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

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Fifty-six The Spectator There aren't many annoyances around the dormitory aside from a few I'd like to mention, such as the kind person who refuses to wash the ring from the bathtub after she bathes, or the one who never has enough food of her own at the table and tries to take yours skilfully, and if caught wiggles out of it and makes you look the fool, or that lovely person who parks in the tub for full two hours while the rest of the house blows up, or the one who prowls about the house at night slamming doors and emitting ghastly noises. We have them all, and do we love them? Two guesses. Many people outside of the dormitory feel that we are prisoners and never allowed out of the door. That I must vigorously deny. We do get outside of the door. That ought to be obvious enough since everyone sees us at school every so often, or maybe now and then. Our shopping tours can be done absolutely on our own, only the things we turn up with usually ought to be Worn only when we are absolutely alone. It's all quite simple. We are a normal bunch of people, quite willing to be guided along the right path if we receive an explanation every inch of the way for the method and manner employed. We love the dormitory and we love the head of it. We are, on the whole, extremely happy and contented with the privi- leges we have, even though we are always ready to accept additional ones. It's a great life. You ought to try it! As I stare out of my window, my eyes Rest upon the large, and most ugly red House next door. It is a boarding house, And when you look at its massive lumbering You shudder quite impulsively. The boarders are ordinary people, each Living his or her life, regardless of the Joys and sorrows of the other. On the downstairs Front there is a nice, cozy apartment where a Man and his wife live. They have enough money For comfort, and they look it. The only time I See them is at night, when the lights are on And Momma has on her housecoat and curlers, And Poppais without his shirt, and in his slippers. There is a little kitchen off their rooms and Each night it is lighted as they widen their No longer slim waistlines. In the apartment above them Is a young family, and not so long ago the baby had

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The Spectator Fifty-five Dormitory Drool LAST year, in fun, I did a poetic take-off on dormitory life, and I felt that I had to get in a last few words to those who know so little of what it is like. In the first place, it's loads of fun, particu- larly the nights you've worked till some unheard of hour and start to climb between the sheets of your inviting bed to find that some kind person has capably fixed it so that your six-foot length and cir- cumference is expected to rearrange itself to a two by four rectangle. Then, of course, there is the one who thinks it's roaringly funny to put a wet kid glove in your bed, which makes you feel that without a doubt something chose your bed to die in. That's a lovely one. One of the oldest, but one that never fails to make someone terribly amused, even though it knocks them out, is that trick of putting a pan of water on top of a door. That's forbidden, now, since someone thought it was so funny last year, she just plain passed out. Then there is that happy little thing called lights out, which is supposed to carry enough weight to shut fourteen rebellious young girls up until the next day. Aside from that, no one sleeps, because the person next door decides she has a lot to tell her roommate that just can't wait. Then the night she decides to quiet down, she blows the roof off because you say Boo! to your roommate. Eventually the whole house is in an uproar, but outside of this nightly proced- ure, we sleep like peaceful babes for unreasonable facsimilesj. Also, Variety is the spice of Life, and if we haven't got variety, we haven't got anything. We run the gamut of emotions yet we get along better than any group of girls living together almost constantly than I have ever seen. We also come in all shapes and sizes, but, sad to say, they seem to increase rather than decrease, with the most excellent food we stuff on. Of course I wouldn't want to leave any doubt in your minds as to the fact that we are perfect angels: so I shall stop a moment on the rules and regulations of our dormitory. We are supposed to be in bed on time, except when we can think up a good excuse or lock ourselves up in some safe place and Wait till it all blows over. We are also required to be at meals on time, and, I am forced to add, dressed, since one or two of us forgot that a certain amount of clothes was required by convention at the table. No hair is to be washed before breakfast or after dinner, unless, of course, we are subtle enough to camouflage our dripping locks and smile beguilingly enough to have it overlooked. Oh, yes, we are definitely the best of children.

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The Spectator Fifty-Seven 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. Whooping cough. I know that, for every night For a long time the young mother spent her nights up and Down while the little baby wheezed. Their bathroom Light is always on at about ten o'clock at night, Just when we want to sleep, and it shines right Into our room. The woman washes out her clothes All the time and hangs them in the bathroom to dry. That I know because strange familiar shapes are Magnified on the wall of our room at night. Then Next to them are two young girls. They go to the Secretarial school just around the corner, and one Of them seems to think she has a nice voice. At Night she plays the radio loud enough for me to hear The programs without having mine on when I shouldn't, But she always spoils them with her scales and variations. The girl who stays with her types all the time, and When the weather is warm all I hear is the peck as She works. They never have learned to pull their Shades, and I sometimes wonder how they'd feel if They knew or realized how open their life is. Up on the top floor is the tiny little garret Room, and a young man lives there. I never see him Except late in the evening when I open the windows Before I go to bed, and can see that he reads at 'Night and puts his light out shortly after we do. That's all I know about the people and the house, But, although it's awfully ugly, it's nice and Neighborly. Stevenson, '41 The Perfect Senior Would Have Figure .......................................................................... Jackie Mayhew Legs .......... ....,........................... A nn West Hands ....... ........ M argaret Ann Trenchard Eyes .......... ........................ K athy LaCour Hair .......... ....................... J ane Hackett Teeth ........ ......... J une Barkerding Mouth .......... ........ B ettie Brewster Nose ................ ........ A nn Springer Complexion ........ ......... J ane Hackett Disposition ......... ....... D ottie Eaves