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

 - Class of 1942

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Louise S McGehee School - Spectator Yearbook (New Orleans, LA) online yearbook collection, 1942 Edition, Cover
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Text from Pages 1 - 68 of the 1942 volume:

,axes V' ' -z-yE,1.:,L-f, -, - :vf.f,gg.1-.-:-f- . A., ' 5 GRADUATION ISSUE The Spectator LOUISE S. MCGEHEE SCHOOL New Orleans, Lcr. Vol. 26-No. 2 Dedication With Love and Sincere Appreciation The Staff Dediccrtes This Issue to MISS ELISE MCC-REI-IEE THE SPQECTATGR Vol. 26 IUNE, 1942 No. Z STAFF Editors-in-Chief Dot Berea Nancy Nunez Business Manager. .s.ssss .s,..sss4 Donna Demarest Assistant Editor ,.iii.ii ..i,...,i.iii.iiiai. A nn Iohnston Assistant Editor ....,,i,.i..ii.iii..iii.. .iii. E -i.Mary McNeil Hopkins Assistant Business Manager i,,ii..,i iss..i.is..i,.oi,ss I ackie LeBoi Assistant Business Manager ....,,., ,..iss.. G ladys Malcolrnson Art Editor ii...s....i,.,i, . ,....ii r.ii i...,,.. C a therine Burns Assistant Art Editor sii,isi... ,..,iis.. B everly George Assistant Art Editor ..i.i,i.,i ,...,v...o M artha Helm School News. ,,.iii,..i,.. ..,oii..i K athleen Smith Circulation Manager ....,i..ii,........ ii...,...i I ane Alsobrook Assistant Circulation Manager ......,. ....i,i...,i, I o Rogers Ioke Editor ..,i,..,... .... .,....... P a tsy Wogan Exchange ,...i.ii ....t....ii B etsy I-lezlett THE SPECTATOR Five EllIT0llIAL A good-bye is one of the rnost difficult tasks in the world. One feels so much, cmd one is singularly inarticulate. It is impossible to expose the depths of one's emotions with words. But who wants to? It is only the seniors who are sentimental, who realize that graduation is not as happy an occasion as one is led to believe. A freshman, sophomore, or even junior would never be able to com- prehend the reluctance of a senior to leave the school, to leave Cicero, and freshmen with no respect for their elders. But, when the time comes to leave, one learns how much McGehee's, the teachers, the girls, and the tradition mean to one. It is hard to say good-bye. There are only the same words which have been uttered countless times before by countless Seniors. But I think the school appreciates these words, and you, who are under- graduates, will remember and understand them when you too get ready to wear the pink dresses of graduation. Ed. '42 At last the time has come which we knew was inevitable, although l'm sure we all expected some catastrophe that would prevent it. It's hard to say goodbye to a class so outstanding, a class that has left some- thing really valuable to the school, and whose departure means that we have only one more year at McGehee's. It's hard to say good-bye to a class whose student-body officers represented us so well in Washington. You know, those girls have lifted our ideals higher, too. A' It's not the Senior steps, or Senior study hall, or any of the Senior privileges that we consider our most important gift from the Seniors, but their great loyalty and love for our school. It's not until you're really close to the Senior class that you realize how great is the job to be done, how well the present Seniors are doing it, and then wonder if your class will succeed as well. Well! Goodbye class of '42. You've left a great deal for us to live up to, and I just hope that we may fill our responsibilities half as well. THE IUNIORS And so we're graduating. The Seniors begin to look with eagerness toward the end of school, and with a little sadness too. There are three Seniors that are graduating this year 'that look toward the end of school with more than a little sadness. They've given to McGel'1ee's all that a student possibly can. They've received from McGehee's all that they've given, and a great deal more than they can Six THE SPECTATOR see or realize now. As you've probably guessed, I'm speaking of our three main Student Body officers, Patsy, Dottie and Connie. Iust to sum up a few of the things they've done-. Last year we know that Student Body government went on the rocks, that the students were not fit to govern themselves, and that the incoming Seniors, our class, were not fit to run the school. However, we were put on probation and officers were chosen, who could not officially be installed in office for six weeks, until we proved that we could govern ourselves and they proved capable of governing us. We can only imagine their responsi- bility, and how they felt those six weeks. We know that they did one of the best jobs of starting school that has been done in a long time. They wrote a complete new handbook in which information, rules, and explanations were stated in full. They enforced the "Little Sister" plan which proved a help later on, and they had students taking Student Body tests until each had passed it. After the six weeks were up and it was decided that student govern- ment should continue, they were sworn in. When Connie, Dottie and Patsy took that oath, it meant somthing more and something a little different. They knew what their offices were and they knew that they had worked to get them. They also knew that if it was humanly possible, they were going to be good officers. ' After they were officially in office, they re-wrote the constitution, changing it in some parts, taking out old rules, and adding new ones. They made student council offences clearer, calling the important ones "honor offences" and those not so important "rules". Some of those rules are locking the lockers, leaving books in lockers only, and not eating on the second floor or in the loft. These rules are not new. They have been in existence for many years, yet to some students they are new, for this is the first year that they have really been enforced. This is only because of the ceaseless efforts of Dottie, Connie and Patsy- Connie's calling people down from the loft who are eating, and coming downstairs to eat with them, Dottie's hauling her books down from Senior Study Hall and making others do likewise, and Patsy's call for quarters which immediately stopped the locker problem. They hammered and persuaded and argued--and set these rules into practice. Individually, they are what the three officers of the school should be -and even more than that. Dottie, with a little humor and a good deal of common sense and understanding, has been what is known as a Stu- dent Council President. Patsy, who is something of a riot usually, can hold a Student Body meeting as well as Mrs. Yancey holds an English class. Patsy organizes, executes, and circulates: and has the individual THE SPEc'rA'roR Seven responsibility which constitutes an executive. Connie's likability and versatility have helped her to be a good Prefect. This year study halls and libraries have been better than any year before due to Connie's understanding and organizing study hall keepers. She also had the fore- sight to see that Iuniors should be trained for next year, and the last part of school made all study hall keepers Iuniors. But the best and most important thing about all three of them is that they work in perfect harmony. And so they're leaving. But because they have been together since the grammar school, because they are known and liked by all the stu- dents-and the faculty as well and because they are real friends as well as leaders and executives, they are leaving the school in excellent condi- tion for next year's class. And they are also leaving with the knowledge that they have done their iob and done it well. . Ed. '42 I think it was Burke who said "We stand where we have an immense view of what is, and what is past. Clouds, indeed, and darkness, rest upon the future . . I can not help but feel how applicable that is to me at this moment, and especially during these last three weeks of school. I'm afraid I'm looking upon Iune 10th more as a commencement than graduation. Yet, I don't want to leave McGehee's even ,though I know I am old enough, am supposed to have finished my work, and have re- ceived all I can from high school. Ignoring the fact entirely that I have gotten my credits,I feel that I have left so much undone. There are thous- ands of opportunities I have let slip by for making a friend, or learning a little more about Cicero, for instance. I'm afraid I've appreciated the faculty and realized how grand a person each one is, too late. I've seemed to have stressed the wrong things, and had the knack of being in on all mischief and deviltry for the last seven years. And often it's been a lot more serious than merely mischief. Yet despite all my ingratitude, this school has given me something which I shall never be without-even yet I can not estimate its value. For at last, I have a measuring stick for life. Over a period of seven years at Mc- Gehee's impressions have slowly been penetrating my brain, unwilling and unknown to me. Values have formed about thousands of little things and all kinds of people. Even though I may not always follow my pre- cepts I do know what is right and what should be done. And so next year, I will be able to "try my wings" as it were, see how much of my theories work in practice and make a fresh start. That's why I call Iune 10th Commencement, but I shall never forget that from which I am graduating. Patsy Gibbens '42 E ght Senior Class THE SPECTATOR Nine A fi if . ' AJ'tx M t, , I lx lfQJU,ti,XW R' L M. ,fi MNC W J lx X' qdflfd Q 'K 'J , ' xL F 'Y Lf M J X PM P67 X PATRICIA IAY GIBBENS This above all-to thine own self be true And it shall follow as the night the day, Thou canst not then he false to any man. Pres, of Student Body 1417 Capt. of Gray Team 137: Sweater Girl l2J: Student Council Repre- sentative KZJ: Choir ll, 2, 33: Glee Club fl, 2, 3, 43: Dramatic Club fl, 2, 3, 4Dp Varsity ll, 2, 3, 49. DOROTHY WATKINS I-IECHT Dearer is love than life, and fame than gold, But dearer than them both your faith once pliqhted hold. Pres. of Student Council i475 Pres. of Class ill, Sweater Girl f3lp Westfeldt Notebook Prize 133, Student Council Representative C331 Asst. Editor of SPECTATOR CSD: Glee Club KZ, 3, 42: Dramatic Club ll, 2, 3, 47. W M5141 ' ' . l tw' 5 Maj' f l f 5 f- L 1 1 1 lijflx 'fl f S 1 ,tx ' A , . . Wgv VTLU 30,4 1 j gd 7 J V, wj' x fl ,S A ,' Q Jfff M l THE SPECTATOR Ten ,t , 14411 . '4x,6La,ua.ul34 - :mils 'Hula MAMA Runga ' CONSUELO FAUST Perfect in body and tcultless in mind. Preiect f4lg Pres. of Class C217 Vice-Pres. ct Class ill, Sweater Girl Clf: Asst. Business Manager cf SPECTATOR 133, Phctsqrcxpher of NAUTILUS ill: Glee- Club C237 Drcxmctt: Club ll, 2, 3, 42: Varsity Cl, 2, 3, 4l. DOROTHY ELVIA BEREA True is the dicrl to the sun, Although it ke not shined upon. Co-Editor of SPECTATOR l4l: SPECTATOR prile 123, Student Ccucil Represf-'itctive CZF: Glee Club il, Z, 3, 4lg D1c1m:1ti: Club CZ, 3, 437 Var- sity fl, 2, 3, 4l. ,L fs , ny 1 .F ! 1 ft ,L r 5 L - FFS tj L" I C A 'LU , f pl i , L9 fl . C ifyyfilr NWI , A . AX ' xv? yi A 70 ,, ,Lg 1, l C4 IK fs fl Rf" it LVW1 X ,K I, x, t N R. .X X Af 'C ff THE SPECTATOR Eleven .N I A ,rf , I V I IN- Lg: ffl It ,W 'w i is F A f A . Q if F . ' .X 4 .I V 1 'li fr! W 5 f I ' I If 1. igjfxjc-L W' l , . . , X 'f' .fl I I ' . ,f A 1 fi- 4 NANCY IANE NUNEZ When she had passed, it seemed like the ceasing of exquisite music. Co-Editor of SPECTATOR t4lg Sect'y at Class KZJ: Social Service Committee 143: Queen in May Day 149: Art Prize t3J. i . A . DONNA DEMAREST She is made to be the admiration of all and the happiness of one. . Business Manager of SPECTATOR f4Jg Vice I Pres.-Sect'y.-Treas. of Glee Club C415 Student I Council Representative t4?g Choir C2, 435 Glee- Club CZ, 47: Dramatic Club IZ, 3, 45. ' K, ivxk K.. Twelve THE SPECTATOR X 1 'X F ' K XA N., R . , Y xx H WILHELMINE ARAGON From the feelings of her heart flow the highest graces of music. Glee Club C217 Dramatic Club C2l. , , HARRIET HOLLINSHER BLISH It seems she hangs upon the cheek of niqhl, Like a rich jewel in an Ethiope's ear. 4 Enlered Senior Year, Dramatic Club MJ. THE SPECTATOR Thirteen L 1 CATHERINE BURNS But so fair, she takes the breath of men away. Art Editor of the SPECTATOR C417 Asst. Art Ed- itor of SPECTATOR C327 King in May Day ill, Choir tl, 2, 3, 43: Glee Club Cl, 2, 3, 495 Dra- matic Club MJ. . . I I Xt ' J SUSAN WINCHESTER CAFFERY I am a great friend to public amusement, Pres. of Class 137: Grey Cheerleader 1407 Stu- dent Council Representative tl, 2, 43: Choir ' 3, 497 Glee Club Cl, 2, 3, 43- Dramatic fl, 2, 3, 47. tl, 2, Club 1 ' L -.--' , Fourteen THE SPECTATOR AMELIE IANET CLARK I know not if I know what true love is, But it I know, then, it I love' not him, I know there is none other I can love. Entered Sophomore Year, Student Council Rep- resentative 1427 Glee Club CZJ. I ANNE RUSSEI.. CLARK 'Ihe music that can deepest reach And cure all, is cordial speech. Pres. of Class f4lp Sect'y. of Class 1337 Student Council Representative ill: Glee Club i237 Drc- matic Club CZ, 3, 4l. THE SPECTATOR Fifteen IOAN PROCTOR DURLAND Honor lies in honest toil. Glee Club Cl, 2, 3lg Dramatic Club Cl, 2, 3, 4l. OLIVE EUSTIS EAVES Self-command is the main elegance. Pres. of Dramatic Club C475 Trecfs. of Student Body f3l7 Treas. of Class C4l: Glee Club C337 Dramatic Club Cl, 2, 3, 4lg Varsity 12, 3l. 1- yf x :CM Jxr ,tx l I .,' 1 l Sixteen THE SPECTATOR . 1 1 CQ GRACE ELEANOR GOULD Kites rise against, not with the wind. Entered Iunior Year, Red Cheerleader C437 Glee Club 13, 415 Dramatic Club K3, 4l. BETH GREENWALD True piety hath in it nothing weak, noth- ing sad, nothing constrained. lt en larqes the hearty it is simple, free and attractive. Entered Sophomore Year, Glee Club CZ, 3, 4l Dramatic Club KZ, 3, 47. JC 3' TQOTJO L, l0'Qf C QGQWX AJ THE SPECTATOR Seventeen ELEANOR HAMILTON Happiness is the harvest of a quiet eye. Entered Senior Year, Dramatic Club t4l BYHNE LOUISE HAVARD Kindness is the qolden chain by which society is bound together. Entered Junior Year, Sec'ty. of Class t4lg Glee Club f4l. I V K tg ill" x 1 Ani C ' x XL. . L Eighteen THE SPECTATOR MARY ALLEN IACKSON A daughter of the Gods, Divinely tall, And most divinely fair. Duke in May Day ill: Student Council Repre- sentative- Clip Asst. Business Manager of SPEC- TATOR 1337 Choir Cl, 2, 337 Gle-e Club ll, 2, 317 Dramatic Club fl, Zh KATHRYN ELIZABETH KEYES Patience is a necessary ingredient of genius. Entered Senior Year, Student Council Repre- sentative C4lg Glee Club 143: Dramatic Club 447. X' f Lx Q I I , . A ' fl' , ju t ' V ' hx... f , bfi t THE SPECTATOR Nineteen MARTHA LISE MCDONOUGH She's all my fancy painted her, , She's lovely, she's divine. Capt. oi Varsity C431 Treas. of Class i237 Stu- dent Council Representative 1437 Dramatic Club C43: Varsity il, 2, 3, 43. 1 3 ELSIE IEAN MCGIVNEY Few things are impossible to diligence and skill. Pres. of Glee Club 143, Student Council Repre- sentative fl, 23, Choir ll, 2, 3, 435 Glee Club fl, 2, 3, 437 Dramatic Club Cl, 23. ul!! ' l Twenty , A OR Q! 4 ' ,J f Q up? I fl F Lf! C!! P jijw yj. . p W - C MARIE ODETTE MORAN Man is not made to question but adore. Student Council Representative t3lp Dramatic Club C235 Varsity fl, 2, 3, 4l. L PATRICIA RUTH O'I-IARA Small but how dear to us, God knoweth best. Capt. of Gray Team t4lp Maid in May Day C417 Student Council Representative CZ, 3, 47: Glee Club 13, 457 Dramatic Club t3, 477 Varsity il, 2, 3, 47. A mack X K ,Q lyh, v if X 'Q . yy C , Ax HQ LJ C41 K K 'JT .ivi 7' Q JQ t f' A ff! CZ 6,21 fi ,L 'QQ THE SPECTATOR Twenty-one MARY PUGH Unhurt amidst the war of elements, The wrecks of matter, and the crash of worlds. Red Cheer Leader fl, 2, Sl, Student Council Representative Ill: Glee Club tl, 2, 377 Dra- matic Club fl, 2, 33. X . if ETHELDRA GREHAM SMITH Next to invention is the power of inter- preting invention. Next to beauty is the power of appree ciatinq beauty. Entered Sophomore Year, SPECTATOR KZ, SJ, Dramatic Club 12, 3, 43. Twenty-'CWO THE SPECTATOR KATHLEEN PALMER SMITH He conquers who endures. Entered Sophomore Year, School News Editor of SPECTATOR l4l: Glee Club CSD. IOSEPHINE ELIZABETH THOMAS A kind heart is a fountain of qladness, Making everything in its vicinity freshen into smiles. Entered Sophomore Year, Pres. of Choir i477 Student Council Representative C2lg Social Serv- ice Committee f4J. ' , ! ' J 5 -,ff l f , rffl W, , i,1Xl AJ, f f E t f 1' 4x'i ,,.f A . V t L! 1 ix THE SPECTATOR Twenty-three 5 KATHRYN VERLANDER To be good is man's most glorious task. Entered Sophomore Year: Glee Club 12, 39. I MARILYN RUTH WELLEMEYER Wise to resolve, cmd patient to reform. Librarian C435 Sect'y. of Student Body C255 Vice- Pres. ot Class f4lp Chairman of Social Service 141: Sect'y. of Student Council C435 Glee Club tl, 2, 3, 41: Dramatic Club ll, 2, 325 i ' ' rf- , ,def f 'f N ff ' jeff I ' if , V I V A! CC zff -f ,nf g ' ' E C S fwtf fb I , 131 ' l ' ' , f s.J K X " ' f t,, 'fl NL . ' ' if ff' Twenty-four THE SPECTATOR I 1 CONNIE LEE WIENER l-le's armed without that's innocent within. Sect'y.-Treas. of Glee Club 1437 Choir 11, 2, 3, 43, Glee Club 11, 2, 3, 43: Dramatic Club 11, 2,43. MARTHA VAIRIN WITHERSPOON And set his heart upon the goal, Not the prize. Pres. of Athletic Association 143, Maid in May Day 1437 Treas. of Class 11, 43, Vice-Pres. of Class 123, Glee Club 13, 437 Dramatic Club 12, 43 Varsity 12, 3, 43. THE SPECTATOR 4-' Twenty-five N 1 A lf ,w ,ffvlt . A ,V A I E A. 1,.,3ft-151 '15 ,Q 11 I I Nt 1 3 f L 3 9 l Elk? ,ful !r3XL,x17'cfV VQVV 'V fl,,,1l'C 511 Q i f A ' . .VV J 7 1 fl 113 L MARY PATRICIA WOGAN Who is matchless among you in wit. Entered Iunior Year, Capt. of Red Team 143: joke Editor of SPECTATOR 1437 Student Council Representative 1337 Choir 13, 43, Glee Club 13, 43: Dramatic Club 13, 437 Varsity 133. DORIS CARMER CLABAUGI-I The true and the pure pleasures, associa- ted with health and sobriety and vir- tue, these partake of. But those which accompany folly and depravity lt is an absurdity to mix with intellect. Westfelt Notebook Prize 1235 Poety Prize 133: Student Council Representative 11, 337 NAUTI- LUS 1137 SPECTATOR 1237 Choir 11, 2, 3, 43: Glee Club 11, 2, 3, 43. MAUD ELLEN FARRAR Contact with a high-minded woman is good for the life of man. Entered Iunior Year, Choir 13, 43, Glee Club 13, 435 Dramatic Club 143. Twenty-six THE SPECTATOR ll 'Y sag! vp. age. ,gh I A :tex o'G""" 9 f , i p. . , We, the Senior Class of the L. S. McGehee School, being of sound mind Conly slightly impaired reasonl but infirm health ldue to overwork?l do give and bequeath our worldy possessions, both tangible and intan- gible, as follows: We will our cherished Front Steps, our other privileges to the Iuniors, now new Seniors. I, Wilhelrnine Aragon, leave the school. CAs if I was ever therel. I, Dot Berea, leave my excitabiltty to Mrs. Pelton. I, Harriet Blish, leave my soft voice to Iane Walker. I, Catherine Burns, leave my ups and downs to Mary Margaret Todd. Wake it any way you want to, Mool. I, Susie Caffery, leave a few pounds to Anne Iohnston. I, Doris Clabaugh, leave Ierry. lt'll do us both good. I, Amelie Clark, leave my fingernails tall brokenl. I, Anne Clark, leave my ivory complexion to the statue on the stair. I, Donna Demarest, leave my last name. CI won't need it any morel. I, Ioan Durland, leave my voice to Mrs. Moore. I, Olive Eaves, refuse to leave anything. I, Maude Ellen Farrar, leave to join the B.A.F. I, Connie Faust, leave Mrs. Bamond breathless. I, Patsy Gibbens, leave a love affair for every member of the faculty and student body. I, Beth Greenwald, leave my accent to Betsy I-Iezlett. I, Grace Gould, leave my wonderful baby picture to delight the whole school. I, Eleanor Hamilton, leave my little feet to little O'I'Iara. THE SPECTATOR Twenty-seven I, D. D. Havard, leave my waist to Glenny Wiegand. I, Dottie Hecht, leave an aching void. I, Mary Allen Iackson, leave my little red wagon. CBut of course I'm only teasingl. I, Kathryn Keyes, leave my spot on the honor roll to Donnie Mc Donald. I, Martha McDonough, leave the Cafeteria one fudge ripple Cbut only because it's melted.l I, lean McGivney, leave my super-scrupulousness to Iackie LeRoi. I, Tee Moran, leave a note for Miss Mclfetridge. I, Nancy Nunez, leave my perpetual sunburn to anyone who will take it. I, Pat O'Hara, leave my jewelry to the scores of people who seem to Want ii. y I, Mary Pugh, leave my braces to the Chemistry lab for platinum wire. I, Baby Smith, leave my calm and easy temper to Weesie Norton. I, Kathleen Smith, leave Miss Wigley's Art Appreciation Class for better or worse. I, lo Thomas, leave my good disposition to our "Mama". lNot because she needs it. of coursel. I, Katherine Verlander, leave my big blue yes to Scherazade, Mrs. Yancey's cat. I, Marylin Wellemeyer, leave my flowers to brighten up the school Know that we pretty seniors are leavingl. I, Connie Wiener, leave my usefulness to Miss Norwood, who dcesn't have a chance to run the Office for helping everyone else. I,Monk Witherspoon, leave my mathematical mind to all of Miss Schu1er's ignorant students, providing there are such. I, Patsy Wogan, leave my correspondence to the govemment. Then there never will be a paper shortage. All thanks, love and kisses to Connie Faust, Dottie Hecht, Monk Witherspoon, Tee Moran, Baby Smith, and Pat O'Hara, and oll the other darling people who wrote and typed for the Spectator. Twenty-eight THE SPECTATOR Most Popular .,.........., Faust, Gibbens ltiel Best All Around ....,..,... ......A.,..... F aust, Gibbens Best School Citizen A.,,,., . .o,,..o Hecht, Wellemeyer Best Athlete ...,,........,, ,A......,. G ibbens, O'Hara Most Personality .,....,.. .A ...e,..... Gibbens, Wogan Smartest, r....,i...,....,., Most Naive .......,. l..az1est ........r..,............. ..,..g,c-cClabaugh, Gibbens Weiner, Greenwald --.....Moran, E. Smith Best Disposition ..,......,...,., .,....,..,, Faust, Thomas Most Sophisticated .....e,,... ...,, D emarest, Iackson Prettiest. ...,,, at ,vc,.,,...,...., Burns, McDonough Best Figure ...,...... .. ..........,..... Eaves, Faust Prettiest Hair c...,. i......,vr,tt. . Burns, Blish Prettiest Eyes. eccc.,....,., .v,.,......,..... N unez, Berea Prettiest Complexion ........ ...ecr.,,. B urns, McDonough Prettiest Legs ..,,......., .cll.. . .Y .....,.,....,,, Pugh, Eaves Best Dressed t.,,.,.,., .,ccc,., I ackson, McDonough Biggest Flirt ,........,g..,...,gg...t,, g.......,l.. N unez, Gibbens Most Likely to Succeed ..g,..... .,v..gg. C labaugh, Faust ONGRATULATIONS and good luck to next year's Student Body officers, Ellen Schneider, President of the Student Body: Gladys Mal- colmson, President ot the Student Council, and Ann Iohnston, Pretect, and all our love and sympathy to next year's Editor of the Spectator, Mary McNeil Hopkins. THE SPECTATOR Twenty-nine fa 1 'S'- 4 -J -.. "' Q rf fc NANCY: Hello, Dot. This is Nancy. I hope you're not too busy to talk: I just have to tell you! I ran into Grace Gould yesterday. She's here for that author's convention. You know she has created quite a sensation, writing weird "things", betriending struggling young artists, and more or less taking Gertrude Stein's place in the literary world. DOT: I sure would have liked to see her but I had a luncheon yester- day for some circus people. Remember Pat O'I-lara? Well, she married "the man on the flying trapeze" and now they're doing an act together. The fire eater in their troupe took quite a fancy to me and wouldn't leave until the men's national swimming champion twho is spending the Week- end with mel put out his fire. NANCY: I wish you would introduce me to some of those strange people that are always visiting you. Nothing exciting ever happens to me. DOT: Why, Nancy, I've seen your smiling face advertising Pearl Harbor tooth paste at least three times today. NANCY: Dot, there is nothing exciting about brushing one's teeth. Now if I were Harriet Blish and posed with handsome men for lipstick ads . . . that would be different. DOT: I wouldn't gripe, Nancy. Think of Dee Dee Havard modelling foundations six hours a day . . . Oh, by the way. Were you invited to Ieannie's the dansant, Saturday night? NANCY: No, but Ioan Durland is going with one of the boys from her dating agency. DOT: Connie's going too. You know with the responsibilities of housewife, mother Cthose darling little blue-eyed twinsll, and the presi- dency of the P.T.A. she has quite a lot on her hands. Ot course, not more than Patsy-it is simply Wonderful the way she supports her invalid husband. NANCY: Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. I got a letter from Catherine the other day. lShe and the Mexican artist she married are living in Santa Marial She said she saw Olive, who was chaperoning her mother Thirty THE SPECTATOR on their tour through Mexico, and Katheryn Keyes, who has a contract to build a bridge over the river right outside of Santa Maria. It must be won- derful to have the brains to be a civil engineer. DOT: I suppose you know that Dottie and Baby have finally gotten their nursery started. With all of Dottie's experience with Stella and Baby's experience with her brother, they make a fine pair . . . Dottie cuddles 'em and Baby kicks 'em. Seriously though, they have a fine school. Carmer, Kathleen, and Katherine Verlander ll never can remem- ber her married name? all send their children there. NANCY: I don't want to change the subject, but do you know if Susie's been acquitted yet? It was such a ridiculous case. A man couldn't die simply from hearing her sing in a night club. Since they kept the story out of the papers I never would have known about it if Clarkie, who was Susie's lawyer, hadn't told me. DOT: I haven't heard about Sue, but guess what I did Know don't be madi. I bought some red hair from Eleanor Hamilton and Wilhelmine. They have the nicest shop where people like me that have always wanted red hair can get it. NANCY: Oh, Dot. You'll create a scandal. But speaking of scan- dals, Tee is divorcing her second' husband: she never could make up her mind. And of course Donna is already a gay divorcee. Can you imagine her divorcing her husband for neglect? DOT: Not really! Well, there's one person I know who has a calm, peaceful marriage-that's Martha . . . no worries, no troubles, no children, and most of the time no husband la professor has to study a lot to keep up with thingsl. NANCY: Have you seen Ir. lately? Monk insists he looks like her, but I think he's exactly like his father . . . I haven't seen or heard of Amelie, have you? She seems to have just faded away. DOT: No. . . Oh! Poor Beth. Last week Maude Ellen cracked up her plane on the Flea's chicken farm. Maude wasn't hurt but Beth is still out trying to catch her chickens. NANCY: That's too bad . . . Did you know that Connie Wiener is still being held in Martinque as a spy? I do hope she will come out of all that trouble all right. DOT: Me too. Say, you know Mary Allen and Marilyn have quite a business in their Debut Shop, what with Mary Allen's swell designs, and Marilyn's genius for taking care of the money. Mary Pugh buys all of her clothes there, which is good enough advertisement for any shop. NANCY: That's right. My goodness, Dot, it's time for Wogan and Thomas on the Crone-Bone Program-dog food you know. I never miss it. Bye-bye. Call me soon. THE SPECTATOR Thirty-one maui P90515 X Poem My F Qther's In The Army "Oh! There's something Qbout Q soldier!" Before 1 go rushing off hctlt-cocked with ecstQcy-1 must tell you Cot course I cQn't-but I'1l tryl how wonderful it wQs to see PQpQ G1l9f 'two yeQrs of living with Q memory. PQpQ of 1939 wQs Q mQn of fifty, short-Qnd Cl must be irQnkl fQt. He WQs someone who took me to the movies Qnd tQught me to drive Q CGI- Qn Qngel who Qllowed me to chQlk up Q 55200 Qccident to experience. I wQs Q kid in 1939-but this WQs Christmds, 1941, Qnd I wQs beginning to get scgred. WhQt should I tQ1k Qbout? Would he be stuffy Qnd old- fgshioned? Oh!!! Christmas, 1941-WhQt Q mQn! Why he QctuQlly Qsked me if I'd seen Qny QttrQctive young men worth getting under the mistletoe! And now, to top it Qll, he's in the Army Qnd "Skinny" too Che only Weighs eight pounds more thQn I do! Yes, 1'm icrtl. lust think-l've hUd to brQg Qbout my uncle in the Army, but now, l'm Q CQptQin's dQugh- ter. The whole iQmily hQs gone wild! My grQndmother expects Q second MQcArthur Qny time now, Chloe is disgusted thQt PQpQ isn't Q Genergl so she cQn brQg to the Colonel's dQughter next door. MQmQ isn't pgrticu- 1Qrly excited-she sQW him in the lQst wQr. LilQ wQnts to know it he's Q soldier or Q SergeQnt: Qnd whQt Qbout me? Well- He mQy be Q greQt big genergl He mQy be Q SergeQnt-MQior Or he mQy be just Q privQte in the line, line, line. lt's Q militgry vest, seems to suit the lQdies best! There's something Qbout Q soldier thot is iQne! fine! fine! 42. Thirty-two THE SPECTATOR A-Sailing We Will Go It was May-Day morn and Spring was in the air. However, I was barely in a doze, for I had been awakened four times for school, and four times I repeated that I didn't have to go to school until four o'clock. Thoughts ran through my mind, thoughts of washing my hair, and catch- ing up on lost sleep. But at that moment the telephone rang and brought me back to the spring morn. The telephone was for me. Who in the world wanted to call at this hour. "Hello," my voice sounded like somthing foreign and scratchy. "Oh, hello, Patsy. Huh? Sailing? Now? Oh, sure, I'll pick you up in a half-hour. Who? Dottie, Te and Monk? Okay, seeya later." Well, I didn't think I'd ever see the day when I'd sail in that boat. Of course, they had invited everybody else already, but-a sail's a sail. Now I had to wash my hair and get dressed, and I knew the wind would blow my hair and it would look terrible for May Day. Having performed these duties in a rather lazy way, and having picked up the said people, we reached the boat. I had never seen the boat in water, only on land when I was working on it. The moment we got within five feet of it, everyone seemed to change character. They spoke in a foreign language, associated with strange people, and did extremely odd things. Following them, I jumped into the boat and began to get settled-oh, disillusionment! They all set to work doing something and thrust a basket in my hands and told me to get some cokes. When I asked where, they told me, "Over there." That didn't help much be- cause "over there" could be anywhere. However, I set off light in spirit. I passed one place that said "Bar" with a Falstaff Beer sign underneath. I decided it couldn't be there so I went to another place which was closed. The third place was about a hundred feet away with a number of cars around it. I figured shorts 'weren't quite the thing to wear here, so I went back to the boat to get a skirt. When I got back everyone was working on a part of the boat except Patsy, who was talking to a very nice, sloppy man named Oscar, who wore a dirty captain's cap, asking him to come sailing with us. When they saw me approach without the cokes, they looked upon me with scorn and impatience. Patsy said she'd go with me to the place, grabbed the basket out of my hand, and marched in front of me. I followed meekly behind, still thinking we weren't dressed enough to go to the store. However, we didn't go to the store, we went to the place marked "Bar," stood at the counter and waited for the cokes. After Patsy had spoken' to a few of the men lounging around there, and after we had been scrutinized to the utmost, we left with cokes. THE SPECTATOR Thirty-three We retumed to the boat and shoved off into the pen. There was a great hustle and bustle of rigging the sail, fixing the stays, guiding the boat with the tiller, all of which I found myself no part and only in the way. The other people seemed to think so too, for they seemed always to be screaming at me to move. Someone told me to do something and I was just about to do it when another person shoved me over and said they could do it better themselves. After that, I squatted on the boat, observed the scenery, and watched Patsy, Dottie, and Te fight. After a great deal of trouble with the sail, whereby everyone said every two min- utes that it was "fou1," we landed upon the high seas. Life seemed a little more hopeful then, so I peered around at my friends-but they didn't pay much attention to me. Patsy was intent upon sailing, Te and Monk were- disrobing, and Dottie was busy envying Patsy. I began to get settled, deciding a sunburn would look nice with my white dress. lust as I was peacefully feeling the rays of the sun, someone ordered me to lie on the other side. Being an obliging soul, I moved to the other side. I now know that it was the low side, or in other words, the side that the boat tilts to. Unsuspectingly, I lay down, only to have an over- sized wave wet my lower portion and splash my poor hair, which by this time had given up a number of bobby-pins. Being a normal person, I jumped up, screaming. That was not the thing to do. Four different people yelled not to jump up and a little water wouldn't hurt me, and threatened never to take me sailing again. When I lay back again, I found Patsy's feet where my head should be. Without asking, I decided their position there was essential to the sailing of the boat, and I moved down further. A number of things happened in rapid succession after that--the loss of Patsy's bobby-pins, the loss of Patsy's shirt, the turning around of the boat, and a remark made by me. All were pretty bad except my re- mark. That was awful. As the boat turned around with the boom skin- ning my hair, I made a remark to myself. I merely said, "I don't care if you turn the boat over, just don't turn me over." The wind carried my words to the ears of the four owners, and immediately I felt I should have to swim the two miles in to shore. All the sunbaths were disrupted and I was again threatened in louder and more definite terms. I remained more or less silent the whole way home, feeling the sun beating on me and my hair falling down. By the time we got to the pen we were all on friendly terms and I was assigned a job to do-to push off when the boat ran into things. I was rather proud of my job and I stood on the bow feeling useful. We came near one boat and I was just about to do my job when Patsy did it and fell into the water. We came near another boat and I had my foot out when Dottie came and Thirty-four THE SPECTATOR shoved me over and stuck her foot out. By this time I was rather de- jected so I sat in the boat tying knots in a rope. We finally docked with the help of Oscar and everyone set to work. I looked around for something to do but could only gather my things from the bottom of the boat and stare stupidly. Now and then, Monk handed me something. I held it awhile and then it was snatched away by Patsy. Eventually, they finished, and on walking to my car, Dottie re- marked, "I wish our passengers would do something besides gripe. Next time you come, Dot, you're going to work!" 42. l11-O. . ? How The War Has Affected Me Before the momentous day of December 7th, I was ct normal, happy person living in peaceful surroundings with congenial people. The war was far away and I was too interested in my own welfare to give much thought to the happenings in Europe. Then, suddenly we were plunged into the fight too. There were no realistic air raids, no devastated cities, no wounded civilians, but there was Pearl Harbor and that was enough for most Americans. With the declaration of war on our part came only one question to my mind and that question repeated itself again and again. Would I see my father before he left? That may sound silly to you-it sounds silly to me now. But in those first few days after December 7th, I lived in mortal fear that my father would be sent away before I saw him again. Then, Christmas came-and I was home once more. The post had grown. Soldiers were everywhere. The men were serious, thoughtful, busy. The women were industrious, worried, dazed. I didn't see my father often, but I could see that he was discouraged about our progress, disgusted with our complacency, and harassed about our future. I only talked to him once for any length of time, but in that short time, he gave me two thoughts which I shall always remember. "Do your job and do it well. Never forget how to pray." Since then, I have done more thinking than I have ever done in my life. I realize now that my job is here, doing my work to the best of my ability. I am still a happy, normal person. The knowledge that my father will leave does not send my mind into hysterical thoughts, for my own private life is of relatively no importance. Privations and incon- veniences are a joy, because they make me feel as though my part in this war is real and vital. I know life next year will be completely different from any I have ever known, but it does not frighten me. War has shown me that people THE SPECTATOR Thirty-five must sacrifice personal comfort and happiness to achieve their goal. I only hope that I may have the courage and character to take whatever is in store for me, so that I may live up to the standards which my family has already set. The Theories of Thrackpzology The theories of Thrackpzology are: 1. Ideas pertaining to falling rain . . . That reminds me of one rainy day I spent in the attic. As I was hunting around, I came upon a very old doll. She had a china head with tiny painted features. Time had blurred her coloring and she seemed to have a tired expression. Her body was made of a kind of silky cloth. Her clothes resembled those of the Civil War period. Her dress was made of pink organdy trimmed with lace. It was smudged by many eager little hands, and the lace trimmings were tattered and yellow with age. One of her tiny boots was missing. On this foot there was stamped M. SMITHERS 1851. I sat there a minute looking at her with reverence. Imagine the many little owners that had cared for this tiny doll in her eighty-nine years! For a long time I sat in the creaky old chair and dreamed of her glorious history. Then as a rat scurried across the floor I laid her carefully back in her wrappings. Oh, yes - the the- ories of Thrackpzology - I know them well. O Charlene McCorkle, '45. Description Ada's qui-te average, but at times I'm inclined to believe that she has more faults than the average negress. She has thhat customary dis- pleasing odor, kinky, black, greasy hair, and large, thick lips. She shuffles around in dilapidated, rundown old shoes. She never wears stockings, but loud striped socks, which,don'.t,fit around her ankles. She drags her feet after her as if they each weighed a couple of tons. The morning isn't a success unless she stumbles over a few chairs, bumps into a breakfast table, or almost spills a cup of coffee down some poor innocent's back. J- Ada has quite a shape. It's,sognething like that of a box-car. Her top sags and sits qn her enormous bulging stomach. The appearance produced by this slovenly creation is,quite dismaying. Her most annoying habit is mumbling aftew order h een given her. Sometimes she voices her opinion on how tgllgeat lohnh5,s cold or why Susie should be made to go to school. Clomp, shuffle, clomp, shuffle! There she comes. We had better go before she sees us talking about her. Ruth Boulet '44 Thirty-SIX THE SPECTATOR The Students' Institute-A Week in Washington A short While ago four tired but thrilled High School Seniors and their history teacher arrived at the Southern Station in New Orleans after spending a week in Washington. These girls had represented the Louise S. McGehee School at the Institute of National Government for Secondary School Students held in Washington from March 29 to April 4. This is a new experiment in education, for the purpose of the Institute is to develop leadership and understanding by showing students the com- plex, but efficient working mechanics of our democracy. The McGehee School sent its Student Body President, Patsy Gibbens, its Student Council President, Dottie Hecht, its Prefect, Connie Faust, and the chairman of the Social Service Committee, Marilyn Wellemeyer. With our chaperone, Miss Ruth O. Kastler, we made five representatives from New Orleans. The Institute encompassed a varied group of High School students and teachers-one hundred and fifty in number, representing many High Schools from thirteen States. The New Orleans school was the southern- most one represented, and the only one from Louisiana. The program of the Institute was necessarily an informative and educational one. Our first experience began when we arrived in Wash- ington in a snow storm. We Southerners were delighted at being able to throw snow balls and make snow men in twelve inches of snow. We re- sided at the American University and travelled about Washington in chartered busses to avoid the war time congestion on the streets and in the hotels. The mornings were mainly devoted to visiting various work- ing departments of the Government-such as the Department of the Interior, the National Institute of Public Health, and the Department of Agriculture with its Research and Experimental Laboratories at Beltsville, Maryland, the Social Security Office, and the Office of Civilian Defense. In auditoriums of the departmental buildings we were shown movies and heard vitally interesting and informative lectures by important people from each department who were interested in the Students' Institute and its purpose. The speakers told us about their work, how the war was affecting it, and how each department is helping in the war. After each lecture time was generously alloted for the asking of quetsions by the students. One noonday we visited the Supreme Court and saw the court in session. Perhaps the most educational as Well as entertaining morning was spent in a tour of Capitol Hill. First we visited the Capitol building, im- pressive with its huge dome and many white stone steps. Here we saw the Senate Chamber and the large Chamber of the House. We also saw THE SPECTATOR Thirty-seven many interesting rooms such as the President's Room, and Statuary Hall, and countless works of art which decorate the building. After this, the students separated into State delegations to visit one of the Senators and their representatives from the respective states. We McGehee students visited the offices of Senator Allen I. Ellender and of Congressman Hale Boggs. Two of us went back to the Senate Office Building just before noon and Senator Ellender took us on the private Senators' subway to the floor of the Senate before the opening of the session, and even introduced us to Vice-President Wallace. We appreciated this, for the vice-president is indeed a very busy man. The other students went to attend some of the interesting Committee Meetings of both the Senate and the House. We found most interesting the Truman Committee, meeting in the Caucus Room of the Senate Office Building. Mr. Parish, President of the Standard Oil Company, was testifying about synthetic rubber. All of the students returned to the Senate Chamber for twelve o'clock in order to be present at a session of the United States Senate opened by the Chaplain's prayer, and presided over by Vice-President Wallace. That was indeed a full morning for us. After such interesting morning excursions as this one we had lunch either at one of the Government cafeterias with qovemment workers, or at a hotel. The afternoons were usually spent in sight seeing. One after- noon we visited the shrines of our American heritage: the Washington Monument, the Lincoln Memorial, Lee Mansion and the Tomb of the Un- known Soldier in Arlington Cemetery. Tuesday afternoon was one of the biggest highlights of the trip. The whole membership of the Students' Institute was invited to visit the White House and meet Mrs. Roosevelt individually. She received us in the beautiful oval shaped Blue Room. Each of us was impressed by the graciousness with which she received us and shook hands with each one. After this she had one of the guards take us through the White House and show us the State dining-room, the Red Room, the Blue Room, the Green Room and the Hall, showing the locked iron grill door on the stairway leading to the Presidents living quarters, and protected by another armed guard. The events of other afternoons included visiting the spacious estate at Mount Vernon, the lovely building of the Pan-American Union, the National Geographic Building, the Library of Congress, the Folger Shake- speare Museum, the beautiful new National Art Gallery, and the Smith- sonian Institute. Thus we students not only saw the actual workings of a democracy, but we saw many of our democracy's historic shrines. On every hand we saw evidence of our democracy at war. Wash- ington is alert for air raids. We saw the sand and shovels in each public Thirty-eight THE SPECTATOR building, the air raid shelters, the air raid posters, and the anti-aircraft guns and airplane spotters on tops of buildings. We saw the many new temporary office buildings being erected on the Mall, the huge number of workers leaving the office buildings in shifts so as to help prevent con- gestion for lunch and for the busses, and we saw the empty cases in the Library of Congress and empty spaces on the walls of the National Art Gallery which marked the places of valuable documents and pictures re- moved to unknown places for safety during the war. Only facsimiles of the Declaration of Independence and of the Constitution are being shown in the Library of Congress, while all the Raphaels in the Art Museum have been removed. The whole city of Washington is very war conscious. Why shouldn't it be, for, as one of our speakers said, "Washington now is the pulse beat of this whole war". Washington in Wartime is truly a thrilling sight, and we students of the Institute are very grateful for the opportunity we had in visiting our capital at this time. We know that we have had one of the most valuable and unforgettable experiences of our lives. l1.i..iO,1,...--.-. My First Beau One night when the moon was low, I sat on the swing with my very first beau. He held my hand, 'course I held his, too. And it felt just like a shock goin' all the way through. He didn't say a word, but I didn't mind, 'Cause I knew he loved me, and he was mine. We sat so still, as still as a mummy. So not even the moon knew my beau was a dummyl Gloria Ratchfcrd '45. 1-,1,.i-1-O,1i-ii The Gods If one could hear the angels sing a song of earth, If one could hear Sir Satan sing of God, If one could hear a seraph sing of hell, Then one could know the seething turmoil of a tortured mind Hearing the golden pipes of Pan And feeling the balmy breeze from Mount Olympus. -M. MCN. H. THE SPECTATOR Thirty-nine English and American It was Anne's first day in America cmd she and her cousin lane, were upstairs talking. Anne was English, and had always lived in England until -:1 few weeks before when her parents had sent her to her Aunt's for a while, to escape the war. The two girls weren't talking about anything in particular, but now and again the differences between the two countries would arise. "Let's go down to the living room for a while," said Iane after a while. "To where?" asked Anne mystified. "To the living room," responded lane. "But what and where is the living room?" asked Anne, even more mystified than before. "Don't tell me you don't know what a living room is?" "Im sorry, but I'm afraid l don't know what you mean." "Well, I suppose the only thing to do is to take you down there. Come on." As they went down the stairs silently each one wondered what was the matter with the other. Anne wished that lane would stop using such queer words, while lane couldn't understand why Anne was so stupid not to know what even a living room was. When they reached the bottom of the steps Anne wandered into a near-by room and exclaimed. What a large drawing-room you have." My large what?" asked lane amazed. "Your drawing-room." What are you talking about?" asked lane, getting annoyed. This is your drawing-room, isn't it?" asked Anne, rather worried. "You mean this room? Why no, it's our living room." Oh, then this is the room you were talking about upstairs." Sure it is," was the reply. "Oh, now l see," said Anne catching on. "You call a drawing-room, a living room. How queer!" They settled down for a while to play cards and all was peaceful until lane piped up that she was hungry. "Come on," she said, "let's go get something to eat. How about a coke and some crackers?" "What are cokes and what on earth do you want crackers for?" Cokes are a sort of drink," explained Iane. "But what do you want crackers for now?" "To eat, of course, silly." 11 n ll I: 1: n 1: Forty THE SPECTATOR "Now, don't tell me you're going to eat crackers 'cause I'm not going to believe you." "Well, why on earth wouldn't I eat them? What else do you think they're for if you're not meant to eat them?" "To pull, of course. I don't mind if you're stupid enough to eat them but I'm certainly not going to," replied the amazed Anne. . "I think you're plain cuck-coo not to eat them, but that doesn't worry me as I'm going to eat them all the same." By this time they had reached the kitchen and lane produced the cokes and so-called crackers and started eating them. Anne asked, "May I have a few, please?" "A few whats?" asked lane. "Biscuits, please." "What do you want now?" "Just a few biscuits, please, but if you don't want me to have any, that's all right," replied the amazed Anne, wondering why her cousin could have as many as she wanted while she couldn't have any. "I don't see why you can have them and I can't," she went on. "Are you by any chance talking of these crackers?" "If you call those biscuits you are eating crackers, that's what I want, if you please." lane handed her a few in answer to her begging. "Thank you," said Anne, "it really is rather awkward that English and American have the same words that mean different things, isn't it?" "Yes, but it sure will be swell when we can both understand each other," replied her American cousin. Io Rogers '45 .11-1? Stop! When I behold the step of this fast age Increase in strength and speed with each new stride, And every new invention turn the page To faster wheels on which the World may ride, When I behold Man, thought possessed of power, A slave to petty minutes, hours, and days, And greedy steel in myriad forms devour This precious time, and in a hundred ways Crush down the slow and easy pace, soon' gone Since wheels, and rails, and buttons make time go Eternally faster, faster, faster on, I hesitate a while, and then I know This whirling earth will soon leave Man behind, A ' ' ' ' . , victim to the power of his mind Anne Iohnston 43. THE SPECTATOR Forty-one The Metallic Quality of the Mind The science of words which we call poetry has ever led the al- chemists of our emotions in a zealous search for a nugget of the rarest quality which, in beauty, far surpasses the green, translucent emerald, being opaque and golden, bedded in infinite strata of understanding and suggestion. Thus the human mind, like the pathway to celestial residence was early found to be "thick inlaid with patines of bright gold." Likewise, it was soon discovered that the mind was a cauldron which when heated mingled marvelous elements suitable for rich embossing. By a process similar to metallurgy, those alchemists learned to separate the substance which permitted grace from the more mineral matter of existence. Since the mind may therefore be considered thus composed of precious metals, I have often wondered why we are not more armor-plated than we are, and how it is our silver sensibilities react. I believe the effects of music in its "many tongued" expressions most clearly show what may be wrought of our emotions, what bronze statuary may be cast from our thoughts. First and foremost among the music intended to mould is the music of Mozart. How can the mind, unless it contains metal whatsoever, fail to become malleable? Aldous Huxley describes the thin foils of delight which the G Minor Quintel produced in him by saying, "Minuetto-all civilization was implied in that delicious word, the delicate pretty thing," or, "How pure the passion, how unaffected, clear, and without clot or protension the unhappiness of that slow movement which followed-pure and unsullied." And then the malleable emotions are molted. I think it interesting that in connection with metals, chemists speak of solid solu- tions, for that term expresses precisely what Mozart would create in us, a molten feeling, lest the bliss become powdery and shapeless, since, without form, no sensation can be communicated or sustained. The uanal- loyed spirit swells with the vibrations of trumpeting. The trumpets also are of metal, clarioned "sweetness and light." All the luster of assurance makes its silent answer. The metals of the mind have been annealed. In contrast to these effects, the surfaces of hearing can be tarnished with the sulfurous disappointment in much of romantic music. Also, the many-keyed metals of the mind clash. l have often heard sound assume this leaden weight in Tschaikowsky's clanging codas. Furthermore, in music today, the blast furnace principle seems to have become popular. The mind is required to react violently, not so much for the sake of action, I think, as for the sake of violence. The music of the atonalists seems bent on toughening what the romanticists unadvisedly made ductile. Thus, if the sound-box of the brain were made of any substance less Forty-two THE SPECTATOR durable than metal, it would long ago have cracked. As it is, we can hear many sounds, and still be able to listen to music. Hence, I am bound to conclude that the alchemists who sought the golden capacity of the mind discovered the metallic nature of man's spirit, realizing that an otherwise mineral existence could be mined by the brain. And that those metals, plastic and durable, would often be fash- ioned nobly, and in no case so nobly as by the sculping effects of sound- Waves' O 'Clabaugh '42 The War Through the Eyes of a Four Year Old lohn is necessarily very aware of the war, for he constanly hears it blasphemed, lauded, and discussed among the family and over the radio. After a recent broadcast in which the Bed Army was often mentioned, Iohn organized his thoughts and approached me with a dissertation on the war. He knew that the fighting was going on in Europe and had de- cided that was where all the bad people were. If it weren't for the bad people, he said, there would be no war. I know not whom he classifies as bad people. Probably he doesn't either. At any rate, Iohn decided that there would be no war if only the bad people could be put into jail. However, he realized that there were neither enough policemen to lock up the great numbers of bad people nor enough jails. He said they would probably hide under houses where policemen couldn't find them. Therefore, he concluded that the Red Army must fight until all the bad people were killed. This last statement brought to my mind Iohn's morbid but hilarious view of death. His mother remarked that Iohn is growing up in an age in which the value of a human life is growing to mean less and less. As concerns Iohn, this is true. He hears a report over the radio that so many thousand men were killed. Killed? "Does that mean that they are dead, Mother?" asked Iohn. He thought it very funny that people should be dead and buried in the ground. On the other hand it must be admitted that Iohn has never had a close acquaintance with death. He has not experienced the loss of any member of his family or anyone very close to him. However, his con- stant concern with death and his hardened viewpoint of it, caused un- doubtedly by the war, are bound to influence him later. Coupled with Iohn's view of death is his brutal View of the enemy. He told me that he hated Hitler. This sentiment was probably provoked by his grandmother's remarks about that wicked man, Hitler. Iohn said 'that Hitler ought to be kicked in the pants, to be put into a pot on the THE SPEcTA'roR Forty-three stove and boiled for supper. This statement at the dinner table shocked the family tremendously but amused lohn. To me, the importance of this statement is that Iohn remembers it. He repeats it constantly and each time with added glee. Additional hatred toward the enemy is shown by the fact that Iohn and his friends use the name of the enemy as terms of insult among one another. There is one little girl in the group who is older and sometimes domineering. The children call her Hitler. But the greatest insult that they can give is to call someone a lap. Beside calling each other lap or Hitler, Iohn and his friends carry the game of war even further. Their favorite past-time is bombing Tokyo. One aviator sits on top of the slide emitting noises and producing gyra- tions that are supposed to represent a diving plane. The other children pretend they are the enemy. They stand on the ground armed with bean poles and operate anti-aircraft guns. However, Iohn is also vitally concerned with civilian defense. After Pearl Harbor, his grandmother said that she wanted to do what she could for defense. Iohn looked rather surprised and said, "Why, Grand- ma, you couldn't build a fence." His mistaken impression changed as the war progressed. Now he thinks that defense means that everything must be saved. Iohn saves paper, tooth paste tubes, his old rubber boots, his old metal toys. In fact, hardly allows the rest of us to throw anything away. Although Iohn appears to be not at all worried over this war, he is very concerned with one phase of it. Can Santa Claus get around next year what with bombings and anti-aircraft guns? Or will Santa Claus be drafted? Even if he can come, what can he bring? Iohn knows that most toys are made of steel and tin which he says are needed by soldiers in the Army. He has decided merely to wait until next December 25th for the answer. Thus from childhood impressions, it is difficult to tell how this genera- tion will grow into a world at war. If anything, they will be more hardened to it than their parents were. Marilyn Wellemeyer '42. Description Being a doctor's daughter might have its many advantages, but waiting in the car when he is visiting a patient is a definite curse. The time is usually late afternoon, when the sun seems to go out of its way to be hot and fiery. As soon as the doctor steps into the house, a flock of children troop out, and stand, with mouths open, staring at me, as if I were a poisonous Forty-four y THE SPECTATOR snake. After they have seen their fill, they, to my utter horror, proceed to beat on the car. When they have discovered that it will not fall down, they walk slowly down the street, and I am left alone. Time marches on, and I begin to feel like doing something, so I try to find a book to read. But all I can discover is the Tourist's Map of New Orleans. which I have already read six times. Upon looking around, I see a fly trying to get out of the car. I watch it a minute, then obligingly lower a window and let it out. The sun is sinking, and the street lights are turned on. I am begin- ning to be very hungry, and the fragrant odor of cooking doesn't make me feel any better. The sky is rather dark, and I can now occupy myself by counting the cars that pass by. I still haven't lost my appetite. Then I turn and see Daddy coming out of the house. He walks slowly to the car, puts his bag in the back seat, and says: "lane, I was thinking about you when Mrs. Harris gave me that piece of cake, but I couldn't very well bring you any." lane Alsobrook '44 A Brief Resume of My Easter Holiday I have at last discovered a cure for the introvert-a cure which may or may not be permanent Caccording to the casei-but which never fails to work for at least a brief period. This cure of which I speak is remark- ably simplep one may effect it in any number of different ways-watching a baseball game, riding a horse, swimming, playing tennis, in fact in doing anything which entails exposure to the sun. There is something about a face red and raw from over-exposure to the sun's rays which attracts one's fellow man. lPerhaps it is merely the fact that it is so conspicuous-I do not know, and I shall not endeavor to explore the mystery. It is enough simply to say it is so.7 Even the most shy and retiring soul must eventually succumb to the demands of every- one who beholds him-and try to explain Cas if it weren't evident what has happenedl. One is not safe anywhere from prying eyes and the inevitable questions-the street car conductor, the girl at Holmes, the milk-man, all are eager to know the details, however, ghastly. Although I heartily recommend this cure for the introvert, I still be- lieve the old methods more satisfactory if one is, for example, looking for a husband. It is true fish are attracted by bright colored objects, but they are hooked only by swallowing them. Likewise, a well-cooked meal has greater powers over a man than a well-cooked face. THE SPECTATOR F0rtY-five Mocking Quotations Aragon-The absent are like children, helpless to defend themselves. Berea-The most unhappy of all men is he who believes himself so. Blish-She neglects her heart who studies her face. Burns-There never was a fair woman but yet she made mouths at her- self in a glass. Caffery-It is said that God is always on the side of the heaviest battalion. Clabaugh-Such labored phrases in so strange a style, Amaze the unlearned and make the learned smile. Clark, Amelie-Thoughtful, disciplined, intended inaction. Clark, Anne-Brevity is the soul of wit. Demarest-Down on your knees, and thank Heaven for a good man's love. Durland-Strong feelings do not necessarily make a strong character. Eaves-Mind your speech a little, lest it may mar your fortunes. Farrar-How poor are they that have not patience. Faust-Spare your breath to cool your porridge. Gibbens-Hell is full of good intentions. Greenwald-Come forth into the light of things. Gould-The sex is ever to the soldier kind. Hamilton-East, drink, and be merry! Havard-A mighty hunter, and her prey was man. Hecht-But all in good time. Iackson-At every word a reputation dies. Keyes-My book and heart must never part. McDonough-The kitchen is my shrine. McGivney-Rest, rest perturbed spirit! Moran-Some persons do first, think afterward, and then repent forever. Nunez-It is a great evil as well as a misfortune to be unable to utter a prompt and decided "No". O'Hara-She had a head to contrive and a hand to execute any mischief. Pugh-Rest is the sweet sauce of labor. Smith, E.-l'm a bad dog, a mad dog, teasing silly sheep, I love to sit any bay the moon, and keep fat souls from sleep. Smith, K.-A bitter and perplexed, "What shall I do?" is worse to man than worst necessity. Thomas-Why should the devil have all the good tunes? Verlander-Coquetry whets the appetite. Wellemeyer-Youth is always too serious. Wiener-Her innocence, a child. ' Witherspoon-What right have we to pry into the secrets of others? Wogan-He is as mad as a March hare. Forty-six THE SPECTATOR Mississippi Episode Quoted from a story told to my Great Aunt's Great Aunt up yonder in Mississippi by a bum who was always setting up to the big sto'. "Well, Bud Thomson come along Main street as usual every Sattidy mawnin for to git the groceries fer them folks up to Dry Gulch Ranch. There sure were not any reason to call it thet but they did. It were not any bigger than any of them truck farms . . . Well, anyway, Bud come along as usual. He wuzn't so new around but he wuzn't old neither. I-Ie had come down from Ohio near about two years ago and thar wuzn't much nobody knew about him except thet he wuz still nuthin but a reg'lar worker over to thet Ranch, faithful as he wuz, too. Other boys they got premoted, then they'd git fiahed when they had drunk 'too much, but Bud, he jest stayed like he wuz, never drunk, never fiahed, and never premoted. Now, usually Bud would stop a second by the post office tl guess he wuz a-hopin thet he'd git a letterl before he Went to the sto'. But I ain't never seen him git but one yet, and thet one wuz to tell him bout his maw up to Ohio twhen she diedl. Bud left town round then but he come back agin a month later and he got himself thet same ole job up to the Ranch. Now I jest always sorta knowed thet boy hed somebody up to Ohio thet he knew becuz he musta always been expecting thet letter from somebody, and so he jest musta known somebody to git it from. Bud he never would say nuthin and then we always did think it wuz good to mind your own bizness, so we ain't never asked him nuthin. Well-anyways-I'm gittin off my story bout thet day Bud was com- ing down Main street as usual when sudden-like thar wuz a pistol shot and everybody looks around and sees Bud stagger and fall down. They start runnin over thar to Bud, and a big bunch gathers and they're yellin to git a doctor and givetBud air and stand back. I wuz runnin over thar when I seen somebody tlooked like a gall runnin to beat the band round down by Slick Trotter's house. She wuz runnin away and so I run after her. When I got by the house thar she wuz settin all crumpled up by thet house cryin like all git-out. It sure wuz puzzling me and I ain't never seen thet gal around these parts before, so I asked her what wuz wrong. She looks up scared like and starts off cryin again. Wel, I jest can't stand to listen to no woman cry, and specially not no gal, so I asked her agin what wuz wrong. She slowed up about then and between her snifftn she said thet she wuz cryin bout killin somebody thet she didn't wonta kill but thet he hed been engaged to her and had no right never even to write her or come see her up to Ohio, even at his maw's THE SPECTATOR Forty-seven funeral he didn't come to see her or talk to her none, and thar she wuz livin with her brether and his wife and even when she hed sent her brether down here to git him to come he hedn't come and he hed told her brether he didn't have nothin to do with her. But-thar's so many little things what happened and so much talkin we did, but we wuz finally fixed up and the truth wuz found out. Bud wuzn't hurt so bad and all thet girl's brother had said wuz lies cuz thet boy jest didn't like Bud. Thet gal, she really loved Bud, and him her, so they got married soon and not sech a long time after Bud wuz made head-worker up on the Ranch and them kids even got their own house. So you see, he did know somebody up to Ohio, after alll" "By Gol1y" '43 How Weeping Willow Trees Got Their Name On the snowy peak of Mt. Olympus, in the ancient time of Greece, lived the Gods and Goddesses who ruled over the world. These Gods, some of them beautiful, most of them strong, and others cruel, spent their days in feasting and fun. At the bottom of this majestic mountain lived Meanus, the Goddess of Cruelty, with her only daughter, Sylvia. Sylvia was as sweet and lovely as her mother was cruel and mean. For years she had endured the hardships forced upon her by her mother without complaining. Even though her mother was cruel Sylvia loved her deeply. However, one day in a fit of rage Meanus banished her daughter from the palace and sent her out into the wilds without food or drink. The poor child was terrified at the situation which con- fronted her. After several days of wandering she fell down, weak with exhaus- tion and hunger, into a little clearing surrounded by friendly willow trees. The willow trees, seeing how tired she was, decided to protect her during the night. In the middle of the night a faint murmur dis- turbed the quiet of the small glade. It was Diana, Goddess of the Moon. She bent over the sleeping child to find her dead. The trees realized that their watchfulness had been in vain. In unbearable grief they bent their heads and wept as they gazed upon the still form before them. Diana then tenderly lifted the girl in her arms and disappeared into the night. Some folks claim that a small star may be seen close to the moon. This star is the soul, they say, of Sylvia, and to this day the willow trees have not dared to lift their boughs heavenward after failing in their watch. Betty White '45. Forty-eight THE SPECTATOR Character Study She was christened Helen Dorothy Grigsby much to her disgust and uses that as an excuse for all the kicking and crying she did during her first few months on earth. She began school at six and loathed it from the beginning, and, though exceedingly briliant, she hated studying and did as little as possible. At nine, while crossing the street, she had a "nightmare"--as she calls it, for on crossing she saw a truck four feet away heading for her at full speed and she couldn't movep her feet were as thought cemented to the street-"like a nightmare." Next thing she knew, she was in a hospital in a plaster cast with a leg broken in three places. Dot stayed in bed for a year. Finally she was able to walk on crutches and again began school only to have her leg become infected soon after. She was operated on twice and missed another school year. Having recovered, she was extremely upset and was sent to camp to avoid a nervous breakdown. Here she became Counselors' Enemy No. l for she spent her time making pie-beds twice a day, filling pillow cases with "hoppity toads" and broken dishes, total bill for two months of fun -3450. Thoroughly cured, she was placed in convent Cand don't ask whyl where she skipped Latin classes to go talk to the hired man who was much more interesting than Caesar. He taught her how to smoke and she kept it up in memory of him. Now nineteen and in college, Dot is forever being chased by those of the opposite sex whom she treats unmercifully. She breaks dates to go out with girls, stands up boys who range in looks from Apollo to Clark Gable, and was voted the most popular girl in a school of a thousand. She cusses like a sailor among her most intimate friends, smokes a pack of cigarettes a day, despises alcohol, drives like a maniac, and is the only girl of high society in her city that has worn a path from her house to the pawn shop. She sleeps with lipstick on, hates cold cream and powder, and, in spite of it all, is the best-looking girl in the city. Grigsby's passions are horses, smoking, and above all, flying. Against her family's wishes, she has taken up three planes, one which she flew over her home where her mother was in the yard admiring it. When the fond parent was told who it was, she fainted. Dot adores horses blindly, has had four, her favorite being one she bought from a peddler for S5 because it looked so underfed and sick. The horse died two months later and she bought a black dress and wore it for a week. Her pet abominations are jitterbugs, boy-crazy girls and road hogs. She loves "Stardust" and lazy music and can't dance to a fast piece: THE SPECTATOR Forty-nine she shakes her shoulders like Carmen Miranda cmd does the best rhumba this side of Cuba. Once she gave S10 of her lunch money to the March of Dimes because she knew "how those poor kids feel," and had to pawn a solid gold football given to her by one of her ardent admirers in order to live the rest of the month. She loves to reform people by setting a bad example and though somewhat crazy and headstrong, she is undoubtedly the most likable and sweetest girl I have even known. '43 The Cabbage Miracle The cabbage-and it seems strange-has been woefully neglected by the philosophers as an object for aesthetic contemplation. When we consider, in the praise of women, to what pains the poets have put them- selves to thrust aside the diabolic and behold only the angelic, it seems indeed lamentable how few the sighs of admiration which the queenly cabbages elicit. I am inclined to think the cabbage has baffled even vegetarians because of an enigmatic reticence on the part of this bras- sicaceous plant which I attribue to a significant equivocation in regard to its life, surroundings, and indeed its whole appearance, here, for the first time, I believe, exposed to proper enquiry. First, it must be known in what regions the cabbage is most pleased to flourish. This I think can easily be answered-in the mountains- where rain falls through no great filter of grey smoke, where the soil sleeps on no flat, springless bed of plains-in the mountains where the rain drops in its pristine crystals, and the land lies pillowed among mossed boulders. Here, in the mountains, as in no other region, the sun is hot, the wind cool, and the ground moist. Here the cabbage with its fibrous abundance stands in contrast to the threadless frugality of lone- some ridges which for centuries have cloistered these lands which in- troduce the grass to clouds. Here where the growing season is briefest, summer is a most munificent and vigilant attendant of her crops. It is no wonder that the cabbage is indigenous to the Appalachians where it can grow over the deep breasted hills, although its roots are short. F rom the farmer in those regions, the cabbage receives due homage as a staple vegetable. Beyond this, however, a close understanding with the cabbage is impossible for him, since he lives with it far too in- timately ever to suspect the presence of any qualities which do not nourish him in his immediate need. When he has eaten his plate of slaw, his soul has no further appetite. He, the master of the ploughshare, has no sympathy with that which can not be dug out of the stolid ground. Fifty THE SPECTATOR But if while he sleeps we glide among the patient rows of cabbage. the green leaves, purged of all but their essence, shimmer with a mystic chill in their bath of silver. Meanwhile the beaded mists permeate the porous ground, newly raked. Now, the blades of moonlight touch each plant with a sort of royal accolade. Then, as the light diffuses, each wrinkled leaf seems like the sliced cerebrum of some thoughful phantom. How charged with secret animation each lulling second. Close by, a glowworm slips in the cabbage heart. Far away, the cabbages are ruffled ovals set against the indigoed indifference of the slope. Unable to see now beyond the fancies which circle in the brain, alone sleepless, and but half-enchanted among all these remote realities, spills its reason as it stoops among the cooled globules, fringed with silver, which, none- theless, seem all the more unreal for being thus caressed. The reality of the inanimate is far more shadowy than we suppose. What happens to the cabbage, merely wholesome by day when it stares into the moon by night is beyond all ordinary powers of speculation. How fragile and delicate each plant which studs the furrowed black with its mercurous sepals. How utterly equivocal remain the silent cabbages. Carmer '42. Impressions As the young man stepped through the door, he could hear the loud humming of voices. When he sat down at the piano, he ran his hands gently over the keyboard, as if it were dear to him. Then he be- gan to play themes of familiar pieces. He realized that people were all about him in the room. He could hear the gruff voice of a big man who was talking to his hostess. She had on a soft and fluffy evening gown: he had touched it as he came in. She was toying with her necklace. He could also hear a group of men over in the corner who were very much interested in the stock market. Two women with high pitched voices were discussing new recipes and domestic problems. As he struck the first cords of Tschaikowsky's Piano Concerto in B Flat Minor, he knew everyone would stop and listen: he knew that his hostess would stop flitting from guest to guest, he knew the men, in terested in the stock market would stop and listen: and he knew the two women discussing domestic problems would stop their chattering, for the music was so familiar and beautiful. He knew all of this, because he studied the people about him. Their natures, voices, mannerisms, and everything but their faces meant nothing to him, for, you see the young mmcim was blind' Gloria Ratchford '45. THE SPECTATOR Fifty-one Air Raid Air raids at school were considered a perfect pest by the whole school, especially the teachers. They loathed them even more than the girls, who had got over their novelty by now and were getting tired of being waked, night after night. On one particularly cold night in December, just before the Christmas holidays, there was a rather bad raid, a raid which was at the same time rather amusing. When the air raid siren went off, Anne and Nancy woke up as usual. "Oh! bother," exclaimed Nancy, slespily, "why do they always have these blasted raids just when I want to sleep?" "Don't ask me," replied Anne, "I like them even less than you do, which is something." "Come on, we'd better get started," Nancy said, "Oh, drat, why do these crazy Germans always come the nights I haven't any ot my raid junk near?" "I don't know, but I do know that you'd better buck up if you don't want Matie barging in here demanding why you aren't outside in the corridor," replied Anne. The two girls finally got to the stairs when Anne suddenly remem- bered her gas mask. She dashed back to get it, but ran into Matie, alias tlze Matron, who was seeing that every one was out of her room. "Oh, I'm sorry, "apologized Anne," I didn't know you were in here." "Evidently, or you wou1dn't have charged into your room the way you did. What do you want? Your gas mask as usual, I suppose. Well, get it, and hurry up." Anne rummaged around, finally found it, and joined the rest of her form in the corridor downstairs. "Found it?" asked Rachel, who had heard of Anne's exploit from Nancy. "Umph," replied Anne. "Lucky for you Matie let you in. She didn't let me get mine when I forgot it, the old meanie," joined in Lillian. "Come on, girls, you really are the slowest snails I ever saw," called Miss News. "Buck up, Lillian, I'm almost stepping on your feet, and, anyway, I want to get a decent place on the floor tonight. Last time I was too late and I had to sleep on the benches, which I can't stand." "All right," said Lillian, "'don't get cross now 'cause I had to do the same thing, and whose fault was it? Yours, Miss Nancy Whitman." "Oh, dry up and leave me alone," said Nancy, "Miss Melon told us Fifty-two THE SPECTATOR to keep quiet when we got outside. So you'd better before she catches you." They all filed into the shelter to find that the benches were the only places left. "Why on earth do we always get the left-overs?" cried Anne. "Because you're such a darn slowpoke," Nancy replied. "Keep quiet down there, or I'll report you, as everyone is trying to sleep and you are all causing a row, as usual," called Miss Melon from the other end of the shelter. "Push over, Nancy, and stop poking me in the eye with your toe," said Anne, irritated. "I will if you'd only let me get somewhere," replied Nancy. Gradually they all fell asleep until the all clear sounded, and they all charged back to the main building to find it still there, worse luck. Io Rogers '45 O The Wolf Dog I was sleeping when it happened, but when it did I woke up suddenly and listened. It was a long, shrill cry. I pulled the covers tightly around me for it's cold in Canada. Listen!-there it is again. It's the cry of a Wolf--a lone Wolf, not rnore than a few feet away: it's "Peza." I know you're wondering, "Who is Peza?" Well, about two years ago, when I was out hunting I trapped a Wolf cub. I brought the poor, half frozen thing home and gave it food and a place to rest. I kept him as a pet and he grew up with me. He and I were devoted to each other. It was funny, during the night when wolves would cry out in the distance, Peza would take heed and growl. He acted as if he wished to follow them, but he made no effort to do so. Some of the natives around here kept telling me to let him go back to the wild with the rest of the pack or else something dreadful was going to happen to him. I thought they were just superstitious, crazy, half-breeds: I kept Peza. Well, to get back to the present, that warning given by those "crazy- men" flashed into my mind. I listened tensely again. No, I couldn't hear the cry any longer. I thought about Peza and rushed to see if he was still chained outside where I left him a few hours ago. Yes, he was there-dead. I stopped and looked. His throat seemed to be cut by sharp teeth. Wolves teeth? Was that true what those half-breeds had said? Do wolves really come back and punish their kind, or is this just a story? lean Gibbons '45. THE SPEc'rA'roR F ifty-three Mama's Day Poem fln honor of Mrs. Yancey with all due respect to William SJ Six hours of the day we are at school With only one protection-Mama Yancey, Alas: We are all the sons of Mama's house, And all the daughters too. But fie, Are we not real? Do we not have ears, Eyes, nose, throat, and dimensions, dear Mama, If you squelch us, do we not wither? If you jest, do we not laugh? And if you frown, do we not flunk? Alas, but do not worry Mama dear, Perchance we're bad, and sometimes wond'ringly ask To be bad or not to be bad, that is the question. We dood itl For, if 'twere done when 'tis done, Then 'twere well it were done quickly. But look we up and see our Mama Y. Sitting like patience on a monument, Smiling at grief. And then we are sorry, And feel that the quality of mercy is strained. Bold in spirit, but weak in words we speak "If our speech offend a noble heart, Thy tongue may do thee justice." How wrong we were. Not mad, but all smiles is she. Some are born great, as was our Mama Yancey. But we are old. We leave our dearest Mama, We know tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow We shall ask, "Mama, Mama, wherefore art thou, Mama?" And she will answer, "There is something rotten in the state of Denmark." Fifty four THE SPECTATOR School News Well, everyone was glad to come To school again, but holidays Had got us rusty, so with some Great effort, we have changed our ways. And now, we get up early and We've had exams, those little tests Of what we've learned and how we stand Oh teacher, dear, we did our best! Our Senior baby picture day Was one continuous surprise Of which the greatest was the way The Seniors all were recognized. The prettiest was wee Dottie And as I say, they didr1't change. The cutest was that girl named Gould. Oh nature is so strange-so strange- The banquet given for the girls Who keep our basket-ball inflated Really was a merry thing Which further was illuminated By alumnae, and the choice For next year's captain, loan Guibet Congratulations, Ioanie girl For Sportsmanship that you display, We can't forget our Founder's Day In which the whole school took part! The lower school put on a play That really was a work of art. Then shortly after this sucess, Came Senior Baby Day, and squirts With suckers flying left and right And rattlers, dolls, and tres short skirts. It was real fun, but when the time To eat arrived, the whole school knew That our enormous appetites Were not a baby's retinuel THE SPECTATOR Fifty-five Then May Day was a lovely scene, And Heaven showed a colored sky. I'm sure the Seniors felt like queens And PETER PAN was cute as piel Speaking of queens, Miss Nunez made The lovliest I've ever seen. Also Monk and Pat, her maids Were quite as fetching as the queen. Well, that's the news, but wait awhilel Before we go, the Seniors want To say farewell to our ole school That someday we'll be back to haunt! KATHLEEN SMITH O Exchange Back again for the second and last time this year, with all the old friends and two new ones! The first newcomer is THE QUILL from Staten Island, Staten Island, N. Y., a magazine which, of all the exchanges, is the most like the SPEC- TATOR. It contains editorials, alumni notes, a page on sports, a large literary section, and, along with other things, a newly formed Exchange Department. Their Exchange Editor has indicated that she will criticize other magazines and "these will criticize the QUILL-Hand: fromftheseftre- marks our editorial staff hopes that improvements in the OUILL will fol- low." Therefore, criticism is in order. Every section of the QUILL is interest- ing and well-done, and a large amount of advertising tshowing much hard work? undoubtedly accounts for its excellent appearance. "The Contribu- tlon Page" is a unique column, rarely found in school papers and maga- zines. This magazine represents the literary best of the school and is on the whole very serious, but during these times of war, a little humor in any form always helps a lot. A light or witty poem or perhaps a joke here or there would make THE QUILI.. the perfect school paper. THE CUSHING BREEZE from Cushing Academy is still tops with us. Their exciting Winter .Carnival in February which was well written up, makes all of us in the south envious of the snowly northern winters. Their column called the "Bronze Boy" always gives delight. Iokes are not out of fashion. THE SEMAPHONE from Milwaukee Dawner Seminary has a joke column called "Humor-Us"-how are these: F iffy-SIX T HE SPECTATOR Betty: I was in the dumps today so I bought a new hat Ianet: Oh, so that's where you got it. Poem of the Weak Falling on my face, I swear A little man upon the stair Is not so disconcerting as The running board that isn't there. Another humorous column in THE SEMAPHONE is: Why Mothers Get Gray - n n 1 - . . . . Mother: fanxiouslyl What made you stay out so late? Did you have a flat tire? Dawnerite: fdreamilyl No Mother, I wouldn't call him that. Dawnerite: Mother, what is a bachelor? Mother: A bachelor, dear, is a man who didn't have a car when he was young. THE SEMAPHONE has an excellent addition, a page called "Literary Supplement" which contains a number of good poems and stories. The second newcomer to our list of exchanges is the BUGLE from New Orleans Academy which gives us very interesting and amusing reading. "Ye Knights of the Bathtub" is very amusing and deserves comment. Daintiest waist, cutest Adam's Apple, and Most Cherub Knees are among the standards for the Senior Beauty Contest on the ballot printed for the use of the underclassmen. THE BUGLE has its serious side, of course, in military notes and editorials. In addition I would like to acknowledge the receipt of recent editions of THE WHITEWORTH WHISTLE, THE LOYOLA MAROON, THE SCIENCE STUDENT, and THE GAMILICAD. It is always hard to say good-bye gracefully but I can assure you that I have enjoyed reading al lthe exchanges and hope you will all be back to greet the new editor next year. BETSY HEZLETT ,.l,i-i-O...il.1- THE SPECTATOR Fifty-Seven 'as S 31 -W Q Q, 0 U' "fp x 2 A ,.l "Leave 'M' along Larry," is now Brucie's war-cry. Charlotte says, "I Sewanee-I just got Georgia on my mind." Which one will "Winn" Coats? Martha thinks it's a "Lon" way to Christ School-and vice versa! Say Nancy, We hear you've got Roy's ring for "friendship" Mmm- what's your definition of friendship? Take that "Muniot"-King affair. Don't let a certain "Bobby Woolf," Barbara. Ioel "Chinks" that she is really in love and she "Sher-Wood" be to refuse another AKS2's pennant. Some gal!! Watch that Berkes girl-she's Robin all the boys. Three at once. Imagine! lt seems as though the Mike Bassich-Baby Smith affair has finally Peter-ed out. OT.....l. Jokes A rnan returning home in the early hours saw a notice on a factory door. It read "Please ring the bell for the caretaker." He bave the bell a terrific pull, nearly dragging it from its socket. Shortly a sleepy face appeared. "Are you the caretaker?" asked the man. "Yes," came the reply. "What do you Want?" "I just want to know why you can't ring the bell yourse1f." "Fishing?" "Naw, just drowning worms." Then there was the absent-minded prof who sent his wife to the bank and kissed his money good-bye. On second though maybe he wasn't so absent-minded. Fifty-eight THE SPECTATOR It A I t 'Ki Mary Allen Jackson f I N 1 H Edmor Brown ' , Maude ' ' 1-:lien ' , ' O . , 0 f 'I f Q R A Farrar ' ' ' - ,Y-.I 3 Lv V f i Y ' r Mary John Vlaraarei Hhs Todd Glennv -EL Wiegand Boys Ann Burdett v I-'erqi lean Gibbens 1 Tedd Q Z Schmi X . X f 0 457, .ron 7:2 1002: 7o'7. won, -H90 O A frosh is or fellow who when invited to o Coeds house ond the light fuse blows out, spends the remainder of the evening trying to fix it. "Why does CI bee buzz?" "You'd buzz, too, if someone took your honey out and nectar." THE SPECTATOR Fifty-nine Baby: "I'm positive that was a human being that we just ran over' Dot: lin a thick foal "Good, then, we're still on the road." Connie: "Lemme chew your gum?" Patsy: "Upper and 1ower?" fkf O T Help Uncle Sam Buy Alr P"'neS FRIEND Tanlrs , Complimen+s of .3 mf suns . . . s T A M P s BUY WAR AND HELP STAMP OUT THE AXIS! L71 opal n Sfamps are Sold af Our Office New Orleans Public Service and Flowers Inc. Complimenls of AUDUBON STABLES NONA RUTLAND For Sporl' Fashions K R E E G E R ' S Sixty THE SPECTATOR The drunk tottered along the curb. Several times he slipped off the curb into the qutter. Each time he clambered onto the sidewalk again. "Long stairway" he muttered. PANFIELD PO RTRA I TS BY PHOTOGRAPHY Weddings - Miniatures - Copies -.,E+.k3,,.- ISI9 JACKSON AVENUE PHONE RAymond 06I6 NEW ORLEANS ARAGON'S VOGUE FLOWER SHOP "Flowers For All Occasions" I755 Prytania Street Phones: RAymonct 9828-9829 THE SPECTATOR Sixty-one An angry kangaroo suddenly yanked its offspring from its pouch and smacked it across the snoot, exclaiminq bitterly: "I'11 teach you not to eat crackers in bed." 611625 III U sl-lop AT HGLMES FoR ALL YOUR NEEDS U III D. H. HOLMES CO. LIMITED CHOICE CUT FLOWERS HENRY KRAAK FLORIST I425 Eleonore Street' UP1own H98 Sixty-two THE SPECTATOR A man bought the only remaining sleeping car space. An old lady next to him in line burst into tears, wailing that it was oi vital importance that she have a berth of the train. Gallantly the man sold her his ticket, and strolled to the telegraph office. His message read: "Will not arrive until tomorrow. Gave berth to an old lady just now." "Are you the girl who took my order?" asked the impatient gentle- man in the cafe. "Yes, sir," replied the waitress politely. "Well, l'll be darned," he remarked, "you don't look a day older." For Girls' Apparel . . Sl-mop A+ Mill 0N Blv4NL'flf Buy Your Graduation GPRS Compliments of a at FRIEND Ne'H'e Nicholls THE SPECTATOR Sixty-three Little Iennie Mc., while Walking dutifully to church, which she at- tended religiously every week, saw a poor little robin with one of its wings broken lying on the grass. So she picked it up like the good little girl she was and when it became well and strong again, she let it fly away into the big blue sky. Now, youse guys, let's se you try to make something dirty out oi this one. Grace: "I see that George asked you to marry him. Did he tell you that he had proposed to me." Catherine B.: "No, but he said there were some things in his past life that he was ashamed oi." The Store that Appreciate: your Petronege Gus Mayer Company, Ltd. Mein Store-823 Canal Street College Shop-Broadway and Freref I 1 93 5: A ff sooooeua nous w own vu: uw Need Drugs? Call Cire's Pharmacy Philip Monte, Prop 6l0l Hurst Sf. UP OIO6-OIUT FAST DELIVERIES SCHEINUK Compliments of a The Florisi. FRIEND JA.26oo zeoo sr. CHARLES AVENUE HAUSMANN, INC. JEWELERS The Store That Makes Your Rings 730 CANAL STREET STUDENTS ARE WELCOME TO VISIT OUR FACTORY Sixty-four THE SPECTATOR AUTOGRAPHS


Suggestions in the Louise S McGehee School - Spectator Yearbook (New Orleans, LA) collection:

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