The Illman School - Span Yearbook (Philadelphia, PA)

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THE ILLMAN SCHOOL AN IMPRESSION OIF' A MUOD A mood is a queer intangible something-that something that either makes one feel that he is living or merely existing. There is that mood that comes at times that makes one cheer- ful, happy, courageous and even adventurous. That is ulivingf' Then, often there comes stealing in the magnetic mood of retiring from work, slouching,-giving up. That is exist- ing, Interest in everything is lost when yielding to the don,t caren mood that is especially apparent in spring. In such a care-free mood, one heeds to no trouble, worry, annoyance, anxiety or anything of the like. While under the spell of a happy-go-lucky mood, everything is met with a smile, for there is no such thing as trouble. However, in a flash, such a mood is gone and soon an uneasy, restless mood creeps in which causes one to become annoyed by almost anything, wearisome, and harassing. This mysterious something, a mood, changes one so that in the morning he may feel that his heart is wrinkling like an old man's forehead, but by night it is smooth again, smooth and clear. I have my moods of stern resolveg I'm master of my fate, I know. These moods don't change my life at all- It's very nice to have them thoughf' E. FLORENCE LINDSLEY. BLUE When you have reached that state in which you can really be blue, not blue in the sense of being low-spirited, but just blue. Oh, to be like the blue of the sky at twilight, alive and feeling, yet dreamy and distant. There is a deep feeling of oneness when you are blue like the sky, a oneness which is found only when lost in distanceg lost in space. The feel of blue is like cooling night, after a hor day, it breathes of the music of the whirling planets, of rivers of gentle moonlight, of stars and stars, thousands of them, flung over all. It carries you beyond and beyond until all sense of being is gone, all consciousness lost. You are like a blue star, revolving through space, travelling without chart, without destination. You are a part of all past, present, and future-you are blue! MAY C. LOWER. Page Seventy

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THE SPAN-1931 HAPPTNIESS Lost-the art of happiness, which was crushed into many pieces and tossed to the four winds. Perhaps, as you travel the highways and byways of life you will find it again. We are all searching for it, each in his own manner, but only a very few find any of its flowers. It is strange for the flowers of happiness are many. They grow along the pathways which we all must follow. Gather happiness as you journey on, for it is scattered in many places. There is no large field at the end of the road where these flowers are found in abundance, where we can gather as many as we desire. Then, live in happiness ever after. Now is the time for happiness-today, this hour. Around us on every side are the flowers. We need only to see, recognize, and gather these humble blossomsg remembering always, that the flowers of happiness which yield the most joy are those which are shared with another. He who is selhsh can never be truly happy. Whether it be the happiness of wealth, friendship, beauty, or love, there must be someone to share it with, if the joy is to be complete. Happiness is fundamental. Upon it depends the life of every person. Love is happiness, friendship is happinessg beauty is happiness, life is happiness. Who would, if they could, live without it? Is it not good to be alivel The joy of living fills one with the desire to dog to actg to achieve. What? Happiness, and more happiness! Take it within your hands, hold it gently, all the while breathing in the sweet lingering fragrance of its blossoms. Then with a happy smile place it in the hands of another. lVlAY C. LOWER. BEAUTY Beauty--to define it Is like trying to imprison With mere words The matchless glory of the sunset's hte, The crystal clearness of the trembling dewg Or the keen ecstasy of far-borne wind. DOROTHY NELLIS. Page Sixty-nine

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THE SPAN-1931 OI-Il Someone related a very strange tale to me the other day. And this is what it was: Fortieth and Baltimore Avenue had never seemed very unusual to me until about a week ago. But from then on it has always reminded me of one of the most curious incidents of my life. I was walking along in a peaceful mood when, suddenly, out of an alleyway came at least twenty girls running at top speed. They raced right across the street and disappeared into the door of a drug store. 'An accident,' I thought. But nol By the time I had reached the alleyway, all of them came running back. They were an odd sight indeed-coats half on, hats on the back of their heads and millions-yes, millions of I-Iydroxes in their hands. Per- haps they had just missed their breakfasts. But where were they going? 'I'll follow them,' I said to myself. By the time I had reached the doorway into which they had disappeared, there was not a soul in sight. All that was in evidence was a bench, a table, a clock, and two bulletin boards. The latter were covered with papers on which were written 'Will the following girls please see me immediately? But there was a hallway on my right. I decided to explore it. Ah, there were my twenty girls all jammed into a little room and screaming, 'Oh, it's out' or 'I-Iere's forty cents for four days and I didn't even read it.' I left there very quickly and thought Iid try the second floor. just then a bell rang. I was pushed up the stairs by an angry mob only to have two doors slammed in my face. Luckily they had windows in them and I could, at least, watch. But what a sight to meet my eyesl There was a girl sitting in a circle with perhaps ten other girls and she was asking them the most absurd questions about a very foolish picture she was holding in her hand. 'What is the little girl looking at? Yes, a dolly. I know a lovely story about a dolly. Would you like to hear it?' At their excited cries of 'Yes,' she began: 'I've a dear little dolly, she has eyes of bright blue-' This was really quite enough. Perhaps the third floor would be better. But a stranger sight was yet to appear. Through one of the doors I saw a lady standing before another group of girls and she was-now can you believe it?-she was sticking her tongue out at them. Not only that but she was making faces and uttering queer sounds. I really didn't know what kind of a place this could be. And in the next room-this is the oddest of all-stood another lady in front of another group of girls. And she was telling them-really seriously telling them-the story of the Three Billy Goats Gruff. Imagine telling grown girls-truly grown- up girls-about three billy goats. This was a strange place indeed! I ran quickly down to the first Hoot and saw two doors there I had missed. I looked in one-and really I almost believe I was dreaming-for there were more girls-really grown- up ones again-playing fno, you wonit believe itj Farmer in the Dell. Actually-playing- Farmer-in-the-Dell. This was no place for me. just as I was about to leave, that bell rang again and I was pushed out of the door and down the steps. As I was trying to pick my poor, bewildered self up from the pavement, twenty, thirty, forty girls rushed at top speed past me and ran down the alleyf, LAURA ELIZABETH SAussER. Page Seventy-one