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

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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.

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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.

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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.