Northrop Collegiate School - Tatler Yearbook (Minneapolis, MN)

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THE 1935 TATLER Shirley Atwood Scene: Art studio at 4:30. Rhode Belcher Scene: Humboldt hill at 8:10 a. m. (Shirley and Tommy are each painting an enormous wooden screen. On the floor between them arc sandwiches and a thermos bottle of tea.) Shirley (waving a pickle): You know, Tommy, this is the first not-a-still-life that I’ve ever painted. (She flips her paint brush around professionally, splattering paint all over her chef-d'oeuvre . . . sighs.) I thuppothe I’ll have to put another coat of paint on now. Tommy, I don’t see why! I don’t see why my next idea can’t be painted purple. After one gets to be eighteen one ought to be able to have ideas and to paint them. (Shirley reaches for some tea with a flourish, thus Selah! Shirley.) (Enter Rhoda on way to school peeling a tangerine for breakfast. Puts peels in pocket, where they eventually fall through a hole, making a trail which I.cila and Jinny not too competently follow.) Rhoda (singing): It’s Judy, my Judy! . . . (interrupting herself.) Well, yes, 1 can go Friday, but Mother told me to be in by eleven—which means twelve at the latest . . . ’Course I can’t cat anything ’count of my diet, and my hair won’t curl in front cither . . . Sure, you can borrow my nail file if 1 can find it . . . Ho hum! (Trudges on, scarcely hoping to get to school . . . but keeping an eye open for any car that might give her a ride.) Page 6

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THE 1935 TATLER THE SENIOR CLASS We, the senior class, wish to thank our parents for their gifts of furnishings for the senior room, Mrs. Paulson for the end table, and the junior class for their gift, a lamp. Page 5

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THE 1935 TATLER Charlotte Bulkley Scene: A grey Plymouth convcrti blc, any school afternoon. Ellen Jane Carloton Scene: The kitchen at home any time after school. (Charlotte is talking to the people in the rumble seat. She turns completely around, crooks knee in steering wheel, takes a deep breath and begins): Honestly! I’m so tired. Wouldn't you know? I heard the best record yesterday! Will you go downtown with me to listen to records? Let’s go swimming Friday. I simply have to get a rubber bathing suit! Did you sec that darling dress in Harold’s window, but I can’t get it buckuz . . . ” (Pausing for wind she turns around just in time to swing out of the path of a Mack truck. Continues not at all perturbed.) Well, what was I—oh—buckuz 1 have one like it.” (She turns on the radio and is forced to cease ceaseless conversation.) (Jinny — the other” permanent inhabitant of the Senior Room — surrounded by crackers, cookies, cheese and doughnuts, eyes the lot appraisingly; with a Zasu Pitts gesture): Well, I shouldn’t, but I will . . . Oh! There was something I was s’posed to do this afternoon. What was it? ... By the way, Betty, could I borrow your comb? . . . Thanks, this is the one I nude myself. . . . Oh, there goes the telephone. Hello? . . . O. K. . . . O. K------yeah, O. K-------G’byc! . . . Why, I’m not blushing! . . . Oh, I know what I forgot. There was a Welfare meeting today. Ohhh my! . . . (Leaves kitchen humming, Soon, maybe not tomorrow,” collects tennis racquet and departs.)