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Page 51 text:
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TWG SIDES QF WINTER Everything was covered with a thick coat of snow. The fence-posts looked like ghosts that had forgotten to disappear during the night. The pine trees were drooping over and reminded one of old men with bended backs and long, flowing, white beards. The tall elms stood in all their glory, magnificently stretching their long white arms toward the sky. The clouds floating lazily along must have been covered with snow too, for they were of the purest white, a beautful sight to behold, gliding smoothly in the azure heavens. The sun peeked out from behind a cloud and made the icicles hang' ing on the roof glitter and glisten in the light. The roof itself was red and its graceful white slope had a sparkling beauty all its own. Soft snow drifts were leaning against the house, looking like huge heaps of pillows sprinkled with diamonds. On the win- dows jack Frost had painted fairy castles and little children had drawn pumpkin faces through them. In the house there was a large fire in the fireplace. It made the room warm and cozy and made the pumpkin on the window show a glowing smile. The baby gave gurgling sounds of delight when the flames leaped up towards the chimney and blinked at her. Chestnuts were sputtering and crackling on the hearth and marshmallows were being toasted on long forks. Inside it was a happy scene with the merry children and the glowing hearth, but outside there was dazzling majestic silence. HANDS Gnarled hands, covered with soot And the sweat of labor - Large fingers grasping Iron rods, Sinuous muscles - Expressing brutality. White hands, covered with cheap jewels and red coloring-1 Slim fingers drunkenly groping For the wine goblet, Harsh lines N- Expressing vulgarity. Pale, soft hands -- plain and Pure as snow M Graceful fingers Over ivory keys, Peacefully calm Expressing simplicity. slowly gliding BARBARA SPENCER ' 34 I51l MARJORIE PUGH '36 Second Prize SPRING STORM A gale of wind, A threatening cloud, A brilliant flash, And thunder loud. A storm passed by, A twinkling host, A silver disc For God to boast. EDNA ALLEN '34 MY DOG Brown eyes that gleam from a pointed face, A cold nose thrust in my hand, Pleading for walks by a wag of a tail, And a bark that I understand. BETTY ALLEN '36
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Page 50 text:
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apparent, except in one corner, where a cheap copy of The Laughing Cavalier hangs. The poor mother is protesting against the pawning of her last possession, the picture. Don't you see this picture has been with me all my life, through good times and bad, and that to pawn it would mean severance of the last tie that remains of my' childhood? I love the portrait more than anything I have ever owned, and to dispose of it would bring even worse discouragement and dispairf' With a lighter step the spirit returns to the home of the Wallace Collection, assured that somewhere his portrait has brought joy into a sad heart. The picture of The Laughing Cavalier still hangs there, with a smile for the foolish and the wise who pass by. That smile has been described as supercilious, but you know better, as I do. MARGARET THORNBERRY '34 Second Prize MY KITTEN . I never knew how much fun a kitten was until Puffy came to my house. She was only a little furry ball, weighing less than a pound. Her teeth were like tiny pieces of ivory and only a few of them were peeping through. Her tongue was so small it seemed to take her a long time to lap up her dinner of one tablespoon of milk. 'irfVAfter each meal, I love to watch her take her bath, especially her face washing. She uses first one paw and then the other as a washcloth, carefully licking a damp spot on the paw before each rub over her face. She seems so clean and dainty. Her days she spends in playing and sleeping. It is such fun to watch her play with the toys we have for her, a few marbles, a cotton mouse, a monkey, and a paper bag. I guess that she pretends that her toys are alive, because she is very serious in parts of her play. After she has crept up to a marble or her mouse, she pounces on it, then paws it about. Marbles knocking about in a paper bag are a deep mystery to her. She can hear them but can't see them. So she pushes the bag around the floor always peeping under it in hope of finding a marble. , When she hears me coming, she hides around a. corner and jumps out to frighten me. She arches her back as if she were very angry. Then when I jump at her she runs wildly across the room hoping that I will chase her. She is very much interested in watching the birds from the windows. Once when I had her out in the yard she climbed to the top of a tree after a bird, but of course the bird flew away. Then Puffy had a hard time getting down. She fell the last twenty feet, but the ground was soft and she did not hurt herself. Her favorite bed is on the window seat over a radiator, although at night she sleeps in her bed in the basement. MARY KNEIBLER, 7th Grade l50l
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Page 52 text:
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TRAVELS WIT!-I A SCOTTIE Captain McTavish and I grew tired of the humdrum life in New York so we drew out what money we had in the bank and set off to Europe where I intended to write a travel book. Captain didn't like the big steamer much, as we had bad weather going across and neither he nor anyone else could keep his footing. Consequently, being the smallest on the boat except for a very snooty Peke , he seemed always at the bottom of the pile! He finally settled this by hopping up on my bed. We went directly to London from Liverpool and ran into a typical London fog. I had some friends there and they were going to show us the sights. However, the whole time we were in London there was a dense fog and we couldn't see a thing. We took an aeroplane across the channel to Paris and as we took off Captain remarked, Aff arr wrr woof! which I knew meant, My, but I'm glad to get out of that dismal place! Even the dogs are cold and haughty! Shake, old timer! I said, and he gravely proffered his paw. We reached Paris without mishap and only stayed long enough to hire a donkey to carry our bundles on our trip through southern France. Captain didn't like French dogs either! Silly, vain things! he sniffed. The peasants we met along the way were very affable and kind though I couldn't understand what they said. Captain was uneasy. I don't like those jabbering idiots, he growled, I can't understand them. I calmed him down and when I invited one to lunch with me, by signs and gestures, he was quite friendly. That night we came to a very pretty village where I decided to stop as there was a nice hotel. After dinner we went for a stroll through the town. We saw numerous dogs and Captain seemed to be quite friendly with them until suddenly he leaped on a small Pomeranian that happened to be passing by with its owner! The owner started ejaculating wildly in French and I sternly commanded Cap' tain to stop. The battle ended as suddenly as it had started. The Pomeranian ran to its master yelping and Captain sat down and started licking his scratches. I tried to apologize to the owner but he didn't understand a work of English and I didn't under' stand French. However, it was evident that he was exceedingly angry so I decided to go back to the hotel. From the kindly innfkeeper who could speak English I learned that the man was the big shot of the town. In a few minutes the police chief came in and told me that he would have to shoot Captain for assulting a poor helpless dog. Hurridly I grabbed my baggage, called Captain, and ran out to the stable where I untied the donkey. The chief of police ran after us shouting and waving his gun. He didn't dare shoot because I held Captain in front of me. When I questioned Captain he said that the strange little dog had insulted him and called him a Yankee ruflian! We had a good time at a French monastery where we stayed for a week. The monks grew so fond of Captain that they cried when we left. However, that was the only place in all France in which we had a good time. BETTY BARDEN, Sth Grade l52l
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