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

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The Spectator Fifty-nine cheat news FOR THE last time this year, I start pounding out the final number of the news, and not without a twinge of sorrow. The thing foremost in all minds are the exams rapidly approaching us, but the minds of the Seniors are much fuller. The last time I gathered the news together, we were all preparing for a glorious va- cation which we seem to have had. Now we are pre- paring for a much longer vacation, but we are not quite as eager to leave McGehee as before, for many of us are leaving our high school days behind us. The memories of the last two months have been good ones. We all enjoyed the outdoor performance of Twelfth Night by the Dramatic Club. The whole cast was excellent and, much to the surprise of many skep- tics, easily heard. Then the Juniors and Seniors took a day off and had a good time swimming and sun bathing at the Pass. Wandering about the grounds of the gor- geous oriental home of the Hechts, and swimming in the cool waters of the pool made a nice change from the streets and pavements of the city. But to be absolutely truthful, the thing that warmed the hearts of all the Seniors and softened even the hardest to tears was the beautiful May Day presented to us by the Freshmen under the able guidance of Mrs. Moise. We thank them, each and every one. It seems that the activities of these two months are endless. Following close on the heels of May Day was Baby Day, and I think the majority of the Seniors did a better job of being infantile than a real baby ever did. Try though they may, the Seniors can't overshadow the Juniors, and they reigned on their customary Short Day and we do mean Short, Short Day. In the patriotic line, the whole school rendered an amazing imitation of the U. S. A. and the flag under which she stands, as a Gym Night presentation. As something new and different, the Seniors and the Jun- iors gave modern dance interpretations of the hymn

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Fifty-eight Th e Spectator A Tale Told for Baby Day This is a tale so sad to relate Because in the end it turned into hate. A rabbit named Tabbit, they say, Hopped out in the garden one'day, And what should he see But a big bumble bee Making passes at a horsie at play. Big tears made her lovely eyes blink And her coat of soft, delicate pink Indignantly rumpled And bumpled and humpled, While at her he buzzed with a wink. Now Tabbit straight forward he rushed, And Puffy, the pink horsie, blushed, He swatted the bee Who had buzzed in such glee, But now his harsh humming was hushed. With fluttering, downcast eyes As blue as summer's skies She smiled her thanks As she twitched her flanks, You could see his temperature rise. For Tabbit 'twas love at first sight, And Puffy he told of his plight. Said Tabbit, dear Puffy, I think you're quite snuffy- Marry me-make my life bright. Oh, Tabbit, gasped Puffy-I'm shocked, My very foundations you've rocked, I can't take your kisses For I am a Mrs. My heart against you must be locked. So Tabbit went out to get crocked. Springer and Dooley.

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Sixty The Spectator from Finlandia and that old Negro spiritual, Nobody Knows the Trouble I've Seen. The lower school went through a series of violent demonstrations such as balloon relays, and the Juniors added their bit by playing volley ball. In relation to the gym department, the girls from McGehee's, Country Day, and Newman all had an after- noon together up at Newcomb with the use of their fine equipment. Every type of sport was offered and the idea proved to be a good one. Mrs. Barr brought her Country Day modern dance group over to give an exhibition of the original dances they had composed and made us feel ambitious enough to want to try it ourselves. Thank you, Country Day. I guess that just about finishes the news except for the very last chapter which is as yet unwritten, that of the Seniors walking up to receive their diplomas, and then the last few hours together, laughing and dancing. It's been fun, and we hate to leave, but much lies ahead and others are ready to take our places after we have left them. Goodbye, and the best of luck to all we leave behind! i......- 1.....1- People People People People People People People People who dwell on the price of things, who like the noise of a crowd, who bow to what money brings, who talk in a voice much too loud who love the trafIic's roar, who travel to be seen, not to see, who wallow in blood and gore, who always and always agree, Those are the ones I 'specially'despiseg People who are self-contented and smug, People who constantly criticize, The kind who would sweep dirt under a rugg These are the people who make life hateful, For their annihilation I'd truly be grateful. Cafroline Rau, '42