock in the morning, and we could see only the shadows and lights on the airplanes. Suddenly it became morning. The sun rose in all colors from behind the hills. From the window we saw the silver birds moving to the starting place, and after a few minutes they were flying into the blue air. After hours spent in yearning, waiting and watching, at six o'clock the pilot called the names for the Western Air Line. After the pilot had checked our visas and other papers, we climbed up the ramp into the plane. Here we found very comfortable chairs, and on the walls, small windows. That was the picture of the airplane. I had my place just in front of the wings, and so I hoped to have a good view. The propellers began to move, first the two on the right and then on the left. There was a terrific noise and the whole bird vibrated through and through. The plane began to move-at first slowly, then faster and faster. In the middle of the field there was a little bump and we left the ground. Our bird climbed higher and higher. Beneath lay the world: in the distance the blue hills of the South, and the town of Frankfurt like a toy village and beyond, the silver line of the Rhine. I never shall forget the picture of the colors, the yellow of the cornfields and the dark green of the forests. Suddenly in front of our plane appeared a dark blue line. Very slowly it grew larger. It was the ocean with its white crowns on the waves. In our plane it began to be very uncomfortable, our bird was taking its first exercises, rolling from one side to the other. The clouds barred our view. Our stewardess called, Fasten your belts. The heavy woolen blankets were now a good protection against the cold breeze. Our plane was sinking and tossing all the time. The stewardess came with a large perfume bottle and for the first time the students got a taste of airsickness. But with singing and laughing the storm was soon forgotten. An hour later we arrived in Ireland with its green fields, hills, lakes and small islands. The clouds sometimes allowed us a view. Here in Shannon was our first rest. After some refreshment and walking on the field, we left Shannon three hours later. Our only desire was No storm. The next flight was the longest-12 hours over the ocean-clouds, water, rain and snow-all the time the same picture, hour after hour. fifty-four