Mount Ida School - Ye Idler Yearbook (Newton, MA)

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41 .S fi .1 Q A EXCURSION THE three of us were staying in a little clock-village in the Black Forest. One day, when wandering idly about its quaint streets, we fell into conversation with a magnificent German oflicer, by whose face and bearing he could at once be distinguished as a descendant of Apollo and Nero, with perhaps such ancestors as Jeanne d'Arc, Caesar, Helen of Troy, and Henry VIII hovering in the background. After a few minutes he relaxed his proud shoulders a bit and asked to be allowed to show us the ancient palace of the Queen of Wurttemberg. Being at heart thoroughbred tourists, however much we denied it to our- selves, we readily consented, saying we didn't in the least mind a five-mile walk through the forest, CAh, we little knew what we were in forlj For about a mile all went well, but then it started to rain--to pour, and we were ready to turn back. Our oflicer, however. wouldn't hear of it: so we trudged on, The deeper we got into the wood, the muddier became the ground, and we found ourselves clinging alternately to each other and the trees, as we slithered and slid about. The fine rain came down in a sheet. plastering, with decisive sweeps, our hair to our faces and our clothes to our shivering bodies: while large, heavy, definite drops from the trees thumped us on the head or back with the force of a blacksmith striking an anvil. Then, as if our misery weren't already great enough, snails-millions of great, scarlet, shell-less snails-came galloping from the leaves and moss with the unanimous idea of a bath while the bathing was good. What a fix we were in! Why had we ever consented to accompany this mad officer on his mad excursion? We were sure that the palace, ancient though it might be, was not worth this misery. But such is the attraction of officers! and we stumbled on, Suddenly we saw our officer, who had gone ahead to ind a short-cut, sprawling full-length in the mud. Very undignified. I was the next to fall, and my fate was worse than his, for I sat on a snail and heard him squeal-- surely he must have, when so rudely disturbed. After what seemed like days and days of heroic floundering, we approached the palace, looking less like three respectable Americans and a haughty German officer than a group of half-drowned rats. Our oflicer would give us no peace, but insistently dragged us from room to room through the palace. We were shown stained-glass windows of the fifteenth century and ex- pected to go into ecstasies. We murmured Beautiful, without enthusiasm, thinking, there are far more cheerful ones in America. Mural paintings-Hat, dead faces were pointed out. They look thought, Has we feel. H561 , WC

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E 2' D L E S OUR OWN CINEMA The Fleet's In -Senior House arrives for breakfast The Devil To Pay -Cutting classes Only Saps Work -Honor Roll The Royal Family dSenior House Rough Waters -Swimming Pool New York Lady -Beatrice Roe Sinner's Holiday -Long Week-end following exams. Private Secretary -Frances Wolf Just Imagine -June fourth All Quiet on the Western Front -Lights Out! The Original Sin -Smoking 'Let Us Be Gay -9:00 to 9:30 L1551

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f 7 X ,if-T' NQE 22210 LEQ ffl 5 N h onks of the twelfth century, Furniture-tables and chairs used by t e m a dressing table of Marie Antoinette's, porcelain stoves-no end of stuff to be admired. Antique beds-one that some Pope slept in, one that Napoleon slept in How uncomfortable they looked! I'd like to be in my own warm bed! we each privately sighed. At last, when we were absolutely exhausted, and stiff and sticky from the mud and rain that was drying on us, we were permitted to sit for a few minutes in some very hard, wooden chairs Cso that We wouldn't go to sleepj . Was it for this We had suffered so much? CLARA KENT. REFLECTIONS The lighted end of a cigarette reflected into a brass bowl, Might seem to be a dragon's eye of jacinth. Light seen through the red of a Belgium glass vase ' ' O a. Might be the dark Hames in a Wagnerian per The shadowy cathedrals on a rainy day Might be a mirage opening on fairylandg And the light in a woman's eyes Might be love, or most anything. MARI.'XN WARRINGTON H571