Meredith College - Oak Leaves Yearbook (Raleigh, NC)

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The standing in line bore its fruit, and there we were in class. Our vines had tender grapes at times. Classes had just gotten under way which Rush Week was upon us. Rush, that is. For a week gold and purple vied, and ihe newcomers certainly stood to gain, what with dinnertime entertain- ment and light-bell snacks. They may understand next year, however, how it is just as well that Rush Week is just one in fifty-two. The Phil were the winners, but it was neck to neck down the home stretch. That wasn ' t the only way Meredith made the paper, of course. Clippings from newspapers all over everywhere were displayed in the News Bureau showcase. ' Twas pleasant to see Meredith in print. Publicity hounds — that ' s us. All sorts of things happened in the fall. There were football games, epochal or tragical depend- ing on which brain factory the b. f. patronized. Football meant the rallies, of course, out in the front drive. The Corn Husking Party cannot be overlooked, of course, especially in view of the sore muscles resuhing from the square dancing, and the sore throats resulting from encouraging the contestants in the ruralized competitions. The faculty team — we won ' t mention names — certainly flunked the corn husking, but the hog calling would have gotten a C, say. Then there was the week end the place was depopulated for the BSU convention. It was more than just the good time had by all, though certainly that entered into it. And the State Fair — it would not have been fall without it. Popcorn and ferris wheels and spun candy and exhibitions and miles of walking and more to see and hear than could possibly be absorbed — that was the Fair. Something else happened that week with which we can regale our nieces and nephews. We saw the P resident! In fact he went right past our front door. Of course, he was on his way to open the Fair and was late anyhow and so did not stop for tea, but aside from such con- siderations, it sounds like quite the event. As it was an election year, let us pass on. 1 • ■L Ji . TliiV|-iniif ' 23

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And so another year is past and over. There never can be another one like it. we say. and we are right. It was a magic year: it can- not repeat itself. No. it will not come round again: there will never be one like it. ever. This was the year which changed freshmen into sophomores, which brought sophomores almost to the threshold of the senior year, which saw one class go forth, and another come in to renew the cycle. No, the year can never come again, except as a memory — a picture in our minds. A picture of living at Meredith has many lines and colors, many patterns and the fragments of many scenes. It is a kaleidoscopic mosaic made up of more than j ust things seen. Perhaps we can give the outlines of a picture of this year: each must fill it in from her hoard of memories. The first sight of Meredith — all the new names and faces — the lines to be stood in tions crowding to be asked — all these are part of the first few days. Patterns evolved ziness of those days, and those patterns became the background for the picture. But those lin es! After looking at pictures of registration at Chapel Hill and at those of other neighbors we felt we weren ' t doing quite so badly. The thought wasnl so much comfort at the time we were standing, however. There is probably an art to standing in lines, and if we go to school long enough, we may catch on to it. In the mean- time we are looking up a portable chess set and one of those do-gimusses you stick in the ground and sit on at Ascott. The parties and receptions and other get-togethers were a welcome relief from the schedule of Orientation Week. The week vas invaluable in acquiring bearings. However, and when one could box the Meredith campus, it became less a collection of buildings and more one ' s home for the next several years, the frame for the picture which the year has painted. and the ques- from the diz- X 22

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Founders ' Day. nui ii:w al.lr luUal tca l Liuuglit turlli ihr .seinnis capped and gcnvned. and the rest of the college holiday attire to observe Meredalis hali-tentury mark, it was a half holiday, hut was more than that as well. In the midst of all this came Palio and Stunt. The Italian originators should see it now! We have the horse race (won by the seniors), the vehicle-bicycle-race (won by the seniors I , song sing- ing (won by the seniors). The seniors also won the attendance prize, and, as sort of shortcake under the whipped cream, won the Palio banner for their procession. It is probably just as well they did not win Stunt as well or they might not have been allowed to live to see their graduation. They made very good forty-niners, though as a history major pointed out a trifle nas ' .ily. Daniel Boone and the gold rush got somewhat confused. As she was a junior, the source may be considered and the remark ignored. The judges were not fussy about their. chronology anyhow. The freshmen gave riding at Meredith another hand into the stirrup. They had some hectic mo- ments the night before, trying to find jodphurs for everyone, a project they were forced to abandon. The sophomores wistfully contemplated a trip to Mars, while the juniors spent the next several days explaining their Palio which had to do with a nursery rhyme about pigs to market, and the world situation — not the astronomical value of meat as one might have supposed. The juniors had their innings that night, however, when they and their chickens made off with the cup, hotly pursued by the Little Brown Lady. With well-chosen digs at Wallace and others, and puns of a hybrid variety, the Fowl Play laid ' em in the aisles. (Bunny did not pay us to say that.) The sophomore birthday party for Meredith boasted such attractions as talking candles and peripatetic candy cups. The freshmen chose a flower and then, almost as quickly. Palio and Stunt were over for another year. One might add, Thanks be! The latter comment is scarcely intended as disparagement of Palio and or Stunt — it s that the whole thing is rather strenuous, involving as it does, marching practice in the foggy, foggy dew, play practice in the dim noctural hours, and the struggles of non home-ec majors with the intricacies of needle and thread and buttons and bows. But despite the toils and trials attendant upon the big day, Palio is one of those unexpendables like the Bee Hive and week ends. We lack a football team, but we still have our home-coming. The weather man has not been able to discourage us, anyway, though he froze us like little ice cicles last year, and roasted us like little marshmallows this year. 24