Latin School of Chicago - Sigillum Yearbook (Chicago, IL)

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August'I'l Kousoffky, County of Borosna, State ofchirnegev. Anuta: I'lasten awayl Soldiers of the Czar are in the village and are keeping close watch on our estate. You are known, you must escape. MYRA I-Iotel Marin Igausanrge, Switzerlgnd eptem eriQ, 'l9'I Dear Greataunt, I hope you have not worried about me. I sent Paul B. to you in the guise of a hungry peasant to say that I am safe. My activities had been successful, and I was unknown, when, somehow, twelve of our members were discovered and executed. In the middle of' the night paul B. pounded on my door and shouted, 'fbscapel We are known. Dressed as a hunchbacked old peasant woman, I drove o cart piled high with hay to Nezhin, where I was to seek the hut of Uncle Peter. I-lis wife would hide me. I rode all night at a snail's pace, and just as white streaks began to appear in the sky, I saw a hut-athen, another' rand gradually the town came into sight as the light increased. My relief was indescribable. But so was my fright, for I encountered a drunken peasant and asked the way to Uncle Peters Fortunately, his wits appear- ed quite befuddled, and after informing me, he dropped onto a doorstep and went to sleep. I later learned from Uncle Peters wife that he was one of us, and had been stationed there to watch for me. I remained with Uncle peter a month and was then smuggled over the border into Switzerland. So ends the tale. I shall leave for America as soon as possible. I am eager for peace. Your loving ANUTA GLORIA MINCI-IIN DEBGRAI-I AERA!-IIVISGN '42 GETTING UP IN THE MORNING from somewhere in the room comes a familiar buzzing sound. Turning over almost silently and cautiously opening one eye, I ask myself if it could possibly be the alarm clock. My conscience at once assures me that it is, and almost as quickly my bad self assures me that my conscience is wrong. preferring to believe my bad self, I turn over, and settle down under the covers for a long sleep. xlust as I begin to fall into that pleasant state, my sense of righteousness bears down upon me. Once more-and I hope for the last time+I turn over, and look blankly at the clock. Again it jangles. I throw back the cover abruptly and sit up in bed. I hesitate for just a moment, looking over what at the time seems a great length of rug. In that moment I begin to freeze, so, getting quickly to my feet, I make a dash for the radiator. Lean- ing against this comfortable place, I reach out my hand and grope for the window. Finding it, I close it with a bang. Since I can close the window and keep warm at the same time, I see no reason, except that itfs a little farther than the window, why I can't turn off the alarm and keep warm too. I stretch out a hand. It doesnft auite reach but after making several attempts I do reach the button and silence the buzzer. Surprisingly, after all this exercise, I am still sleepy, and so, when I pass my bed on the way to the bathroom, I look at it longingly, climb back in, and pull the covers over my head. NANCY KOCI-IS, Class Eight. T6

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l had planned to go to Kiev for some new french hats and a ballgown, but the saualor, the dumb acceptance of those poor people have lcilled all such thoughts of self. For too many years these things have existed, it is for us, the new generation of educated landowners, to share our wealth that the oppressed may have better opportunity for learning and free thinldng. l realize that mine is an ancient and illustrious name, and perhaps my family does not approve. l do not blame them, They thinl4 l am turning Socialist. That is not true. All l desire is to see justice done. Unfortunately, there are no organizations save the Socialistic that feel this strongly. l am torn between ancestry and the cry of Russian soil, the blind groping of the hands that tilled it. Yet l feel a strange peace, as though there were before me a great and noble purpose. Could l but fulfill it, my happiness would be manifold? Do not cease to be my friend. l shall involve no one but myself. fondly, ANUTA Anna Slenslcaya Q6 Brabova Ave. Kiev june 7, 'l9'l6 My dearest Greataunt, l have at last joined a group of young aristocrats who sympathize with the cause. Believe me, it was in desperation and bewilderment that l resorted to this. l could not go on dreaming and planning-my idleness made me very unhappy. Mother and Father are quite sad, but have forgiven me, saying that the times change and people must change with them. l have assumed a name other than my own and am now staying with one of my new colleagues in Kiev, the young sister of my maid Tatiana, who has, by the way, become engaged to Vassily. Strange that this should occur to me nowl lam glad for them both. 'l-hey will be happy. l have burned my bridges behind me and am unafraid, save for the apprehension that you will no longer be my friend-and that l could not bear.-l would rather die than hurt those near to me, believe it, It would be best to destroy whatever former correspondence you have received from me that contains any hint of what l am doing now, and if you possibly can, let me lcnow of any events in or about the village near you-especially if government spies are becoming inquisitive. Now, good-by, l do not lcnow whether l shall be able to write you for a long time, so be patient and remember lcindly Your affectionate UKousoffy Borosna Chirnegev vluly 'lO, 1916 ANUTA Dearest Anuta, lam your friend. Your letters to me have been burned-those containing allusions toyour worlc. l shall not expect more letters from you until you feel it safe to write. But do talce care, Your pseudonym and address are safe with me. At your request, l shall inform you from time to time as much as l know of the Czarys plans. l'le does not lilce the peasants nor those who help them. Lovingly, your great aunt MYRA 75

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AN HOUR WITH A HORSE I most certainly shall never forget that eventful moment when I was introduced to a horse for the first time in my life, and had the experience of my first riding lesson. I remember it just as well as if it were yesterday. I happened to be up at camp, and as I walked into the stables, it seemed as if every horse was eyeing me distrust- fully, and was saying to himself, I-Iuhl I-Iere comes an amateurf' All of the horses sensed that I was afraid, for they looked at me with an expression of contempt. I'Iowever, when I reached the riding teacher, she tried to console me, and ex- plained at great length how to get on and off a horse. As I proceeded to throw one Ieg over the horse, which seemed a mile or two from the nice, soft ground, he turned around, looked at me, pinned both of his ears back flat against his head, and showed his teeth. I smiled at him in a reassuring way, but it did not seem to have much effect. Well, anyway, I managed to get on the beast, and, by degrees, I found out how to manipulate the reins. But this was just the beginningl When we began to trot, I had an extremely queer sensation come over me. Whenever the horse came up, I went down on the saddle with a thud, and then it would begin all over again. Bump, Bump . . . After a long hour, I succeeded in dismounting, my brain in a whirl and my legs very weak. When I sat down, I found it almost impossible to get up again, I was so stiff. Even that night, as I lay in bed, I could still feel the motion of the horse. Bump, Bump, Bump .... ' ' mum LANE, ciee seven. CHRISTOPHERS MY SISTER T O A S T Tony is my little sister Little Christopher loves his toast She's very, very cute. He ITOICIS It ih the CIIV- Sometimes she makes a lot of noise And then he throws it all about, , PI ' h II t , I'le really doesn t care Gylng on er U e She sometimes is so funny He feeds it to his elephant, And She SGYS Such Silly things I'Ie feeds it to his horse, She's goto little bunny And then he feeds his little self ,Amd G DOVVOI with ,GOI Wings. And swallows it, of course. MARY SUSAN SNYDER IDAUI-A PAEPCKE, Class Five Class Five MOTHER WAS RIGHT I am a little turkey, and my mother calls me Bill. Some people think that dieting is harmful, but I will tell you how it once saved my life. It was getting near Thanksgiving, and I was wondering why my brother had stopped eating. Une day my mother said, Bill, you had better stop eating if you donbt want to be killed. UWhy,', I asked. h mother said, I thought you knew. Your brother knows. See how thin e is. 'But why has that anything to do with my being killed? UWelI,H said mother, uevery Thanksgiving men come into the yard and take the fattest turkeys and send them to the city, where they are killed for Thanksgiving. Now you had better stop eating. HQhH, I said, they won't kill men, and I walked away. So I kept on eating till I got so fat all I could do was to wobble and gobble. Then about a week before Thanksgiving some men came into the yard. They went into the pen where we turkeys were and began picking us over. They put mother and brother, who by this time were auite thin, into a corner with some other thin turkeys, but they put me into a pen with the fat ones. Then I began to think about what mother had said, and I realized she was right. Then and there I started on a diet, After several days two men came into our yard to put us in crates to send 77