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

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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.

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Fifty-two THE SPECTATOR to keep quiet when we got outside. So you'd better before she catches you. They all filed into the shelter to find that the benches were the only places left. Why on earth do we always get the left-overs? cried Anne. Because you're such a darn slowpoke, Nancy replied. Keep quiet down there, or I'll report you, as everyone is trying to sleep and you are all causing a row, as usual, called Miss Melon from the other end of the shelter. Push over, Nancy, and stop poking me in the eye with your toe, said Anne, irritated. I will if you'd only let me get somewhere, replied Nancy. Gradually they all fell asleep until the all clear sounded, and they all charged back to the main building to find it still there, worse luck. Io Rogers '45 O The Wolf Dog I was sleeping when it happened, but when it did I woke up suddenly and listened. It was a long, shrill cry. I pulled the covers tightly around me for it's cold in Canada. Listen!-there it is again. It's the cry of a Wolf--a lone Wolf, not rnore than a few feet away: it's Peza. I know you're wondering, Who is Peza? Well, about two years ago, when I was out hunting I trapped a Wolf cub. I brought the poor, half frozen thing home and gave it food and a place to rest. I kept him as a pet and he grew up with me. He and I were devoted to each other. It was funny, during the night when wolves would cry out in the distance, Peza would take heed and growl. He acted as if he wished to follow them, but he made no effort to do so. Some of the natives around here kept telling me to let him go back to the wild with the rest of the pack or else something dreadful was going to happen to him. I thought they were just superstitious, crazy, half-breeds: I kept Peza. Well, to get back to the present, that warning given by those crazy- men flashed into my mind. I listened tensely again. No, I couldn't hear the cry any longer. I thought about Peza and rushed to see if he was still chained outside where I left him a few hours ago. Yes, he was there-dead. I stopped and looked. His throat seemed to be cut by sharp teeth. Wolves teeth? Was that true what those half-breeds had said? Do wolves really come back and punish their kind, or is this just a story? lean Gibbons '45.

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Fifty four THE SPECTATOR School News Well, everyone was glad to come To school again, but holidays Had got us rusty, so with some Great effort, we have changed our ways. And now, we get up early and We've had exams, those little tests Of what we've learned and how we stand Oh teacher, dear, we did our best! Our Senior baby picture day Was one continuous surprise Of which the greatest was the way The Seniors all were recognized. The prettiest was wee Dottie And as I say, they didr1't change. The cutest was that girl named Gould. Oh nature is so strange-so strange- The banquet given for the girls Who keep our basket-ball inflated Really was a merry thing Which further was illuminated By alumnae, and the choice For next year's captain, loan Guibet Congratulations, Ioanie girl For Sportsmanship that you display, We can't forget our Founder's Day In which the whole school took part! The lower school put on a play That really was a work of art. Then shortly after this sucess, Came Senior Baby Day, and squirts With suckers flying left and right And rattlers, dolls, and tres short skirts. It was real fun, but when the time To eat arrived, the whole school knew That our enormous appetites Were not a baby's retinuel