Hathaway Brown School - Specularia Yearbook (Cleveland, OH)

Text from Pages 1 - 128 of the 1945 volume:

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M01 HWQ LWNK QU W X M 03,3 JQQW :. v nu 4 4 . ,- www-- vr' .a -II .X , 'WF C 'fre six, .TU 4 Q' , , yi X xg a, :Nz e. 1 r WF fgjf X59 Qgglsf T0 JMU Coburn We dedicate this book in gratitude for her com' panionship and sympathy with us, who have so often sought her? advice, and who have been guided by her inspiration, comforted by her strength, rewarded by her smile and words of encouragement throughout the years. 6 Q 2 v w + 4 I 1 U Y I In Jlfemory af ffmez' Jlfvgean Beloved by all who knew her and chosen honor girl in recognition and appreciation of D her noble qualities e l f , Z f i N iv T 7 3 CLASS 0F Cl BARBARA BATES Batesy Winnie the Pooh Pevsevevmg oeflectwe altvmstzc whimsical Eff1c1ent editor of Speculazrm Distinguished scholar Nightmare to an opposing basketball forward ldeal laboratory technician of tomorrow BETTY BASSETT Betty Suivezfmoi Buoycmt, fastidious, friendly, tiny Able president of the Dramatic Club 'LI-ler grace, his daughter, too Valuable addition to the Glee Club and the Ensemble BARBARA BLACK Barb Jodpurs Helpful, conversational, generous, cancliol Ardent and skillful horseback rider Would make a brilliant tactician and organizer Has contributed to the school with her consideration ' Is headed for Madison Square Gardens .- MARGARET LUUISE BENTON Peggy. . Shooting star Artistic, enthusiastic, creative, athletic, graceful Famed for her long wavy hair and for her continual uyacikty yackit lack 3 ya Y Remembered for her valuable contributions in the fields of art, music, and athletics Hopes to be a physical education teacher f BARBARA CARTER Carter Skylark Aiialytic, clean'-eyed, amiable, cureffree, olemure Has Won applause with her rapturous voice in the Triple Trio, the Ensemble and The Gondoliem Heard innumerable times for her familiar My soul! Will win acclaim and success in her chosen field of science ELIZABETH BROWN Betsy Spring rain Eutliusiastic, siucefre, lovable iuclustfrious Inimitable in her humorous portrayal of the Duke of Plaza Toro Eager in all athletic activities Always an enjoyable and sunny companion X Sei? I DX, lil W' gf , A Ai Qljw X xiy n W S3 ' Q5 MX QVIV ,X-VBYX NANCY oo, X: 4. J Qu Nanny lv vw J K ' Ruby ' Qi N - Sweet, quiet, sympathetic, artistic Shuns hyprocrisy and artificiality Loves children and yearns to be a nursery school teacher Has won our appreciation of her true value during her years at H.B. NANCY COMEY - Com Teddy bear Clever, spiritetl, amicable, sensible, contemplative Successful in art and in the Glee Club Always an interesting friend and a willing adviser Progenitor of our senior tree Q I f Future author Of How to Make Biology Fun ' PATRICIA DAVIN Patsy Pasty Pagefhoy Vifucicious, imclerstcmcliiig, athletic, conscientious, coinsiclei-cite Energetic president of the Athletic Association A perennial office holder Should he an international hostess FRANCES DARRCW Frannie r Lily of the valley - Congenioil, sympoithetic, fini-loving, poised Remembered for her golden red hair ' Has given her artistic services to the Carnival and the Speculezfficz dance ' Will he second only to Hattie Carnegie in the designers' world ALICE DAY Debbie Sophisticated Lady Stately, frienclly, tolerant, composed Warmfhearted smile and twinkling eyes Graceful dancer and skillful archer Serious interest in social welfare 1 dlTW'X'KX XAfx1yqxfX :ig u.mXXX QAQsQiTpS4f?9' CL' lj 'Lx ull ., ,,l,, lx YL . .5 B A, tx ,W KI'-V5-,'-Nh, c ' 'gb V- i . V ,N NX . LEORA DAVIS . 5' - V9'1lfs-X5 in'x,xQt,'.'N , ,g f 1 Lee X3 yQ-551, I - T' ,CQ '5t, ',,' T. ,,'-QL ll , Hot cross bunk- . of 5 1' . f -4 .- o. QL, .. x Eager, clzllgent, enthaszastzc, natural, smeere Q 'Kf- Lends charm and friendliness to every gathering Adds a lyrical, irreplaceable voice to the Glee Club ls an exceptional basketball player Should be a Sunday school teacher A JEAN DROUILLARD Jeannie Pink tulip Cofnsciewtioiis, popiilar, clepeiwlable, graceful, petite Cften seen poised on skates Giggles like a baby panda Responsible president of the Glee Club Excels in sports and dramatics DIANA DEMPSEY Di Dresden China - Serious, loyal, diligent, wiiisome Loves tennis, swimming, and riding Writes the minutes for the Grder of Willing Service Is congenial with one and all Charms with her appealing voice BARBARA ERWIN Barbie High heels I Willing, sophisticatecl, fcmciful, polite Invaluable assistant to Mrs. .Simmons in the dining' room Most extensive traveler of the class Friendly conversationalist and always a willing helper PATRICIA DUFFY Duff Cotton Compainionclble, amusing, clavmwous, capricious Renowned for her Carnival Kleenex contribution Lover of driving and Chicago trips Standfby of the Science Department HELEN FORWARD Helen Dove Gentle, appealing, reliable, self-cerltaiiiecl A winning smile and a calm manner Always ready and willing to help Ideal homefmaker of the future ANNE EIERY 'Eier P Pathetique Symphony Gracious, clever, sympathetic, meditative Original art editor of Specularia W Writer of witty class songs Talented member of the Dramatic Club Aspires to the heights of Florence Nightingale EDNA GEFFINE Teddy Cf Clef Pleascmt, Nzfythmie, conscientious, steady Competent treasurer of Clee Club and contributive member of Ensemble Prized for her genial companionship Renowned for her piano artistry KATHERINE GRAY Posy Forgetfmefnot Unclerstalncling, sweet-ness, leadership, 'impishness Adds generously to the S pecularia Board, the Clee Club, and the Art Department Has won fame for her orations concerning Friday tables Has gained recognition as vicefpresident of Student Council Has graced Hathaway Brown with her charm u MARY ELIZABETH HANCCCK Lizzie . Chocolate sundae Fun-loving, 1'e.sp0nsiee, depenclcable, jovial, iv'repressibZe Perfect Senior Class president i Publisher of outstanding Reviews in her junior year ' Eamed second soprano in the Glee Club Mrs. Cwen's most brilliant student JOY GREoo JOY Ivory Neat, friendly, responsive, eourteious, stately Ever famous for her black curly hair and dark eyes Admired for her perfect posture Reliable vicefpresident of the school 1 ELLA HORNICKEL Ella Bruno Versatile, loyal, en.ergetic, fun-loving, omniverous Distinguishes herself in the gymnasium, in the 4. art studio, on the Honor Roll, and at senior tables WiH he remembered for her excellent leadership, especially as Student Council president Will attain great heights with her qualities of leadership and organization SUZANNE HARRIS Suzy Blue Grass - Genuine, calm, pezsetiering, C0-opemlitfe Excellent president of the school and Raymond Hall Council member Known for her loyalty in friendship Aspiring to the achievements of Madame Curie L . I ' ELIZABETH HURLCCK Betty Herk Fountain Magnetic spaikling veisatile iesonicefnl influential Active in Glee Club, dramatics, and sports . Leader of H.B.'s most successful Carnival Seen at her best in the midst of people Cn her way to a nursing career NANCY HOURIET Ruth JackfinfthefBox I V Lively, audible, spontaneous, athletic, irrcpressible Quick on the trigger with humorous retorts Contributive member of the Athletic Board Known for her sensational basket shooting Would make an eminent biochemist A f Ma . ,fy , 4 ' a , tff, i 1 ...,..44.W- l 5 ,, r nffrifi .ku iam LUOIE KENNERDELL Lucie Blackfeyed Susan Loyal, serious, apprecfiative, clepelnclable, versatile Envied for her unequaled posture Remembered for her delightful mixture of gravity and genuine humor Adds substantially to Specularia Board, Art Department and class offices JOAN JOHNSON Jonnie Ginger ale ' Peppy, sponlcmeous, pint-sizecl, chattering Active in art and social affairs Known best for her surplus of jewelry Remembered for her dancing feet and friendly humor Appreciates fine music and literature y y 1. 3,1 T' Y 'Uk le I P. fix We y ' W ,4!lLfL MQ' Vi 4 ,, uf Arif i- f yy 01 W WM' JW? LOUISE KUNDTZ Weezie Aunt Jemima Kind, effemfeseent, naive, generorus Continual committee Woman and secretary of the Senior Class Entertaining actress and energetic particpant in athletics The Mark Twain of our class CATHERINE KRUEGER Cathy Gondolier , Talented, quiet, resourceful, mtefresteel Cutstanding in the role of Cfuiseppe Pahnieri Ever appreciated as the chairman of the Carnival Whitefwing Committee Indispensable as a second soprano in the Ensemble lnival mble we 'I L Q: is 513, - '11 s-rum sf- fair. . .YV , Q ROBERTA MACKENZIE Roberta Silver bracelets l7'ig0'l'0lLS, artistic, Zithe, unexcitable Indefatigable and rhythmic dancer Enthusiastic athlete and star in baseball Famed contributor to the Art Department MARY LADDS Ladds Red rose Impulsifue, many-faceted, well-informecl, hearty Plans opportune fire drills Seen on stage and in Ensemble Shows enthusiasm in reading, music, and sports Distinguished for her Wit and individuality JANET MARTIN Jan Slow motion Quiet, artistic, nonchcatcmt, easy-going Distinguished member of the Art Department Talented pianist and contributor to the Clee Club Known for her even temper and clever conversation Should be a blue ribbon artist DOROTHY ANN MARSHALL Inkie Sunshine Raotiotting, sympathetic, gracious, genuine, winsome Adds sparkle to the Clee Club and the Dramatic Club Charms both boys and girls Will be a responsible member of society Was an exquisitely lovely May Queen ISOBEL McCLELLAN Issy Prima donna Musical, meditative, piwposeflzil, imtterstaiicliizg Unforgettable as the Duchess of Plazo Toro Invaluable in the Clee Club and the Ensemble Aspiring to become a second Kirsten Flagstad CHARLOTTE MENK Charlotte Perpetual Motion Eii-thu.sia,.stic, iiiclepencleiit, spirited, thoughtful Contributive member of the Glee Club, Dramatic Club, Ensemble, and art projects s Interested student of sciences Energetic participator in all sports Memorable for her smile and constant cheerfulness 7 ELEANOR MUNRC Ellie New worlds Creative, responsible, poetic, responsive, gaie 0'ne'of the big six! Speculoritz Boom' Prominent contributor to the Dramatic Club and V the Clee Club Endowed with a brilliant mind, an enjoyable sense of humor, and a fanciful imagination ANN MURPHY Murph Shamrock Witty, athletic, lively, hospitable Mainstay of the alto section of the Clee Club Member of the merry Hudson group Contributor to all athletic activities of the school AMIE NEWELL Noodle Cameo Patient, reserved, humorous, agreeable Enjoys reading, good food, and movies ls famed for her dark wavy hair and expressive eyes Would make an exquisite portrait BARBARA NEEDS Barbie Trillium Im-agirmlfion, insight, artislfry, originality, mciepenclence Known for her quiet and friendly disposition Interested in drawing, riding, and writing Future winner of the Nobel Prize for literature JANE READING Jane Orchids Constolerclte, un1ct.s.9mning, h0w'm0'ni0us, athletic Skillful -on the hockey field and on horseback Emanating friendly Warmth to all around her Should make a career as a social Worker PGLLY PRINGLE Pring . Ebony and pearl Ifmlepenlolevnt, apt, scintillating, cwnficable Undertakes all responsibility capably and efficiently Envied for her cleverness and dexterity in sewing Prepossessing actress of the Dramatic Club Charming May Queen attendant of the Senior Class MW JEANNE RUPP Jeannie Peony JJ! MARGARET RICHARDSCN Margie Willow Has a shy and charming smile reliability J H ,-1 -1 . 65,5215 ,XX Xg.' 7' ' ' nw ,f 'q 'JJ , Ov oy -Q2 me Sympathetic, sociable, co-opemtfive, composed Has the qualities which constitute a good friend Dances- boogie Woogie with a lively rhythm Has a zest for merriment Demure, persieoerlfng, sincere, willing Une of our accomplished pianists Has contributed much with her friendship and KATHRYN SHERWCQD Kathy Pussy willow Q Shy, even-tempered, cmzicable, clreamy Will be remembered for her daily chapel discourses A on absence slips Seen riding the Rapid in her daily trips between HB. and Lakewood Enjoys dancing, swimming, and riding SUSAN SHELDON Sueby Daisy Likable, sincere, placid, sweet Ideal blonde with a slow and easy humor Genial spirit at a party -Timely remark: Ever get fooled, Doc? Chosen vocation: social work Dean Zofs 7 V f foufe, 0-f qnd 14-1154, g Z Gfaaayg cs! of XQC4 99925 W . pilpfv ul le. Awe C' 1 ayqt CARA SMITH Smitty . Cotton candy Creative, spiriteel, claiiity, eiilertaiiiiiig Provokes gales of laughter by her humorous roles in Dramatic Club presentations Loves Wild life and befriends little lost or abandoned animals Y Has delighted us with original contributions to our school publications V Xb Q lb J l -O mil fill 'Goof 0? el if 'W ,ig f ,qi We M ff ag i N H , f 61 ,V , xv if it aged' ll MARY STECHER ' Eifla Animated, witty, logical, captivating, loyal Cherished by all for her pep and vitality Manages the complicated finances of the Order of Willing Service admirably V Interested in science y Aspires to write a book about her family MARILYN SWEENEY Sween Godfrey Entertaining, helpful, realistic, generous, well-inforineel Has won all with her unconscious humor Attained position as goalie on the AllfCleveland hockey team Has contributed generously to the Spec Board, the Review, and the Dramatic Club Would make an excellent journalist ELIZABETH ANN STEPHENS Dibbie Daffodil Unclerstancling, eliarrning, elainly, poised, pastel Ideal Carnival flower girl Sympathetic friend and popular girl about town Valuable addition to all serious and social activities Fair and graceful attendant in the May Queen's court MARIAN WATT Marian Kitten Gentle, kind, ingennons, graceful A p Bakes an excellent batch of cookies! Makes any gathering agreeable with her pleasant disposition Appreciates fine music and art U .vnu 'xx V . .X R p X X Y 1 LX ' X. X XX I Q .. N. 'fr ,-,. svn w' , i F17 N M 'ly NANCY VEACH Q Veachie Cello Reserved, talented, pensive, sensitive Dramatic stage personality and resonant speaking voice . a ' Fluid dancer and lyrical singer Memorable Grand lnquisitor and potential authoress l l I 'Q 4 1 ALICE WICK Alice Angora I . . . p Gmeeful, shy, generous, pleased, eonsezentwus Chosen as representative on the Athletic Council I Skillful on the hockey field and the basketball court Asset to the school with her air of distinction and , quiet charm L 1 fl I li ei ii 11 H li 1. ll - V MARILYN WHITNEY Whits Tiger lily Blithe, carefree, smiling, efferveseent Infectious giggle and cascade of dark wavy hair Accomplished dancer and pianist Ever friendly and cheerful nature I s JO MARY WILLIAMSCN Mary ' 'gLovely to Look At Gracious, clzarmfing, capable, blithe Renowned for her exceptionally attractive smile Contributes to the Clee Club and school offices Will always be surrounded by admirers JoANNE ZEVE Thumper Tact, sincerity, sweetness, loyalty, gentleness Admired as president of Raymond Hall Heard as Council representative proclaiming the -notices of the day Active participant in athletics, dramatics, and student government x Remembered for her winning charm Dm:-foto, Mui .5 UW 'iw' fgpwwyiifU?D,2wueM 6'-'M' Mmawssmww QMQI4-slw , y o fr I 4 I. I n 1 r, V f 1 Q, 5 .- yy . ,H . lt A, I 'M ' 'fl , l 4 5 e, 1 41 5x E L g T it gl E! wi 41 il 1 W if W l i 21 CLASSICS -1 1 I ? Poetry Prize Surely this is I, ' Sitting, quiet here before an open window. Surely this is I, For do not cool, moist fingers stroke my hair? Andican I -not hear the whispering sadness Of rainftouched grasses And the distant, longing cry of a passing train? And out in the living blackness do I not see The wet, white splash of a street light? All this is here, Breathing about me-and yet- I am not here. What sits still and loves this night is The -name, the body, the countenance, the thought. I am not these. Touching is not I, nor hearing, nor sight, But only a searching spirit that is made Cf a longing cry and a whispering sadness Now, far away, and forever. Eleicmoo' Munro, Class of '4 QA071' QU! 0 YQJIZLQZUH Raymond Short Story Prize USS black face was bright in the late, glaring sun. His body was tired, but his face beamed, glistening with the beads of sweat that slid down his forehead to his hot face and neck. His faded clothes clung damply to his body, collecting the dust which he scuffed up along the road. He was tired because he had worked hard all day, and he shuffled his feet along slowly. Fatigue showed in his stooped shoulders and in his slumped, black arms, resting in two worn pockets. But his eyes, whiter in the sun, gleamed from the blackness of his face with spirit, and his bright teeth sparkled with them as he sang: I got a robe, Yo' got a robe, All God's chillun got a robe. Gus's full song rose up on this hot afternoon as it had every afternoon for most of his life. He had worked as a hired man on a farm since he was a boy, scuffing back to the village every afternoon, sweaty and dusty with a song in his eyes and in his mouth. Gus had never tired of this life. When he watched things grow, he felt as if they grew inside him. He would look at small plants day by day and remark each new change. He had never ceased to wonder at this miracle. Since he could have no farm of his own, Gus grew a tiny garden behind his shanty in the small village, and he worked hard at this garden. He was very proud to be able to grow plants in his own soil. Because he was always so busy in his garden, he saw little of his neighbors, and he was never asked to join them. Once, a long time before, they had asked Gus to go to the church which everyone else in the community attended without fail. 'Gus's answer had stunned them. I reckon I'd better stay to home today. If I don' get to weedin' my garden, it'll die fo' sho'! Thereafter the people had shaken their heads and left him alone. They said it was up to the Reverend Brown to save Augustus and to see that he came to church. But Gus did not go to church. He stayed in his garden with the plants and the earth that he knew, and he worked and sweatedin the sun that made his eyes and teeth gleam when he grinned and sang in its bright blaze, as he was doing now. I got a robe, Yo' got a robe, All God's chillun got a robe. V The sound of Gus's slow, rich voice rang through the hot stillness of the dusty village like a bell heard by everyone. To some it had rung the time of day for years, and from time to time many calls had drifted into the road. Here come ole Gus. Mos' time now to start the cookin'. Though his song and spirit, however, could not pass by unnoticed, his waves and nods were often unanswered. Many of those who happened to see him shook their heads again and looked away. Whenever Gus saw a figure rocking on a porch behind a lazily fluttering fan, he smiled and waved, or, if he saw an infrequent stroller on the dusty road, he nodded. For many years he had come up the road as he did today, and for those many years he had received few greetings in return. Gus was not bothered by the unreturned waves and nods because he was too full of his song or his thoughts. It had once come to his mind that perhaps if he went to .church when his neighbors asked him, they might respond to his greetings. Yet Gus found so much in his garden that he did not go to church. .He was, therefore, ignored as he passed slowly by each hot little house singing deeply: ' I got a crown, Yo' got a crown, All God's chillun got a crown. Gus's song suddenly broke into a sharp cough as he found himself enveloped in a rising cloud of dust and a noisy discord of screeches. For a while he could only stand there rubbing his eyes. When he looked down finally, he saw a chaos of fluttering, cackling chickens that stretched their necks in all directions, looking out wildly and seeing nothing. Gus had to laugh. Chickens were certainly the funniest creatures! Shoo! Get on back the'! Get on back to yo' yard! It's funny how you chickens up 'n' run anywhe' jus' cuz all de others do. Yo' jus' run 'n' run so excited 'n' yo' don' know at all whe' to. Den eben when yo' get whe, yo' goin', yo' don' know whe' it is, cuz de's so much dust stirred up by de others! Why don' yo' take yo' time, 'n' now 'n' den go by yo'self, so yo' can know jus' whe' yo' are? The chickens had excited Gus, and he laughed once again, but he also thought about them. , He stood up and burst once more into song. a I got a crown, Yo' got a crown, i All God's chillun got a crown. Before long, the sound of Gus's loud voice brought a shaggy dog bounding forth from one of the dusty houses. The dog jumped along play' fully at Gusfs heels, and Gus stooped down to pet it. He brushed the matted hair from its eyes and grinned. 'i'Lo de', fellah. Pretty hot out fo' dogs, ain' it? Come here, 'n' lemme give dat paw o' yo's a look. Looks pretty good, don' it? It's mos' good as new by now. Weren't mo' dan three weeks ago I pull yo' out o dat field. Sho' is wonderful how some things heals so fas'. I guess it's pretty wonderful how things heals at all. De's lots o' things he' on dis earth dat's mighty swell, ain' de'? ' Gus smiled at the log, who barked at his kind face. Gus was glad to have helped such a good dog. He gave the dog a playful pat and stood up. Yo' go 'long now. Yo' marse's callin' you'. Gus grinned after the dog and went on his way singing. I got a song, Yo' got a song, All God's chillun got a song. Gus hadn't sung much further when he was stopped by two grin' ning pickaninnies who darted up behind him and tugged at his legs. He grinned down and boosted one to each shoulder, laughing anew at their squeals of delight. In their lofty places they jogged along, viewing the world from great heights with wide, excited eyes. As he walked, Gus looked up at them and spoke. What de world look like from up de'? Mighty huge, ain' it? It's eben bigger dan what it seems up de', though. Mus' be awful big! Don' everything look good from up de'? Yo' can see mos' all 'roun. Some day maybe yo' grow up like me, 'n' stead o' being so close to de groun' yo' can see what I sees up he'. A The kinky heads slid down, one on each arm, and bobbed at his knees. Gus stood up straighter than he had before because he felt taller. Yo' better run 'long fo' yo' ma ketches yo'. Gus was still grinning when he turned around and when he walked on, singing even louder: I got a song, Yo' got a song, All God's chillun got a song. Enveloped as always in song, Gus ambled down the hot road, waving, nodding, and grinning. He passed house after house, alike in shabbiness and extreme heat, and he passed the trees, the fields, and the dusty bushes he had known for so long. A little way beyond the middle of the village he passed the wellfknown house of Reverend Brown, who, on this par' ticular afternoon, was sitting on his shabby porch. Not infrequently Gus had been stopped on his daily walk by the Reverend, who, of course, had his duty to perform. Gus's wave was, therefore, followed by a low hail which halted his song momentarily. 'Lo, 'Gustus If yo' got a moment, I'd like to talk with yo'. Gus walked up to where the Reverend rocked on the porch, his head reclining in the dark shade, but his feet resting in the sun. Gusvcould barely distinguish his dark face, but he could see the white eyes which stared so firmly at him. Sho' I got a minute, Rev'ren'. Feel mighty good to res' fo' a while. Gus leaned against a post. 'Gustus, the's a church meetin' tonight. Ain' it about time yo' was comin' to church? We thinks it's mighty bad dat yo' don' come. Gus was silent as he thought about the hot sun and about his garden. 'Gustus, yo' ain' gettin' younger in yo' years, 'n' yo' got to go to church. Yo got to go to church like everyone else go to church. Yo' can' know 'bout life or nothin' les' yo' go 'n' pray like we does. H Gus was thinking of the funny chickens and did not answer. 'Gustus, if yo' don' go to church, yo' can' ask to be saved. It'll be too late some day, 'n' den no one can he'p yo'.i Don' yo' see, lGustus, dat yo' got to ask to be made kind 'n' 'preciatin'? Again Gus did not answer. His face softened as he recalled the shaggy dog. 'Gustus, if yo' come to church, yo' could be made to love. Yo' could ask de Lord to open yo' eyes so as yo' could see mo'. Gus smiled at two pickaninnies grinning in the dust. L' 'Gustus, religion need de church! Yo' got to come to church to meet de Lord! Gus's eyes narrowed for a moment in thought, and then his black face smiled. He thought of the seed, of the soil, and of the sung and a rich song ran through his mind. I think maybe I'd better stay home dis evenin'. My las' batch o' beans is jus' right fo' pickin'. I reckon, Rev'ren'-well, I reckon I jus' ain' got no religion. Mary Hancock, Class of '40 The UQ? Jlfam Soaring higher, ever higher On wings of polished steel, M.anfmade wings, built of America's might, Higher and still higher he goes. Down belowthe tiny, toylike villages bustle in their insignificant way, While up above he soars still higher, Leaving behind all earthly things, Until he rises up above the clouds, and With the land below thus observed, Lives only in his thoughts and in his heart, Feels the splendid freedom of his soul, Feels God around him, sees Him there. v Mary Ladds, Class of '40 0726 Honorable M eution Upon a human face I gazed And saw reflected there A hundred fleeting emotions, Bred of centuries of struggle, dread, and fear. And yet there was love. It was in the eyes, It lay in their crystal clearness, Their sombre depths. It touched a gentle finger to the brow And smoothed away a frown. It stood sweet and calm upon the mouth, Softening and curving up the lips. And in flushed cheeks its living presence lay, Singing a silent song. Nancy Cooney, Class of '45 PWQUZUM Through the cool, lush gardens, Past the iron gate, Into your great white mansion I have come. You smile, scorning my ragged clothes, My empty hands. Something for me? you say. It cannot be. I see nothing. Your face reflects the blindness of long years, And you depart, Knowing not whatis K The substance and the spirit of my being. Standing amidst the ruins of her home, The starving war child grasps my naked hand, Smiles, And gives me half her crust. She sits astride my knee, Eyes questioning, Lips apart. .She looks into my eyes and sees The substance and the spirit of my being. . N cmcy Cbmey, Class of '45 The H oinomble Mention A I-IE was the ugliest child I had ever seen with her bony, frail face and pale hair that was grey along the part from the soot of the city. She sat apart from the other children, as if her ugliness placed her in a different world from theirs, and kept her eyes fastened on her hands twisted in the lap of her faded dress. The other children bounced about in the bus, a bit selffconsciously at first, and somehow, I couldn't find the heart to tell them to sit still. You see, each year the social leaders of our community choose certain poor children from the slum districts who they think would benefit by a week in the country. I knew how short that week would seem to those boys and girls riding with me. Now, as we left the city limits, I felt that they must be forcing mem' ories of dirty flats and shabby families into corners of their minds, for faces lost their tense expressions, and they began to squeak happily. I thought how fortunate it was that children can forget unpleasantness and ugliness so quickly and enjoy goodness, though they know it may last only a short time. The word ugliness caused my mind to jump back to the little girl sit' ting alone, a-nd I scrambled over scuffed knees and pushed in beside her. Well, hello, I said cheerfully. She looked up, startled. Your name is Angie, isn't it ? I said, remembering the card filled in with her history that she had handed me at the door of the bus. Yes, Angie, Angie Roberts, she replied politely, but without smiling. My, what a nice name. I paused. You know, I think you're going to like the country. There are fields and streams and lots of places to play. And 1 Yes, thank you, I 'magine I will, she said and lapsed into silence. I I felt suddenly inarticulate, though there seemed to be no explanation for my feeling. We bounced along with the hum of the other children's voices and the engine of the bus buzzing in our ears. We were rapidly approaching our destination, and already the trees and white farms were beginning to take on the look of being freshly scrubbed with soap and water. Angie's face was turned toward the window of the bus, and suddenly she breathed in a hushed voice, Have you really got woods in the country? Ch, yes, with great trees, where you can play hide and seek and all kinds of games. My mom said in the woods you can find all the good things. For the first time she looked eagerly at me. Your mom was right. B-irds and flowers, and Miss Wagner, one of the camp directors, will teach you the names of them all and take you on nature walks. My words tumbled over one another. . 'lOh, she said, and it was as if all at once she had lost interest. Then we were turning into the orderly grounds of the camp, and the bus had wheezed to a stop. The children scattered like beads from a broken necklace and shouted gleefully to one another, as the open fields beckoned invitingly. I was watching them so intently that I failed to see Miss Wagner, until she stood beside me, speaking in a bustling voice. f They're all here safely. Oh, dear, they look so peaked, but by the end of the week they'll be so tanned we won't even recognize them. Then she caught sight of Angie standing quietly beside me. Her beaming smile lost its glow. I said, This is Angie Roberts. A Miss Wagner nodded, smiling weakly. What a nice little girl. Angie, I said hastily, why don't you run and play with the others? You know, you're supposed to have fun this week, and you may as well begin right now. I smiled understandingly, but Angie merely looked at me as if she did not know what I meant. I was beginning to wonder if she was not somewhat unresponsive. 'LI think I'd rather go walkingf she announced flatly. Her gaze wandered in the direction of the woods. . Well, all right, but not too far. You can't get lost, but I don't want you to be late for dinner. As Angie walked away, Miss Wagner's hand fluttered to her face. Uh, my dear, it's so pitiful. The poor child. As if poverty were not enough, to be handicapped by such ugliness as well must be unbearable! I felt a twi-nge of irritation at Miss Wagner's conversation. She was, however, one of the chief promoters of the camp, and her understanding and love for poor children were deeply sincere, or so she often intimated. We parted then to round up the children and organize them into groups. The rest of the afternoon ran smoothly. Yes, and the days that followed. The children drank in the fun and laughter of each minute as if they were draining a cup of fresh water. But, though I tried my best, Angie would not play with them. Perhaps it was their fault, for the girls would giggle beneath their hands when she passed them. Perhaps she was to blame, preferring to wander through the woods. I was surprised when after one of the many nature walks, Iviiss Wagner reported that Angie paid the least attention of all to her explanations. Miss Wagner sighed and shook her head sadly: I thought I might teach the child how to love nature, as she showed a liking for the woods at first, but she wasn't even listening when I was talking about the pink lady'sfslipper. At least the others showed some curiosity and asked questions, but Angie seemed to be miles away when 'I asked her what months the flower was in bloom. Oh, dear, I'm afraid she is hopeless. I was almost ready to agree when by the last day of camp the situation had not improved. Oh, Angie had acquired the same tan as the other chilf dren, but it merely emphasized her incongruous features. And every once in a while, a small frown furrowed her forehead. I had not noticed this habit when she had first come. At four o'clock we assembled the children in the yard. As we inf spected their spare belongings to see that nothing had been forgotten, Miss Wagner murmured to me, Don't they look grand? It's amazing what just a week can do for them, though it's a pity we can't keep them longerf' Her flushed face assumed a bewildered look. Yes, it's been a gratif fying week, except, of course, for Angie 1- a thoroughly uncofoperative child, I must say. 'LBy the way, I ventured, Where is Angie? Why, she was here a minute ago, and Miss Wagner sniffed disapf provingly, as she drew her finger slowly across the corner of her tight mouth, where lines were beginning to form. Yes, but sheseems to have disappeared now. A sturdy boy glanced up at me. 'gIf you're wonderin' where Angie went, I seen her a while ago. She was goin' toward the woods. I turned impatiently to Miss Wagner. 'Tll go. I think I know where to find her. Well, all right, but do hurry. My, some children haven't any sense in their heads at all. No consideration --. Her voice faded away as I stumbled down the path. I felt very much annoyed with Angie, though at the same time I was worried. I began to run, my blouse sticking to my skin from the heat. I fell across tree roots stretching like gnarledveins across my path. Branches scraped my face, and I asked myself what Angie found so bewitching in these woods. I stubbed my toe and fairly screeched, Angie, Angie! shattering the deep silence. And then I saw her bending over to one side of the trail. When she heard her name, she straightened quickly. What have you been doing? I said breathlessly. We've been wait' ing for you. Come on now, hurry! She stood looking down, one foot tracing a semicircle in the dirt. 'Tm sorry, she mumbled. 'Then I noticed that she held one hand cupped loosely over the other. What have you got? I asked suspiciously. She raised her head, and a wisp of that coarse hair fell across herieye. She pushed it carefully back in place as if stalling for time in order to conf sider what to say. She began haltingly, It's for my mom. I wanted to bring her something from the woods, 'cause she's never seen more trees than what we got scragglin' by our garbage pail. Angie opened her hands. The lines of her palms were creased with dirt and sweat, and in the center sat a small tree toad with bulging eyes. He was green with brovvnishfyellovv markings. Angie said softly, as she looked at the mottled coloring, It's sort of like the sun shinin' through the leaves and makin' gold specks on 'em. I'Ie's sort of - beautiful. She said the vvord as if she had never spoken it before, but there was a thoughtful curve to her mouth. I took the toad and held the ugly little creature in the flat of my hand. Just then a cool breeze stirred the leaves, and I saw that the late afternoon sun shone through and turned them to tarnished gold. Angie glanced at me apprehensively. 'LYes, beautiful, Angie, I said vvonderingly. L'Beautiful,l' but this time I was looking into her face. Barbara Needs, Cla-ss of '45 , The Cro!! Kneeling before the altar, I raised my head from prayer to Thee, and gazed upon Thy golden cross suffused with a holy light mellowed by the ages. -Its soft, ethereal rays flooded my heart with warmth, Hope, consolation, and love. Hovv many countless thousands have received Thy blessings, Lifting their souls from despair and desolation To untold heights of joy, and bringing the stars and the moon to earth! ' Through Thee the greatest books are written, The greatest music composed. Through Thee the greatest deeds are done. In need and fear how many have bathed in Thy strength and warmth, Learning the true meaning of Thy love! The mighty and the humble, the rich and the poor receive Thee alike, Gratefully accepting Thy blessings. p Again in tragic years, with all the world, I turn to Thee. Katherine Gray, Class of ,45 eff Friend H oinomb le M entiion IMMY CONNORS lay on his hard, iron bed, staring at the cracked ceiling-a rectangualr section of dirty plaster on which he had gazed for so long that he almost knew it by heart. There were ten holes across and six down in that register over the window, and right above his head was a weirdflooki-ng spot where the paint had been stripped off. He knew that cold ceiling so very well. The sharp voices of the other boys sud' denly hammered at his ears, and he tried in vain to shut out Tim Brenner's harsh voice, making fun of him-and his foot. jimmy was only eleven and didn't understand what was wrong with his foot, but it wasn't hard to see that it was twisted inward in a funny way and didn't look like anybody else's. Every time he looked at it he felt a queer, cold sensation deep in his stomach. If only he could play baseball with the others then he'd show them all that Jimmy Connors was as good as anybody else, but something inside whispered, You're not, jimmy. You're not like anybody else. The room had become quiet as the boys, tired by school and exciting games, fell quickly asleep. The helpless boy, alone in the large, stone orphange, sobbed quietly into his thin pillow. Next morning the faint sun feebly attempted to send its messengers of daylight through the chill air into the windows of the cold, gray build' ing. As Jimmy limped down the stairs to breakfast, he tried to talk to the two boys next to him, but they were busily engaged in an excited conversation concerning the big baseball game that afternoon, and each was vociferously stating why he should be pitcher and not just another fielder. He turned away once more and started for his place at the long table. If only - but no! For him the day at school seemed endless, but not because of the approaching baseball game, which was anticipated with wild excitement by the others. As he walked awkwardly down the large hall, his lonely eyes could see little knots of boys feverishly urging one another on, but some peculiar, invisible force stayed his faltering step, and he knew that there were already enough boys in each small huddle. lnto these thoughts suddenly came a voice which for a moment made the boy's heart vibrate with boundless joy: Hey, there, ya comin, to the game this afternoon and see us really wallop those fellas? Then, as if the speaker had instantly realized that this boy was Jimmy Connors: 'iOh, I suppose you won't be there, huh? Everything once more grew clouded and dark within him. 'iNo, l guess I won't be there - not tonightfl 'That afternoon as a small crowd gathered about the square, grass' tufted field, a lone boy was limping back to a gray building, the only home he had ever known. just as he was entering the yard between the massive iron gates, he imagined he heard a pained whimper from the soft grass near a clump of bushes to his right. He paused, then began to move quietly toward the sound. Gently drawing back a branch of the shrub, he gazed down upon a limp ball of darkness, breathing quickly and from time to time emitting a small, plaintive cry. A puppy! Jimmy gently leaned down to pick it up, but as he touched its paw, the dog started with pain. It had been struck by a car, had managed to limp to the curb, but bef cause of its torn and bleeding paw, it had been able to go no farther. Its soft, brown eyes looked wistfully up at the boy, pleading for the help and comfort which human hands could bring. Their prayer was not unanswered, for the boy, with no thought of the rules of the orphanage, instantly lifted the trusting puppy in gentle hands and carried it to the side of the building where a projection of masonry offered a little prof tection from the weather. Guided by a strange, instinctive sense, the boy, awkwardly squatting beside the dog, deftly wiped the wounded paw and wrapped his handkerchief about it. Radiant love and sympathetic under' standing diffused from the boy's eyes, and enveloping the small animal, created a strong bond between the two. Never, Iimmy thought, could they be separated. Never. As he lay in his bed once more that night, it no longer was hard and cold, but seemed almost like heaven itself. He had a puppy now -- a friend - a friend who knew and liked him, He knew that now some' body needed him, trusted him, and he knew that he wanted to help. But was the puppy all right? It was getting cold again, and he might not be warm enough in that box, Maybe the handkerchief had slipped off. Iimmy knew that he must get out of that room somehow to see that nothing was wrong. He had never dared leave at night before, and he knew that he would be punished if they found out. Yet he was going. That he knew. There was no fear in his heart as he crept silently through the dark halls and down the blackened stairway, for the bond of love was guiding and protecting him. As he reached the porch and peered anxiously over the edge of the box which he had constructed as a temporary shelter, he was met by a friendly wag of the dog's tail, and its wet tongue licked happily about the boy's fingers. There was no need to worry. Everything was all right, and it was always going to be. The darkness lifted as the brightffaced moon slowly rose upon two small figures-a smiling boy with his dog. ' 'On his way to school the next morning, Jimmy was not alone, for the dog's foot was healed enough so that it could follow at a rather slow rate. The boy was tenderly proud of his new friend, and when several of his classmates began to look at the puppy and play with it, words came easily to the boy and he found himself talking and laughing freely with the others. During recess in the morning, when his class usually went out' doors to play baseball or some other equally active game, jimmy joyfully went with the others, and with the puppy, who had faithfully awaited him, he watched the game with his face lit by an -eager flush of excitement. Near the end of recess, a small girl walked shyly toward him and began to pet the dogand play with him gently. I-le's awfully cute, isn't he? the girl said timidly as she looked up. Where'd you get him? 'Tve hadhim since yesterday, was the answer. He's my dog. As he said this the bell rang out, calling them back into the school building. jimmy, pausing just long enough to say goodfbye to thepuppy, walked into the school side by side with the girl. A Arithmetic was his next subject-a subject in which he had never done well because somehow he had always felt frightened when called on, as if everyone would, laugh when he gave a wrong answer. As they opened their books and the teacher began to call for the answers to the problems, Jimmy no longer, felt afraid. Now he had some friends, and they would not laugh. That night as the evening sun with its crimson fingers colored the large building in varying shades and hues before the dark night could destroy its handiwork, Jimmy, in quiet happiness, was finishing supper with the rest of the children. Upon leaving the dining room, he was met by one of the older boys, who told him that the superintendent wished to see him in his room in a halffhour. While the young boy wondered what this message could mean, the superintendent sat at his desk, conferring with a large, matronly woman who assisted him in the management of the orphanage. He certainly has shown a definite improvement in the last few days, Mr. Stone, remarked the woman. He seems to be talking more to the others, and Miss Clark, his teacher-she has always paid close attention to our children, you know-just phoned that he has been doing conf siderably better in schoolf, 'LWe are to be congratulated, I believe, replied the other. 0ur plans have worked splendidly, and I am sure he will soon add much more to our life here. lt is only unfortunate that .... The conversation was here interrupted by a knock on the door, and jimmy entered. Did you want to see me, Mr. Stone? he asked with less fear in his voice than usual. 'LYes, jimmy, replied the superintendent. To the small boy he seemed tall and strong, but not likable. We have been very much pleased to see that you are making friends here, but one thing has troubled us. The gardener has reported that a young dog has been disturbing him and that it seems to be with you often. ls this true? Yes, said Jimmy, with a sudden sense of fear and sickness rising in his stomach. You see .... 'i Needless to say, Mr. S-tone continued, we can have no dog here, and we have turned it over to the proper people. Jimmy, we're sure you can see that a dog is very dirty and can only bring you harm. That's all. You may go now. Remember it is all for your own good, and we don't like to see anything hinder your recent improvement. jimmy's feet turned slowly and carried him out of the room, where the two adults were smiling with satisfaction at a task well done. He could see nothing as he slowly and awkwardly limped up the stairs. His dog - his own puppy-gone --gone forever. Reaching his room, he threw himself on his bed, and the helpless boy, alone in the large stone orphange, sobbed quietly into his pillow. Barham Bates, Class of '45 ,Solifzzde The fragrant needlefbed, Piled deep beneath my feet by years of wind, ,Shuffled and rustled through the tall, silent trees. I stopped. And through a window in the forest gloom, The low, still moon shone brightly, her splendor Holding me in willing slavery. Upon a mossy log, Green with ages past, I sat in silent awe. ' As in a dream, I reached my hand to touch the moon. Her round, metallic brilliance was smooth Beneath my finger tips. All nature closed around me. Below me lay the tranquil lake, shimmering and silvery With myriads of ever moving diamonds Spread out on slender shreds of moonlit gauze. Moved by the balmy wind, the small pine trees Nodded, bowed, and whispered like slender maidens. The stars, caught in lacy branches, flickered there, Elfin lanterns hung to light the sky. Across the bay the lonely loon shattered the silence With his shrill and wailing cry. And there, beneath the hush of starlit night, I looked upon the countenance of God. Charlotte M efnk, Class of '45 The Will To ive. p THE BELLS had screamed their warning cries. The roaring engines turned over slowly once or twice and then were quiet. The huge ship lay silently waiting, waiting in the thick, foggy night, waiting while some' where out there in the black, black water, a submarine, like a lone wolf strayed from its pack, watched her with evil eyes: Far, below the decks in the sweltering engine room we stood, listening for some sound to break the awful silence. Saying not a word, moving not a muscle, we waited. Each heart beat wildly, each grimy face was white with panic. I could feel the sleek, black enemy coming closer, closer, closer, watching us all the time with wicked eyes. Then suddenly there was a violent explosion! Shrieks of agony and terror pierced the din! Blue, white, and yellow flames flashed around me. I grabbed for something to hold on to, but was thrown to the deck. My arm was crushed beneath me. Like a dry twig the bone snapped, and I felt agonizing pain shoot through my body like a bolt of lightning. With a thundering crack the huge pipe above me crashed to the deck. Then an immense wave of water leapt onto me like a hungry tiger set loose from its cage. Wildly I struggled to get loose from the pipe. The water was choking me. I could not breathe! With all my strength I tore myself free, ripping the flesh off my ankle down to the bone. I fought to the surface and gasped for air. The icy water bit my raw leg. I had to get to the ladder somehow. I had to get out! Another wave beat me against the wall. It crushed my broken arm. I bit my lip to bear the pain. I clutched a railing with my good arm as the furious waves swept me by. I was weak and was in excruciating agony. But nothing mattered except that ladder. I must get to it. The waves tried to pull me loose from my grip. My head was spinning. I dragged myself along the railing toward the ladder. Then suddenly I felt a clammy hand dragging on my leg. I saw a man, one of my friends, one of my own friends. I could hardly recognize him, for the side of his face had been blown off! He moaned, and I grabbed for him, but his fingers relaxed. Giving one last groan of agony, he sank into the black water. Panicfstrickeln, I reached for him. But it was too late, he was gone. I could not think, I could not control my will. In my brain swirled the confused sight of blinding flames, gigantic waves, my friend with only half a face, but above all the ladder., In that narrow iron structure lay all hope of life for me. I know not how nor when, but finally I found myself before it, clutching it with my hand. Ch! to get out of that hell of pain and icy water! I dragged myself up, up until at last I came to the hatch. If I could only get it open! I leaned my weight against it. With all the strength that was left in my aching body, I shoved and pushed. There was no hope. I could not open it. I called for help, no answer came. Then sudenly I heard two voices. I called again and they heard. I could hear them trying to get the hatch open, first with their hands and then with axes. At last! .At last! They broke through, and I could see their faces. Then suddenly the whole world went black. When I awoke, all was quiet. I must be deadll' I thought. No, there was the aching in my arm and there was the pain in my ankle, but I was dry! Yes, I was dry, dry and alive. For some unknown reason God had taken pity on me and on my ship. Yes, she had fought bravely, more bravely than I, and she too lived. For awhile she had almost died, but now she and I were on our way home, home to America. Betsy Augustus, Class of '46 lQA77Z67'Z.66l7Z ufufumn The smell of burning leaves is in the air Carried by cool and biting autumn winds, Thin wisps of smoke curl upward in the sky And fade against the paling golden sun. 'Round the barnyard fat, proud turkeys crowd, Thrusting back their heads in angry pride, Strutting on the burnished copper leaves Fallen from the maples overhead. Fat and round, with .green and orange hues, In the fields the ripened pumpkins sit. Lonely crows and swallows dart and dive, -Shadows on a curtain of blue sky. Gay chrysanthemums rustle in the wind, Now nod, now bow on stalks of grayishfgreen. The glossy apples are piled high beneath the trees, With round, ripe grapes as purple as their wine. This is autumn, the season of farewells, When summer's gone yet winter's not begun. This is America, fertile and proud, Glorious in autumn like no other land. N aucy Cbmey, Class of '45 7711561 T WAS Christmas Eve. A magical hush of expectancy filled the darkf ened living room in such a way that even the andirons on the hearth seemed to await an event. In a corner of the room stood a great tree, visible by the radiance of its own electric lights, which shown on the glittering trinkets that trimmed it, making it a tower of beauty and mystery. Suddenly the brass clock on the mantel shelf shattered the silence with a resounding chime of its bell. Hardly had the echoes died when another followed, and still another, until twelve had passed. Then a scarcely notice' able tremor shook the tree in the corner, causing the silver icicles to tremble and the shining baubles to swing gently by their slender threads. A particularly large and gailyfpainted one whispered softly to his round green neighbor. I-Iow goes it with you, friend? As usual, as usual. But what particular difference can it make to you?', He was plainly irritated. No offense, said the gay one gently, only I thought- I don't care what you thought. Now please don't bother me. The green ornament shook with annoyance. The gaudy one smiled and sighed, but it did not try again. A tiny silver bell stirred and tinkled gaily, s'Don't mind Green over there. I'Ie's brooding! And she laughed softly. But I can't say I blame him. Qur fate is not a pleasant one, to be sure. We are hidden away in a dark box and forgotten, allowed to see the light of day for a fortnight every year, only to be hung dangerously at the very tip of a branch, which is risky, to say the least. If we escape breakf age, we are repacked and stored away again, disregarded for another year. No, you can't blame the Green Utne. Nor am I blaming him, rejoined the painted ornament, 'ibut I think he might be cheered. A gloomy Christmas decoration is surely an inconf gruity. I remain content because I believe that I, together with all created things, am destined for a purpose. In my case, it is to be an ornament, and nothing more-an utterly useless thing, though lovely and shining, who lives a life of alternate danger and boredom, but who may as well accept that and then forget it. Why not rejoice in being beautiful? It should be considered an honor. To be cherished and put away with great care and then brought forth to contribute to the beauty of a sacred and beloved festival--what could be more gratifying? LL LL LG Silver rain swayed to and fro, whispering in voices scarcely audible, ilYes, yes, he is right- the painted one is right. I-Iow wise he is! The green ornament tendered his opinion briefly, expressively, and characteristically. Hmph! he said. A small red bauble, who had been listening to the conversation, broke the ensuing silence in a bitter tone. Oh, it's fine for you, my painted friend. You are as old as the hills and a foreigner as well. Certainly, you're cherished! Of course, you're handled lovingly! You came across the ocean about fifty years ago! You should have nothing to complain of - but we! We are nothing! If we break, we can be replaced without any trouble in the least!'l I-Ie stopped, his flow of indignation exhausted, and subsided with a shiver that shook the branch from which he hung. The painted glass ornament remained calm. !'My friend, he said, it is true that I am old. My chipped paint is a constant reminder of my years. I am older than any of you, and I come from another land, a peaceful one. My country is not so rich as this one, but I was happy there, for it was home. I was not treasured then, for I was one of millions. Here I am unique, and I admit, I fare better than you. But I am also only an ornament. My life is as dangerous as yours and as uneventful, for I have nothing more to call my own than you, save memories, and they are like filmy cobwebs or seaffoam, precious and beauf tiful, yet worthless. Again the silver rain stirred and rustled, How wise he is, how much he knows! The gilt star at the top of the tree-interrupted with jealousy, Why listen to him down there? I'Ie's growing older and crazier every day, and his mind's wandering. If you want sensible advice, ask me. I'm not so old as the rest of you, but I hold an important position that demands respect. And do I get it? Uh, no. You listen constantly to that ancient foreigner. I symbolize the Star that led the way! 'Do you realize that the- tree would have no meaning if I weren't here? You should be ashamed of ignoring me! I 2 I , The ornaments did not answer him, for they knew that he would accept no apologies, and a heated argument was distasteful to all. They also knew that the star deserved neither respect nor attention, for he was vain and shallow, a crude character elevated to a high position and trying vainly to fill it gracefully. Many of them loved the large, painted, foreign one, for he knew much and understood all. The tree stood in strained silence for a short time, while each decoration tried to think of something to say that would break it. . Ouch! You tickled me! A small, round, silver ball near the top of the tree shrieked in a high adolescent voice. MI did not! I'm not even near you! How could I tickle you? This from another ball, slightly higher than the first, and bright blue. You did! I felt it! I-Iow dare you! The two ornaments continued their bickering until a deep, deep voice rumbled NSILENCEV' from the heart of the tree, shaking its branches and again causing all the trimmings to tremble violently. The little ones subsided quickly, for the tree was thoroughly incensed. All the others held their peace as well, and quiet reigned again. Through the doorway, from the front hall glided a kitten. She seemed not to take steps at all, but moved with the effortlessness of a wave, making no sound. Her falsely innocent eyes were wide and glowing. She stopped in the center of the room and yawned, her tiny pink tongue curled in ecstasy, and she stretched her lithe body to twice its former length. Then she relaxed, shaking her head vigorously. .She surveyed the tree, her head moving in quick little jerks, and walked over to it, sniffing delicately. Her tail vibrated with excitement as she divined the nature of the shimmering tower. I A large, gailyfpainted, glass ornament, its chipped surface denoting age, hung invitingly near. The kitten raised a tentative paw and daintily tapped it, tilti-ng her head questioningly. The old ornament fell, and with a tinkling crash shivered into fragments on the polished floor. Anne Loesser, Class of '48 Tfdlm Heavenly Father and Almighty God, Hear Thy people, as we plead to Thee for help and forgiveness. Help us to drive out the wickedness in us and cast the devil from us, For Thou art strong, and we are weak, We yield to temptations and cannot restrain ourselves from committing sins. We fight amongst one another and persecute one another. p We are like lost sheep wandering in the darkness, looking for our Master to lead us into light. We humble ourselves before Thee and ask Thee for forgiveness. We want Thy holy spirit to rest in us, We beseech Thee for help. Hear us, Almighty God, as we plead to Thee for mercy. We are wicked, and Thou art pure, Cleanse us and wash us that we may be whiter than snow. Bless us and forgive us. Help us to help others and guide us to the path that leads to Thee. We are like the thunderstorms that bring forth darkness, And Thou art like the sunshine that bringeth forth light. Forgive us, oh Heavenly Father. We know we are wicked, but we come before Thee now, hoping Thou wilt take us in Thine outstretched arms. Jayne Bills, Class of '48 cUe'rmz'lz'0fz Fhrafvher AUTIQUSLY I picked my precarious way along the rocky wash. On either side, huge, jagged cliffs rose high, high above my head. It was as though I were penetrating one of the earth's cracks in search of hidden wealth. No shady tree, no flowing stream, only an infrequent cactus spread its thorny branches to the glaring winter sun. Dry as the sand from which it sprang, it seemed as lifeless as the rocks themselves, but these strong plants live more years than any man. Qyerhead the sky was that entrancing blue, peculiar to the West. The beauty of that blue enchanted me! The ocean as it laps the shores at Monterey, is a wondrous blue, the blue reflected in the Morning Glory Pool is blinding to the eye, but the sky that day was bluer still and reached to eternity. Not a gust of wind stirred, all was quiet in this lonesome spot. P Suddenly a red rocket pierced the sky! Dazzled at this brilliant red against the blue sky, I stood spellbound, wondering what this strange thing could be. But before I could catch my breath, it soared down again, cutting a steep path through the blue as a clear lyric note broke the silence. Nearer and nearer, on it glided, down into my narrow canyon and came to rest upon a rocky ledge. How I wanted to reach out my hand to touch this little fellow, for I recognized the vermilion fly catcher! I feared the rapid beating of my heart would scare away this tmy creature. It was so small against the overwhelming vastness of the place! No bird that I had ever seen could reach the heights or attain the speed that he had shown. Where could he find a spot to nest in this barren land? Where could he find water and a safe retreat? Our bluebirds and our robins nest in shady trees with berries, and drink from sparkling brooks near at hand. How tame these birds seemed in comparison with this little savage! He must outdistance all these sheltered birds to hide his brilliance from a cruel pursuer, as no leafy foliage could be found. No easy life was his, yet I have never seen such joy expressed as in his glorious flight. Ever since that moment when hardship or loneliness has enveloped me, I have thought of the littleflycatcher, who overcame the barren desof lation of his haunts and filled them with his joyous spirit. A Cam Smith, Class of '45 Tap! The worst ' Sound of war is No sound at all, it is I Death's dread silence from a soldier's Buddy. . Q Joan Weber, Cla-ss of '47 Q' a L ...gf 4.3.1 3, ? A .1115 Q al 'W From God P17120 If UW Home W 'C ROM GCD, who is our home -a detached, relatively insignificant line of one of Wordsworth's poems, yet what a great, everlasting t uth the basis -of all existence, the origin of true living, lies in these six I' a small words, for from God, the creator of man and the spirit to whom man returns arises a small, anatomically nonfexistent, yet an infinitely vast and farfreaching spirit-the soul of man, a spirit created in His own image and existing as a part of Him. The human soul is indestructible and immortal, surviving any tan' gible forces of evil which may aspire to universal supremacy, and it is through his soul alone that man is enabled to exist in communion with the everlasting spirit of Beauty. His eyes may behold the loveliness of nature, his ears may detect the vibrations of music, his tactile senses may react to the gentle fingers, of a spring evening, but is is his soul, a living part of all that is immortal, which fully responds to this Beauty and becomes one with its spirit. Asa stiff fabric cover of a book, stamped with dull lines and letters, encases and keeps in concealment the profound, and Worldfinspiring ideas within, so the physical body of man conceals, an immortal spirit of vast, eternal power. Like the book, the body is subject to physical abuse or destruction, but the soul, Wherein lies man's only true and lasting greatness, is immortal, forever existing with the other spirits of the universe. Why, if it were not for the human soul, sensing the spirit of Liberty, the origin of which is immortal God, would our friends, the men of our families, be willing to give up their lives on behalf of their country? We have often been told that they are fighting and dying for a certain way of life, but is this sacrifice not often made in a certain realization of the spirit of Liberty and the spirit of Love which are of God? ls it not the soul of man, existing apart from his body and mind, which in communion with these universal spirits senses their presence and feels that to die is but to live eternally? It is the human soul that has nourished and ref newed the flames of hope in the conquered peoples throughout the world, Whose bodies and emotions have suffered unbelievable agonies and Whose minds have long been starved. Man's spirit can truly be called man's strength, his support, and his saviour. Not only in death or in tribulation is the soul of man supreme, for the principal purpose in life, the ultimate goal of Christian living, might be defined as the complete commuion of the human spirit with God, who is our home, for if man could be eternally bound to God by the invincible ties of immortal love, all forces of evil- greed, hate, destrucf tion-must forever perish. With this communion with the spirit of God and with the immortal spirits which have their origin in God as an individual's purpose in living, he must live a truly Christian life of love and forgiveness in which all the shadowy, fearful forces of evil must give way to the splendor and glory of golden day and the eternal countenance of the Sun. The formal rites of religion and the small differences between sepaf rate denominations have but little concern in the actual life of the indif vidual, for his soul's communion with God, with the spirit of Love and of Beauty, is that which is truly of supreme importance, and the slight differences in the method of worship are but a means for the individual to obtain his ultimate goal. Certainly a life close to nature and close to the works of God can unite man with his Creator, for Christianity is not the worship of a concrete image or of a lifeless statue, but it is a union with the Omnipotent- everlasting, invincible, bound by the firm ties of love everlasting. If this communion is to be the individual's ultimate goal, what mag' nificent and lasting results must arise if the actions of nations through' out the world could be exercised with the love and peace which this comf munion brings! Indeed, this spirit must, at some distant point in the wheels of time, be the basis for world peace, for has it not been made manifest altogether too frequently in our history that all forms of co' ercion and destruction as methods of making peace must fail? Hate can' not form the foundation of love, nor do force and destruction bring last' ing peace and contentment. The pathway to this peace is tortuous and difficult to follow, and it can be discovered only by a world composed of individuals, each of whom has by himself traveled that path. It is not a vain endeavor, but each member of the world's organization must strive within himself to reach that goal, to obtain eternal peace, and to journey up that road to Cod, who is our home. f Barbara Bates, Class of '45 The Teavork Hai I found a peacock hat one day, Up in the attic chest. Among the things of old it lay. I found a peacock hat one day. With silks and satins, a whole display, And mice had come to build their nest In the peacock hat I found one day Up in the attic chest. . ' Margery Stoaffer, Class of '47 ,ff f 1ifm11J f V , , , f s Wivw J L nk a' The Eager Weaver The Eager Beaver knew this well: In Spring disaster layg The year before the swelling floods ' Had washed his home away. He was a very thoughtful beastg ' For everyone he cared. ' , ' He knew that lazy Cousin joe Would never be prepared. That relative of mine, thought he, ls not so smart as l. l'd better go and warn him now To build his dam up high. So Eager Beaver travelled west With purpose well i-n mind, And soon he came to Cousin Ioe's. 'LDo not think me unkind, Said he, But look at that old damg ' It has an awful tiltf' Said Cousin Joe without a care, But that's the way it's built! Q But soon, said Eager Beaver then, g'The swirling floods will come, And if your dam's not straightened up, You'll not be left a crumb! You bother me, said Cousin joe. I like my dam askew. Let come what mayg if my home falls, l can always live with you! Disgusted Eager went back east. At least I will be dry, Thought he while building up his dam Till strong it was, and high. i 1 . I l r I l That spring the melting snows rushed down The streams, and by a quirk Cf fate, alas! a floating tree Smashed Eager Beaver's work! So now he lives with Cousin Joe, Whose dam is on the tilt, But he never says another word About the way it's built! Fir!! Snow Lucia Smith, Class of '46 The virgin stillness of the newfborn day, The yet unravished splendor of Cod's work, , Still lying quiet in His arms - The softened contours of the Earth, Newly wrapped in her ermine mantle- Whispering winds rustling through the branches That stand bowed, as if in prayer. Gray sky, cool, lofty as Cod Himself. And on the hillside, ruffled ripples of snow, His fingerprint upon the Earth. Deb! I carried the cross alone, Mary Lcbdds, Class of 345 To my own Calvary I did walk, And no man heeded my groan. I carried the cross alone. Sore aches shot through every bone, Hundreds passed me by, but none would talk. I carried the cross alone, To my own Calvary I did walk. N annoy Luckiesh, Class of '47 , af 3 I 93 if 7 sf Brief Heartbreak at Five I T the tender age of five I had my first bitter experience with group ostracism. It is to this very day a poignant recollection of my child' hood, for I was the innocent victim of the unbelievably inhuman cruelty of small children, who can unconsciously inflict deeper wounds than they perhaps realize. I think I must have felt that strange hurt penetrating my inexperienced heart for at least two weeks, but then in the fall I began kindergarten and was admitted to another coterie, probably equally cruel in the formation of its social-code. I could not understand or explain to myself the lonely, disturbing feeling I underwent during those two or three weeks of childish misery. W I was a freckled, awkward five, complete with sun suits and and skinned knees. Our family had moved into the neighborhood the pref ceding April, and, much to my unexpressed dismay, there were no chilf dren my age in the immediate vicinity, but there was an utterly fascinating, utterly desirable gang of children who were all very mature, eight at least. I cannot remember all their illustrious names, but three of the most out' standing of them I distinctly recall. There was Betty, who was angularly built and who unashamedly used me to suit her every purpose. I was so flattered to become -her esteemed friend that I could hardly stand the joy it brought me, and so I obligingly became her willing slave and constant shadow. There was Iohnny, and he was without a doubt extremely worthy of being worshipped. He was tough and sometimes annoyingly bossy. I-Ie was a man of the world, and Betty had an obvious crush on him. She was too embarrassed to go over to his house alone and consequently always took me with her. As soon as we arrived, she and Johnny always locked me in the garage, but curiously I never minded especially or caught on to the fact that if I refused to go to Johnny's with Betty, the degrading process would not be undergone time and time again. And most 'memorable of all, there was Alfred. He was exceedingly plump and sissyish, and he rode a bicycle, which seemed engulfed under his hugeness. I often wondered why this frail vehicle did not snap under his ponderous weight. I was too young to delve very deeply into people's characters, but I realized that Alfred was repulsive. I'Ie was one of the gang, however, and, miraculously, so was I! We had wonderful times together, and I worshipped the gang' with a deep, adoring awe. I was existing in a pink colored seventh heaven. I-Iow I could possibly have endured some of the crazy, annoying things they forced me to do seems amazing, but I was painfully proud and sure of myself for the first time in my short span of years. I had never had any really close friends before, and I was innocent of the facts governing children's friendships. I did not guess that there were jealousies, cruelties, or petty quarrels to offset the companionship I enjoyed. I knew no snobf bery, no social distinctions, no competition. Every day all that blissful summer Mother packed my lunch in a green and white tin box with a bent handle, and we all ate a nourishing and hasty picnic lunch in a beautiful grove of shady trees in Iohnny's back yard. It was truly the most secretive and utterly delightful place that could be imagined. The graceful willows with their slim, pointed fingers shielded us from heat and intruders alike. The fanciful play of gold and shadow patterned the dampish mossy ground on which we sat crossf legged to devour our lunch. I shall never forget the day that Mother would not let me go because I had been sneezing regularly all day, and johnny actually begged her to let me go. My heart swelled and burst with happy pride, and in the end, after much heated coaxing, I went. Every sunny afternoon we, or to be truthful, they, played thrilling baseball games. My part in the game was extremely important, I chased the balls! I am afraid we took a few liberties with the printed rules of base' ball, for when one player was out, he went and planted himself on a rusty, antiquated frying pan until somebody else was put out and came to relieve him of his disgrace. I was continually hovering around the vicinity of the illustrious frying pan, always on the alert to chase stray balls. All of my wonderful friends had guns, which made loud, melodramatic bangs, but did not actually commit murder. Therefore they inventeda truly terrifying game of cops and robbers, and, probably because of a certain lack of respect for law and justice, the robbers always murderously assassif nated the cops. Need I add that I was always the doomed cop, unarmed and unprotected on the ground., while they were the cruel robbers, armed to the teeth and hidden in the trees? I obligingly issued forth agonized screams and fell to the ground, clutching at my hip, where I thought my heart ought to be, while they shot at me mercilessly. This bloody game was sometimes played for hours on end. Thus the summer months whizzed by with cheerful rapidity until the fateful day which ended this pleasant association. One day we were all to gather in Betty's back yard, and Alfred and I chanced to arrive slightly late after all the others. As we crawled gingerly through the hedge, I was conscious of a small cluster of my friends whispering and giggling selffconsciously in one obscure corner of the garden. I think I felt a peculiar twinge of foreboding then. At any rate, Alfred and I were thoroughly ostracized from the gang on that sunny summer day. We were told in no uncertain terms to get out, to beat it, and then, to pile evil upon evil, we were shot at! We fled in profound terror before the realization of what was happeng actually dawned upon my bewildered mind. Barbara, squeaked Alfred suddenly, and I shall never forget this moment, will you walk home with me? I'm scared that johnny and the other guys will hide in the bushes and jump out at me. Indescribable disgust welled up in me, and I regretted to relate that aes.. . . ..., -1- --'----W e I quite deliberately heaved a clod of dirt at dear Alfred and then ran into the house. Iishall probably never know whether the boys were waiting in ambush to attack my fat friend, but I certainly hope so! I pondered for ages on the startling event which had occurred so unexpectedly as to leave me in deep bewilderment. I couldn't believe it! I was indescribably hurt but not yet resigned to my fate. I would go over to Betty's the next day, and then everything would be all right again. I was certain of this! I went to bed that night a little happier but still uncertain. The next morning I marched over to Betty's and summoned courage to ring the doorbell. Betty, herself, answered my feeble summons, and when she saw me standing there, she giggled and looked embarrassed. Do you want to come out and play?'l I: queried hopefully. k I'm sorry, she said, but I have to play croquet with my grandf mother. The alleged grandmother had not stirred from her bed for three years. Betty then shut the door quite unceremoniously in my face. Then I ran frantically over to Iohnny's, but was there greeted with a shower of gunshots. I fled home in anguish and locked myself in my room. It never occurred to me that they thought me too juvenile for their adult tastes. I only knew that they had liked me once, and I was crushed and bewildered by this sudden change of attitude. I cried a great deal and felt more and more puzzled. There was something inside of me which ached throbbingly. I was slowly becoming conscious of the civilized tor' tures devised by the juvenile social system. I moped for days and spent most of my time staring wistfully out of the window, watching endless, heartbreaking baseball games and wanting desperately to be a part of them once more. Great loneliness swept over my heart like a tidal wave, but only for a little while. I made new friends with the children my own age at kindergarten and was soon happy and carefree again, but I shall never forget my first experience with social ostracism. I was a trifle wary from then on, for I had learned something from this bitter experience. Barham Malin, Class of ,46 To Uulmn 0, Vulcan, Clympian blacksmith, Forge well young Cupid's darts, For we poor mortals need sadly More love in this world of hate. Beg Venus to give us more beauty 1 In this land that is shattered with strife. Entreat Mars to end this slaughter, And Vesta to keep fires bright. p Deborah Gcvrvefr, Class of '48 JW New I miss the fuoiee of wtwes- the jirst That woke my childish gleeg The measured ehimeg the lfhtmdefr burst. Where is my 0 pen blue sea? FELICIA HEMANS Y LOCKING back over my life I can see how the Navy has influf enced it. The Navy's lore, the Navy's ships, and the Navy's men have all played their parts. The Navy's lore seeped through me as I listened to my father talking to his fellow officers and Annapolis classmates. I remained undisturbed and inconspicuous through many lengthy discussions because I was thought too insignificant to understand. There I absorbed much of the traditional salty vocabulary, and I learned that their creed was: Let him who knows not how to pray go to sea. Their topics were realistic! These same men also respected certain superstitions of the sailors. They firmly believed that red skies at night are pure good luck, but the same skies in the morning are sinister. Becausekof these charmfbound sailors, I was not allowed to go on the Kezweahlv maiden rung females on a first run are said to ujinx the ship. I met the Navy's men first on the cruiser Raleigh. There one Christ' mas Day an old chief petty officer, dressed as Santa Claus, landed on the water in a sea plane, minus his reindeer and sleigh, and was piped over the side to distribute his packages. The men always love traditional things of home and each year strap a Christmas tree to the mast. They celebrate Thanksgiving and Navy Day with the same vigor. I saw the midshipmen being trained to command the ships while I lived at Annapolis. In Norfolk I saw the same officers train others for war. The individualism of each was eliminated, as the men were molded into a mass fighting unit. They marched, and slept, and worked, and ate together. They were interchangeable in their jobs to insure a perfect product of unity. I was mostimpressed by the ships of the Navy. My first voyage was from I-Ionolulu to -San Diego. In San Diego I can remember sitting high on the edge of the Pacific while the entire fleet passed intriumphal review below me. The second time I was in SanfDiego, I visited the Vallejo Navy Yard, where the ships of the fleet originate. In long .lines they stood, ranged in order from a laid keel to a seaworthy ship. As one vessel slid into the water, completed, another took her, place.. It was a maritimeassembly line. I fully learned to appreciate the sturdy structure ofthe ships when I explored the Kaweah from stem to stern while she was under construction i 'Z- '-4 Edgy- Bw-K .Q .1- fn QQ. -15 K' ffl? A in theq,Brooklyn Navy Yard. ln turn l visited Nefches, a tanker, the Henderson, a transport, and even a submarine, the S-28. Each was a complete living unit for the crew. All modern conveniences were at their disposal. Every ship was designed to fulfill her job and fitted into the mosaic pattern of the United States Fleet. A . One result of these varied experiences and associations has been the acquiring of a general knowledge. I have formed my own opinions of 'each section of the country in which I have lived. Though my formal education has been frequently interrupted, l have learned many lessons which visual education teaches. Learning hath gained most by those books which the printers have lost. The long absences from my father and friends taught me early that the good things of life are not permanent, and l have learned to accept the inevitable willingly. As a result of this peripatetic past, I am no longer contented with the tranquil existence of a landflubber, but long for the stimulating life of the Navy. Where is the sea -I languish here! Where is my own blue sea? With all barks of fleet career And flags and breezes free! M ary J 0 Swomston, Class of '46 The joy of Spring The joy of spring is in the air. Along with sounds of laughter gay Hear children's voices everywhere! There's rollerfskating on the square On every bright and sunny day. The joy of spring is in the air. The tiny tots climb in the pear. The small toy boats sail in the bay. ' Hear children's voices everywhere. A baseball game just over there With shouts and cheers is in full sway. T The joy of spring is in the air. And on the sidewalk squat a pair, For it is marbles that they play. Hear children's voices everywhere! ' Oh! See that child jump like a hare, For hopscotch is the game for May. The joy of spring is in the air. Hear children's voices everywhere! Marry Louise Newell, Class of '47 ,f 'HQ ,gli ., ,M Bdflifllfk Carrie ufdvenfure HE NIGHT was growing deeper, and the windflashed trees clutched wildly at his rainfsodden clothing as Sir Theron rode resolutely into the pernicious forest. A strange mist was rising from the marshy floor, bringing with it the stench of dead things, and the shivering horse paused in his hesitant gait from time to time as if sensing evils his master could not. The young knight fought off an almost overpowering fear and wearif ness as he gently urged his steed onward through fields of demons, leering from behind each distorted wyvernflike tree. Finally the eerie call of a wolffdog and a glimpse of a gray, forbidding citadel warned him that he was approaching his destination, Basilisk Castle. Cnce at the brink of the murky moat, he sent forth a call which echoed back from the grim walls, and a sudden longing shot through him to see the shining battlements of Camelot stretched out in a golden sun. No sooner had he announced his arrival than the drawbridge slowly lowered, and, as he crossed into the shadowy courtyard, the hollow beat of his horse's hoofs resounded from rampart to rampart, taking the aspect of ghostly, mocking laughter. i Then, after dismounting, he was led through a labyrinth of narrow corridors by a dry, wizened old man, carrying aloft a gnarled pine torch which sent shadows leaping and dancing along the walls, from whose crannies, it seemed, peered a multitude of hostile eyes. At length, a massive oaken door swung open, betraying a huge, gloomy room lighted by a single taper atop a majestic, carved desk, behind which sat Lord Marhans, master of Basilick Castle, a suave, dark man, almost as gaunt as the growling dogfcreature groveling at his feet. The lord rose, casting a weird shadow against the crimson arras, as his wellfkept hands toyed with the jewelfstudded hilt of his sword. Then he spoke in a haughty, scornful tone. So, at last we meet again, my nephew. What noble mission brings my dear, dead sister's son to my humble abode? Perhaps there is some service I can do you, he smirked, making a sweeping bow. But then, noticing the servant lurking near the threshold, he harshly ordered the cowering servile being back to his scullery, and the man fled as if lashed. The lad squared his shoulders, shook a lock of flaxen hair from his pale brow, and replied meekly, yet staunchly, You do me honor, Sir Uncle, but I fear my duty is an unpleasant one, for I was dispatched here by King Arthur to prove my worth as a knightnof the Round Table by ridding his realm of the evil which has been practiced in this castle. He has received word that you have held many wealthy land owners prisoner and tortured them until they turned over their estates to you. If you do not leave this country at once, I shall be forced to expel you. I ' T I Well spoken, returned Lord Marhans, You have inherited your father's straightforwardnessf' There was, however, a strange glint in his eye which Theron did not fail to perceive. . Because of the late hour, on the promise of further discussion the next day, Theron was shown to a tower bedchamber, where, shortly, as he was drifting off to sleep without even undressing, he was roused by a sudden beam of light darting into the room from a crack in the floor in a far corner. He sprang from bed, seized his sword and a candle, then plunged down the trap and along a narrow passage in hot pursuit of the prowler, the ancient servant. - Heavy cobwebs hung from the roof, and the paved floor echoed hollowly under the lightest tread. Here and there along the walls were spyfholes, concealed, on the other side, by the carving of the cornice. At length the corridor grew narrower and lower, the stairs continued to def scendg the walls on either hand became damp and slimy to the touch, and far in front of him he heard the squeaking and scuttling of the rats. Gccasionally he caught a glimpse of the old man hurrying ahead of him, and it burst upon his conscious mind that perhaps he was being led into an ambush, but he pushed on undauntedly. Finally he reached the end of the passage, obviously a trap door which seemed an impasse, until, searching at one corner, he found a deep cavity in the wall. Pushing his arm into the aperture, Theron felt an iron bar, which he thrust vigorously upwards. There followed a snapping noise, and the slab of stone started in its bed. After slipping through the opening, Theron saw naught of his quarry but became aware that he was in the dungeon, a dismal place reeking of the Death who hovered over the huddled forms chained in unbearable filth, eager to pounce. Assuring these living skeletons that he was their liberator, he learned that they, powerful, titled noblemen, were being held until their manors and personal riches became Lord M'arhan,s, and even then they were left to suffer like the damned with the keys to unlock their bonds, hanging high, just out of reach of their grasping hands. As soon as Theron had freed them, the little group climbed up to the court' yard, where Lord Marhans himself barred the way, sword in hand. Theron ordered the rescued over the drawbridge to proceed to Camelot, saying he would join them later, and without further ado fell to with his uncle, an adept with the sword. Therefore, he soon sustained a rather severe wound, and because the unstaunched blood poured forth and the pain was excruciating, he fainted. What happened in the next few minutes no one lived to tell, but when Theron awoke, he was lying on the opposite bank of the moat, whose waters swayed to the reflection of the flaming towers above it, for the castle was now a torch, held high to good and right. Above the raging inferno a shrill, haunting laugh rang out, and the aged gnome appeared on a blazing battlement, crying these words to the heavens: All is avenged! All is avenged! Suddenly the structure collapsed in a flames lapped hungrily at the ruins. shower of sparks, and the Patricia M. Kline, Class of '47 Timo Tod! In the darkening gloom of a city night He gropes, hands clutching vainly for Trembling lest the light be altogether substance, dimmed. In his soul rages a war of reason, instinct, love- tumult of deathly battle- , 'Swirling planets, dreams unrealized, lost ideals. A He knows pain at seeing pain, feels despair for greater griefs. He pauses, mind filled with confusion, fraught with questionings and halfftruths, Heart torn by the world's sorrows, crying for an answer, for justice, Until the very ground beneath his feet Heaves, and his heart fills with unfathomable fear. He feels himself sinking down, down, He stumbles blindly, reaches out his hands once more And doubts. ln the midst of a busy city square he stands ' While streaming sunlight floods the tarnished earth. A11 around he sees the tumult of the masses, Feels humanity's struggle deeply in his soul. Untouched, yet experiencing, he stands, Away from, and yet a part of all he sees, A human form, imperfect, violate, and Whose very weakness reassures. t He sees the shaft of shimmering golden That comes from parted clouds, frail, light P He feels the hope surge upward in his breast Q And here, at the altar ,of the world, feels deep submission. And in his mind, his heart, his soul is felt a strange peace, A knowledge. Mary Ladds, Class of '45 afar! or Eedlam 'M LYING here in the dark, while all over the city sane and sensible 5 I people are fast asleep. Yes, they're all dead to the world, but I'm as widefawake as a marigold, tossing and turning and twisting and squirm' ing my way into a most unusual variety of positions. Twining themselves about me gleefully, the covers bind me into fantastic, pretzelflike poses, while, after bunching and sinking alternately with silent malice, my pillow finally slides to the floor. Heat smothers me to the point of complete suffocation, while cold blows an icy gust down my neck as I battle the bed and covers, both true allies of my blood enemy, insomnia, till in utter rage and despair I leap from hy hostile bed to the hard floor. Annoyance, consternation, desperation gnaw at my wrathful mind like nagging wives. I must get to sleep! 'LYou can't, you can't jeers the relentless' clock monotonously. Faced with a simple, fundamental probf lem like going to sleep, I fail. Oh! the bitter disgrace of such a defeat! I must get to sleep! So I smooth my chaotic covers and humbly crawl back in. fDeliberately relaxing my body, I try to feel myself sinking .... sinking .... sinking into the mattress, but it refuses to give an inch, and I sink much too conscientiously, so that the two of us become the irresistf ible force and the immovable object. My feverish mind grasps at the memory of an article I once read on I-Iow to Cure Insomnia, but I am convinced that the author never waged a single battle with that formidable foe, sleeplessness. I am desperate, howf ever, and I shall give his ideas a fair trial. With a few preparatory twists and tosses and an expedition to get a glass of water which I don't need or want, I am ready to begin my experiment. 'Count something. For some reason I have formed a hostile attitude toward sheep, therefore they are definitely out of the question. I could count the things which I should have done yesterday that I didn't do, or I could count the things which I should do tomorrow that I'm not going to do. No, that might arouse my conscience! Since I am already aware of the number of fingers and toes I possess, that calculation would be of little value. I could count flies jumping over golf balls or elephants jumping over continents, but I don't really like to count things, I never have! What else did the article suggest? Pretend that you are out in the woods, lying on soft moss, and far away from everything. Heavens! is that a beetle crawling up my leg? This woodsy atmosphere is far too buggy for my sleeping comfort! Well then, I am a mummy, and for thousands and thousands of years I have been dead. Rigidly I try to be a mummy, but, having had no first hand experience, I become cramped and stiff under the strain. I thrash around some more as my head becomes dull and sleepy, and meaningless thoughts chase one another around and around in my brain like mice in la cage. Then I gradually become conscious of the ticking of the clock. Start' ing out as a small stacatto tap penetrating my numb consciousness, it grows louder, louder, louder till it is beating and drumming like a tomftom and causing every inch of my body to anticipate each vibrant tick- louder, louder, faster, faster, until my tormented brain cries out for relief, and I bury the pulsating demon in the very bottom of a drawer. Aching from sleepiness, my entire body feels drugged. Teasing, tauntf ing, sleep hovers about my bed. Olh sleep! merciful sleep! sleep which blots out all pain and sorrow and fear! Why, when you visit millions of people, good and evil every night, do you now avoid me? Now really, this is ridiculous! The sun will be coming up any minute 'now only to find me, an emaciated heap under a whirlpool of covers, sleepf less, but oh, so sleepy! I simply must get to sleep! Tomorrow I shall be a perfect victim for my catty friends. Why, my dear, you look simply dreadful! Are you sick? dead? Uh! please let me fall asleep! I'll do anything! Swarming with sense' less thoughts, my mind flits from sanity to madness. Didn't I once hear of a man who hit himself over the head every night because he couldn't get to sleep? Ur was it his wife he hit? Uh, I don't know! I don't know, butlsimply...must...get...to...sleep...sleep.:: Ba.1'b0w'a M CLZWZ, Class of '46 The Qffzlvefziurer The sun shone clear that morn upon the seas, I saw bright visions, dreamed romantic dreams, Inspired by countless plans and theories. And I was called a fool, my task it seems, - Was one for only fools to undertake, But deeper in my soul than words could go There lay a spirit men could never break. I I wished to find a route where winds would blow A steady course into the setting sun. . And so, full rigged, we headed west one morn. Weeks passed, and more. Our trip seemed never done, Yet at the sight of land new hope was born. . - , Adventure called, .then toward me stretched her hand And led me to a new and greater land. Nancy Comey, Class of '45 ew Ilorizom YOUNG GIRL paused at the foot of a hill. From where she stood the vision was limited. She knew all those familiar scenes about her. Gazing fondly at them for a moment, she turned and slowly started up the hill. Halfway up she paused, looking back. An intense longing to return filled her soul. Perhaps it was the call of the unknown that compelled her to continue, perhaps it was her own restlessness. At any rate, she went on, her heart beating more loudly at every step. At last the top was attained, and she stood on the crest. In front of her lay a beautiful valley, the magnitude and grandness of which took her breath away. The hill had been surmounted. In her ,horizon lay the wide valley of opportunity. She started down the hill ...... In that carefree period of my young life, the spring of 1944, I first heard my parents discussing a change of schools for me. !Upon coming down the stairs one spring evening, I heard such snatches of conversation as, 'lDefinite educational advantages, -upoor teaching staff at Chester - she will be glad. In the back of my mind had always dwelt an undefinable dread of girls' schools. Every book that I had ever read on that subject had pictured them as places of extremely strict discipline and places where, if you did not behave, they had a most gruesome punishment in store for you. QWhat strange books a girl gets her hands onll The firm friend' ships that I had formed and the love of Chester .School itself made the prospect of a change seem unbearable to me. But my parents had -not said anything to me about the matter. Perhaps it was my imagination? I did not have time to think about it then. Since a band that was simply out of this world was playing for the annual spring formal, I could not afford to miss one dance! The end of the school year approached with its usual round of picnics and parties. The man from Bastian Brothers Company came one day to take our orders for junior rings. When consulting my parents upon the subject that evening, I was told that if I really wanted a ring I could have one, but, We see little sense in your getting one. The emphasis on the little word g'your brought forth a startled, Why? To this inquiry my parents replied, with faces wreathed in smiles, You are not return' ing to Chester next year! I was stunned and could not find words to ex' press my amazement. Not coming back? They were joking! But my father continued, Aren't you glad? Think of the opportunities offered to you! Cpportunities? But I would never be able to get along in a girl's school. I-Iow could I leave my friends? I was confused and very much frightened. The summer of 1944, although a most enjoyable one, brought me thoughts of the new change. I tried to talk my parents out of the idea. fHow many a young girl has tried that very thing without avail?j I talked and argued and even threatened, doing everything in my power to change their minds. In August the members of my class gave me a farewell party. Words cannot convey my .emotions on that evening, when I walked into the house and was greeted by a chorus of voices shouting, Surpise!'l Before this party the whole episode had seemed fantastic, andthe reality of it had not been impressed upon my mind. On this August evening, however, I did grasp the full reality-I was leaving. Before the opening of school my mother and I went to talk to the headmistress of Hathaway Brown. I was amazed to find, instead of an ogre with long, white fangs, a sweet, genial woman. The school itself did not look much like a prison, but, my mind being prejudiced, I conf tinued in my obstinacy. The day for the opening of school arrived. After having appealed once more the preceding evening, I dressed for school and set out. Upon entering the school, I was greeted by the noisy chatter of girls. The strangeness of the atmosphere fell depressingly upon me. After looking around timidly for some time, I was surprised by a voice asking my name. Turning about, I saw a girl smiling at me. She said that she was my hostess. This word did not seem to register in my mind, but I smiled weakly and followed her. At the sound of the gong we lined up and filed into the auditorium, which was called the chapel . This 'ichapeln was a very cheerful looking hall. The same headmistress to whom my mother and I had talked spoke to us. Various girls, whom I was to know well later, were introduced. After chapel my hostess, having a different schedule than I, left me. It was then up to me to find my classes and get to them on time. I succeeded in arriving safely at all of them, but only after coming to the conclusion that I was about the most stupid person that ever lived. In every class I was amazed to find how different the teachers and teaching seemed. At Chester I had no particular interest in my subjects and had never really learned much of anything. At Hathaway Brown we were given home work the very first night. When I went home that night, although still hostile to the idea, I was conscious of a faint feeling of awakening - as if something deep within me, which had never before been touched were beginning to awaken. The ensuing days and weeks brought many more realizations. I became actually interested in my subjects, and had the desire to learn as much as I could. It was a very comforting feeling to know that I was learning something instead of merely accumulating facts. My father had arranged for me to continue my music lessons, which had been dropped several years ago because of transportation difficulties. At the first lesson I became interested in what the teacher told me. As I had more lessons, I became more and more interested. New friends were made, and I found in the girls a different type of character. The petty jealousies so common in a small town were no longer present. My sense of inferiority to the city girls began to depart from i me. An appreciation of what was being done for me grew. A gradual sense of belonging became evident, and what a wonderful effect that has on the character of a sensitive girl! I began to consider the problems of the world more than what dress .to wear to some particular event. I had the feeling that there was so much more in the world to be learned than I had realized, but, most of all, I was happy! Yes, I had surmounted my hill and viewed my new horizon. Who can tell how many more opportunities this valley will hold for me? I Marilyn Titus, Class of '46 To Ylana Diana, huntress of the gods, who roameth the earth by day, But when the shadows lengthen, loseth thy thoughts of play And then will move in majesty to the peaceful realms above, To thee we raise our hymn of praise, of worship, and of love. As eventide falls and thou sailest and lightest the earth below, We watch thee as thou sheddest thy pale and lovely glow. Dost thou ever feel a loneliness as thou sailest across the skies And watchest the earth at night as it in seeming silence lies? Oh, that thy lovely glow could encompass all the earth And make the peoples of this world see what thy peace is worth. Janet Cutter, Class of '48 Omnzfoience Alone, I hear mankind's mighty symphony: A blendingof untamed harmonies and discordant reverbrations That, whirling upward, merge and despairingly Cry their piercing torment to the silent constellations. Drunken surges of unbridled contumely, That whine through creaking branches and voiceless firs, To mount stridently upward to a lightfstreamed purity, Where music ceases and a virgin stillness whispers. To this measureless silence rolls all earthly raucity. There, where immeasurable skies revolve, The chords are stilledg the sonorous rhythm is hushed Before the immensity of a quiet God. Eleanor Munro, Class of ,45 JW! Buddy E WAS MY BUDDY. I guess he always had been my buddy. We grew up together in a small town back in California. I can remember when he was just a young, freckledffaced kid with most of his front teeth missing. Being a few years older than Court, I always took it upon myself to help him start off on the right foot. I never have been able to figure out why I suffered some of the bruisesthat were meant for him. Perhaps it was because the fellows who ganged up on him were always bigger and older. Court was too easy going as a young boy, and even more so as a man. He never wanted to hurt or destroy, he wanted only to help and to build. You could tell this by the kind and eager look in his clear, blue eyes and the quiet manner in which he spoke. It is hard to describe him perfectly, but he was wonderful! Remember when I said that his eyes were clear blue? I always thought that they were so blue from his continuously looking up at the sky. When he was very young, he used to ask me if that was where God lived. Then as he grew older, he used to say, You know, Pete, some day I am going up into that delicious blue yonder and float on one of those majestic clouds. Court seemed like such a downftofearth fellow that I laughed at those dreams of his, but now Court is laughing at me. In April of nineteen hundred and fortyfone, Court and I joined the Army Air Corps. The war had come with all its nightmares, hatred, cruelty, and murder. It was harder for Court because he was such a peace' loving soul, but he found a solution to his problems in the sky. He had always wanted to fly, and now he had his chance. The war did not seem half so bad up there. He could do things in those clouds of his that he never could have done on the ground. The sky seemed to give him faith and courage. I Yesterday Court went up on a patrol flight. I watched him take off and head for the heavens. He was smiling, and somehow I think he must have known. At last he could call that udelicious, blue yonder his home. Yes, he was a wonderful guy, but best of all he was my buddy! I Joy Greco, Class of '45 g 6If67'7ZZ'l3l A snowflake falls Un garden walls And dies, - , But peacefully, Knowing that it V Will rise. ' Emily Blair Forsythe, Class of '46 Jlfazzz' Jlfczrznzn MAID MARIAN was a beautiful creature. As she sat on the bank of a wooded stream, making muddy eddies in the cool water, her golden hair tumbling over her shoulders, a passerfby would never have suspected that the problems of her everyday life extended beyond this wooded valley. Plainly she was a gentlewoman. In fact, the towers of her father's castle could be seen rising above the trees in the distance. Marian, however, was not sure that she was happy. She did not want to be a fine lady. She did not want to spend her life as an ornament. She wanted to be like her brothers, to wear armor, to carry a lance, to be a knight of King Arthur's Round Table, and to fight outlaws. There seemed to be no chance for a girl like her to work for her ideals in the world. Marian stopped making eddies in the water. The sun was getting high in the sky. Reluctantly she put on her shoes and started back to the castle. Thrusting her previous thoughts into the back of her mind, she turned her attention to the life around her and the path ahead of her. She chose her way along the stream and presently came to the clearing in the woods where the miller lived. She waited for a moment at the edge of the forest, enjoying the beauty of the little clearing, the mill with its huge paddles scooping up the sparkling water, and the background of the green forest. It was not until she had surveyed all this and was starting on her way again, that she noticed the miller lying on the bank of the stream. She hurried over to him and saw that he had fallen on the rocky edge. He was an old man. This was not merely an accident. .She ran to the stream and wet her handkerchief in the cold water. She bathed his head. When presently he revived, she brought him a drink. He recognized her and was grateful. Fortunately it was not far to the mill, and after a time, with Marian's help, he was able to reach his home. The miller lived with his granddaughter. She was only a child, and she turned pale at the sight of her grandfather. Seeing her made Marian want to stop and cry. There were, however, other things to do. The two together put the miller to bed, fed him and made him comfortable. Busy at this work, Marian forgot her brothers and King Arthur and his Round Table. She forgot the beautiful, sunny world outside. Here at last was useful work which she could do. She told the little girl what to do for her grandfather and said that she would come back the next day to see how he was getting along. She had hardly said ugoodbyew when she was overtaken on the path by a knight on horseback. He greeted Marian, smiled, and inquired whether he was on the right path to Marlin Castle. Marian replied that he was and that that was where she lived. Without more ado, the knight dismounted., lifted Marian to the saddle, and said that she should be his guide. There was something about the knight that made Mariaan feel comf X fortable and selffconfident. As they walked along, she found herself telling him about the miller and his granddaughter, about her own feelings and hopes, about her brothers at King Arthur's court, and the wish that she had, to be able to share the adventures which they told about. The knight patted his horse and looked up at her, smiling. He reminded her of her own father, and what he said was characteristic of him. He asked her if she did not think that what she had done for the miller was important. He said that lances and swords were crude implements in a crude world, that kindness, selffsacrifice, and humility were much more powerful weapons. The things that the knights of the Round Table did were important. They required courage and strength, but there were other ways of helping the poor and the sick. I hope, he said, uthat the knights of the Round Table do not think merely of glory and adventure. Something about these words made Marian ask, Are you one of King Arthur's knights? Do you know King Arthur?'l Again the knight smiled. I do, he said. I am King Arthur. 4,5 w L 41. wr 3? vc Malory says that Maid Marian later married one of King Arthur's knights, but others say that she never married, that she lived on in the little valley, bringing help and happiness to the poor people who lived there. A A Betty Bemis, Cla-SS of '47 p Sounds AS a familiar sound ever taken your mind back to almost forgotten memories? If it has, you will know what I mean when I say that the tinkling bell of the Good Humor man brings back memories of my childhood. We rushed through dinner and hurried outside on the summer nights when the Good Humor man was expected, although we knew he would come very much later, perilously close to our bed times. To help the time go more quickly, we played tag on our front lawns, with the light post as our goal. But our hearts were not in the game, for we were eagerly listening for the little white truck, with its gayly swinging bell, to come around the corner and down the street. When it finally appeared, we rushed upon it like a pack of wildly excited, hungry wolves! Confusion and suspense seemed to take hold of us, sweeping us along in its wake, until at last we had the treasured icefcream in our hands. The growing dusk settled comfortably around us as we sat on the steps, making every mouthful last as long as it was posible, and a quiet feeling of peace and serenity' would come over us, while we heard in the distance the faintly tinkling bell grow fainter and fainter. A second sound which brings back an amusing memory to me is the clanging of metal upon metal of the mail slot. Qur mailman was not by nature a cautious or disagreeable man, but when he approached our house, he became cautious, and when he left, he was almost inevitably Qdisaf greeable. You may think this is queer, but not if you.. knew our dog, Bob! I-Ie was really a gentle dog, but he had one bad habit of which no one was able to cure him. He had an instinct which seemed to tell him just when the mailman walked up the pathway. Creeping cautiously into the vestibule and crouching before the slot, he would begin growling in low, menacing tones. A bewildered spectator might think that he was pref paring to charge a tiger or. an equally ferocious animal! Meanwhile,i the mailman was approaching cautiously toward the slot. It was practically impossible for him to deposit the mail without encountering Bob's teeth. The instant the mail showed through the slot, Bob grabbed it with his teeth and pulled. If the mailman's fingers were in the way, Bob never cared, for that only added to the enjoyment of the moment. Then, when the mailman withdrew his fingers and the slot closed with a clang, I attempted to find out if there was a letter for me. But I was doomed to suspense, for Bob' picked up the mail, growling in the same menacing way, and began to shake it. Perhaps he thought it was a remnant of the mailman, for he went through the same procedure every day. No matter what he thought, I still waited in agony for our mail, and all because of the clanging of the mail slot. Another sound is the whirling of roller skates along the pavement. Whenever I hear that familiar sound, the picture of our driveway, where I practiced skating, comes to my mind. You see, our neighbor's driveway joined ours, which gave me twice as much space as anyone else could possibly boast. I started at the top, slowly at first, then with the wheels going faster and faster, gradually gaining momentum, I felt I was fairly flying into the air. As I flew along, my feet 'tingled with the vibrations of the wheels on the pavement, and the cool air whipped my hair back. Pausing at the bottom, I gathered energy for the long climb to the top. I didn't mind that tedious climb, for I knew that soon I should be at the top once more, ready to fly downward again to the tune of whirling roller skates. Have you ever heard the gay, lilting notes of a music box? That sound always reminds me of my aunt's attic. I loved her attic, for it held so many surprising things, but none so interesting as the music box. Aunty fussed with the contents of an old drawer until I reminded her of the music box. Then, pretending that she had forgotten all about it, she would wind it up and it would play a tune. To this day I never tire of hearing that music box. All these sounds are important parts of us. If we let them slip from our grasps, we are losing an important part of our memories. If we lose these things once held dear to us, we shall become dull with nothing to look back upon. . ' Lois Kemzecly, Cla-ss of '46 The Farm We eoulcl never have lorvecl the earth so well if we hatl not been ehllclren in it-GEORGE ELIOT. I-IEN I was in grade school, the long winter days passed quickly for me, because I was anxiously awaiting the summer holidays which brought with them many glorious weeks on the farm. The farm to me was a paradise which had no room for ugliness or evil. I remember evenings when we would all gather for a picnic in the valley beyond the barn. We would ride down the steep, rough hill into the valley on an ancient truck that creaked and groaned over each bump, but we dearly loved it. After supper we would lie in the cool grass and toast marshmallows in the hot coals of the fire until they became a luscious golden brown. When we were sufficiently filled with marshmallows, we would wander over to the little creek, which bubbled through the valley, and spend several minutes skipping smooth pebbles across it. Qften we would try to walk across on the funny shaped rocks that stuck up here and there, as if daring us to jump on them without falling in. Many times we would start to follow the creek to its source, but we always tired after going a short distance. Then we would rest on the mossy banks, and let the cool water lap over our bare feet, and we would laugh at the tiny bugs that skipped back and forth across the creek. Every morning we would try to rise early enough to go with the men to milk the cows. All the cows had been christened in a special little service we had made up ourselves. I remember how thrilled I was when a baby calf born during one of our visits was named after me in a very solemn and impressive service. After the milking was finished, we would stop on our way to breakfast to see the horses. Our favorite horse was Barney, a beautiful roanfcolored stallion. We rode him almost every day, and even though we were inclined to be a bit rough with him, he was always very gentle with us. I used to cling to Barney's silkflike mane fwe never bothered to saddle or bridle him? and we would gallop across the long, wide fields. It was exciting and exhilarating to go galloping across those fields, and I shall never forget the sense of freedom it gave me. Besides horses and cows, the farm had many other animals, including pigs, chickens, cats, and dogs. One summer evening Taffy, a honeyfcolored cocker spaniel, was killed by a hitfandfrun driver. It was a great tragedy, and we all cried bitterly as we buried him under the elm tree near the house. I By the next day we had forgotten most of the sad incident, as it is hard to be sad on a farm where everything is so bright and gay., Wewent up to the hay loft to spend a few hours playing in the hay. What fun it was to slide merrily down the newly mown hay, to jump from pile to pile, sinking down in it, to inhale its fresh sweetness! Qnce in a while as a special treat, we were taken to the old deserted barn near the woods to hear ghost stories. We usually went on moonless, windy nights, and once in the barn we would sit on crates, listening with horror to tales of ghosts and witches. There were many boards loose in the walls of the old barn, and we could hear the wind whistling through them and knocking them against one another. Ur hearing the eerie sounds, we would cling together, fearing that any moment a ghost would appear from the thick shadows. Every day each of us had a special job to do, and mine was to get the cows into the pasture. I always took Tink, the collie, with me, for I was afraid the cows might get stubborn, and they were much larger than I. After safely locking the cows in the pasture, I used to sit on the fence with Tink at my feet and just gaze across the meadow. I loved watching the cows munching the green grass, and watching the cottony clouds move listlessly across the chinafblue sky. Somehow it gave me a sense of security and peace to gaze upon the simple beauty of the earth, and I often wished I could sit on that fence forever. We were always allowed to go to the orchard with the men while they picked fruit. With their long gnarled branches and great heights, the trees were made to order for climbing, and we would race to the top, hardly noticing the rough twigs that scratched our legs and arms as we scrambled through the branches. Then, worn out, we would select a com' fortable branch, and rest while munching a rosy apple or a golden pear. We never had need of candy on the delightful summer days, for the orchards were filled with all kinds of fruit trees - cherry, apple, plum, pears - and all we had to do was choose the fruit we desired. Shading both the house and the tennis courts, was an old elm tree which acted as first base for our ball games and also as a prop for the swing. The swing was often busy, and I loved the tingling feeling I got in my stomach when I swung high above the heads of my friends. Now when I drive past farms or just lie in the cold grass, gazing at the sky, I can not help thinking of the farm that filled the summers of my childhood with love and beauty and taught me to cherish the simple loveliness of the earth. . Mcw't7za Bell, Class of '46 Oloporizmizjz KHOKLJ 0726! Once 71TH both malice and regret Melville Pomeroy looked at his wife, who sat at the other end of the dinner table. Melville was sitting stiffly on the edge of his chair, tense and apparently waiting for something. 'lMelville, take your elbow off the table, his wife said. Yes, dear, came the meek reply that was filled with both pain and relief. The man's entire face seemed to turn downwards, his mouth, his eyes resembled those of a blood hound. Melville! Stop sucking up your soup! Where do you think you are? Yes, dear, Melville replied. Melville clutched his napkin tightly in his clenched fist. He rememf bered the day before they were married, when the present Mrs. Pomeroy had said, When we are married, of course we'll have to do something about your choice of shirts, I really don't see how you can buy such hideous colors. He had laughed at the time, thinking that it really would be rather interesting wearing his brown striped or green plaid only every other day with maybe a white now and then. He looked sadly down at the blue shirt his wife had picked out for him, the color turned his stomach. The memory of a brown or green plaid was very hazy, and he could not quite conjure up in his mind the exact tone of green of which he was so fond. His innocence astounded him! How could he not have realized that a blue shirt instead of a green one would mean his elbows off the table, his soup eaten quietly, and the doing away with everything else that made life enjoyable? After dinner he tried to sneak off to his den before his wife could see him and remind him of what one did and did not do in one's den, but suddenly he heard that familiar voice say, You won't scatter ashes on the floor, will you, Melville? HNO, dear, he replied. At last he reached his haven. Qnce inside, he went to the closet and pulled out his red leather chair, which he had placed there many months ago. His wife had had the room done over the previous year and had disposed of all his beloved objects. The red leather chair had been replaced by a stiff antique, which made the pretense of being comfortable by having a pillow on the seat. The back, however, was made in such a way that one had to be a camel to fit in it. A picture of a butterfly sipping the nectar from a rose had superseded his picture of a schooner that he greatly admired, and even the color scheme had been done over into his hated blue. He slumped down in his red leather chair, letting the ashes fall from his cigarette onto the floor, knowing he would get the carpet sweeper and clean them up before his wife saw them. It gave him satisfaction, how' ever, to know that he could drop his -ashes on the floor if he wished to do so. He reached for a magazine, but to his disappointment fnot surprisej he found only How to Reduce in Ten Easy Lessons, What the Well Dressed Woman Will Wear, and L'How to Get Into the 'Upper Brackets of -Society Without Social Climbing. 'At the sight of these educational but effeminate magazines, his blood grew hot. It seemed to him that every night about this time he was struggling against the desire to murder the sweet, lovable girl he had married so many years ago. Some time before, when he was in an especially bitter and revengeful mood, he had bought a handy revolver at a pawn shop. He opened the drawer to his desk and fingered the gun, which lay so innocently upon a pile of papers. Realizing the idiocy of the idea, he determinedly put the revolver back in its place and closed the drawer. In an effort to rid himself of the thoughts that flitted across his mind, he switched on the radio., ' A 4 As a blast, of swing music jarred the silence, another noise rent the air. Melville! Melville! Turn off that radio! You know how it gets on '97 my nerves. Turn it off this instant. Angrily Melville turned off the radio. His face turned a bright crimf son as his wrath increased. Suddenly a flash of decision went through his brain. He opened the drawer of the desk and took the gun in his hand. It would be so simple! He would put on a pair of gloves so that no finger prints could be discerned and then place the gun in his wife's hand. Sim' plicity was the essence of murder! The decision reached, he prepared to execute his plan at the next opportune moment. As he was taking his gloves from his coat pocket in order to see if he could grasp the gun as well with them on as he could off, he suddenly heard a knock at the door. '!It's l, Melville, Mrs. Pomeroy said as she opened the door. 'lHave you seen my glasses anywhere? she asked. The stage was set. Melville could not have asked for a better opportunity. His hand trembled as he reached for the gun. Suddenly he remained motionless, noticing that the shade was not drawn. Eager for an excuse to withdraw from his resolution, he decided that there were many imperf fections in the moment. Slowly and deliberately he placed the revolver back in the drawer. Suddenly there was a loud report, followed by a dead silence. Quietly Mrs. Pomeroy closed the door behind her. 4 r Joan Thompson, Class of '46 I H f67'Z'm . HB sinking sun left a crimson stain on the evening cloud, but the two soldiers did not notice the peaceful scene. They were tense with waitf ing for the enemy's attack. The silence grew, until it became more eloquent than the scream of the largest shell. The slighter of the two men glanced over the edge of the foxhole and then shattered the quiet with a hoarse whisper, 'tHey, M'ac, how about a smoke? His bearded companion reached into his pocket and without speaking handed over a crumpled cigarette and pack of matches. The thin private looked nervously over his shoulder every few seconds. He struck at the match cover and missed, struck again, and finally the match sputtered and the soldier inhaled deeply once, then with short, spasmodic puffs. Mac leaned gently against the side of the foxhole. g'Say, B-ill, if you don't quit lookin' over your shoulder, your head's going to unscrew and fall plumb off. What's the matter? You scared? Bill looked almost hurt. He gulped. Me scared? 'Course not. Ya gotta be careful, though. No tellin' where them Ierries are hidin'. We ain't been so close to their lines before, either. He held the cigarette now and rolled it between his thumb and his second finger. Mac said almost absently, Well, I'm scared, but there's nothing to do, 'cept wait, I guess. Yeah, suref' Bill laughed in an odd,hiccoughing manner. But it must be pretty hard waitin, if you're scared, Mac. Now me, I ain't afraid. If there was fightinf I'd be the first guy up there pitchin'. - For all of the grime and hollowness about his eyes, there was a kind of fine calm on Mac's tired face. He smiled a bit wryly and settled more comfortably against the foxhole. Suddenly Bill clutched his companion's shoulder convulsively. I seen somethin' move down there in that grove of trees! Mac was silent, as he turned his head toward the trees. He was silent for so long that Bill began to rub his grimy knuckles against his sleeve, and at length he spoke. L'The captain wasn't lookin' for no trouble in that direction. If the Ierries are really hidin' down there, someone ought to tell the captain. g Mac was looking at him now. g I Tell you what, Mac, I'11 just run back and report what I seen. Be with you in a jiffyf' He smiled, but his grin only succeeded in being an empty leer, and a hint of something unpleasant crouched-'in the corners of his mouth. '- IVIac's eyes narrowed, but he merely shrugged. Bill hestitated a mo' ment and then crawled over the edge of the foxhole and made his way over the hill, stumbling once, as he glanced back reassuringly at the lone soldier. Almost at once the whine of a shell ripped across Mac's thoughts, and he saw the shell land with a blinding flash, amid a geyser of earth and shrapnel on the very spot where Bill had disappeared. In horrified amaze' ment Mac stood rooted to the ground. For a moment a wave of sickness overcame him, and he passed his hand across his face. I reckon he didn't even have time to be scared, he said softly to himself and burrowed deeper in the foxhole. Barbara N eeds, Class of '45 The Trimble 0 f the gvlzo It happened that two youths went forth from their dwellingfplace to gather firewood. And one youth was of a joyful and kindly nature, But the other was sullen and unloved. And the two youths came to a huge vault by the wayside and entered therein in their search. Now it came to pass that there dwelt in the cavern an echo, which caught the spoken word and returned it unto the ears of the speaker. And the two youths discovered the echo and raised their voices to hear its answer. Now the goodfnatured youth sang a sweet song, full of joy and gladness, And the echo repeated it faithfully, and it was pleasant to hear. So the boy was happy and rejoiced in the gay sounds. But the youth who had enmity in his soul shouted imprecations into the yawning darkness of the vault. And thus they were returned unto his ears, even as he had spoken them, bitterly and with rancor. And the youth was displeased with what he heard. So it is in life, for in the truth the hearts of men are as an echo, And whatsoever a man saith unto the world, the same shall he hear from it in return. And from his good sayings he shall hear good. And as he speaks evil words, so shall maledictions fall upon his ears. Y - And his fellow men shall judge him by his words, be they good or evil, and will speak unto him as he speaketh. Anne Lioesser, Class of '48 011 Fang Ever let the fcmey frocmn PZeas1w'e never is at 71 ome. -JOHN KEATS LTHUUGH some people are inclined to think that fancy can be a harmful influence in life, especially when they catch some poor, unsuspecting dreamer occupied in an imaginary world when she should be doing a chemistry problem or writing an English speech, they are forced to admit that it has its good points too. For what cannot man's mind create if it is allowed to wander from its everyday track and explore the unfamiliar regions of fantasy? In deviating from his normal pattern of thought, he may find something which will immeasurably enrich his life. In these times of hardship and strife what greater solace can there be than to let the mind wander into the regions of fancy? Here the troubled soul can achieve complete forgetfulness. The fancy can trans' port a person to any corner of the earth or any epoch of human existence and can so imbue him with its spirit that he imagines himself as belong' ing to the world of which he dreams. The- poor man sees himself walking in mirrored halls, and the scrubfwoman envisions herself clothed in yards and yards of beautiful silks and laces. The young boy rides forth with Arthur or Robin Hood to do gallant deeds, and the girls are Roxanes or Iuliets. All are merely letting their fancies transport them out of this world for a while. If you know someone who seems to be dreaming, perhaps he too is merely seeking escape from the sordidness he often sees before him. He finds this escape only in the wanderings of his fancy. But fancy can have a greater value' and importance to man, for it can become a driving and creative force in his life. The artist's sharpened consciousness knows well the conceptive and representative powers of fancy, but every human heart has felt them once. The. povertyfstricken urchin, seeing a man dressed in the height of fashion, will feel them, he will see himself in this rich man's place, and perhaps will spend his whole life trying to become like this man. Almost everyone has or has had at some time, a hero or heroine whom he or she has tried to emulate. And so it goes, ambition and inspiration are both fed by an active fancy. .Surely no man who silently and uncomplainingly conforms to all standards of thought and action can ever lead a full life or get real joy out of living, for he is as a, sheep' driven docilely along with the rest of the flock, obeying strictly and never questioning, possessed of something of the ours not to reason why. ours but to do and die attitude. Only the man whose fancy is effervescent can know what it is really to live, to feel the very blood coursi.ng up and down his veins with joy, to experience exhiliration at all he sees. For fancy is the mother of independence, it .4 'S .9 . ks k A -H AM! can break the bonds of convention and open the door to greater freedom of mind and heart. Freed of its slavery, the soul can then reach greater heights and depths of understanding, awareness, and love. Indeed, such a seemingly small thing as fancy can be the key to spiritual freedom. Thus we must be careful in our criticism of fanciful persons or run the risk of being labeled as utter realists. But, above all, we must use our fancy more wisely, letting it give us pleasure, solace, or enlightenment, but not allowing it to monopolize our time. ' ' Mary Laolels, Class of '45 of Tz'l0t'.f Qs! Thoughts High and yet higher into the blue, Un into endless space . . . He was happy as he flew 4 High and yet higher into the blue. He thought of the things he used to do, Cf home, and his dear one's face. High and yet higher into the blue, Un into endless space . . . Mary Louise Newell, Class of '47 eorge erflzoezh He gave us more than song. He gave us spring And fall and rain and sunshine. Laughter, tears, And love and hate - all these did Gershwin bring To us and those who follow through the years. And to our ears, attuned to melody Of Chopin, Brahms, and Liszt - the masters old, Came strains newfborn - a haunting Rhapsody, An unfamiliar music, strange and bold. Unlike most men whom death doth overtake Before their time, he left rich heritage. He taught us that the modern tunes could make . A quickened pulse, regardless of the age. And so he takes his place with those of yore. The new and old blend here forevermore. Joan Weber, Class of '47 uf Rgilroml Smfiofz I HERE is no spot quite so dramatic as a large railroad station. In it is found a multitude of people of every race, color, and creed, rich and poor. ' In one corner stands an anxious mother carrying a baby with a little boy who is sucking a lollyfpop, clinging to her skirt. Business men reading Time or Esquire sit waiting for their trainftime while puffing on huge, formidableflooking cigars. Standing near the gate, a mother says goodfbye to her soldier son, not knowing when or if he will return. A poor farmer's wife with a basket on her arm sits and gazes at the crowds of humanity about her, wonderf ing perhaps how each individual could devote himself so entirely to his own small affairs while so much was happening around him. To each and every one of the travelers, the most important feature of the busy station is the clock, displayed in a conspicuous place over the entrance. To all it represents a time piece that can measure the last hours of life, or the last moments of someone's happiness. Surely, the big black and white instrument is gazed at a million times a day by thousands of pairs of eyes, while their owners hope that something will make the hands move slower or faster. When a train pulls in, there is a general rush for baggage and other belongings. Even after many have boarded the train, crowds of people are left in the station. Indeed, its business is everlasting and it is never empty. Betsy Frolking, Fourth Prepamtvorgzj J ommanding Offer ILL, go and see why the girls aren't down yet. Hurry up, now! We don't have any time to waste. Remember the beds and dishes have to be done before you and Sally and Margie leave for school. A few minutes later Dad called Bill again. I thought I told you to get the girls and come down directly. Do you hear me?l' This was the first time in a long time that Mother had been sick, and Daddy was taking over the job of getting the household started for the da . - Ass three sleepy little people came trudging down the stairs and into the breakfast room, little Billy exclaimed, But, Dad, the table isn't set yet! I know, I thought that while I was putting on the coffee, you three could be setting the table. Sally, don't just stand there. We'l1 use doilies instead of the yellow table cloth. Margie, goand ask Mother where she keeps the skillet. Bill, what can you be doing? ' Margie, he shouted, you come back down here, and Bill, he added in a quieter tone, you go and ask Mother about the skillet. Margie, we are out of bread. Do you suppose you could run next door+ no, wait, here is a fresh loaf in the bread box. Bill, while you're up there, ask Mother where the potfholders are and how many table spoons to a cup. Wait, S-al, don't go into the library to read the funnies. You have work to do! Such were Daddy's orders. Upstairs I could here Mother quietly laughing to herself, very much amused, I am sure. 'B After about fifteen minutes of labor, when we were sitting down to eat, Margie piped up, Listen, Dad, why don't you do some of the work? All you've done is to give us orders and watch us work. Well, I can't do two things at once -I mean work and watch you youngsters at the same time, so I chose the latter, was Dad's answer. Knowing that he'd gotten the best of us, we set out to .clear the table. After we'd made the beds and come downstairs, he said, 'Tm glad the beds were made so quickly. Now you may march out to the kitchen and do the dishes. HQI1, Daddy, we chorused. Please won't you help us? We'll never get to school on time! Yes, you will, he replied, and turned to go upstairs and tell Mother how well he had managed everything. Scully West, Third Preparatory Terciwzl Tzglez' KWritte'n about on cookie jarj Percival! I Not coming, said Percival. L'Oh, yes, you are coming, my dear boy! Don't forget you are going to Grandma's house today for a whole month. Thank goodness! she added, under her breath. Are you all dressed? Ch, quite, said Percival, coming down stairs. I-Ie was supposed to have on his good shirt and pants, but he was wearing his sport pants and a shirt with green clovers on it, and a green scarf around his neck. And what do you think you are going to do? Play tennis? Is your tail curled, with a ribbon on it? inquired his mother. No, and I don't care, either. I do,'l said his mother. L'Mary, bring the curling iron. Oh, no, said Percival. Oh, yes, you are going to have your tail curled. Come and lie on my knee. Mary, is the iron hot?I' 'LQuite, said Mary. 'gNow go and get a green ribbon, Mary. g'Uuch! cried Percival. Be quiet, Percival. g'Oh, nuts, said Percvival. Now the ribbon, Mary. There! You look svveet.'I Madam, the coach is ready, said Mary. Now be a good piglet, son, said his mother. Goodfbye. g'Goodfbye, Motherf' Percival soon got tired of sitting by himself and asked the driver to let him come up in front. Next he asked him to let him hold the reins. Percival cracked the vvhip and they were off. The driver was speechless. When they arrived at Grandma's house, he looked dead. As soon as Percival was in the house, he broke a vase, his grandf mother's favorite, and right then and there, she spanked him. After that, every time Percival said or did anything naughty, Grandma spanked him and when he went home he was such a good piglet that his mother hardly knevv him. Susie Stolcoe, Second Prepczrat01'y Snow Jlfmz I built a snow man On the ground, Big and fat, And good and round. I gave him a pipe, And lots of teeth, And made him look Like an Indian Chief. He smiled and laughed And sank down low, The people laughed As they said, I'Iello! . The sun came out And melted him down And that was the end Of the Indian clown. V , Gay Pollock, First Preparatofry Life Wzfh Z.bb67lJ' ' A Witch 'S Cat T WAS a few days before my eighth birthday. I was very excited be' cause my mother and I were to buy me a birthday present in Dr. Powell's pet shop. I looked at all the puppies and fell in love with all of them. A dachshund licked my fingers, a Scottie poked his cold, black nose into my hand, three cocker spaniels barked at me from the corner. Anyone of these could have been my birthday present, but I couldn't decide. Then I heard a faint meow. I looked around, and there at the back of the store, I saw a little kitten. I-Ie was prowling around his small cage, a thin, white cat with black spots in the wrong places. I'Ie seemed a very unhappy cat. I had wanted a puppy, but the kitten seemed to need me now. When we drove home, my birthday present, the kitten, sat on my lap. ' For many weeks he was just 'Lthe kitten to us. We were too busy nursing him back to health to think of a name for him. Then, one day he seemed to enjoy his milk and kept down his ground beef. From that day on the kitten got better and better. Before long he was playing in the garden. It was then that we realized he would not come to the call of l'Kitty! Kittylf' Cur cat had to have a name. just at this time I was reading a book called The Midnight Folk by John Masefield in which there was a cat called Nibbens, a wonderful cat that knew much about witchcraft. I had tried to make the kitten sit on my shoulders as all good witchfcats do, but without much success. Anyway, I named the kitten Nibbens. Nibbins led a quiet life before we moved out to Daisy Hill where he discovered woods, squirrels, and best of all, rabbits. It was lucky for Nibf bens that we moved just before meat got so scarce. Now, whenever Nibbens' bowl is empty, he turns hunter and comes home looking full and happy- Nibbens sometimees acts like a real witchls cat. When the wind goes Whoofoo in the treetops, he can't stay indoors and when the moon is full, he stays out all night. Une morning he brought home part of a rabbit and put it on the mat by the front door. Cook was angry but I think he was trying to be kind because meat was so scarce. Nibbens is just an alley cat but he belongs to our family and we love him very much. Barham Bergstrom, First Preparatory 1 W . 1 v ,J 1 . 4 l 1 I . Y ' Y 1 I gi .9 i r , 4 If ' in 2 , .1 ,af President ........ .......... E lla Hornickel The Student Cozmfil CR those of you who have not been so fortunate as to have crossed the fateful threshold of the Council chamber, here is a glimpse into our secret activties. Momentous matters concerning discipline and legisf lation have been weighed in our sessions. Although we have made many mistakes, we hope that our efforts to effect student government have in some small way aided in the smooth running of school affairs. To Mrs. Owen, who has so generously devoted her time to rescuing us from the depths of despair and failure, we can only express our most sincere gratif tude. To the Council of next year we willingly bequeath the headaches of study halls, chapel lines,and demeritsg but is is with much sadness that we relinquish the fun derived from the duties of the Student Council. , ' 45. v, ' , 4 , ,.i3,.N 9 .. 4 President ............................................................................. ............... P atsy Davin The Qfffhletzk QxYJf06Z'L1!Z'071 HE numerous activities of the Athletic Association this year have been conducted by an Athletic Council, which consists of members elected by each class of the upper school, and each member acts as a manager of one sport during the year. In the competitive sports, which the Council planned, the Class of '45 captured the hockey championship in the fall and later in the year the basketball championship. Also, during the hockey season the Senior team enjoyed the annual privilege of competing in the Laurel Play Day, in which Hathaway Brown tied for first place with Laurelg and during the basketball season the three upper class teams of Laurel and Hathaway Brown played a series of games which Hathaway Brown won 5 to 1. ln the individual sports Beatrice Chase of the Class of '47 won the basketball shooting contestg Paula Young and Martha Harris, also of the Class of '47, were champions in the pingfpong singles title. The badminton singles tournament was won by Nancy Houriet of the Class of '45 g andthe doubles, by Charlene Christopher and Lois Chase of the Class of '46. This year the Athletic Council has enjoyed planning the sports of H.Bg fespecially since we have been blessed with such good weatherQ, and we wish the best of luck to next year's teams. Editor ....... ......... B arbara Bates The Sperzzlaria foam' HIS year we have endeavored to make Specularia a palace of memories, ever dear to our hearts-memories of carefree laughter and merriment, of true and lasting friendships, of literary achievements, and of all that Hathaway Brown meant to us throughout the years. In this attempt we have included in Speculmfia snapshots taken during many of the school activities and also the masterpieces of literature from each class, including the Raymond Short Story Prize and the Poetry Prize, which are given annually. Uur true gratitude can never be written in words, but we wish to attempt to express our sincere thanks to all members of the school who have made many contributions, both literary and pictorial, and who so willingly supported the Spec activities, to Mrs. Simmons, whose invaluf able help can never be forgotten, and to Miss Bruce, who has patiently given us so much of her time and whose everfappreciated advice has guided us throughout the year. V 1 E L Editor ................................................................................................ Lucia Smith The Reviefzv AVING seen seven copies of the H.B.S. Review roll off the press, we regard ourselves as experts' in the field of journalism. With thoughts of gossip, sports, and class news whirling around our befuddled brains, we would systematically heave sighs of relief, mingled with satisf faction, as the last comma was inserted and the last t crossed, and the paper was finally sent to the printer for the last time. With the beginning of the construction of each new Review we would all take a solemn oath that this Review would be our best and perhaps the best in the history of the school! As each Review was distributed, we would all glance around to see how people were reacting to our newly accomplished masterf piece. Uf course, it was rather disappointing when Review did not prove to be the object of admiration and enjoyment that we all expected, but on the whole it was well worth the effort we put into it. Now as we put down our pens and hand H .B.S. Review over to you, Class of '47, we sincerely hope that the school will proudly acclaim seven times next year, This is the best Review we havenever had. President ........ T ........ Betty Bassett The Qrzzmrzizk Club HB Dramatic Club of Hathaway Brown School is compased of Iuniors and Seniors who have dramatic ability and enthusiasm for dramatics. These girls may be elected through their performances in plays or through tryfouts which are held in the fall and spring. 'Under the excellent superf vision and coaching of Miss Anderson, the girls produce plays throughout the school year. Cnefact plays are usually given in chapel, and others, such as the Carnival and Senior plays, are given for both the school and the public. This year the Carnival play, composed of Seniors only, was a satire on American women of today, entitled, Thursdays Af Home. The Senior play, which was given in February, was Cilbert and Sullivan's T he Gondoliers, which was most successful. An annual award is given by the Academic Department to the Bette Davis of the graduating class. This year the award, the MI-I.B. Cscarfi was given to Betty Bassett, and hon' orable mention to Jean Drouillard and Eleanor Munro. The members of this year's club have greatly enjoyed presenting plays, and the graduating members wish the Dramatic Club even more success and enjoyment in the future. President -............ ............... I ean Drouillard Q The glee Club We ITH songs of Thanksgiving the Clee Club made its debut this year Throughout the season it climbed the scale of harmonious events. At Carnival ditties by the Triple Trio echoed from the big gym. In February, the Senior Class with its tvventyfthree Clee Clubers, produced The Gondoliers. Cn April the thirteenth the Ensemble sang the Lord's Prayer as a tribute to the late President Roosevelt. As usual, the notef Worthy concert with University School, followed by a dance, climaxed the season. p And now that the last song has been sung, the Clee Club raises its baton high in salute to Mrs. Crittenden, who has made so much fun out of every musical minute. fa u 'Eff First Term Second Term Raenelle Rubin .......... ................ P resident ............... ........... M iriam Dyer joan Thompson ........,. ........... Co uncil Member ......... ........ B lair Forsythe V Clay! of '46 MUST enjoyable junior year, filled with days of both hard work and pleasure, has been completed. As we, the Class of '46, look forward to our senior year at HathavvayfBrown, our thoughts turn reminf iscently to the highlights of the past year. Much fun and keen competition have been found in the field of sports. Qur social life has been one of varied experience. The highest peak of enjoyment Was, of course, the juniorfSenior Prom, which could not have been more successful. The publishing of our H.B.S. Review has furnished us with both pleasure and valuable experience. Words cannot convey our feelings of pride upon receiving our class rings. Without the everfready help of our advisors, We could never have had so pleasurable and profitable a year. In closing, we wish to express our deepest appreciation to Miss Reeve and Mrs. Convvell, and our sincerest wishes that the oncoming class will enjoy their junior year as fully as we enjoyed ours. ' First T erm Second Term Patricia Martin .......... .................. P resident ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, S ally Blair IVIEIFY i N6alC .............. .......... C Ol111Cil Member ,,,,,,,,,,,,,, ,,,,,,,,,,,, I Ogelyn France Clan of '47 CW that we of the Class of 1947 have completed our sophomore year, we can look back on it as one of hard work and many activif ties. In the course of the year we helped in the fun of Circus Day, won the volleyfball championship, and defeated the Laurel Sophomores in basketball. Also, one of our classmates captured the prize in the basketball shooting contest and another, in the pingfpong tournament. We were sorry that we were unable to give the traditional Christmas play, but we are looking forward to performing it next year. The climax of all our striving was the FreshmanfSophomore Prom, and in spite of many headf aches in its preparation, we shall never forget that St. Patrick's Day dance. Last, but certainly not least, came Junior Day, when we had our turn at entertaining the juniors with a skit and a song. We know that when we finally graduate and become alumnae, we shall look back on our sophof more year with many fond memories. A ' First T erm Second T efrm Gloria Jones ............ ................ P resident .............. ................. S ally Merica Caroline Watt ...... ........... C ouncil Member ....... ......... M argaret Stevens Clary of ,418 UW that this year has drawn to a close, we, the Freshmen, are sorry to see it end. We have had many eventful times this year, but we are looking forward to even better ones in the coming years. Cfur athletic scores have been low this year, but we are going to try to improve them as Sophomores. Our musical ability, however, is better than our athletic prowess, for in the choral contest we surprised everyone by carrying off the coveted first place. Cn the scholastic honor roll were several girls from our class whose achievements have inspired us to work harder than ever. Un our social calendar the greatest event, without a doubt, was the FreshmanfSophomore dance, which was held in March. With many thanks to our class advisors and teachers for their help and counsel, we take our places as Sophomores, filled with happy memories of the past year and eagerly awaiting what is in store for us. IV PREP Allgood, Judith Baier, Gretchen Benton, Dorothy Bourne,Betsey Carr, Challis Collier, Nancy Dudley, Patricia Duncan, Joyce Forsythe, Ann Forsythe, Margaretta Frolking, Betsy Fullerton, Sue Hutchinson, Ruth Johnson, Judith Kadow, Nancy Lucas, Ann McDonald, Joan McFarlane, Mary Miller, Helen Miller, Joan Motto, Mary Pierce, Patricia Quay, Ellen Richardson, Virginia Schoenberger, Sally Smith, Carol Smith, Julia Swensrud, Lois Veach, Virginia Werntz, Margaret Trepczmfory Department 1944 ' 1945 III PREP Balkwill, Susan Bemis, Becky Bernet, Marianne Brown, Marilyn Burge, Jane Anne Conwell, Suzanne Crawford, Nancy Creighton, Cynthia Dewey, Edith Dunbar, Joanne Duncan, Beverle Duncan, Dorothy Emeny, Faith Engholm, Joan Feder, Alice Gilbert, Gretchen Graham, Jane Harlepp, Francoise Hobbs, Carolee Jackson, Virginia McWiliams, Marianne Morris, Patrica Parker, Joyce Parks, Patricia Prescott, Anne Selover, Sally Weidlein, Polly West, Sally II .PREP Balkwill, Beatrice Bartshe, Joyce ' Bernet, Suzanne Daley, Kate Foy, Patricia Fries, Carole Hazlett, Karen Hutchinson, Jean Kuhn, Jane Kuhne, Olive Monroe, Jane Perry, Michael Ann Powell, Mary Sue Prescott, Joanne Rankin, Gertrude Shepard, Sandra Smith, Nancy Stokoe, Suzanne Thompson, Jenny Ann Tielke, Ann Tinnerman, Jean Tremaine, Boyd West, Marguerite I PREP Alexander, Jean Armstrong, Virginia Bergstrom, Barbara Biggar, Carolyn Bolton, Betsy Burlington, Drucilla Bunts, Betsey Burton, Sarita Dudley, Dorothea Egeberg, Sally Haag, Suzanne Johnson, Kay Lees, Judy Ogle, Carolyn Pollock, Gay Porter, Barbara Sawyer, Janet Sawyer, Virginia Stewart, Nancy ' Stout, Carol Wilson, Patsy ax mx NX QQ f A Jr' 2 x . A f . E. ' 7, , +41 .. Y! W , I f .fx , 21 M M, f X 'S - Q X Q f WZ. fiwf 5 I f ffqyg , 5 yslxx. mf J X :rf vS,f xysffi , Q N f, W Q M ,,,,, 4554 7 M 2 W2 f , 4 ffg 5, 4. Q f Y f 1 141. ff .f, .4- Q ' , X-Hg. ,. .fwrq 'S x .7 , ' wen , E 29 . N A ,S L 4-A Q , 5 i n 1 1 x 1 w 1' I i l 1 1 L 1 W 6 Senior Fewerifef BRANCH OF SERVICE: Navy 183 Army Air Corps ,133 Army, 103 Navy Air Corps, 7 ' BTENJS COLLEGE: Princeton, 83 Dartmouth, 83 Yale, 63 Amherst, 6 BOYS' SCHOOL: Weste1'n Reserve Academy, 17 3 U. S., 9. ACEOR: Van ohnson, 103 Gregory Peck, 53 Joseph Cotton, 5: Gary Cooper, 43 Lawrence Olivier, 33 Gene Kelley, 1 CLaddsj ACTRESS! Ingrid Bergman, 143 June Allyson, 83 lWargaret Obrien, 5 LUNCH: Hamburgers, 133 Roast beef, 103 Sandwiches, 63 Chicken, 33 Everything, 1 QHOrnickelj BTUSICIANZ Harry James, 123 Glenn Miller, 103 Fred VVaring, 7 3 Johnny Blercer, 5 SONG: Wliijfenpoof, 163 Night and Day, 93 I'lZ Be Seeing You, 63 Always, 33 Long Ago and Fav' Away, 1 Qhlunroj SYMPHONY: Beethoven's Fifth, 17 3 Tchaikovsky's Fifth, 103 Tchaikovskyis Sixth, 103 The Unfinished, 6 STUDY: English, 193 Chemistry, 7 3 History, 63 Biology, 53 ltiath, 5 SCHOOL OCCASION: Graduation, 233 Christmas, 153 Carnival, 63 May Day, 3 . A SEASONS Spring, 37 3 Summer, 113 Fall, 63 Winte1', -56 SPORT: Swimming, 153 Tennis, 93 Riding, 93 Hockey, 7 3 Baseball, AL IJOET! Browning, 113 Shelley, 93 VVordsworth, 83 Frost, 83 Rupert Brooke, 7 3 Keats, 5 COLLEGE: Smith, 113 Wellesley 43 Sweetbriar, 43 Connecticut, 413 Briarcliff, 41 TDERFUMEI Chanel No. 5, 163 Intoxication, 93 Tigress, 93 Tabu, 83 Blue Grass, 6 A 3 MAGAZINE: Life, 193 Seventeen, 123 Journal, 93 Madelmoiselle, 7 3 Time, 63 Readefs Digest, 63 Famous Funnies, 1 QHancockj GATHERING-PLACE: J ak-Kraws, 153 J ohn's Room, 133 Skating Club, 93 Hudson, 2 Qhlurphy and Grayj DISTRACTION: Censored3 Men fnaturallyj 3 Spring feverg Telephone calls l . 1 1 1 1 W Y 1 , I r I , I L 1 I -4 w 1 w w 1 1 1 z 1 i A I iff L Q. A , I I h 1 .li . 1 - 1 . lk T 1 last will ant: Tliestament We, the Class of '45, being of exhausted minds and emaciated UD bodies, do hereby unburden V ourselves and H. B. by this Last Will and Testament. . - We leave: ' ' . Lucie's helpfulness to any six willing Juniors Bassett postponing a conference I Comey's humor to Susie Stephens Miss Blake raising the question Stecher's allergies to Blair Forsythe ' . Barbara Black's absence slips to her sister, Betty T The Spec Board just thinking Hornickel's and Hurlock's followers crushed i I-Iourietleaving peace to the chemistry laboratory - Posy's and Ann's trips to Hudson to anyone with a strong constitution B Teddy's tickling the ivories to Sara McCrum ' Bates's place on the honor roll for rent y Jo's keys to the dorm icefbox to the hungry Juniors Sweeney and Gray struggling between the concrete and the abstract . Cara to Iack Kay Sherwood's Rapid tokens to lvliriam Dyer and Marilyn Cole Inky's crown to future May queens Nancy Coe's successful diet to anyone with enough will power Davin's problems to anyone who can solve them Une diametrically split hair to Miss Bruce ' A. neatly tilted head to Iasha Two hundred hen parties to next year's Seniors Squuntz's aliases to anyone unfortunate enough Lizzie's standing milkfshake order to Mr. Stutz Ellie despairingly submitting poems Ella's gavelto the best organizer Scrawled, scribbled, and erased by the Class of 1945 as their Last Will and Testament, in the presence of the undersigned as witnesses. A Hot .Potato This Here Man Here 4 r H , 5 , 1 1 T Y V s s X 1 I - X Pr 3 1 W r. i I 1 w 3 I 1 1 I 1 1 x X 1 I A -'X ., r A. , W 2 I . 4 . 2 - 1 ' A p JF 1 W 4 W - 1 THEWEAKLY NUUSE Date: Van Johnson U Circulation: Arterial TEACHERS' CONVENTION INvADEs CITY JITTERBUG PRIZE The Order of Willing Teachers held a colorful meeting today, with the folf lowing outstanding lectures: Introductions- . p' -Nancy Coe Perpendicular Posture- -Lucie Kennerdell The New Baseball Swing- -Patsy Davin Don't Mark in the Hymn Books- Q V -Leora Davis NEW SINGING STAR p MAKES HIT Bella Cellini falias Isobel McClellanj made an illusf trious debut last night in Carnegie Hall. She was ac' companied by Miss Edna Geifine, wellfknown pianist. . NEW STABLES Barbara Black, outstanding woman rider, contributed beautiful stables to her old alma mater, we were ,inf formed today. I-IIGH'S STATE Now showing 'IThree Beauts and a Beast starring Lana Marshall Hedy Williamson Veronica Munro QUINTS ARRIVE Mr. and Mrs. John Avery proudly announce the birth of ive sons. ATENTION!! NATURE LOVERS!!! Diana Dempsey will conf duct a bird walk in Petrified Park at V5 a.m. tomorrow. COMING! Look for the sensational new art editor of the Weak- Zy Noose-the famed Mlle. Annette Fiery! WORLD VOYAGER AND FAMOUS SINGER RETURN Barbara Erwin and Cathf erine Krueger, after a colorf ful trip abroad, have anf nounced they will make a naf tionfwide lecture tour. - THE CIRCUS IS COMING TO TOWN Ringfmaster: Hurlock Added attraction: ' Houriet, The human jumpingfboxlll TERRIFIC TWOSOME janet Martin and Margie Richardson held a large audif ence spellfbound with a disf tinguished piano duet. CARTERIS CLASSY CORNER for CLEANING MESSY MOCCASINS IOC a pair NEW SCIENTIFIC DISCOVERY A new element, Xenof ptylzquotz, has just been disf covered by the distinguished Mesdames Harris, Menk, and Bates. A sensational threefway tie for highfstepping at the Palladium was awarded to Jeanne Rupp, Joan Johnf son, and Marilyn Whitney. HOMEfTOWN GIRLS MAKE GOOD Benton, Day, and Veach are on their way to New York for excellent positions as models. SOCIAL SCOOPS -by B. Bassett Skating star, Jean Drouilf lard, has Hnally made up her mind? Who is it? Will there be another one of those exciting housefparf ties given by Betsy Brown and Alice Wick out on their farm? Is Jo Zeve coming north from sunny Florida merely to attend the reunion of the Class of '45 which is to be held at the home of Louise Kundtz? CRITIC'S COZY CORNER -by M. Ladds Reviews of world tri' umphs by Stecher, Needs, and Sweeney. The Screwy Stechers is greeted by giddy giggles and timely titters. The Ialoriaoin Beyond wins great acclaim for its author, Barbara Needs. Humor cmd Philiosoplzfy by Sweeney nears best seller list. THE WEAKLY N UUSE Vote for I-IORNICKEL GRAY for president and vicefpresif dent of the United States, sponsored by the Know Nothing Party: Platform: One deluxe swim' ming pool to Hathawayf Brown. KINDERGARTEN ENTRY Mrs. Elizabeth Stephens L'Who enrolled her third child today in Helen Forf ward's kindergarten. ANNIVERSARY Mrs. Joy Greco SOfand So entertained lavishly at dinner to celebrate her plasf tic anniversary. W.R.A. TURNS COED Mrs. Ann Murphy Etc, has been announced presif dent of the new feminine section of Western Reserve Academy. OPENING WORST and CO. One account outfits several families!! Under management of Pringle and Watt Featuring dresses designed by Frances Darrow and Roberta MacKenzie. MEETING Friday afternoon at 3 p.m. Miss Patsy Duffy and Miss Amie Newell will bring down their gavel to begin the first meeting of the Book of the Moment Club. ANNOUNCING Miss Kathryn Sherwood has recently been appointed as Absentee Manager of Hack and Jeintz. REUNION Jane Reading and Sue Sheldon are attending the annual Ota Beta Cuta Whatf ta Gal sorority union. HANCOCK DRUG STORE Corner of Death Row and Courtland 1 Featuring special Mumbo Jumbo Sundaes served with a smile by Nancy Comey. Senior Tolly LIVELIEST: Houriet, Hurlock, Davin LEAST LIVELY: Sheldon WITTIEST: Comey, Hancock, Stecher MOST SOPHISTIOATED: Erwin, Drouillard, Greco MOST BTAIVEZ Marshall, Carter, Smith MOST SERIOUS: Bates, Sweeney, Kennerdell, Needs FUNNIEST: Smith, Houriet, Stecher SINOERE: Hornickel, Kennerdell, Fiery, Forward MOST MOST MOST BEST MOST BEST MOST MOST MOST VERSATILE : TALENTED : ORIGINAL! Fiery, Munro, Smith Hornickel, Ilurlock SPORTS: Brown, Davin HELPFUL! Kennerdell, Fiery, Hornickel DRESSED: Drouillard, Davin, Williamson NICK-NAMED! Kundtz, Drouillard, Marshall AUDIRLE: Houriet, Ladds, Hurlock lWunrO, Geffine .il ng if I T A 1 . wi., I , rl' lex , , ,,, i, vm-1' H' 1, gl ,, wily ls., i? -w ll MW ,H F iff W., i? i5 5 W I H 1,1 Y I, I 1 A 3 VW, rm MP5 9 i-.f. x-,,l r I ! i. wit, Vx iv!-r M 34 :XV TEHG1 J'. et i 1 if Fi mr W 'I lf' Qui up li R! ' w :lr-4 'I 'Nw V M Q! NVQ Ulu? 11 I l yl if MY lf, NH Mg my l 1 n x . ' . - J -., , .. 2. - ..f ff-1',A,.,1-- '--H---hp ..- y,511.,,,-,-f -'f' N .HM-'I 'Ll ,Nr , ,,, by---,,f,.-. .t.--:Am 1 , -, . M f ,, 2 -' , - ,, , ' . ' 1 . -' ' ' ' ' - ' . , L ..:.-+ f - , -' .-. uf., ' ' ..-.-.---'V , ,K-JV' . ,,, U.-3 -,,,,...v V-,,-,.., ,.. , -- , -. .g,. -L , I ,-,- 3 . .,, V ., . I . A , A fi . z A 1 1 Y 1 f 4 f 1 1 x x l A 1 N i I N X , I I 1 x I W E V w i Y I Y 1 5 x Y 1 I 4 1 i Y Y f Y Y 1 I 1 fI I' III . 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II' I .II I I I III' I , I I I I Clary of 194 5 Bassett, Betty ........... ................... 2 751 Claythorne Road, Shaker Heights 22, Ohio Bates, Barbara .......... ........................................... 2 7 Grover Street, Auburn, New York Benton, Peggy .............. ............................ 2 973 Morley Road, Shaker Heights 22, Ohio Black, Barbara ......... ............ 2 959 Fairmount Boulevard, Cleveland Heights 6, Ohio Brown, Betsy ................. ................................. 2 617 Berkshire Road, Shaker Heights, Ohio Carter, Barbara ............ ............ 1 8800 Shaker Boulevard, Shaker Heights 22, Ohio Coe, Nancy ............... ................... 1 3303 Lake Shore Boulevard, Bratenahl, Ohio Comey, Nancy ............. ........... 1 9101 Shelburne Road, Shaker Heights 18, Ohio Darrow, Frances .... ............................................. R . D. No. 7, Box 141, Akron, Ohio Davin, Patsy ............. ....... 1 ..... 1 8001 Shaker Boulevard, Shaker Heights 20, Ohio Davis, Leora .............. ...,............... Q ..,........... 2 995 Morley Road, Shaker Heights 22, Ohio Day, Alice ...............t........ ........... H otel Alcazar, Surrey Road, Cleveland Heights, Ohio Dempsey, Diana .............. ........................ . 12819 Lake Shore Boulevard, Bratenahl, Ohio Drouillard, Jean ................ ....................... 2 707 Inverness Road, Shaker Heights 22, Ohio Duffy, Patsy .................... ............... H otel Alcazar, Surrey Road, Cleveland Heights, Ohio Erwin, Barbara ....... .......,......... 2 966 Manchester Road, Shaker Heights 22, Ohio Fiery, Anne ..................... ............................ 2 676 Eaton Road, Shaker Heights 18, Ohio Forward, Helen ........... .............. 2 385 Queenston Road, Cleveland Heights, Ohio Cfefline, Edna ............ ............................. 1 4303 Drexore Road, Cleveland 20, Ohio Cray, Katherine .......................... ........................................ 1 68 Hudson Street, Hudson, Ohio Greco, Joy ............................................. .............. ,............................ .... W a r ner Road, Youngstown, Ohio Hancock, Mary Elizabeth ........................ 18927 Shelburne Road, Shaker Heights 18, Ohio Harris, Suzanne .......................... ........................ , 927 Freeport Road, Taretum, Pennsylvania Hornickel, Ella .................. .................... 2 951 Kingsley Road, Shaker Heights 22, Ohio Houriet, Nancy ......,.... .............. 3 712 Rawnsdale Road, Shaker Heights 22, Ohio Hurlock, Betty ............ ........,...... 3 103 Falmouth Road, Shaker Heights, 22, Ohio Johnson, Joan ............... ........................... 2 0950 Colby R-oad, Shaker Heights 22, Ohio Kennerdell, Lucie ............ ............................ 2 243 Elandon Drive, Cleveland Heights 6, Ohio Krueger, Catherine ........................ .2285 Washington Boulevard, Cleveland Heights 6, Ohio Kundtz, Louise ........... ........... 1 ............... 2 969 Eaton Road, Shaker' Heights 22, Ohio Ladds, Mary ...................... ................... 1 9301 Shelburne Road, Shaker Heights 18, Ohio McClellan, Isobel ................. .,.............................. 1 46 North Pitt Street, Mercer, Pennsylvania MacKenzie, Roberta ......... ............ 3 040 Fairmount Boulevard, Cleveland Heights, Ohio Marshall, Dorothy ............... .......,............... 1 6333 Parkland Drive, Shaker Heights 20, Ohio Martin, Janet ...................... ................ - .............. 2 861 Paxton Road, Shaker Heights, Ohio Menk, Charlotte ............. ............ 1 9212 Shelburne Road, Shaker Heights, Ohio Munro, Eleanor .......... ........,.. 2 244 Harcourt Drive, Cleveland Heights 6, Ohio Murphy, Ann ............... ..................................................., 2 04 Streetsboro Road, Hudson, Ohio Needs, Barbara ......, .......................... 3 321 Dorchester Road, Shaker Heights 22, Ohio Newell, Amie ........... .................................. 2 613 Derbyshire Road, Shaker Heights 6, Ohio Pringle, Polly ............... i ...... ............ 2 2 89 South Overlook Road, Cleveland Heights 6, Ohio Reading, Jane ........... 1 ............. ......................... . 2844 Weybridge Road, Shaker Heights 20, Ohio Richardson, Margaret ...................... 3283 Norwood Road, Shaker Heights 22, Ohio Rupp, Jeanne ...................... .......... i .....................................,...... M arion Avenue, Mansiield, Ohio Sheldon, Susan ....................... .............,.......... 2 696 Cranlyn Road, Shaker Heights 22, Ohio Sherwood, Kathryn ........... ............................... 1 8124 West Clifton Road, Lakewood 7, Ohio Smith, Cara ......................... .........,...... 2 2099 Shaker Boulevard, Shaker Heights 22, Ohio Stecher, Mary ......................... ............................... . ......... 1 2962 Lake Avenue, Lakewood-7, Ohio Stephens, Elizabeth ............ .............. 2 721 Chesterton Road, Shaker Heights 22,' Ohio Sweeney, Marilyn ..... i ......... .- ........ 20975 Claythorne Road, Shaker Heights 22, Ohio Veach, Nancy .................... ................................................. W est Hill Drive, Gates Mills, Ohio Watt, Marian .......................... ............... 2 235 Harcourt Drive, Cleveland Heights 6, Ohio Whitney, Marilyn .............. ............ , 2436 Channing- Road, University Heights, Ohio Wick, Alice ........................ ...................................................... T he Courtyard, Mentor, Ohio Williamson, Mary ........,..... ......................... 1 7839 Lake Avenue, Lakewood 7, Ohio Zeve, Joanne ...................... .......................... 4 44 Tod Lane, Youngstown, Ohio Faazlzjf, Hathaway Trowa School Allen, Marie ................................ ........................ 1 0708 Deering Avenue, Cleveland 6, Ohio Anderson,'Mabelle ...................... ....................................... 9 7119 Logan Court, Cleveland 6, Ohio Aul, Mrs. Romaine G ............................................................. ......................................... Q .............................. D ormitory Baird, Mrs. James ................... .......,.. 2 436 Traymore Road, University Heights 18, Ohio Blake, Anna .......... ' ................... ........... 2 8 36 Scarborough Road, Cleveland Heights 18, Ohio Blanchard, Shirley .............. ..................................................................................................................., D ormitory Bourne, Mrs. Emil .............. ........................... 2 730 Shelley Road, Shaker Heights 22 Ohio Bruce, Ada ......................... ................................ 1 2931 Shaker Boulevard, Cleveland 20, Ohio Carl, Mrs. F. M ............. .................... 2 974' Berkshire Road, Cleveland Heights 18, Ohio Cleveland, Anita .................................... 3021 Scarborough Road, Cleveland Heights 18, Ohio Coburn, Anne Cutter ........................................................ - .................................................. The Alcazar, 6, Ohio Conwell, Mrs. Stanton A ......... 1-1411 South Woodland Road, Shaker Heights 20, Ohio Corrigan, Betty ................................................ 3234 Chadbourne Road, Shaker Heights 20, Ohio Crittenden, Mrs. -Frank C ............. ...... 3 099 .Chadbourne Road, Shaker Heights 20, Ohio Degnan, Mrs. Joseph D ............................... 3660 Lynnfield Road, Shaker Heights 22, Ohio Denny, Ruth ..................................... ........................... 1 914 East 101st Street, Cleveland 6, Ohio Dietrich, Mrs. M. C., Jr ........ ............. 1 5457 Brewster Road, East Cleveland 12, Ohio Drake, Pauline ............................ .......... 3 021 Yorkshire Road, Cleveland Heights 18, Ohio Dunn, Mrs. Robert ................ ................................ 1 120 Forest Avenue, Lakewood 7, Ohio Gilchrist, Helen ......................... .................................. 9 504 Lamont Avenue, Cleveland 6, Ohio Glover, Dr. Leona ........................ ............. 2 507 Guilford Road, Cleveland Heights 18, Ohio Harlepp, Mrs. Roger E ........... ............... 2 548 Overlook Road, Cleveland Heights 6, Ohio Hirstius, Mrs. Mary ............... ......................... 3 315 Elsmere Road, Shaker Heights 20, Ohio Howell, Mrs. Alfred ............ .., .................. 3718 Strandhill Road, Shaker Heights 22, Ohio Jenson, Jenny .......................................... 3561 Cedarbrook Road, Cleveland Heights 18, Ohio Kader, Mrs. joseph A ................ ............... 1 7611 Throckley Road, Shaker Heights 20, Ohio Kylin, Helen L ........................................ 2680 Scarborough Road, Cleveland Heights 18, Ohio Lafore, Ann ............................. ...................................................................................................................... D ormitory Lafore, Mrs. jules .............. ............................................................................................................................. D ormitory McCormick, Annette .................. 3363 Warrensville Center Road, Shaker Heights, Ohio McDougle, Ann ................... ....................................... 2 826 East 130th Street, Cleveland 20, Ohio Merrill, Edith .............................. ........... 1 8001 Shaker Boulevard, Shaker Heights 20, Ohio Metzger, Mrs. H. W ............ ...................................................... B righam Road, Gates Mills, Ohio Miller, Mrs. Charles ...... L.. .............................. 10610 Kinsman Road, Cleveland 4, Ohio Miller, Mary ................................. .................. 2 928 East 132nd Street, Cleveland 20, Ohio Mitchell, Mrs. R. B ............. .......................... 3 688 Traver Road, Shaker Heights 22, Ohio Nixon, Jessica ......................... .................................... 2 928 East 132nd Street, Cleveland, 20, Ohio Oviatt, Grace ...,................. ............. 2 237 South Overlook Road, Cleveland Heights 6, Ohio Owen, Mrs. Lewis ............... .......... 2 876 Fairmount Boulevard, Cleveland Heights 18, Ohio Patin, Mrs. Robert ............ ............................. 2 825 Ludlow Road, Shaker Heights 22, Ohio Phipps, Pollee .................. ................................................................................................................... D ormitory Reeve, Mildred ........ - ........... ................................................. R eeve Road, Willoughby, Ohio Salmon, Mrs. Smith ............... ..................................... 1 575 East 108th Street, Cleveland 6, Ohio Shenk, Barbara .................................................. 2914 Manchester Road, Shaker Heights 22, Ohio Simmons, Mrs. A. D ....... ............... 2 425 North Park Boulevard, Cleveland Heights 8, Ohio Sweeney, Catherine ........... ............................................................................................................................. D ormitory Thompson, Sally .....,............ ......................,............... 2 019 East 115th Street, Cleveland 6, Ohio VanHouten, Charlotte ........ .......................,.......... 2 826 East 130th Street, Cleveland 20, Ohio Wheeler, Nina ........................................................................ 1862 East 101st Street, Cleveland 6, Ohio Wilkin, Mrs. Kathryn .................. 2425 North Park Boulevard, Cleveland Heights 6, Ohio Young, Mrs. Emil .,...............,...,,...........,........., 3628 Cumings Road, Cleveland Heights 18, Ohio Hathaway Yirafwa Qfflamnae Uff.f0a'a!z'0a OFFICERS 1945 '46 President Mrs. Donald C. Adams .......,,..,,. .....,... Q Nancy Downer, I 335 7 Chelsea Drive First Vice President Mrs. Johann RypperdafWierdsma ............. ........... Q Emily Jane Mitchell, 22160 Fairmount Boulevard Second Vice President Mrs. jason Crain .................,....................................... .............. Q Frances Daoust, Shaker Boulevard, Chagrin Falls Secretary Mrs. Ivan F. Weidlein ...........................,.... ........... Q Eleanor Bartol, 21200 Claythorne Road Treasurer S Mrs. Kelvin Smith QEleanor Armstrong, 22099 Shaker Boulevard ALUMNAE. CCUNCIL Mrs. Ward Balkwill .................................,,,,,.,,.,,,.,..,,,,.,,.,......,,,,,.,.,,,, ,,,,,.,...,.,. 2740 Fairmount Boulevard Miss Elizabeth Bartol Q19195 2620 Kemper Road Mrs. Joseph E. Brown ,,.,,....,..,,,,,. 3346 Woodmere Drive Mrs. Ral h Come Mrs. Mrs Mrs Mrs Mrs Mrs. Mrs p y ...............,.............................. West Hill Drive Gates Mills 9 John A. Duncan ......,........,,,,.,,,,,,,,.....,,,.. 21000 Byron Road . Edmund Ingersoll ,,,,,,,,.,,,.,,,.,,,,,,,,,,,,,, 17728 Scottsdale Boulevard . Proctor J. Jones ,,,,.,,.,,,,,,,,,.,,,,,,,.,,,, 18 615 Shaker Boulevard . George B. Kennerdell ............... 2243 Elandon Drive . Charles F. Kling .............. 2749 Cranlyn Road Frank L. McFarlane ................. 2725 Inverness Road . Maxwell Norcross ........................ 3622 Sutherland Road Qjean Sharer QDOIIS Terry, ...........QPhyllis Joyce, QHelen Stephan, ...,.......QBetty Weber, QHilda Buckwell, QMarguerite Bradley, r QRenee McKee, , ,,............ QMargaret Sterling, Qlsahelle Woodford, 19345 19365 19305 19195 19175 19265 19365 19195 19275 19335 19355 19125 19325 19205 19225 ALUMNAE CUUNCIL Q 19444946 5 Mrs, Alfred Rankin ........................................................................... .......... Q Clara Taplin, 1934 3090 Fairmount Boulevard Mrs. R. H. Rodgers ...................................... ............ Q Virginia Witt, 1933 20014 Scottsdale Road Mrs. William C. Treuhaft ............... ........... Q Elizabeth Marting, 1922 19200 Shaker Boulevard Mrs. Graham T. Webster ............ L ...... .............. Q Martha Bole, exf34 3073 Fairfax Road ALUMNAE COUNCIL 1945f47 Mrs! Raymond Barker ......... ......... .......... Q M argaret Sprovvl, 1923 2724 Landon Road Mrs, William D. Cameron .................... ............... Q Laura johnson, 1938 22401 Shaker Boulevard ' I Mrs. George Curtiss ............................ ............. Q Mary Louise Brown, 1926 3687 Ingleside Road Mrs. William C. Daley .................................................... ........... Q Dorothy Robinson, 1932 Roundvvood Road, Chagrin Falls Mrs. William Feather, Jr .................................... ........... Sally Heedy, 1935 19815 North Park Boulevard Mrs. Baird Johnson ...............,,,....................... ........ ...QShirley Harrison, 1934 19412 Lomond Boulevard Mrs. Brooks Jones ....................................................... .......... Q Anne Kinder, 1940 Carpenter Road, Gates Mills Mrs. Herbert Ladds ,,,.,,..,,,,,,.,.,,,.,,.,,..,.,.,.,,,.,,.,,,,,.,,,.,.,. ........... Q Grace McBain, 1913 19910 South Woodland Road I Miss Frances Smith Q1940j 19856 Lake Road Miss Betty Vilas Q1938j 22500 Shelburne Road 5 Lu ', gl l 1, I 5 P I F :7 ,x,-, x E 3 YQ 1 xg W N, VE H354 1 'gf ' z A V, x 5. il Z x g , 3 1 r . 1 1 l , Y , L . I 1 . 1 Q. 3 3 Q 5 Y I E, 2 1 I I E I, il 1 X ,+ - M H ix .Q 1 Q1 U Qlf X fig . rv H ln 4 i fl A . f W4 P U Nl L-:fs wg . W ,V 5 4, if L - ,- . 1 5 f LH. . wl,',f.1u - Vyff W QWQQWWW fy ,Jr fwtflyuf? , iQ 'W7'ijf-,QQJP web? fjwmw WMU vjau A MMM WO L, ,fx if ' , ' 1 X X if 3, Jwwsgyykgpfyyijigjfxg jk I , U! 67 ,A f4Yf?f?,-:..4.,cffL,f ,,,, 1 qQg1,kgm,,,,g,J! If H nl .g,f?5x.fe..42....- 'i 2'74j?gQ1-,M Q one . QoJ.Jp,z9 YN '50 fy 155 Jxixloqay 195 QOX 00.0 4 Y NN 'o A A O ' J' YN Af ,O N459 .f1A go 0 7519- Fo 90 'K ,505 Q 74D5,'6, 0 Iuqxdf