New Lincoln School - Yearbook (New York, NY)

Page 51 text:

Mr. Donchian had a quandary To core or not to core To student plan or teacher plan To lecture or discuss - So he gave us good ripe eggulant There was of course the time of day when we Got up and went to learn the finer Points Des langues modernesj lesquelles nous etudions Leyendo las novelas y los cuentos. Se asomaron al balcon el enamorado Andres quien viendo a Preciosa se puso palido ylestuvo a punto de perder los sentidor SiJ Sr. Ryskind, eso es eso es eso si que es...Y se dejaba temer I think it means no, it means..Y ahora que estudiemos una historia corta del mundo... Connaissez-vous un bon N'ayez pas peur, Agnes nous ne manquerons pas f . . N nee depuls des siecles jflmflis---et M01'lSi91-11' Emmitoufle a mange, mange, Z . mange until he could manger no more In core we went ahead and learned the How of keeping cards and sorting quotes to find If Andrew's and Natasha's souls could meet Or symbols say the things of word and line

Page 50 text:

There was the time we said, HThis day is first.H l Can't rememher now the way we felt, But newness was the strongest thought, I know. The room they ,ave us then was painted blue, And in that room we learned and planned to find The stuff of fact and thought we wished to know. Good God, Seven weeks and where are we... Our goal for the year: Happiness and how to find it in five easy lessons Do you budget your time... modulate your voice... base your conclusions on fact...? There Came the day we moved to our new room, And in that place of grey and yellow walls We started out to read the greatest book - No need to tell the title of that tome, It came to mean our class with all its sides, The endless time of argument between The camp of pro, and those who were against The thing named core, the word misused and bent. So thus passed time and in the days we found That core could be a hundred different things. Communication was our password then, And Donchian tried to tell us as we jumped From thought to thought, that underneath it all There was the thread of language never lost, Hwhan that Aprille with his shoures soteu Made us wonder if it was of worth UTo suffer woes which Hope thinks infiniteu.

Page 52 text:

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