Montclair State College - La Campana Yearbook (Upper Montclair, NJ)

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FLY INN UNIT ARMERETTES ' Homes, sang out the bus driver as the big, lumbering Pater- son-Bloomfield bus stopped outside a house in Richfield. Every one inside y the bus began to scramble out as quickly as possible to view her prospective camp. The sentiments of the girls were expressed by several characteristic exclama- tions : Good night, is this the place? Look at the windmills! Are the people Dutch? Smothering kittens, what ' s coming? We looked down the road, and saw a big truck approaching, loaded with furni- ture. iMovin ' day, surmised one. Where ' s it going, anyway? as the truck turned up our driveway. Let ' s go see. I bet it ' s ours. So saying, we hurried up to the house. We were met by the driver of the truck, and a woman who turned out to be our next door neighbor. Are youse de farmerettes? asked the driver. That we are, said Helen Cozier stepping to the front. A ' ell, dis is your foiniture. Oh, it is, is it? Thanks, inuch obliged. How do we get in? This from a chorus. Here ' s the key, said our next door neighbor, handing one to Alice Briggs. Open her up, Al, said Margaret Falconer eagerly. What a sight met our horrified eyes ! Desolation stared us in the face. Dirt and dust lay thick on everything. After we had recovered a little, we helped the man in with the furniture and then proceeded to clean house. Our uniforms having arrived, we thought we would initiate them by wearing them for the first job. With much laughter and a helping hand here and there, we finally got into them, and stood ofif to observe the wonderful effect. We borrowed rags and a broom and scoured that house from top to bottom. Many hands made light work of our task, and soon a livable house presented itself before our approving eyes. Ellen Kaveny, weary from her unaccustomed labor, leaned against one of the walls to rest when some one called her upstairs. She started to go, but, alas, she stuck fast. We finally extricated her, and after that we were careful to keep our distance from those walls. We examined our furniture, and found that we had bureaus, chairs, army cots, lamps and tables, but no stove. However, we decided not to let a little thing like that worry us and began to set up the cots, and arrange the other articles to suit out taste. By that time the supervisor arrived — and the cook. The latter, a stout red- faced Irish woman, came puffing up the stairs and dropped down on a cot which squeaked its protest. Merciful Hivins, fhat ' s this I ' m a settin ' on, a hammick? she gasped as the cot began to sink to the floor under her ponderous weight. No, it ' s an army cot, said the supervisor calmly, yet with a face twitching with suppressed mirth. Is this all a body ' s got to slape on, may I ask? Why yes, I ' m afraid so, ' ' replied the .supervisor. Well, I ' d niver trust mesilf on the likes of thim for a minute. Why I ' d be slap- ing on the floor in no time. And where is your kitchen? Is this it? My gracious, 31

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JUNIOR RED CROSS FOR 1919 Montclair Normal School is justly proud of its activities in Junior Red Cross work. The class of 1920 has followed the example set by former classes and has donated generously to all Red Cross drives. The following articles have been knitted since September, 1918: 47 sweaters, 3 scarfs, 4 wristlets, 18 childrens ' garments, 151 socks. The schools of Montclair donated $1,700 to the Junior Red Cross. This money is being used in equipping a school at St. Christophe, France. The barracks where this school is held were donated by the French Government, but the children of Mont- clair are supplying everything else — even the salary of the teacher. We are glad to have had a part in this wonderful work. This year we were the first school to go over the top in the Red Cross drive. At twelve o ' clock one day it was announced that the drive would open the following morning. As soon as a class had one hundred per cent, it was to enter its name upon the blackboard in chapel. What a story that blackboard would tell if it could talk! What sights it beheld before the sun was up ! But the dorm girls can talk, and they can tell — each with added color — just what happened. About 5 :30 A. Af . a Senior B hurried to school, crept to the side door, nearly frightened the watchman out of a year ' s growth, marched proudly to chapel, wrote her class in large letters, tripped home again, and went back to bed until morning. The Juniors, however, were wiser. They knew that in order to meet their heavy daily burdens, they must not loose a moment ' s sleep ; so their names appeared farther down the list. But to tell the whole story ! At 9 :io that morning we had a record of one hundred per cent. It is a record of which any school might be proud. It is our fondest hope that the classes which follow us will ca rry on this work which former classes intrusted to 1920.

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aint ' s ye got no stove? Sure and how do yez expect I ' m gonna cook widout no stove? I ' ll be taken mesilf home I guess. But if ye git a stove and a dacint bed, I ' ll maybe come back. So saying, she departed as she had come, leaving behind her a group of girls lying prostrate on the floor, chairs and cots, screeching with laughter. When the bus came to take her home, we waved her a fond yet relieved farewell and decided to do our own cooking. Our stove arrived in due course of time, and we plunged into the mysteries of cooking. We had planned to work in squads of two each, one squad to get dinner, one to clean up, and one to put up lunches for next day. Each girl was to get her own breakfast and then she could go to work when she pleased. Later, we fell into the habit of going to work at different intervals, some at six, some at seven, and a certain two, who felt more comfortable in bed than in any other place, at eight. However, we were to work eight hours a day, no matter what time we started. By the time we had finished unpacking our belongings, we were about famished. We scurried around, and after a trip to the little two by twice store around the cor- ner, we managed to fill our aching voids. Supper over, we heated dishwater over a bonfire, washed dishes, and put up lunch for the next day. Then we congregated in an upstairs room where we sang and talked until eleven-thirty, when we retired — each to her respective bed. I said retired, perforce, for we slept but little. If you have ever lain on an unmattressed army cot for several hours at a stretch, you will appreciate our experience. Here is Ruby Jensen ' s (nickname Rube ) original definition of one of these affairs : An army cot is a weak trembling structure whose surface is a series of unexpected hills and valleys and whose vocalization is one squeak after another. Another drop added to our cup of comfort that first night was the musical chorus the mosquitoes played and the tatoos they beat upon our faces and arms. Our house was screenless as well as stoveless, so the flies and mosquitoes had full play. The flies went on duty in the dewy morn, and did good work until the moseys came on at night, whereupon the flies would retreat to the ceiling to roost there and await their turn. At five-thirty the first morning, Alice Briggs, nicknamed Al, arose to the occa- sion and started breakfast. At six, all eyes were opened, most of them by force. After breakfast, we set out to work in twos, with our bundles of lunch under our arms, leaving the supervisor to keep house. Our first day on the job will never be forgotten. We were introduced to a carrot patch, and after having been shown the di ference between carrots and weeds, we were told to begin. We were highly indignant to be thought so ignorant, for hadn ' t we labored painfully in our little four by four gardens at school, visiting them twice daily to search for weeds, lest one should dare show its face above the ground, and be seen by Miss Barrett ' s watchful eye? However, we decided to grin and bear it, but re- solved that some day we would show them how much we knew. We began the end- less task of weeding by kneeling down. Then we stood up to get the cramps from our knees, then we sat down to rest our backs and dragged ourselves along in the dirt. Then we went for water to moisten our parched aesophaguses, and began all over again. How the hours lagged! How we groaned with pain and melted with heat! How we longed for cool drinks and a hammock in the shade ! Finally, our time was up, and we dragged our weary selves homeward, very meek as to spirit, and lame as to back. Our faces were unrecognizable, our arms red as beets and burning like fire, and our overalls filthy. When we reached camp, we compared notes while waiting for a chance at the pump. Our supervisor, who had not been idle during our absence, had tacked up mos- quito netting at the windows, and laid in a supply of eats, for which we were truly grateful. That night we retired early, and really managed to sleen fairlv well, being awakened only now and then by some one ' s cot squeaking, or by Ellen Kaveny talk- ing in her sleep.