Louise S McGehee School - Spectator Yearbook (New Orleans, LA)
- Class of 1942
Page 1 of 68
Pages 6 - 7
Pages 10 - 11
Pages 14 - 15
Pages 8 - 9
Pages 12 - 13
Pages 16 - 17
Text from Pages 1 - 68 of the 1942 volume:
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LOUISE S. MCGEHEE SCHOOL
New Orleans, Lcr.
Vol. 26-No. 2
With Love and Sincere Appreciation
The Staff Dediccrtes This Issue
MISS ELISE MCC-REI-IEE
Vol. 26 IUNE, 1942 No. Z
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
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.
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.
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
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
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
THE SPECTATOR Nine
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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
But dearer than them both your faith once
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.
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' 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.
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THE SPECTATOR Eleven
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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 .
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. '
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Twelve THE SPECTATOR
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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
Like a rich jewel in an Ethiope's ear.
4 Enlered Senior Year, Dramatic Club MJ.
THE SPECTATOR Thirteen
But so fair, she takes the breath of men
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.
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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.
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.
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.
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.
GRACE ELEANOR GOULD
Kites rise against, not with the wind.
Entered Iunior Year, Red Cheerleader C437 Glee
Club 13, 415 Dramatic Club K3, 4l.
True piety hath in it nothing weak, noth-
ing sad, nothing constrained. lt en
larqes the hearty it is simple, free
Entered Sophomore Year, Glee Club CZ, 3, 4l
Dramatic Club KZ, 3, 47.
TQOTJO L, l0'Qf C
THE SPECTATOR Seventeen
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
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MARY ALLEN IACKSON
A daughter of the Gods,
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
Entered Senior Year, Student Council Repre-
sentative C4lg Glee Club 143: Dramatic Club 447.
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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.
ELSIE IEAN MCGIVNEY
Few things are impossible to diligence
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.
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MARIE ODETTE MORAN
Man is not made to question but adore.
Student Council Representative t3lp Dramatic
Club C235 Varsity fl, 2, 3, 4l.
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.
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THE SPECTATOR Twenty-one
Unhurt amidst the war of elements,
The wrecks of matter, and the crash of
Red Cheer Leader fl, 2, Sl, Student Council
Representative Ill: Glee Club tl, 2, 377 Dra-
matic Club fl, 2, 33.
ETHELDRA GREHAM SMITH
Next to invention is the power of inter-
Next to beauty is the power of appree
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
Entered Sophomore Year, Pres. of Choir i477
Student Council Representative C2lg Social Serv-
ice Committee f4J. ' ,
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THE SPECTATOR Twenty-three
To be good is man's most glorious task.
Entered Sophomore Year: Glee Club 12, 39.
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 ' '
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Twenty-four THE SPECTATOR
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
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
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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
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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
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
I, Kathryn Keyes, leave my spot on the honor roll to Donnie Mc
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
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
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.
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.
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
Most Naive .......,.
--.....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
THE SPECTATOR Twenty-nine
-J -.. "'
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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
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
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
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-
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-
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!
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
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!"
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.
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
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.
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.
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.
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.
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."
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.
"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
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
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
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.
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
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
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
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
"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
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-
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
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
Betty White '45.
Forty-eight THE SPECTATOR
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
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
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.
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.
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
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 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
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
"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
"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
"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
They all filed into the shelter to find that the benches were the only
"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
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
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
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!
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
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.
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
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
"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."
"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
Fifty-eight THE SPECTATOR
It A I
I N 1
Maude ' '
1-:lien ' , ' O . , 0 f 'I f Q R A
Farrar ' ' '
- ,Y-.I 3 Lv V f i Y '
Gibbens 1 Tedd
Q Z Schmi
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?"
T Help Uncle
Sam Buy Alr
, Complimen+s of .3
mf suns . . .
s T A M P s
STAMP OUT THE AXIS!
L71 opal n
Sfamps are Sold af Our Office
New Orleans Public Service and Flowers
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.
PO RTRA I TS
Weddings - Miniatures - Copies
ISI9 JACKSON AVENUE
PHONE RAymond 06I6 NEW ORLEANS
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."
sl-lop AT HGLMES FoR ALL
D. H. HOLMES CO.
CHOICE CUT FLOWERS
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 . .
Mill 0N Blv4NL'flf
Buy Your Graduation
GPRS Compliments of a
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
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
Philip Monte, Prop
6l0l Hurst Sf. UP OIO6-OIUT
Compliments of a The Florisi.
zeoo sr. CHARLES AVENUE
The Store That Makes Your Rings
730 CANAL STREET
STUDENTS ARE WELCOME TO VISIT OUR FACTORY
Sixty-four THE SPECTATOR
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