Kentucky Home School for Girls - Pandaisia Yearbook (Louisville, KY)

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Whoppers P ON the side of a mountain, is il lodge. It is only made of rustic logs, but it serves its purpose very satis- factorily. Every Saturday morning, bright and early, you can see cars driving up the steep, winding road which leads to the lodge. Not very far from it, is a stream which is very good for fishing. This lodge was used by the fishermen as a clubhouse, and during the day, the mem- bers would fish and bring what they had caught to the lodge and have it for supper, what was left they would take home. In the evening after a hard day playing, all the men would sit around the fireplace in the lodge and tell stories of one kind or another. One night one of them was telling of a fish l1e had caught while deep-sea fishing in the Pacific the summer before. Now, as he was telling of the proportions 'of the fish, one of the men happened to glance on the wall of the well-furnished clubhouse and his eyes were glazed with horror! What was it he saw? He didnit utter a sound, but arose from his chair and quietly walked over to the wall at which he had been look- ing, reached up and took a painting down and tiptoed outside. One of the other men who was watching this strange ceremony, quietly asked the man next to him what was going on. HDon7t you know who that painting was of ?,' HWhy, no, who?7' 'aWhy, that was a picture of George Wash- ingtonf, A Dorothy Von Allrnen, '42 Impressions in a Dark Room What Develops Here? A black camera, A camera day, lA small green roll. The dusky basement, A dripping sink, Twisting, squinting, sprawling, snapping, Mixing, shaking, stirring, smelling, A big brown bottle. A round black box, Complete darkness, Trembling, swearing, developing, hoping, The startling light. A purring cat, The leaky pipe, Vffashinff swashinfr s uttering, fixing, DV D7 D D A dripping negative. Oh, Rats! There's nothing on it! Twenty Peggy Shelley, '42

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Country Lyle HE ground was hard, the trees bare, and the air sharp as a razor. The country lay in dull stillness. It was the time of year that you wished you could go to the city and live in the nice warm comfort that city life brought. There, the houses were close together and you couldnlt look around and see the cold landscape that surrounded you, when you lived on a farm. Poor Jackie wanted to leave home. Every- thing there was so dull and cold. Slowly he went through his tasks of milking the cows and feeding the chickens and carrying out the numerous other duties of farm-boys. Soon all were completed and he stole up to the hayloft to try to soothe his troubled mind, but the hay was cold and damp and be could feel the air piercing its way through the gaps in the barn wall. Soon his mother called him in to the house for his supper, and after he had consumed a rather large and very excellent meal, he went over to the fireplace and settled down to read his lessons for the next day. At first he felt that he was just reading words, not even his homework was interesting, but nevertheless The Kindest Person CCENTRIC? Yes, some people describe lake as eccentric, though, certainly not I. To me, he is the kindest, most gen- erous down-to-earth human being I have ever known. It may seem peculiar to you that an old darky, tall and stooped, with weary, sleepy eyes and snow-colored hair, could possibly have had such rare and fine qualities. Nevertheless, he did. My memories of him are as old as I am. When I took my first tottering steps and learned words other than Dada and Mama, ,lake was there. Jake delighted in retelling the complete story of my father's life, and likewise, I de- lighted in hearing. Particularly, the time father punched the neighbor's boy and sent him home with a bloody nose. Time and again, I sat at the foot of ,Iake's old rocker, breathlessly listening to my favorite story. he kept to his task. Then, like a flash, some- thing struck-the words registered on his mind. Before, he had tried to concentrate, but now he was interested. Why was it that not till now had he got anything from read- ing? The story was about Abraham Lincoln and told of how he had lived as a boy. It told of the log-cabin and of his reading by the fire- place to educate himself and told of his life in the country. Here at last was something vital. It wasnit till then, that country life suddenly became exciting. Abraham lived on a farm, surely it is good enough for me, thought Jackie, and Lincoln had been Pres- ident. The idea of reading about an historical figure and having his life like his own sud- denly took hold of Iackieis imagination. From then on you couldn't drag Jackie off the farm to live in a city, from then on only sissies lived in a city and the dull stillness of the farm suddenly glowed with brightness, for at that moment the sun showed itself from behind the grey clouds and the wind was al- ways warmer, Dorothy Von Allrnen, '42 Foe Ever Known Perhaps the reason ,lake and I got along so well was the fact that I was no child in his estimation. In his presence, I was sud- denly transformed from a small girl to a perfectly normal adult. It was easy to tell Jake things that I had kept within me for fear of how others would take them. It was the spring that we looked forward to with enthusiasm and animation, because it was then, we could plant our seeds and care for them. We like chrysanthemums best, large, golden ones! Now in the spring when I walk near the chrysanthemums shooting up from the ground, I see silhouetted against the setting sun, an old darky, slightly stooped, gazing with pride upon his treasures of gold. Annie Laurie Ham, ,42 Nineteen

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Bon HE hot, blue flames flickered among the red ashes, and slithered in and out of the hollow logs and around the dried branches. The cold air touched the flames and turned them from blue to yellow talons that leaped into the air like fingers grasping at the cold. The live sparks, with a resounding crackle would shoot out like the spray from a foun- tain and scatter upward to the sky, some died as soon as they met the freezing air, others went further up before they faded out, and several flew so high they seemed to join T8 the bright stars in the heavens. The only difference was that the permanent stars were a cold white while the sparks looked like gold nuggets on a black velvet background. Whiffs of smoke puffed out into the air and rose to the sky like gray snow clouds. The snow glistened in the light from the fire and formed a sparkling coverlet for the slop- ing landscape which stretched out cold and white under the brilliant light of the full moon that ruled over the whole scene like a majestic king. Janet Gore, 7,2 A Secret Visit I HE shutters were open and the windows were thrown wide as the primroses had timidly popped their heads in the room along with the sun shine. The bright morning air and its clean smells came in and filled the room with an atmosphere typical of a spring morning. The eggs were ready on the table, and the toast was crisp and soaked in butter beside the steaming black coffee. It was a wonderful April day, and the breakfast table looked trim and neat beside the open window. A few of the roses had been plucked and were floating in a glass bowl in the center of the table set for two. . . The clock on the mantle was merrily ticking away and when the hands slowly crept up on seven, it sent forth a dimmed chime that barely reached the four corners of the morn- ing room. A few muffled sounds were heard overhead and a faint voice called someone. Several seconds later the door opposite us opened and my fellow robin and I flew from the window sill into the morning sky. Ray H ikes, 542 I Saw I saw the wind that blew the birds Across the wintry sky, It whistled through the mighty trees, As wild it blew on high. I saw the rain so cold and wet, Dreary as could beg It made the day so sad without And did the same to me. I saw the sun caress the grassg I heard it hush the airg It spread the purple world with gold, To banish every care. foyce Garibaldi, 91,2 Twenty-one