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Page 84 text:
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Tzzrjolei Tatches Teing Homesick T'S THE queerest feeling, not to be homesick this year. I can't quite make it out. Last year one had only to look at me to bring forth tears, many, many tears! And on those occasions, which were frequent, I would always find myself encountered by a dozen or more conforting people telling me not to cry, little girl. There's no reason for being homesickf, No, of course there isnft, but at the time one might just as well have told me not to die. Such advice sounded just about as logical to me! It was on those occasions that I felt very much in sympathy with murderers. I knew exactly how they felt before killing a victim. I wanted so much to kill all these people who tried to comfort me, when I didnit want to be comforted. This year things are different. There has been a great change. I feel that the school is mine. And why not? The teachers are not terrifying, as they were last year, I have my same nice room with the seven windows, and try as I may I havenit been able to squeeze out a single tear,-in fact-I ind it ever so hard to suppress loud giggles in the most unappropriate places. The only thing that worried me at the beginning of the year was the attitude of some of those new girls. I certainly did wish theyid get over being homesick. There really wasnit any reason for it, you know. J OANNE PENDLETON. I dreamt I dwelt in marble halls With high arched ceilings, Wide stairs descending And a thousand crystal tapers burning, Knights and ladies, music, dancing, Rustling silks, and gay plumed fans, Flattery and tinkling laughter, ruby wine. Outside in the cool dark garden I sat. Trim hedges sheltered drowsy birds, And the pale marble moon Shed a pale marble light Which cast fantastic shadows On the pale marble fountain And turned its little spray Into miniature waterfalls. Trees stood out like giant shadows, And the perfume of the rose garden Suffocated me with its sweetness. I was submerged as in a silver sleep of moon-mist, My identity hidden in the plashing fountain, I was a statue in pale marble. V I MARY LOUISE CHAMBERLAIN. 14, Q l l 4 l l
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Page 83 text:
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Turple Tatchesi The Gomniutersf' a' HE Main Line paraphrase of the hackneyed proverb The Early Bird Catches the WOPH1,,, from the observations of a casual observer, might well be 'iThe Quick-Stepper Catches the Train. i' From seven--fifteen until nine every morning, commuters need not refer to their Walthams for the correct time. They need only glance through the window and, by the momentum of the people going toward the sta- tion, accurately judge the time. One or two ambling along the street indicate that it is a quarter after or a quarter before the hour, for they are the early birds. If the strollers are in closer formation, it is five minutes later. At twenty- Hve after or five minutes of, acceleration has set in and although no one is trampled on in the onslaught of black derbies and brown Stetsons, the kisses left at the cracks of the door are hasty-or entirely forgotten. Three minutes of ever increasing momentum pass while a friendly game of leap-frog is played along every curb, each commuter sincere in his desire not to be the one after the last to hop on the approaching Paoli Local. The ranks and files are thinning now and the ex-Olympians hold full sway. The train at the station is their goal. Not until the Peep- Peepi' of the starter,s whistle, do they display any indications of early training as short-stops in the Inter-Backlots Baseball Leaguef' The one after the last to board the 7:29 train finds himself it,' and the game begins again. Train chasers have no confidence in timepieces. Mr. Trotter may swallow his coffee with his eye on Big Ben but if he sees '6Miss Always- there pass by, he relaxes his vigil confident that he need not drain his coffee cup as one would who is the owner of an asbestos-lined throat. Should Mrs. Trotter, who is on sentry duty, announce that Jack Mara- thon has cleared the railing of his porch, Mr. Trotter overturns his chair in his mad rush, kisses his wife as he would a dead relative, and enters the mad race. In the evening the scene shifts to the city and everything is much the same except the amount of danger involved! There is not as much room in the city as in the suburbs, for racing, and, for some unexplain- able reason, the traffic cop is generally against one. If Mr. Trotter has paid the last premium due on his insurance policy, he blithely leaps over a few 'cyellowsi' and with his free hand holds back a persistent Ford. Otherwise he stands at City Hall until a sufficient crowd of similarly disposed people have collected, and together they charge across to the 5:13 express. - KATHERINE KEELER. 13
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Page 85 text:
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Turple Tatches The Forsaken .jllerman IFFERENT, indeed, from the cavern of the Merrnan, was Margaret's little village home. We had better peep first into the room in the small village, or we might not want to leave the beautiful cavern to see it. It was a small house, set back from the beach on a street which contained many similar homes. The dwell- ing's chief charm lay in its cosiness and the large fire-place. Childrerfs toys were scattered on the floor, giving one a feeling of happiness. An old-fashioned rocker stood near the window. The only other article of furniture was a table which held a sewing basket, filled with stockings. Well might we say the cavern was different. Instead of the fire-place were amber walls studded with lovely jewels. The floor was laid in pink coral. Instead of the table with the sewing basket there was a beauti- fully colored shell with brilliant sea weeds flowing over it. Dazzlingly bright stones took the place of the toys. One would think that nothing beautiful was lacking g-but where was God's sun? JEAN WATSON, '29. Gmmmazfical Gonsidemtions SMILE is a facial expression that signifies a mood. This mood is Imperative. In Voice, a smile is sometimes Passive, yet is always extremely Active. In Tense, it is Present, and in Number, Plural, though a smile may be unusually Singular. It may be in any Person, but we generally consider the Third Person unnecessary. A smile may be Simple, but is, as a rule, Compound-compounded of love and youth-and sometimes ending in complex results. Likewise, though smiles do not contain clauses as a usual thing, they sometimes end in marriage clauses. A smile is a noun, it is the best thing with which to begin the day. It is a predicate noun as it is returned to the subject. It is a pronoun- I, you, he, she and they, and is also an adverb of manner-and of degree, being at times chill, at times rather warm., Most important of all, a smile is a transitive verb, as it takes an object 'to complete its meaning. A smile can be diagrammed, being placed on the face of the sub- ject and spread from ear to ear. If not properly diagrammed or placed correctly in a sentence, smiles breed jealousy. A slight modification corrects this error or state of evil-being. An older person might add that a flirtatious smile creates no good. Wicked grammarians, where are their memories? Can they not recall that they studied this type of smile, too, and used it? Really, since grammar is so pleasant, and smiles bring so much happiness, study with us, and, packing your troubles in your kit-bag, Smile, smile, smile I 3' c HELEN DERY, '29, 15
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