Milton Academy - Yearbook (Milton, MA)

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EVERYWHERE There's Water: Laughing to the clouds above the ocean, Mirroring the skaters in the rink, Cascading through the gullies down the mountain And spilling over dishes in the sink. There's Fire: Seething in the craters of volcanoes, Soldering the rivets with a jet, Sweeping over acres of the woodlands, And lighting in 'the dark a cigarette. There's Air: Whirling in the Cyclones of mid-ocean, Moving little cat-boats round the spar, Racing through the lungs of men, and tigers, And filling up the tires of a car. There's Life: Moving in the depths of many Waters, And soaring with the currents of the air, It's up to us to Watch the World we live in And learn of life that's round us everywhere. Rebeclcah DuBois '37 page twenty four HTG ITIGQUS

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up too. I hope, Jane, you had a successful day of shopping and did not break my bank account. Yes, very successful, Alfred. I hope it was not too crowded around Macy's at the rush hour, so that you might have lost something? Why, no! You are always worry- ing, Alfred. But, Jane- Yes, dear? He would have to have it out with her nowg this calmness was too disconcerting. Jane, my dear, may I see your pocketbook a minute, please? Mrs. Turner arose, went to her desk, and returned with the purse in question. Alfred Turner sank upon the sofa. He had taken the wrong woman's pocketbook! Betty Black '37 ADVICE Have you ever lain beside a hidden well And wondered of the secrets it could tell? The mysteries of some past and by-gone hours, Of lords and ladies, of battlements and towers? Have you ever swum beneath the surface blue? Do all the living things look blurred to you? Do they look as if the artist's brush had made Some bad mistake which let the colors fade? Have you ever raced a dingy in the wet And felt your hair grow clammy on your neck? Found that you wrere soaked through to the skin Yet knowing in the end that you would Win? Have you ever stood beneath a tropic night, And watched the southern cross come into sight? Heard waves come slapping softly up the shore, Heard palm trees whisper things you never felt before? Have you ever skiied all day uphill and down And at sunset felt how tired you had grown? Later, stretched before a warm and cheerful blaze, Let your eyes to the fire-Wonders turn their gaze? If you haven't done these many things and more, You'll have missed the best of all life's varied store. When chances come your Way don't let them pass, But keep on saying Yes up to the last. Peggy Twfitchell '36 the ITIGQUS page twenty three li- l.. 1i-1 il

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HEADS AND TALES MALVINA Hoi-'1-'MAN Three years ago I had occasion to visit Malvina Hoffman's superb re- productions of the racial types of the world. The Hall of Man. Un- doubtedly I gaped and oh'ed and ah'ed after the usual manner of a museum visitor. Under that surface of being impressed, little did I realize the rich human experience that was the foundation and essence of each figure. Then I became the possessor and consequent devourer of Malvina Hoffman's book Heads and Tales . Fascinated, I was borne along by the pages through the years when her genius was ripening toward creating the project of her life. Every incident she describes in the book I seemed to be experiencing with her: every character she portrays I felt I knew. I saw as vividly as she the sight that was her first study in the nude and an early artistic inspiration. As an eight-year-old child she had looked from her window once to see a beautiful young woman leap into the morning sunlight from her window, naked, in suicidal despair. Moved by a strange new beauty in the incident, Malvina's sensitive child's mind began its first struggle to solve the complex ways of life. The same pangs of sorrow that pricked her heart touched me as she told of the death of her musician father with whom she had harboured a deep and perfect friendship. She describes her old teachers, Rodin and Mestrovic, and Anna Pavlowa, who was one of the closest friends of her life. 'She made me feel all the trials and all the aspirations of her youthful career as she was taking her place among the artists of the worldg then there wvas the tumult of emotions when at last came the stupendous offer from the Field Museum. I followed her in her travels throughout the world, absorbed by the rich human contacts and new perspectives. I could feel her satisfaction when after five years of hard but fruitful ex- perience her Hall of Man was complete. Miss Hoffman has that power of description and understanding which has made her book a thrilling adventure and inspiration for the reader. With the memories of such an adventure fresh in my mind I hope I may once more see the Hall of Man, for I could look at each masterpiece with a far deeper ap- preciation. Not only could I sense the successes and disappointments, the struggles and the rich experience that went into their making, but now I could be conscious of the personality behind it all. For here was a veritable genius with a sensitive appreciation of the beautiful, a vast knowledge, and a powerful intellect. Yet underneath is a lovable nature, simple and essentially human. Laura. Brooks '39 the fnagus page twenty five