Hillsdale School - Telescope Yearbook (Cincinnati, OH)

Text from Pages 1 - 72 of the 1952 volume:

We Seniors feel that this year is an important one in the history of our school, not only because it marks a quarter-century of existence, but because it is also an indication of years to come. We choose, therefore, not to cite any one individual, since this is everybody's year, but to dedicate this book, which is a representative of the school, to the next twenty-five years e to the Future. EDITORIAL Once there was a family of tadpoles who made their home in a tepid pool. One of the creatures was a dreamer, but he was also a doer. He said, in the language peculiar to tadpoles, I am weary, living in the water all the time. I shall go live on land. His friends protested, But you can't. Tadpoles don't live on land; they live in the water. It's unheard of. Surely you don't mean it. Why, you might even die . The little fellow said nothing and began his struggle to climb up on the bank. He strove for a very long time, pulling himself up a bit, slipping back, trying again. He stopped only long enough each day to eat and rest a bit. One day he discovered that he had developed hind legs. Soon he grew forelegs. He was now almost on the bank. Then at last he lost his tail which had been such a hindrance. He realized his moment had come, and he seemed to gather power and inspiration. Suddenly he iumped, he could now, you know, and there he was, on the bank! He had succeeded! At this moment it became clear to him that there was still a task before him. He must teach himself to live in such a world. And the little frog began to tail again. The little tadpole had increased in wisdom and stature in his labor; he was fit to begin a new task. Before he died, he had learned a great many things. We at Hillsdale are in a similar position this year. Namely, we have brought to a close the first twenty-five years of the life of our school; we have rung down the curtain on a successful production. .Now we must pause to consider what lies before us, just as the little frog had to do. Let us go to a theater, a circus, a rodeo, a musical, but let us go backstage. Here is not a world of illusion, watched by an audience in a mood to be entertained, but a world of realism watched by us in a mood to evaluate motives. Ambition, sincerity, elation, jealousy, disappointment, pathos, humor, adversity, success, fellowship; these are words to evaluate the qualities we will discover in the actors. We students at Hillsdale can claim these qualities too, inexperienced as we are. We should study the actors, though, and learn from them. A great actor is never satisfied with iust a successful performance. He is constantly criticising his technique and his achievements, in an effort to evaluate his faults and to improve himself. He knows that greatness and complacency are not companions. FLORENCE E. FESSENDEN Head Misfress ANNUAL BOARD Editor-in-Chief ............................................ Catherine Herzog Art Editor .............................................. Elizabeth Alexander Business Manager ............................................ Sally Leonard Literary Editors .......................... Anne Niemon, Virginia Bieser Photography Editor .............................................. Ann Beggs The Annual Board wishes to thank Miss Ferguson, Miss Carey, Miss Bach, Miss Shellberg, lna Backmun, Betsy Tucker and Julie Snow for their assistance in the production of this book. Senior Portraits by Harry A. Carlson Lithographed by Cincinnaii Lifhographing Co. ff President MARGARET BOWERS AULT THE TEMPEST - Shakespeare I will be cornespondenf to command, and do my spirifing gently. Vice-Presidenf ANN ROBERTSON ,,. ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA -- Shakespeare Z HAge cannot wiiher her, nor custom stale her infinite variety. NANCY BLANCHE ALOE THE BIBLE: Proverbs In her tongue is the law of Kindness. ELIZABETH ALEXANDER LOVE'S LABOR LOST Shakespeare The elegancy, facility, and golden cadence of poesy INA BACKMAN ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA - Shakespeare For her person If beggared a description. fab ANN CLOSS BEGGS MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING-Shakespeare lShd was wan? to speak plain and to the purpose. VIRGINIA BIESER EVERY MAN IN HIS OWN HUMOUR -- Ben Jonson It must be done like lightning. k :7 ZR CAROLYN CLIFTON BRAMAN SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER- Goldsmith The very pink of courfesy and circumspecfion ANN DeBAUN BROWNE THE RIVALS - Sheridan the very pine-apple of polifeness lESLlE SUE BUCKNER LOVE'S LABOR LOST-Shakespeare a mint of phrases in Merl brain BETH EWING BURCHENAI. KING LEAR - Shakespeare Jesters do off prove prophets. CONSTANCE ANN CASTLEBERRY AS YOU LIKE IT Shakespeare If is meat and drink to me to see a clown. JOAN COE CROCKER THE TEMPEST - Shakespeare O, brave new world, Thaf has such such people in'f. W AM a WGREACE KATHRYN DuBOlS 7 t,t'L ,' W06- W mm W V W. V M w g a c .. fag. EPICOENE - Jonson m Give me a look, give me a face,W C W That makes simplicity a grace. MW 91W M W K4 V36Q W W ' . WW 3:761? 414M PHOEBE IRELAND ESPY LOVE'S LABOR LOST- Shakespeare I am stabbed with laughter. NANCY ANN FULLER THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR-Shakespeare Dispense with trifles. LOIS JEAN GRAETER MEASURE FOR MEASURE -- Shakespeare ever precise in promise-keeping BARBARA ELIZABETH GREER HENRY Vlll Shakespeare The mirror of all courtesy MARY ANDERSON HINSCH LE MEDECIN MALGRE LUI-Moliere a wonderful talker N. I I gfi:?? $33$ CATHERINE LOUISE HERZOG MEASURE FOR MEASURE - Shakespeare I have no superfluous leisure. fy, , , I, x ,0 !' xIx O 4 x S30 KATHLEEN ELSWORTH HUWE HENRY IV.-- Shakespeare uA merry heart lives long AMELIA ELIZABETH KOTTE MEASURE FOR MEASURE Shakespeare The hand that hath made you fair hafh made you good. i i l SARAH ANNE LEONARD MEASURE FOR MEASURE Shakespeare What's mine is yours. JEAN ELDRIDGE MAESCHER LOVE'S LABOR LOST Shakespeare A light heart lives long. ANNE ALISON NIEMAN THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING EARNES'T Wilde HMemory is the diary fhaf we all carry abouf with us. JOAN PETZHOLD EPICOENE Jonson Still fo be neat, still to be dresf As you were going 1'0 a feast. VALERIE HARRIS RICHARDS THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR Shakespeare Better three hours too soon than a minute foo lafe. .L..-u...gn.m. w A 4 A j EMILY MEADE RICHARDSON AS YOU LIKE IT - Shakespeare a nimble wif PATRICIA JANE ROE TIMON OF ATHENS Shakespeare I am wealthy in my friends. A.., HELEN TAYLOR SCHROTH THE TEMPEST - Shakespeare I shall laugh myself to deafh. MARY ELEANOR VOGEL OTHELLO - Shakespeare She will sing the savagenesszouf of a bear. MARY ELIZABETH TUCKER AS YOU LIKE IT - Shakespeare Le! gentleness my sfrong enforcemenf be. Harry Oester is far from being merely a ianitor; he is a person who has been keenly interested in Hillsdale since he came here twentyethree years ago. Often he can be found walking up and down the halls gazing at the senior pictures,and, incredible as it may seem, actually remembering each girl by name. There could 'be no better proof of his devotion to the school. Moreover, his ability to do almost anything has always been a constant source of amazement. Yet, it is not to be wondered at since he has served in the army, worked on the railroad as an engineer, and even been a farmer. We pride our- selves in his constant interest in our doings and hope that of all his iobs, this has been his favorite! OTHER OUTSTANDING PRODUCTIONS A'The House Of Women e Hillsdale An Enemy Of The People e Posture Pictures T'Botfom Land -- Lower Field 'TBlood Money -- Annuul Subscriptions Good News -l Passed! HThe Belt - lf's Always Lost And 50 To Bed e H O'Clock Sunday Night Happy - Fridays Spring Song eThe Hum Of The Lawn Mower Paradise e Summer Vacation A Free Soul - No Homework Revelry eThe Miracle Play We Never Learn - 80 They Say 'TSalvafion -- The Bell The Silent House - During Exams Whispering Friends e Junior Study Hall Killers - Latin Declensions TSevenlh Heaven e Saturday Morning Sleep Margin For Error e Not Here IAMorning's At Seven - The Alarm Clock's Call The Skin Of Our Teeth - 60 It Sometimes Happens -- Seniors Win A Game The Fatal Weakness - Miss Godfrey's Desserts Wrong Number - - Miss Johnson's Reply Excess Baggage e Are You On My Diet List? Interference e Free Shot, Pinnies Ink e Don't Drop It On Mlle's Floor Take My Advice - Make Notes As You Go HYou Can't Take It With You e Notes To Exams Days Without End - School Until Holidays ChatterH e At Lunch Hour Gliffering MomenW e Clean Hair On Friday HDreclm Girl - Modeling An Attractive Frock The Crisis e Orals On Trial -- Honor Probation At The Cleaners e Our Uniforms, Of Course HShcxll She Let It Grow? -- Poodle Or Horse-Tail? White Dresses e The Junior's Thrill End OF Summer e Oh No! You Never Can Tell e Who Is the Winner Of The Song Contest? Skin - Clmbing Over The Burbed-Wire Fence In Pursuit Of A Baseball The Mob e Around The Bulletin Board When Tables Change As You Like If ... Hemline uEscape --- Graduation Tomorrow The World e Affer Graduation Yours Truly e The Senior Class E -- Blush Squeaks - Good Posture Peggy Sweeping Eyelashes Ina - Wasp Waist Beggsie Bow-knof Lips Ginny -- Eyebrows Carolyn - Widow's Peak Ann B. - Small Wrist Leslie -- Freckles Beth -- Curly Hair Connie Perpefuul Tun Nonie Nordic Coloring Grace - Raven Locks Phoebe - Turned-up Nose Nancy Tiny Ankles Lois - Tapering Fingernuils Barbara Deep Wave Catherine Delicate Features Mary Ann - High Cheek Bones Kathleen Little Feet Amelia Prome Sally Peaches and Cream Complexion Jeannie Ivory Skin Anne Graceful Hands Joannie Oval Face Valerie - High Forehead Emmy Dimples Annie Deep-sef Eyes Patty Small Hips Helen - Smile Betsy Perfect Teeth Maryel -- Sapphire-blue Eyes V . z I r r THE CAST IN LIGHTS FAMOUS LINES PROPS Alexander, Elizabeth E Oh, horrors! tons of toothpaste Aloe, Nancy Squeaks Hi! Just My Bill Ault, Margaret PeggY All of you all a fluffy pink bow g Backman, Ina Inc I have an outstanding idea! a Rose-Marie Reid g Beggs, Ann Beggsie Oh, Beggs Silver iewelry K Bieser; Virginia Ginny The thing is - artistic accessories Brumun, Carolyn Carol At Shortridge o DEXTrose sugar Browne, Ann Brownie Oh dear! slide rule g Buckner, Leslie Tessie Richard - sunglasses :. Burchenul, Beth Burch Here, here! laurel wreath :t Castleberry, Connie Cass Well! bald blinkers ? Crocker, Joan Nonie Oh you party poop! calomine DuBois, Grace Grace I'll never forget the day - sacred beelle Espy, Phoebe Feeble How Foul! German slumps Fuller, Nancy Nance Oh bilge! sophisticated swing Graefer, Lois Lewie Oh pooh! Venture ll Greer, Barbara Greer Oh, Diana! hotrod Herzog, Catherine Horse too many horse-tail i Hinsch, Mary Ann Hinsch Joanie Hinsch o membership in Nummy-Num Society f Huwe, Kathleen Huwe le's see shampoo l! Kotte, Amelia Kotfe Let me tell you o needle and thread ! Leonard, Sally leny Did you see any money here? the current news Maescher, Jean Jeannie How excruciating! lightning change Nieman, Anne Nieman You guessed it, chicken! cashmeres Petzhold, Joan Joanie Be good! a well-developed larynx Richards, Valerie Richards It was my understanding o the hearse Richardson, Emily Emmy And that's not all y powder puffs Robertson, Ann Annie Come on now! 6.6. Roe, Patricia Party Hi, chub! sporty style Schroth, Helen Schroth You know what I mean? infectious giggle I Tucker, Elizabeth Betsy Honestly! Bermuda shorts ' Vogel, Maryel Maryel 'rhey rhyme nimble fingers PROGRAM SCENE DISLIKES COMING ATTRACTIONS T.W.A. in a doctor's ottice everywhere the Broadmoor Mexico in the swim in her tin lizzie of Xavier corner in Alabama conducting the Glendale Quartet in a haze at Helen's in her tire-engine touring the T.P. cruising down the river Michelinda creating Northport on a cloud 1 i i t I 1 I t i l I I answering the phone in a crazy cuisine C.C.C. in bed by 9:30 Tennis Club Walnut Hills with Goldie-V chauFFering Portage Point in the SANDbox riding high on the run waiting soft-shell crabs small Honor list unfinished business short boys messy rooms men drivers bugs long distances Horse's horse-tail green beetles with sixteen legs straight skirts driving in the rain slow mails red hair nothing x and y parliamentary procedure great houses no-trespassing signs cats blow-outs tommy-guns and sharks dictators bon soirs being so naive cold feet M.H. females breaking her fingernails fiery tempers ringing of a phone clammy hands raising her own little alphabet Manager of Olympics orator Model for Henry Harris veterinarian Caricaturist owner of L. S. Ayres Atom-splitter Southern Mammy Good-Humor Girl Powder model Barber partner in Model Toys Co. blackSMlTH weight lifter Big Chief Hankie bridge shark Picatho Lexicographer illustrator for Poe fashion consultant foreign minister Cow girl Editor of True Confessions Hair stylist for French Pbodles efficiency expert woman wrestler Diplomat Air Line hostess friendly relations expert Bcby-sitter Metropolitan Opera Star f, r 1A , a v, E kt, xEZIiST ROW'L'iKe'ff tq right 3 Suzanne Pattison, Holly Humphrey, Nancy Parish, Lucy Thompson, Gwyneth I ;v. Q . QI , 3;, ,1 Pease. 5 l I w 3.3,. '3; ' ?CLASS ELEVEN 3 K K :h $ECOND ROW: KjiIIdy Elliott, Joy Lowman, Susan Scherr, Bunny Shore, President, Patsy Fox, 'Vice- I Q x ; 3 x I K' k Presidem: Louise Parrish, Susan Riggs r: ;- x i :? xv mIRD ROW'jBa3' I Schmidlupp, Judy Wiethe, Sandra Terry, Emilie Dana, Joyce Gill, Nancy McCaslin, g If x. fbk x3 Sophia ggrgjjbe, Delle Davies, Annie Richardson, Susan Avril, Jane White. ,k- : X x beRTH R :Marcia Highlands, Nancy Jane Hunt, Louise Jacobs, Sandra Marni, Ann Baxter, Nancy 3 31;; N '5 :3 ? McElroy Q 5:35 E V I3 iABSENT: ch Miller, Kitty Don Crone. .- I I x K F ; 3 K a E ,; x3 E4 O$xu ' 3 a K . E K 4. x ;3 1.3V x a a 3;. 349 x I i F: S? 3x33 3 t C ; 3: :j U x if 3:57;; K '- CL 3 5 V JR '3 '3 N i: CLASS TEN FIRST ROW: left fo right -- Diana Greer, President, Marilyn Berger, Vice-President. SECOND ROW: Ellen Caldwell, Connie Halversfudf, Lloyd Daugherty, Joan Hinsch, Louise Knuufl. THIRD ROW: Marcia Tucker, Dolly Berger, Winkie Martin, Jerry Seybolf, Mariorie Moreland, Carole Bow- man, Mary Jean Hewett. FOURTH ROW: Pennie Hull, Bradley Strauchen, Kufy Dohrmann, Helen Herzog, Annie Rittershofer. ABSENT: Anne Bafferberry, Libby Benedict, June Hummel, Jane Mitchell. g :2. 3 25 CLASS NINE FIRST ROW: Ieff f0 right Peggy Forker, Lisanna Wiley. SECOND ROW: Joanne Morgens, Julie Snow, Cynthia Cooper, Sylvia Frey, President, Leslie Bailey, Vice-Presidenl, Mary Tallenfire, Jacqueline Adams. THIRD ROW: Jane Hill, Jacqueline Pattison, Mary Elmes, Sally Klein, Jill Hallerman, Fritzi Fields, Jane Dummer, Sally Mayfield, Diane Clarke. FOURTH ROW: Marilyn Gay, Eleanor Vinke, Rosemary Cartwright, Arlene Schroeder, Lynn Fry, Betsy Dwight. ABSENT: Barbara McElroy, Louise Ritchey. CLASS EIGHT FIRST ROW: Ieff to right - Francesca King, Roberta DunviIIe, Janie Ames. SECOND ROW: Lucy Howard, Carolyn Hummel, Linda Halversiadf, Nancy Hogan, President, Mary Sue Hannah, Lucky McCalmonf, Martha Nichols. THIRD ROW: Nancy Maescher, Nu'ralie Bosworih, Ann McDowel, Cynthia Taylor, Ann Schmidlapp, Carolyn Huwe, Cecile Drucke'rf. FOURTH ROW: Nancy Floyd, Garrie Blaine, Helen PreHyman, Louise Atkins, Jane Slemmer, Christie Barnard. ABSENT: Barbara Knauff, Linda Aloe, Sally Sfurm, Patty Davis, Patricia Terrill, Vice President. 4' ;2.'. .;. ....-- p. CLASS SEVEN FIRST ROW: left to righf -- Patty Herron, Marianne Hasfie, Betty Wiehe. b SECOND ROW: Mary Slade Martin, Brent Randolph, Judy Hauser, Naomi Tucker, Susan Sieman, Jane Mills, Patsy Palmer. THIRD ROW: Ann Wentworth, Meanne Mashburn, Betsy Alexander, Elinor Scherr, Christie Muir, DeAnne Schroeder, Eleanor Davis. FOURTH ROW: Susan Foster, Margaret Parlin, Anne Gray, Debbie Gail, Sally Hatfield. ABSENT: Jane Hauensfein, Glenna McClain, Sally McGuire, Carolyn Edwards, Anita Graf, Mimi LeBlond, Diane Tiefig. STUDENT COUNCIL FIRST ROW: Annie Robertson, Vice-Pres. of Student Council; Diana Greer, Pres. of Class 10; Marilyn Berger, Vice- Pres. of Class 10; Peggy Aulf, Pres. of Student Council. SECOND ROW: Patsy Fox, Vice-Pres. of Class H; Nancy Hogan, Pres. of Class 8; Sylvia Frey, Pres. of Class 9,- Leslie Bailey, Vice-Pres. of Class 9; Judy Hauser, Vice-Pres. of Class 7,- Bunny Shore, Pres. of Class 11. ABSENT: Diane Tietig, Pres. Class Seven, First Semester, Naomi Tucker, Pres. Class Seven, Second Semester, Mimi LeBlondeice-Pres. Class Seven, Second Semester. A. A. COUNCIL FIRST ROW: Jerry Seybolt, Elinor Scherr, Annie Rittershofer. SECOND ROW: Puffy Roe, Green Team Captain, Cynthia Taylor, Beth Burchenal, President of the Athletic Associ- ation, Nancy McCaslin, Secretary-Treasurer, Emily Richardson, Captain of the Gold Team. THIRD ROW: Sally Klein, Assistant Captain of the Green Team, Naomi Tucker, Lucy Howard, Arlene Schroeder, Susan Avril, Betsy Dwight, Assistant Captain of the Gold Team. ABSENT: Diane Tiefig, Susan Sfeman, Class 7 representatives Second Semesferl. ANNUAL BOARD Leff to righf: Anne Nieman, Ann Beggs, Catherine Herzog, Elizabeth Alexander, Virginia Bieser. ABSENT: Sully Leonard. Xi COMMITTEE HEADRS FIRST ROW: Valerie Richards, Connie Castleberry, Grace DuBois, Marshal CommiHee. SECOND ROW: Barbara Greer, Nancy Fuller, Leslie Buckner, Office Comminee; Befsy Tucker, Lois Graefer, Library Committee; Jeanne Maescher, Ina Backman, Art Committee; Maryel Vogel, Music Committee. STANDING: Amelia Kotte, Joan Petzhold, Joan Crocker, Ann Browne, Mary Ann Hinsch, Service Committee; Nancy Aloe, Music Commiftee. ABSENT: Kathleen Huwe, Art Committee; Phoebe Espy, Music Committee; Helen Schroih, Carolyn Braman, Service Committee. THE GREATEST CIVIL WAR Every country has had its civil war; most Americans think of the war of 1861 which preserved the Union but I think of My Civil War. This great conflict which occurred during the year 1945, 1946, was waged between a young lady of twelve and five experienced gen- erals of the teaching profession. Just as in any other war, each side had several advantages. First the lone gladiator had to her credit a record of six years during which time she had succeeded in becoming merely literate. In addition she had a stubborn resistance to work, and she had that wonderful ability to let alien sound waves float in one ear and out the other without disturbing the auditory nerve. s It would be superfluous to enumerate the quali- FIcations ot the enemy, for because of the fact that they all had been successfully engaged in their occupation for at least a decade, one can be assured that they were adept in every new military tactic, and had had experience in iust such encounters. The obiect of the staff in this war was to open the mind of the young lady to commu- nication, while it was her intention to maintain an impenetrable blockade. Having stated the issue at stake, we must now review the incidents of this life and death struggle which was divided into five campaigns, the battle fields being science, history, mathematics, French, and English. On the first battle field we find the young lady ahead, for in spite of the fact that she was challenged to read a whole book on elementary science, she succeeded not only in getting a high average but at the same time in keeping her book as pure and unstained as when it was issued. In fact so easily had she succeeded in attaining a victory in this cam- paign, she felt that the other four would be certain defeats for her enemies. How wrong she was, for when she attempted to use the llclosed-book method of learning French vocabulary, her grades declined. This was also true of history, and she finally had to admit that reinforce- ments were necessary in the form at a few extra hours of study. Arithmetic even at such a low level had its headaches. The inexperienced commander found that she could not conduct this battle in a slipshod manner, for her casualties kept adding up to the wrong sum. Con- fronted with weakening lines on tour tronts, she resisted to the end, that is, the first marking period. As in the War between the States, this war was followed by a reconstruction period, probably not as full of vengeance although its effects were far reaching. Yes, it had been quite a struggle, but the five generals had crushed the blockade, penetrated the brain, and even interested the spirit with the novelty of learning. Anne NiemaneClass l2 A MIDDAY INTERRUPTION HUp e going Up, called the operator in her customary monotone. There hastened into the elevator a short thick-set man of about torty-five with a grad- ually receding ring of white hair. He was easily classed as a college professor because his trousers were iust a little too long, he carried a leather briefcase, wore glasses, and had a countenance portraying humor as welt as intelligence. Immediately following him come a woman of medium height, weH-dressed, and looking about thirty-five. She had c1 generally forbidding countenance and everything seemed forbid- ding as she came toward the elevator with her stiff, proper, walk. Very close behind and almost walking up her back, came a little colored girl, clutching a package almost as big as herself. She had two black braids a foot long hanging down her back, an oval face with a wide nose and mouth, and deep-set, very large and very curious eyes. Then come 0 man-ot-the-world, striding along in typical college-boy fashion with trousers baggy at the knees, crepe-soled, squeaky shoes, plain grey overcoat, and a bright maroon hat. Express to seventh floor e- going up. No one else. The operator closed the door, and as she turned the handle around, the elevator started with a dizzy jerk and rose slowly, ierking slightly every once in a while. Dead silence except for the hum of the elevator going up the shaft and an occasional click as the little lights registering the Hoors, blinked on and OH. The dim overhead light cost shadows over everyone and these combined with the silence, and the forbidding woman gave the whole car an unpleasant aspect. Hmmmm e click! Hmmmm - click! The elevator gave a ierk ond s'lowed noticeably. Hmmmm e click! Sixth floor. Hmmmm - ierk! and the elevator stopped. The oper- ator moved the handle once e- twice - nothing happened. HWhere are we? from the little colored girl. 'iBetween the sixth and seventh floors, answered the operator. At that time a voice come down the shaft from seemingly miles above, You all right? Yes, what happened? i'The electric generator in the basement broke. You'll have to wait down there about twenty minutes while it's getting fixed. All right, the operator called back up. The door above closed, sending an eerie rumbling, down the shaft. The presence of the strange lady discouraged everyone from starting a general conversation. The professor, for- getting everyone else, sat down on the floor, took out his briefcase and started to grade some papers, half the time muttering to himself and the other half thinking, 'iOh, that Barnes! He'll never amount to anything! Look at this paper! Ah, here's Clyde's usual good work. Nice boy, Clyde. Oh, Anton, sorry boy, it's just the opposite. You do try so hard though, it's a shame! The lady's thoughts were probably something like this, l'Oh, the nerve! Keeping ME waiting like this! And with THESE people! I'll sue! l'When I get back to the fraternity house I'll really have a story to tell! l was supposed to be there Fifteen minutes ago! Oh, when I get back! thought the man-of-the-world. The little girl was sitting on her box in another corner. Mommy, I'm scared! There's a nasty big lady here who is very silent and cold and that little man iust sits in the corner and mutters to himself. Oooh, Mommy! The rattling of the door overhead was heard as it bounced echo after echo down the shaft. l'Almost Fixed, iust a little longer. Everything all right? Yes. The door rattled shut again. Everyone was getting sleepy and restless. The air was close and humid. The dim light overhead was beginning to burn out its battery and flickered now and then. This made It seem as it the floor and walls and ceiling were moving in and out ein and out. HMommy, I'm scared! HOh, when I get back! '1' sue! Oh, McGilligan, what a paper! Again, miles up, the door rumbled open and a voice called, 'lAlI Fixed! Try the handle! Hlt's fine! Coming up! Hmmmmm - click! SIGNS Rabbits in their nests are stirring, Hens are being urged to lay, Expectant children count the hours Till the dawn of Easter Day. Pasteboard rabbits in the windows, Jelly beans in a crystal jar, Painted eggs arranged in baskets, Are signs that Easter Day's not far. Easter eggs are smashed and broken, Halt the jelly beans are downed; The chocolate rabbit's ears are missing, e Signs that Easter's been around. Betty Wiehe - Class 7 Julie Snow - Class 9 OCTOBER October days are here at last, The summer days now are past. The trees are taking color high, Like a rainbow in the sky. South the birds are on their way, We won't see them till next May. Squirrels are scampering up the trees, Storing food for their families. October is a lovely time To sit and dream and make a rhyme. Jane Hauenstein e Class 7 NO ADMITTANCE We started down the long driveway, passed the low red buildings of the grade school and walked on toward the bus stop. At the end at the driveway Susan read the large wooden sign, l'St. Agnes Episcopal School For Girls, Alexandria, Virginiat'. After waiting for what seemed hours for a bus, we saw one marked Mt. Vernon, and the three of us got on. It was quite crowded, but near the back we saw some seats and dashed to get them. As we sat down, Carolyn started talking away a mile a minute, about various unimportant things, while Susan sat and took it all in. Susan was a beautiful girl, with blond hair and blue eyes and was one of my very best friends. Her father was exceedingly wealthy and lived in a large house with a swimming pool and three cars, about thirty miles away. As her mother decided that it was too much trouble to bring her all the way to school every morning, Susan boarded at St. Agnes where Carolyn and l were day students. l saw that Carolyn and Susan had taken out their Mariner Scout Handbooks, and seemed to be thoroughly engrossed in them. Have you learned those distress signals? I asked. 'll learned mine last night, and it took me hours. HI don't know how I'm ever going to learn them , answered Carolyn. We don't have the test ltill Monday though. Just then a woman who was sitting across from us, turned and stared at Susan. Susan seemed to sense the stare, but as she looked up the woman quickly turned away. Golly , said Susan, that woman gives me the creeps. She looks so malevolent and sinister . l'Those beady eyes turn my stomach. Carolyn added. She probably recognized you from your picture in the paper yesterday , I said to Susan. She seemed comforted and relaxed. The bus moved along busy King St. and then turned clown by the river onto the Mount Vernon Memorial Highway. The countryside was lovely along the Potomac. On the left was a glorious view of the river, beautiful trees, and green grass going down to the banks. We arrived at Mount Vernon, and after going through the turnstile walked up the well kept gravel path. l'Look, herets the gate and the back of the house , I said, but lets look around the grounds first . Susan had never been to Mount Vernon before although she lived comparatively near it. She was very impressed by the beautiful flower beds and fruit trees. l'Oh look , cried Carolyn, there's a little sign on this tree that says that it was bearing fruit when George Washington lived here . Just think how old it must be , said Susan. We noticed the woman who had stared at Susan an the bus, at one end of the garden talking earnestly to her companion. Her eyes seemed to follow us wherever we went. Next we went around to the front of the house. What a gorgeous view of the Po- tomacll' exclaimed Susan. The Washingtons could sit out on their front porch and watch the boats go by. Look at that breeze-way going from the house to that other building , said Susan, What's that for? HWell , I explained, the other building is the kitchen and when it rained, the food was kept dry by the root. That building to the left of the kitchen is the carriage house, and there are some wonderful old carriages in there . HLet's go down and see the tombs of Martha and George Washington , said Carolyn. HThey're built right into the side of a hill. After making a thorough inspection of the grounds, Carolyn, Susan, and I decided to visit the houses, so we ioined a group of people, two of whom, we noticed, were the strange woman and her companion. This is an Aubusson rug , said the guide. i'lt was given to George Washington as a present from the French and has the seal of the United States on it. Look at the beautiful paneling and the mahogany furniture , said Susan. I can hardly believe it was used so many years ago by the Washingtons. HHere's the dining room , I said. Take a look at that carved ceiling, and the silver and china. I'd certainly love to have that when I get married . The bedrooms on the second floor were lovely. There were four poster beds with testers, and we noticed one in particular because the big bed had a trundle bed underneath it, and We had never seen one before. In the hallway was a narrow staircase to the third floor with a sign in front of it that read, No Admittance . HI have an idea , said Carolyn, Let's fall behind the group and go up those stairs. I'm dying to .know what's up there . 'lWe'lI be just like Nancy Drew, in the Mystery of the Hidden Staircase , said Susan. I love adventures. Sixteen, and she still reads Nancy Drew books , I said with a smile, and a guilty look came over Susan's face. There wasn't anything else to read , she said. Oh, come on , said Carolyn. Let's hurry, before someone comes. Mind if we ioin you? said a voice. Oh! I said, you scared me . I was surprised to see that it was that woman again and her companion. I nudged Susan. Maybe we shouldn't go Up after all , said Carolyn with a guilty conscience. It's all right , said the woman, HWe know one of the guides. By the way, I'm Marcia Williams, and this is my husband, Frank . We introduced ourselves politely and went up the stairs. When we reached the top, Mr. Williams suddenly turned on us. If you girls will quietly back into that room, your lives may be spared. At First I thought he was kidding, but when I looked, I saw he had a small toy-like gun in his hand, whose metal gleamed. Suddenly I felt like fainting, but I decided this was not the time nor the place. Terror gripped my heart as I thought about what was happening, and a helpless feeling came over me. I knew there was nothing I could do, with a gun in Mr. Williams' hand; but what was going to happen to us I could not guess. Just then Susan opened her mouth to scream and was immediately slapped full in the face by Mrs. Williams. i'Why you brutel'l I said, comforting Susan. I'Shut up girlie , said Mrs. Williams, uor I'll give you the same thing . We did as Mr. Williams had said and backed into a room which seemed to be filled with furniture and iunk. I saw Mr. Williams' eyes dart around the room and come to rest on a pile of rope in a corner. HThis will do very nicely , he said, and to our horror he began to tie us up. llWhat are you going to do with Us? Carolyn asked timidly. The couple looked at each other and gave an ugly laugh. We figure we can get a pretty good ransom tor Blondie here , Mrs. Williams said. HWe recognized her from her picture in the paper yesterday. We'll be back after dark to get you. There, that should hold 'em , said Mr. Williams, After I gag 'em, we'll be all set . The man and woman left; we were alone. Itelt a hard lump in my throat. I glanced at Susan who was tied to a chair a few feet away. Tears ran down her cheek, and her gag was bloody where Mrs. Williams had struck her. She told me later that she wished her father was as poor as a church mouse. Carolyn was not crying, but she looked pea green. I won- dered how I looked, but I knew that it I looked as bad as I felt, I would be a ghastly sight. I kept thinking about all the horrible ways there were to die and then discarded them for tear of breaking down. The sun was streaming in the window right into my eyes. I twisted my head back and forth because the sun was really blinding me. Finally I shut my eyes and began to think. I realized that one of my hands was not tied as securely as the other, and then it dawned on me. The sun was the answer. It I could get one hand tree, and get the mirror out ot my purse, I could put into use those distress signals I had learned. There were two maior prob- lems, however. First, since it was late in the afternoon, I wondered how long it would be be- fore the sun would go down, and it I could get my hand tree before it set. Secondly, would anyone see my singnals? I began to think of what would happen when those people came back and shivered at every thought. The distress signals were the only possible solution. We were too high up to yell, even it we could get our gags tree, and we were too for away from the window to try to attract attention. I tlgured I had at least torty-tive minutes before the sun went down, and started twisting and pulling to see it I could get my hand tree. I could feel my hand getting sorer and sorer, and then the skin began to rub oft. It stung more with each pull, but it this did not work I couldn't even think about what would.happen. Just then I noticed the sun. It was getting lower and lower. I pulled harder but it didn't seem to be doing any good. I began to be panicky but kept pulling. K'Listen Frank, this is pretty risky business. It's dark out here, and it the watchman catches us we'll be dead ducks. Quit gripin', I got everything planned. It'II come out 0. K. Here's the door. Now be quiet when you unlock it. You're the one that's making all the noise. Shut up and light the flashlight so we can find our way, and for heaven's sake, Marcia, will you please take oft those high heels? You sound like an elephant. Oh shut up, now be careful, here are the stairs. They do creak. O.K., were on the second floor, and down the hall is the stairway to the third. HI know, I know. Let's hurry and get the girls, I'm gettin' scared. That's a woman for ya, I never should have let you come. Now open the dOOr. HHey! Someone turned on the lights. HThe cops! Let's beat it. HStop or I'll shoot. Don't shoot, we give up. HO.K. Mulligan, take over. The Lieutenant handchted the kidnapers and took them away. We spent the night at our house that night and the next morning were terribly excited when a reporter came and took pictures of us and asked us questions. I'm John Espy at The Washington Post , said the reporter. HWould you mind telling me how you attracted attention and got out of the room? uJulie here is the one that did it , said Susan, Let her tell you . Well , I began, turning slightly red, I knew that we had to get out of that room or we would probably be killed, because I've read stories about people who have been kid- naped, and nine-tenths of the time they don't come out alive. Well, anyway, the sun was shining right in my eyes, and I suddenly had an idea. You see we're all Mariner Scouts and have iust Finished learning how to give distress signals. Mrs. Williams had thoughtfully put my purse in my lap, and I figured that it I could get one hand tree, reach in my purse and get out my mirror, I could signal an S. O. 5., and maybe someone might see the signals . 'llt happened that a sailor was walking down the driveway at the back of the house to get a bus home when he turned to get a last look at the house. He noticed that the sun was shining on the windows, and then noticed that one of the third floor windows looked dilterent from the rest. Since he was in the Navy, he knew distress signals, and as he looked more closely, he discovered my S. O. S. He ran and got the guard who led him to us. How did the police know when the kidnapers were going to come back? asked Mr. Espy. They told us they'd come back to get us after dark , said Susan, 'lso the cops waited around till they came . 'lLieutenant Mulligan said Mrs. Williams nearly fainted from the shock , said Carolyn. l'You've been a great help , said the reporter. I'll see that this story gets on the front page. Now, how about another picture? Lloyd DoughertyeClass l0 TENSES Past e school days stability Present e graduation uncertainty Future -- college obscurity Grace DuBois-Class l2 THE GARDEN Pale yellow and pink roses climbed the tall, rough, brick wall which surrounded a lovely old garden. A path run between the beds of beautiful flowers and curved past a marble fountain which sprayed high into the air, dropping iewelled mist back upon its dancing figures. The iTowers nodded in the delicate warm breeze. The air was full with the music of the song-birds and the heavy scent of the opening buds. Hazy white clouds drifted lazily through the sky. Wrought iron benches were placed beneath large shady trees whose leaves rustled in the playful breeze. Spring had come and all of nature welcomed her lovely touch. Meanne Moshburn -Class 7 IN COMES THE NEW! The clangoring of church bells struggling to be heard, The shrill whistle of the river boat piercing the night with its distant cry, Elbowing mosses fighting for a foothold Crushing strogglers in darkened doorways Excitement! Eagerness! Expectancy!- Everywhere. Bar room glasses clinkingeemptied and refilled, Glimmering lights, hilarious laughter, Sobriety.a This . . . is New Year's eve! The raucous horn, the impish hat, The noisemaker, shrieking sirens split the pulsing atmosphere. And then . . . once again . It's here! Midnight! Gone! Above the tumultuous roar sweetly Hoot Pure strains of a Scottish melody Setting hearts and minds a-tingle. Here a merry heart; there a sad one But everywhere e A sense of joy. Dull spirits rise e Hope is freshened Anew! Annie Rittershoter-Class TO HELLO SPRING! IT'S IN SPRING I welcome thee. You see a grey dove Your magic key In the sky above Unlocks to me And hear young love A whole new world. Lough softly below. Your shining face You see a brown doe And warm embrace Walk where you know Of the human race She has no toe Brings hope to all. And you just watch her. Mary Eleanor VogerCIoss I2 HEARD OUTSIDE THE ENGLISH ROOM IApoligies to Mr. SheridonI . . . Laconicolly, my sister was a child progeny, a real ineffectual, the pine-opple of scholarship! I was iust talking to teacher, and she told me that my writing is ineligible and that one would almost think me to be obliterate. I am not even worth the intuition that my parents pay! However, such a case is not unusual in this quuacity; the disease seems to be contiguous. At first I laughed mysehc into hydrostatics, but then she said she would not give me an accommodation for college, and unfortunately she has very much attluence. It would be a real apostrophe if I were not excepted. l must make my vocabulary ineFFable, but some- how l iust cannot reprehend how to do it. Listing the perpendiculars, she said I must not misuse big words, for that sounds artful and supercilious. After paralyzing my work, she made me a preposition. It I study Iicentiously, she will give me her replete resistance. Still, there is no rush. Tonight I shall bevel. Who is going to exhort you to the dance? E. Alexander - Class 12 THE HOUR OF DOOM 'IFebruory twentieth, Five PM. Just an hour, iust a day o to most people. However, these few words written on a businesslike card haunt my mind with fierce intensity as I try to sleep. It is the nineteenth of February. I turn on the light and look once again at the clock. Eleven-ten! I really must get to sleep. But now, in my mind's eye, I see a man. He is surely small and unassuming. He is even smiling, but suddenly his smile changes to 0 dia- bolicol grin and I shudder. What have I done to deserve this horrible tote? Perhaps it is no fault of mine, but hereditary. Or is it self-indulgence that is to blame? Immediately, resolu- tions fill my thoughts. However, it is too late. I must remember to ask for clemency - a shot of novocaine when I face that man at Five o'clock tomorrow - that man o the dentist!! Sylvia Frey; Class 9 SOME ENCHANTED EVENING . . . We met in a roomful of noisy laughing people. I had never seen him before, but I noticed him the moment he come through the door. He saw me, too, and as our eyes met, his seemed to light up, and he almost smiled. He was very handsome, one of the handsomest fellows I had ever seen. He had black hair and searching black eyes which appeared to see even into my heart. I wanted to call to him, but I didn't quite dare. I guess he understood, because he came over and sat down beside me. He didn't say anything, iust looked at me. Wemust have sat there for several minutes, neither of us saying a word. But suddenly a woman's voice called, and he sprang up, wogged his tail, barked a friendly farewell and was gone through the crowd. Louise Ritcheye Class 9 THE HERALD OF WINTER The wind moans sadly through silhouetted pines, A cloud scuds across the moon; Far oft, on the hill, a lone dog whines. Then, rings out the weird shriek of 0 Icon. The road gleams dully as it winds around the hill As the stars retTect down on its dust, Once again all is silenbe, and the night grows chill e The harvest moon is the color of rust. Yet the silence becomes deeper and more intense And the night seems foreboding and still, The wind whips dry leaves from under a fence, Through the blackness a new shriek sends a Chill. 80 on through the night till breaking of day The ominous Ioon cries his warning. Though with the coming of dawn the world becomes guy, The shriek of that bird tells me of winter and storming. Sondra Marni -- Class H CHAMPION AT LAST No, absolutely not! , Mark Warrington almost shouted as he pounded his fist on a table in his hotel suite in Sun Valley. I simply can't undertake such a proiect when the boy's not good enough. Now you know that's not true , argued Mac McDowell. Why only Iastweek he won the lumping event here, and he'd be sure to take the Olympic crown too if he only had your financial backing. 'IPIease Mr. Warrington'l, chimed in Jimmy Barns, the boy in question. He was an at- tractive blond youth, slight in stature, of about twenty years. A chance at the big champion- ships is what I've been working for all my life. Now that I have the opportunity I can't let it slip away, and you're the only one I know of who can help me. The sportswriters are even saying that hes every bit as good a skier as you used to be. Why not give the kid a break? Enraged at this last remark, Mark suddenly turned away from his visitors and wheeled himself to the window. From there he had a clear view of the surrounding mountains gleam- ing with powdered snow. And there in the foreground of the exquisite panorama was the ski iump. As good as I? Never! , he thought to himself. Staring at the scene before him in moody silence, he let his mind revert to the previous year. The setting had been the same except that he had been out there instead of sitting quietly in his hotel room. It was the day of the Sun Valley championships, and he was to compete with the best ski-iumpers in the country. He remembered the sun glistening on the snow, almost blinding him even through his dark glasses. Once again he heard the deaf- ening applause of the crowd below as each man took his turn at the jump. Some of them had performed beautifully, some had fallen, and he recalled a slight feeling of pity for one who had broken his leg when landing. Suddenly, it was his turn, the last man in the competition. As he took his position at the top, his heart leaped to his throat. What if something goes wrong, and I lose my bal- ance? Suppose my timing is off? Oh, how stupid of me! This is what I've been practicing for years. It's iust a routine iump. t He took a deep breath and plummeted down the slope as the spectators watched in hushed expectation. All at once there was no ground beneath him, and he was soaring through the air. Then he felt the familiar rush of air burning his face and saw the earth come leaping up to meet him. It was all over. The tumult in his ears was the sound of cheers from the crowd. Pho- tographers were snapping his picture, and people were hastening to slap him on the back and shake his hand. He felt giddy, and it took him several minutes to realize he had iust won the big event of the year. This victory meant a chance in the Olympics, just what he had been striving, living for. Why , he gasped, that must be exactly how Jimmy feels now . He then remembered with an aching heart how the tragedy in his life had struck. He had been practicing, trying to better his record. A few days later one of his skis had hit a rock carelessly left in the course. He had no recollection of what had happened after that until he awoke in the white hospital bed. Suddenly he had stiftened and almost screamed, Doc- tor, my legs, I can't feel them! I'm sorry son, he answered. It's an injury to the spine. You're paralyzed from the waist down. That was how it had happened. That was why he was sitting in this room in a wheel- chair when he ought to be out there. Just then a thought struck him. Why, I'm iealous, jealous of that boy who can have now what I have always wanted. Why not help him? If he wins the Olympics, wouldn't it be almost like winning it myself? Slowly, Mark turned back to the two who were eagerly awaiting his answer. All right, Jimmy boy, I'll do it. Nancy Fuller-Class 12 THE STRANGE RIDE It was one of the few cool days last summer when this strange experience happened. I was teaching a riding lesson on the trails of Daly Woods, which is about four miles from the stables. All of the girls knew how to ride a little, but one seemed to be frightened. As we were riding down a slope, I noticed this girl slipping from her saddle, but before I could reach her she was on the ground and the horse was crashing through the brush at a tremendous rate of speed for an old horse. I gave a slight chase, but I couIcI not follow the white mare's trail. After going back to the rest of the girls, I helped the extra one mount the back of my horse, and we started for the stables at a very slow pace. A slight rest and a fresh horse were all I needed to set me for the hunt. After searching severaI hours without success, I noticed that it was rapidly becoming dark and scary in the woods. I was iust ready to give up the chase when I heard something behind me. As I walked, it walked, too. I started to canter, again it followed me at the same rate of speed, being caretul to stay out of sight. I then stopped only to find that it had stopped, too. The more I thought about this monster, the more frightened I became. As a last resort I started to gallop still hearing it crashing after me. Gathering up the Iast of my courage, I stopped suddenly and wheeled my horse. The old white mare came into view, probably as glad to see me as I was to see her. I grabbed her bridle and started back to the stables with a look of triumph in my eye that only the conquerer can have. Ann BaxtereCIass II A THUNDERSHOWER A sudden streak of lightning split the sky. Just a fiash and then 'twas gone, But in its wake, as it in seething anger At the haughty stroke across the heavens, Came a distant rumble,- nearer, louder, and still nearer, Until the hills echoed and tossed back The temptestuous anger to the doors of the firmament Mild as a newborn babe, the raindrops Crept along the horizon making a transparent sheet. The moving wall approached As heaven's rivers flooded and overtiowed into space. Another daring dart of brilliance across the sky; Great booming thunder bounced between hills, And the rain, a mighty torrent, Gushed forth and swelled the tumult. Marcia Tuckere Class IO THE FAMILY TREE A rather mangy-Iooking animated member of the feline group was the start of it all. I shall never forget the evening when my parents and I returned from a visit to a farm .. not alone! If one had looked carefully on the tioor of the back seat, one might have seen two large shining eyes shrinking in the corner. But not for long! Before my mother and I couId move a muscle, a charming gray striped kitten was leaping through the car to the choicest position in the front seat, my father's shoulder. After barely avoiding a few ditches, poles, and oncoming vehicIes, Daddy managed to pull over to the curb and disentangle himself from this mass of fur and claws. The rest of the drive home was made safely with Mother ex- erting much power to keep the little monster employed in the posterior regions of the car. Around the time of Beverly's arrival, two other new personalities made their appear- ance at our house. They were a new maid, Bertha, and my niece, Marnie. The three were to have a close but rather short association. One day, my sister and mother went down town, leaving the above-mentioned anne together. That was the first mistake! The second fol- lowed presently when Bertha, having run Marnie's bath water and stripped the child to dia- pers, undershirt, shoes, and socks, left her charge in the bathroom while she answered the untimely ringing of the telephone. Upon returning, she could not at first discover the where- abouts of the child. However, she was not long in the dark, for a giggle, followed by a piercing noise, directed her eyes to the bathtub where she saw Marnie, clothed as before, sitting in the water gripping the kitten with one hand and washing it with the other. That, I fear, was the beginning of the end of the triumvirate. The next day found the inhabitants of the house the same, but the setting changed from the bathroom to the kitchen. Bertha was removing a beautiful lemon meringue pie from the oven while Marnie and Bev were enioying themselves with a ball of yarn. Again the disastrous sound of the telephone! Yes, this time poor Bertha found them both sitting on the kitchen tabIe, their faces proving their guilt by profound coatings of lemon fiIIing and meringue. Did I say the beginning of the end? Not so, the next day found Bertha making her exit, suit- case in hand. After the return of our household to normal, that is the departure of both Marnie and Bertha, Bev grew up in 'peace with a comparatively small amount of mischief. As the years went on, Bev presented us with an increasing number of offspring for which we found good homes. However, the thirty-eighth foundIing was not much in demand, and we were obliged to keep him. He was named Snow-Use, the first part prompted by his coloring and the entire meaning referring to his hopIessness both in appearance and disposition. Mother and son were inseparable throughout the spring and summer until one day in early fall when they failed to come to our calls announcing dinner. We never did find the companions but a fond memory of the first and last of a fruitful family tree will occupy a large portion of our hearts for many a year to come. Joyce Gill e Class I I A COMING STORM The breaking waves dosh high on the stormy oceon shore, and the cold wet spray hits your face as you walk along the gray water's edge with the crunching sand under your bare feet. Your hair is snapped and blown like clothes drying in a breeze. Above you, the dark sky grows threatening as the great clouds huddle together as if seeking protection. You pull your sweater closely around you, and the strong wind sends a coldness through your fingertips. The murmur of the rushing water and the crashing woves shut you off from all other sound, and the whitecops stretch upward reaching for the sky. You feel clone and free. But as you gaze at the heaven, it grows more angry, and you head homeword in thought while rain lightly kisses your cheek. Lucky McColmont-e Class 8 THE FUNERAL OF A KING Drown through the streets of London is the cottin of a king; Bells toll in the distance, Britons weep to hear them ring. Four royal dukes walk slowly down the crowded street, A daughter and a loving wife ride while the drummers beat. A mother by a window is watching the sod display Of her second son's lost iourney through the noisy way. The skies are dark and dreary, the sun behind a cloud, And the day is cold and bitter; o shiver runs through the crowd. There are delegates and royalty from lands both tor and near,- They have come to pay their homage to a man the world held dear. The procession arrives at the station and is met by the funeral train; George the Sixth leaves London never to return again. The procession reaches Windsor; everyone bows his head. Each subiect says a silent prayer in memory of the dead. lnto Saint Georges Chapel is carried the royal bier Of the king who led his country through hardship and fear. The hymns are sadly sung, the prayers solemnly said. The two orchbishops then come forth; the burial service is read. As the coffin is slowly lowered into the waiting crypt, A brave and queenly daughter stands silent and tight-lipped. The funeral service is over, and all disappear from sight. Then out of the mourntul skies breaks forth a hopeful ray of light! May this new queen so brighten her realm in a long and happy reign That England sholl grow strong 'and prosperous and never know want again! Emilie Dona -Closs ll GRASS-ROOTS THEATER There is something about the mystic world beyond the foot lights that causes all who see a finished play to hope and dream that they too might be part of this exciting occupa- tion. To them it is all glamor; they watch entranced while a beautiful heroine is passionately embraced by the handsomest of men. These finished actors and actresses, however, were once part of the stage-struck masses, but instead of dreaming, they worked to realize their dreams. Most are products of Summer Stock. This magical phrase, according to a dictionary, means, an organization of actors producing dramatic compositions , but this is a dry definition, and l'Summer Stock is as exciting as it is exhausting. It takes place where even the most sage learn, if not about acting techniques, then about the people themselves. Let us take a look into this seemingly mysterious world which is, in reality, no different from any camp specializing in one subiect, though much more chaotic and hectic. Most summer theaters are in old barns, with the shop attached. Here, where cows once lowed contentedly, Shakespeare's Hamlet shouts, and in the converted harness room the Forest of Arden drips green paint. The fresh smell of newly-cut timber fills one's nostrils, mixed with the penetrating odors of glue and point. In the semi-gloom, one can see the gela- tin box spread on the floor, the brilliant colors ready to be slipped in front of any size light from 'lspots to lekos that are hanging on the rack, a dimmer being rewired on stage, the floor strewn with nuts, screws and nails. Flats are being recanvassed in one corner. Abstract shapes of houses are being put together to the steady pounding of the hammer, interrupted once or twice by loud cries of pain. There is no time for rest here; each person has a dead- line. This scrim spread on the floor must be transformed into a painted forest by ten tonight; that parallel must be a balcony by five this afternoon; in the tar corner a chicken-wired two- by-four must be a tree in an hour. Throughout the dimness, the supreme power of the elec- tric saw reigns predominant. The strident noise, which penetrates one's very inner self, con- tinues all day in sharp retorts. Hand and coping saws are small compeition for this mechan- ical beast. Actors and actresses wander through the confusion mumbling lines or stop to knock a persistent nail into a chair or bed. More often than not, most of the crew working to finish Upholstering a couch or swinging precariously from the flies to secure a light, have leads in the night's performance. The one sitting solemnly in the corner is not the main lead nervously going over his lines, but the head of the light crew or the i'prop man going over in his mind his cues. Each has his part, great or small; each part is important. Whether it is pulling the billowing curtain across the scene or turning the page for the musician, each puller and turner is irreplaceable, and the thundering applause will be for him also. From the maze of intricate cat-walks high in the flies to the verdant grass covering the grounds outside, all is bustling with activity. Many a costume is well-worn and patched; many a board is warped with age and eaten by termites. Even the light cases are battered and rusty, but to the audience the magic prevails. It is the actors and actresses who, with the aid of talent and concentration, are able to motivate the feeling of kings and princes tor the audiences, though they know that their elbows will soon come through the sleeves of their regal gowns, and that their thrones are rickety chairs covered in unbleached muslin. Such familiar scenes throughout the New England states in the summers repeat in a small way one of the basic ideas upon which America was built; the ability to work and make something out of almost nothing. The plays of Moliere and Fry acted on the floor of a cow- barn in rough hand-sewn costumes are compa rable, on a small scale, to the hacking of homes and freedom out of a wilderness to make America. Lynne Martin -Class 10 NED I have a brother. In fact I have two brothers, but the subject of this little opus is Ned, the elder. He is tall, unusually well-built for a lad of ten, and quite passably good-looking. Un- fortunately, he has a marked tendency toward Sloppy Joe shirts and blue ieans worn out at the knee. He has sky-blue eyes which never lack a mischievous twinkle, and this twinkle sometimes changes to a fiendish gleam as he invents new ways to torment Jimmy and me. The aforementioned gleam and his unruly shock of brown hair give him an oddly comical appearance. Now about the hair. It hangs on his forehead in a tangled mass, except for the three tufts at the back which stand cockily at three different angles. Ned is a dynamo of energy. On sunny days he is outdoors all day long playing Cap- tain Video, Master of Space, Hero of Electronics! Billy Dunlap, the boy next door, is a sin- ister character called Dr. Klizmok, and poor Jimmy is ever the little man who stays home at the l'Secret Mountain Retreat and tunes in the scanner. This is a devilishly clever little device which takes one back into the days of cowboys and Indians, and lets one see the daring and heroic deeds of the reckless men of the plains. At this point, Ned and Billy miraculously turn into the Range-Busters. This is all very fine, for it keeps them out of the way, but on rainy days, all we can do is lock our doors and pray for good weather. Ned roams the house, yelling at the top of his lungs, banging on the piano, and generally creating havoc in the household. He has a most annoying habit of making weird and ridiculous noises and silly grim- aces, and shocking all with his frightful table manners. Emily Post would have a heart attack if she could see him using his knife and fork, and I do not believe he actually kno'ws that the proper place for his napkin is in his lap, and not sprawled on the table with one corner in the gravy and the other in the butter. Ned has a passion for making strange noises. The last time he went into one of his spells, our cook ran screaming outside. She thought it was a Martian attack. lncidentally, this account is not far-fetched as she is an ardent devotee of cheap science-tiction. Mother says his condition is only temporary; he is going over l'Fools' Hill . It is my private opinion that he is stuck in a hole on top of it. There is a serious side to the boy, however. He is mechanically-minded and can fix anything that does not require a new part. Useful as this may sound, it is sometimes a trial to the rest at us. For instance, once when my uncle was visiting us, we began to have trouble with the television set. The picture was doing a hula, and Uncle George, confident that he could fix it, began pulling at the wires in the back. Then the sound went dead. Twenty minutes later, Uncle George, with a somewhat higher blood pressure, regarded the thing as beyond repair. Just then Ned came in and took in the whole situation at a glance. With an air of scornful condescension, he made a few cleft movements among the maze of wires, and presto! the picture and the sound returned perfectly, and Ned announced clearly and distinctly, uYou should have called me. You almost ruined it . Poor Uncle George looked as it he were about to explode, but he could not say anything because Ned was perfectly right. He is also very emotional. The other day the dog brought home a dead possum, and for some strange reason, Ned was inconsolable. That afternoon he and Billy squatted in front of a small flre in the woods, cremating the poor creature. Then its ashes were carefully shoveled into a hole in the ground, and the two solemnly sang The Tennessee Waltz ,e that being the only song they knew from start to finish. Also, Ned is eager to shoot squirrels with his bow and arrow, but it and when he gets one, he is unhappy about it, and we hold burial services. At present there are four graves in the back yard, including that of the possum. . My brother is very independent; he will not allow anything to be done for him. It con- fronted with a problem, he will decline all otters of assistance and will work until he solves it. This is also evidence of his stubborness, which sometimes drives me slightly mad. But I will say that he is one boy who has the courage of his convictions. All in all, Ned is a pretty fine boy, and I am proud to be related to him. P8. All characters and incidents in this story are fictitious, and any resemblance to characters living or dead is purely coincidental. Jody Morgens - Class 9 LEST WE FORGET Now, as I am approaching the ripe old age of eighteen, I often find myself looking back to the good old days of my childhood when life, in general, was so much simpler. To think that l was never distressed by any weighty, worldwide problems of Communism, Exams, Graduation or Entrance into that number one college. Instead, those bygone clays seemed to be ones of sunshine and laziness mingled with jumping rope, playing nhouse or riding my tricycle. Yet, at the time, these games were quite serious and what now would be consid- ered insignificant then presented puzzling, grave and often frightening problems. One of the most profound mysteries which confronted me as soon as I could walk and talk was that of the Hhidden Easter eggs . Every Easter, my brother, sister and I went over to my grandparents' home where a strange, if not unique, Easter egg hunt took place. In the afternoon, we, being heavily fortified with large wicker baskets, would proceed to trot all over the yard, searching in rock gardens, by trees, and under piles of leaves for the gifts which that miraculous bunny always left us. HOWever, when we produced our loot before our elders, they would shake their heads in dismay and declare that we had not even found halt the eggs. I would always exclaim with an uncomprehending shake of the head that we had looked in every possible nook and cranny. But no, there were more to be found and so, emptying our booty into a large pile, we would trot 0H again on the scent. It always mysti- fied me to find an eggin a spot where five minutes ago there had not been one at all. Hav- ing a rather limited mind, I never asked questions, and the mystery was not solved until a few years ago when my parents informed me that they used to hide the same eggs over and over again, and that while we were searching in the front yard, they Were hiding them in the back yard. No wonder we could hardly walk at the end of those hunts! About this time, I began to know the tear of the hobgoblins and witches that lurked in the house after dark. Most outstanding was the beast, something like the wolf in Red Riding Hood, which crouched under my bed and waited for me to come near to it. Much of the time before I went to bed was spent in thinking of a way in which to outwit this enemy, for to walk straight to the side of the bed meant that I would certainly be eaten. Finally, I de- vised a plan which, without fail, always saved me from destruction. All I had to do was to leap from my doorway onto the bed, of course, not without a quick prayer that I would land in the right place. In this way, the carnivorous beast could not even so much as snap at my feet as I flew by, and eventually he would die of starvation. Gradually, this potent enemy faded into the background, and I actually became ab- sorbed in horror movies like I'Frankenstein and ilThe Wolf Man . However, I was not iust anyone looking at a movie, I was actually the terrorized victim in the story, for each time the villain came on the stage, I would let out a blood-curdling yell. One movie that I saw was quite unusual as well as imaginative, for the murderer was in the form of two hands which reached through a wall to strangle their sleeping victim. These bloody hands so frightened me that as soon as they appeared, I, with a shriek, would throw my coat over my head and ask my neighbor in muttled sobs to inform me when they were gone. After they disap- peared, I would disengage myself and continue to watch the film as if nothing had hape pened. More often than not, I was plagued with nightmares. Once, after I had seen a grip- ping film entitled i'The Black Cat , l awakened in the middle of the night to see on my bookcase an obiect which seemed to have two pointed ears and, to my horror, was black. Afraid that it would iump on me if I'Called out or made any movement to escape, I pulled all the covers over my head and piled the pillow on top, leaving only two eyes, round as saucers, peering out from beneath. The cold gray light of dawn revealed to me that the ap- parition was not a cat but a birthday present, a little square purse! Yes, after living through such harrowing experiences and, amazingly enough, after sur- viving them, I am convinced that at least a small part of the I'strife is o'er and that no battles I fight can ever be more perplexing than those were to me. There truly is hope, though I still have my doubts at times. Virginia Bieser-Class 12 4.. ninth? . Illulp. ALMA MATER Deep in the hearts of a hundred girls One word, Hillsdale, is scrolled, Symbol of courage and steadfast love There to cherish and hold. Words meaning sacrifice, friendship and health Confidence, honor and frufh, Alma Mater leading us on Building ideals of youth, Alma Mater leading us on Building ideals of youth. I