Hunter College High School - Argus Yearbook (New York, NY)

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At last mounted, I had a chance to look around. At first sight the head of the beast appeared the longest part, but lol when I turned about, the tail apparently stretched many more miles to the rear than the head to the fore. My aunt, however, began at once to lead the horse around the field. Ah! thought I-this horseback riding is easy! The next day I rode alone, and my aunt on her horse beside me. My own mount could not have eaten for weeks, judging by the effect on his appetite made by the lovely green lawn on each side of the path. He made a bolt for the nearest front lawn, and proceeded to see how much he could consume before being, summoned to his work. My aunt was unable to get off her horse to come to my rescue, for the front lawn, if, she rode over to me, would be ill-treated by the hoofs of four additional feet. Calling out to me pull that bridle! she saw my horse career around in a circle and return to the favored business in hand. Vlfhen I pulled the opposite bridle, the animal set his trademark on all possible parts of the lawn, and even attempted to mount the front porch. At this I rebelled. It was too much! But before I did something desperate, my aunt persuaded a passer-by to hold her horse, and came over to manage mine herself. Before the day had ended, however, my beast had twirled on his hind legs like a ballet dancer, showing utter disregard for me nearly sliding off his tail, had dashed madly for a brook, suddenly dropping his head to drink, while I almost pitched over his nose, and as we approached the stable, had galloped all the way home. Deep in my heart, I did not blame the animal for his hurry to lose me. CHAPTER V HSCHOOLDAYS, SCHOOLDAYS- My sixth year of school I spent in Nevada, where we had the principal as teacher for both 6A and 6B, in the same room. She was a nice lady, except for certain f avoritisms. Her favorite boy, for instance, sat behind meg and when one day I wore a certain dress with buttons all down the back and sleeves, this lad slowly pulled every button off my dress. Though I was out and out mad, the teacher said kindly, Is that nice, Arthur? , and proceeded with the lesson. In all matters pertaining to the East, I became, in Nevada, an authority. One teacher, raving over the Palisades, described them as huge trees turned to stone. To me she turned to verify that. I rejoined Yes , because I couldn't think what else to say, and not because I agreed. One fact remains to be told, as to why grammar is to me among the mysteries of knowledge. In the year of our introduction to the subject, we had a teacher who was a Bermuda fan . She had been there the preceding summer, with the result that all we heard was Bermuda, Bermuda, Bermuda. Whenever Miss B. sat in the high chair, called for a glass of water, and settled herself to speak, we knew it would concern Bermuda. We, however, would take out storybooks, and read while she talked to the air, of Bermuda. And so when the fifth year had ended, we were acquainted but vaguely with three grammatical names: noun, verb, adjective. End of Volume I Page Eighty

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tendance that day, a hurried exclamation: Sorry, kiddies, but you'll have to walk from the stable, I have a funeral on at one o'clock, and it's now half-past twelve. Plainly we said that we didn't care for walking home, whereupon John agreed to take us home in a funeral coach. When mother, anxious because we had not yet arrived, looked out of the window, she beheld her two children proudly stepping out of a funeral coach, each with a balloon in one hand and a candy box in the other. Old John no longer drives the children, a large motor bus takes them to and from Sunday School. And what has become of the old friendly coachman, no one knows. CHAPTER IV SPORTS AND THIS AND THAT The rain was pouring down in sheets, splashing as it struck the ground. Two children, engulfed in heavy black raincoats, rubber boots and rain hats trudged slowly up Murray Hill, Flushing. Their short arms were filled with bundles, dripping wet where they were exposed to the rain. Half way up the hill, one of the paper bags in the younger child's arms went rolling into the mud, spilling a dozen breakfast rolls into all available puddles. Nevertheless, the children bent over, picked up the rolls, stuffed them into pockets, and proceeded slowly homeward. I was that younger child, aged four, and learning that minute what a disgusted expression on my brother's face could convey as to the uselessness of a girl- I also remember with great distinctness the day when brother decided to make a tennis court. Yards and yards of string he collected, and instead of white paint, used this to plan out the court. We tried it out. All went well until, chasing the ball, I tripped over the string and pulled the whole court apart. Then, from brother, a long and wordy speech about girls. But to get on to the sport of sports, horseback-riding. When a very small child, I was given my first merry-go-round trip on a gaily prancing horse. From that day I loved horses, until years later I was allowed to throw a leg over the saddle of a real horse. In that first riding-lesson went my aunt's shining black boots and jockey cap, my brother's shirt and tie, my sister's gloves, my own treasured breeches, and the help of all the family combined. I knew all about the correct way to mount, and was prepared to surprise all with this superior knowledge of horsemanship. Unfortunately, as the animal was very tall, I had to submit to standing on the kitchen chair while mother held the stirrup and my aunt the bridle. From this undignified perch I awkardly threw a leg over the restless, dancing horse. No sooner was I nicely settled than I discovered myself on backwards. The horse and I went for a ride in op- posite directions. As this would never do, and one of us would eventually give in, I wasted no time in argument, but quickly slid down to the kitchen chair. The next attempt was more successful, except that the horse, becom- ing bored, walked off and left me posed precariously with one leg in the air. Page S eventy-nine

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STRICTLY CONFIDENTIAL It is the infancy of Dorothy Berger, A3, that is recorded in Chapter I of our unique 'ccomposite biography. Alice Herzig of F4, contributed Chapter II. Ilza Berry of Bg3 recalls in Chapter III her Hnintimate friend at school, and Marie Sklenar of B3 commemorates Old John the Coachman. Marjorie Rothwell has regaled D3 with varied anecdotes from her youth- ful biography. fChap. IVJ Eleanor Straehl remembers more grammar ,than those Bermuda lessons would lead one to expect. fD3j :sf Pk :If Pk af :sc Alice Kalousclian wrote her lovely poem to the Unknown Soldier while at Washington during the senior trip. Bernice Stamilman of Ag8, who contributes the interview with Jessica Drag- onette, intends to devote her life to music. Sarah Leflerman of A8 wrote the Hokku, which is a Japanese form of verse, for the Spring Poetry Festival. , LAST MINUTE DISPATCH Hunter 'wins first prize and three other awards at the inter-high school French Contest. At the annual inter-high school French Contest given under the auspices of the Society of French Teachers in America in cooperation with the Cen- tral Committee cf French Societies in New York, in which 125 candidates from 30 high schools took part, Hunter students received the following awards: First Prize fgold medall: ALICE KALOUSDIAN f silver medaljz GERTRUDE F EIT fsilver medalj: VIRGINIA CARGIULO Qbronze medaljz DAISY KATZ Page Eighty-one