Louise S McGehee School - Spectator Yearbook (New Orleans, LA)

Page 38 text:

Thirty-Six The Spectator The Proud Heart I know a heart that's emptyg I know a life that's bare Of any deed or trial of love. The purity it cherished Is ever, ever, there. But where's that earthly joy, unfound above? It says, He never kissed me, And thinks with so much pride Of any heart not conquered by love's food. It says, That arrow missed me, Yet thinking of that kiss, The proud heart says, Oh, how I wish he Would. . The Magic Bow Manuel Komroff The Magic Bow by Manuel Komroff comes very near to the class called fictionized biography, yet it really seems much more like a thrilling novel. Komroff has written another excellent book, Coro- net, which is much the same type, but I believe, a great deal better written. The story concerns Nicolo Paganini, and begins with his aid to a French prisoner in Genoa, through whom he gets his first Strada- varius, and continues through his career to the point where he is the master violinist of the world and has achieved success, and fulfillment of the love for a young countess, both of which he has desired all his youth. It is an excellent study of a persevering young person, poor but remarkably talented, in his fight for his place in the sun . In his many contacts with people you realize the magnetic force he im- peled. On one occasion he received, as a gift, a fine violin perfectly suited to his unique technique, for which he ordered a bow especially made. To the superstitious people of the time, the bow was the as- surance of success for Paganini. The book is not great but extremely well written and very inter- esting. Amazingly enough, it is absolutely without the tainted touches, for Paganini was a man who did no philandering and stuck to his art. It is nice to find an artist for a change without the usual in- stincts native in so many others. The book is well worth reading for pure enjoyment.

Page 37 text:

The Spectator Thirty-five I feel as though they were speaking hypocritically, or maybe they are too stupid to know when they are well off. In a way it is true. High school years are the happiest in our Youth, but there are so many happier years in a woman's life. So, don't feel too blue because you fear to leave all happiness behind you. There are compensating joys for each of the responsibilities that you, as an adult must take on. When you grow up you find the joy of living for another's hap- piness. I shan't lecture any longer. It wasn't intended to be that really, but I didn't want my little girl to feel unhappy about such poppy- cock. Enjoy every bit of your day, and forget as much as possible the tears for lost years. There is entirely too much for you to look forward to for you to harbor such thoughts. Your Father and I have been very busy lately as the President of the Company came down yesterday. Father brought him in for lunch without any warningfwhich is so like a man. We gave a cocktail party for your Aunt Betty who is only here for the week-However all the guests have gone now and the house is quiet. Through the still evening Father and I have been listening to the ocean roar, the low groan of a steamer's fog horn, and the bell of the littlef Methodist Church around the corner. They all make us think of you and how you love these peaceful evenings. We are counting the days 'till you will be back with us. Your Father sends all his love to you. We will be thinking of you, and if you do think of us in the rush, remember we are close to you, no matter how many miles are put between us. With much love, Your Devoted Mother. 1 Mist Mist rises from the earth, steaming and white. It covers the foundations of the very world And leaves only, the peaks and pinnacles Standing, dreamlike, floating, changing, Rising and falling with the gentle currents Of theair. Then it flees, silently as it came. , The world, is real and hard once more. Stevenson, '41

Page 39 text:

The Spectator ' Thirty-seven Things About McGehee's I'1l Never Forget THE. WHOLE eight years-and we're almost at the end. Every day has been full of things we've done and seen, and though I'm sure that I can't remember everything, there are a few things in this school that I'll never forget. How we ate in the fifth grade--Jane, Harriott, Little, and Tete at one table, Margo and I at another, while the rest of them yearned to be invited to sit at the first table with the big four . . . how we used to play Capture and Tete would torture us on the see-saws . . . that Mayan festival we gave because we liked history so much .... The sixth grade--the time we dropped a worm down Mrs. Hearn's back because it was April Fool's day and she got back at us with an arithmetic test . . . the experienced feeling of watching new girls enter the fifth grade .... Seventh-we were really beginning to grow up-our first exams . . . our first crushes on Seniors . . . giggling in physiology class . . . smoking pipes on the Easter house party .... Eighth-the glory of being at the head of the grammar school . . . Jane Hackett, the first student body president of the grammar school . . . the birth of the Tattler and the fun we had printing it ourselves . . . history class, or rather the lack of one . . . exploring the roof and the secret passages on the third floor . . . dancing school Friday nights and real dances every Saturday night . . . Suddenly we were Freshmen and in the high school-May Day, and how it rained for the first time in I don't know how many years . . . being in our first Dramatic Club production Cin the important role of' the Third Woodcutter's Childi . . . Community Week . . . the twenty- fifth anniversary and all that went with it .... Sophomore year--the first class with Mrs. Yancey, who had bawled us out so efiiciently in our youth . . . our silliness and use- lessness . . . the Nautilus . . . carrying the daisy chain for our sister class .... Junior-sitting on the back row in Latin fmy book is evidence of thatl . . . Chassy being amusing in French class . . . the excitement of electing fellow classmates to major offices .... The Senior year, best of all-the thrill of really being a Senior at last . . . the chlorine experiment in chemistry and how we coughed and sneezed for the next twenty-four hours . . . Little and Jackie in Senior Study Hall . . . working on the Spectator . . . Baby Day . . . the swell May Day . . . how the work piles up when hot weather sets in . . . college boards . . . those awful final exams . . . graduation!