Northrop Collegiate School - Tatler Yearbook (Minneapolis, MN)

Text from Pages 1 - 56 of the 1943 volume:

(DtNNjeAPOUS PUBLIC LIOttAaY The 1943 T A T L E R Published by Northrop Collegiate School Minneapolis, Minnesota Ethel Maude Spurr Marion E. Goodale Christine Kinnaird Madelaine X. Scott Mary F. Hale Ethel K. Pease Ruth Heintz Lynch Hlauche Barnhart Miriam P. Clianibers Babctte I. Brown Frances Arrieta I .aura Jepsen Eleanor Moen Catharine Cram Jean Duncan Roinaine Root Ruth Rorstad 1 lelcn Shoemaker Mary Cummings Jean Cummings Isabella Marzolf Elizal eth Savage Sheila Kragness Maude Thompson Gertrude Rosemond Norma BierbauerJ Kathryn Martin ( FACULTY ...............................Principal DIJ.I+C. • Mathematics, Executive Asst. - E'£ CL • • • • French . .1 . . . Mathematics ...................Fre ch ......................English .....................................History ....................................Science .....................................Spanish ...........................English, Latin ................................Mathematics . . . . Speech, Creative Dramatics .....................................Art .....................................Music ...............................Librarian ......................Physical Education ......................Physical Education ......................Science, Sixth Year ...............................Fifth Year ................................Fourth Year Lower School French ................................Third Year ....................................Piano • ...........................Executive Staff TRUSTEES Albert H. Crosby, President Robert C. Woodworth, Treasurer Mrs. Valentine Wurtelc, N ice President Huntington Brown Mrs. Benton Case George D. Dayton, 11 James E. Dorsey V. Hubert Kennedy Dr. Elizabeth Lowry Mrs. Lucian Strong Miss Elizabeth Wallace : .t I • !v| Arthur M. Hartwell •••••• • • •• . ’-Mrs L. A. Eggleston, ex officio Mfs SttujrCl nc:ArCv';ex offido : OFFICERS OF THE PARENTS AND TEACHERS ASSOCIATION Mrs. L. A. Eggleston............................................President Mrs. Arthur Geggie...................................First Vice President Mrs. Franklin Crosby, Jr. . . . . Second Vice President Miss Mary Hale.................................................Recording Secretary Mrs. E. P. Stacy..................................Corresponding Secretary Mrs. R. H. Bennett.............................................Treasurer We dedicate this 1943 Taller to Miss Jean Duncan as an expression of our gratitude for her constant inspiration and for her unselfish service to Northrop Collegiate School. TATLER COMMITTEE Editors: Jean Beaverson — Jean Hersey Assistants: Jean Campbell — Carol Greeinvaldt Easiness: Rita Ann Rotering Ruth Ann 1 lermann Prudence Purdy Snapshots: Patsy Clifford — Elizabeth Young Susan Ervin — Patty Kennedy Marlyss Shedd — Ann Cosgrove Stanley Brooks — I lelen Tearse Joan VVurtelc Typist: Rosita Hofmeistcr Peggy Wilsey Advisers: Miss Brown Miss Kinnaird A axy jCdd Jlowe. “ Tis In-tter not to lie. than Ik- unhappy.” —Drydcn Lee-Lowe “W hy do I always get so involved? quote: Mary Lee. If you listened to her you might think that our class president is terribly inefficient, hut you would have the wrong impression. Mary Lee’s chief confusion comes not from school hut from her outside social life. In the two years that she has lieen at Northrop, Mary Lee has taken an active j art in both the Glee Club and the Dramtic Club. Her skill in sports has twice won her a place on the Varsity Hockey team and has made her the seniors’ choice for their basketball captain. Mary Lee may he recognized from afar by her blue-black hair and her red coat. Her olive skin and dark brown eyes are distinctive. r vi Weggalteggers fancij £.Cizalje.tfi “She's lieautiful and therefore to l c wooed.” —Shakespeare If you’re ever looking for Walters, you will prnliahly find her down in the Art room where she lends her artistic talents to an amazing number of creations. Nancy is also accomplished in figure skating, but her abilities don’t stop here. She was president of the Dance Club this year, and secretary-treasurer of the senior class. Nancy has lots of problems , but they aren’t the kind we would mind having. She has quite a time deciding if her heart belongs to Minneapolis or I)es Moines and keeps the class in a quandary over it. “Beautiful but dumb is disproved by Nancy, for she has stayed in the Senior Room all year and her Grecian profile is the envy of us all. Waiters, who entered X.C.S. in her junior year, is going to the “U next fall where she will undoubtedly continue her enviable record. ithia Cj.£.anna cz fucliiit “Let the world slide —Beaumont and Flecker ‘ Hello kids —this familiar expression accompanied by a training face greets us every A.M. Cynthia is an ardent collector of jewelry, and we often wonder where she got that Shattuck belt. She has the exclusive honor of lieing our only real red-head. (We might add that others have tried to rival her without much success.) Cyn is always ready to kibitz at bridge, and her infectious laughter at our dull jokes does much to cheer us up. She came to us from Bemidji, California, and P°ints North, South. East, and West. Cynthia has been an addition to our class, and we are glad she spent her senior year with us at Northrop. Ashley dl lariCyn Zty f ‘‘Few things arc impossible to diligence and skill.” —Dr. Johnson One of the art room’s most familiar sights is Marilyn landing painstakingly Over a poster. For Marilyn has been one of Dunkie’s most faithful—and most artistic students. Her heart lies in the held of fashion design, and she has put this talent to an enviable use in making her clothes, blithely altering the | attern as fancy dictates. A senior who has missed a history class’ usually asks, “Where are Ashley’s notes?” for Marilyn is as neat in taking notes as she is about everything. Her own unruffled appearance contrasts vividly with the horrid asj ect of many another senior. Marilyn is endowed with a lovely soprano voice, and she has not only l een an asset to the Glee Club but has also given much free time to volunteer singing at patriotic rallies. Marilyn, with her many talents, will undoubtedly shine at the U. of M. next year. Barker Joan is one of those versatile people who do almost everything very well. She has l)een one of our most outstanding scholars as well as a dependable athlete. Every hockey season she dons ski boots and mask to defend our goal; she won her chevron this year. Joan has taken a very active part in the student government, serving on the League Council as secretary and as vice-president. Barker has also supplied the Glee Club with a firm and melodious alto for two years. Joan seldom writes about anything except China, but her literary efforts are both original and skillful. Yet probably we envy most her warm security in many thick letters and the eventful orchids, roses, and telephone calls from a far distant army camp. Sadly, Joan will travel to the opposite coast next fall to enter Wellesley. Beaver czrfnn P Rave. ±on I love a teeming wit as I love my nourishment.” —Jonson Here we have the haby of our class. She uion't let us print the exact statistics so you’ll just have to take our word for it. Beaverson has an inexhaustible spring of enthusiasm which is inspiring for the rest of us. Along with this enthusiasm comes a bubbling good humor and more often than not. you will find Beavie chuckling over something. Jean has been at Northrop for the last two years, and has made quite a record for herself. In the Dramatic Club she made a name for herself as “Bunibu”. In the (dee Club she amazed us bv changing from a soprano to an alto over the summer. Then we must not overlook the fact that she has been a very able co-editor of the Spectator and Tatlcr, We have no doubt but that our “baby will make quite a place for herself at Wellesley next year. )M[axion l o'iyhiU iSiunidaU “A daughter of the gods, divinely tall, and most divinely fair. —Tennyson Brunsdale “Great balls of fire!’’ echoes, and Miss Goodale’s math class raises its eyebrows. With this original expression Marion, one of this year’s additions to the class of ’43. comes bounding out of the Senior Room and races toward the lunch room. There she remarks, “Oh, what a wonderful lunch—I’ll l egin my diet tomorrow.’ All of the seniors admire her powers of concentration, her good nature, and her long blond locks. Her immediate concerns seem to l e her Latin vocab and her German, so she makes a bee-line for a comfortable chair and studies—completely unaware of our noisy disturbance. She is a member of the Athletic Committee and a most accomplished skater. Marion’s dependability and easy going nature will make her |x puiar and happy at W ells. La Dunn J oxothy z' cLI £ izLz unn “Ability wins 11s the esteem of the true men. —Im Rochefoucauld T’was a lucky clay for the class of ’43 and for Xorthrop when Dorothy toddled into nursery school some thirteen years ago. Since then she has had a colorful career serving as President of the freshman class, assistant treasurer, then treasurer of the League, and finally as our League President. Here we must also mention the fact that for three years she has sung a vigorous second in the Glee Cluh. She’s lK en a busy girl! But enough of her achievements, for an entire list would take too much room. Dorothy, for years now, has listened to all our griefs and troubles. One often hears around the senior room “Dorothy, 1 have a problem . . .” and Dorothy Dunn becomes Dorothy Dix. Tactful and understanding—Wellesley, we give you our leading citizen. nxaldCnz fndxe.wi lidUy “Curiosity is one of the permanent and certain characteristics of a vigorous mind.” —Dr. Johnson Gerric Gridley is one of the more brilliant members of our class. Her avid disections in biology will long be remembered by that scientific group. Gridley has many accomplishments; she is a clever and scientific bridge player, also she writes lieautiful English prose and j oetry. Gerrie is jmsscssor of a gorgeous lily-white complexion which we all envy. She is always ready for a good argument and would lie a valuable asset to a debating team. Her dry observations have been a constant source of amusement. Gerrie has been a memlierof the Spectator staff for the last two years and lias bad difficulty getting her newspaper assignments in on time. Gridley is going to storm the “U” next year in her own inimitable way. d Z[cviy Jlouiie. A fair exterior is a silent recommendation.” —Syr us Mary One. two, three,—one, two, three . . . and thus Haley logins the exercises that have helped her keep her reputation as the senior with the tiniest waist. Mary is another newcomer at Northrop this year, and a welcome one indeed. Her ability on skates will no douht lead her to fame in the Ice Follies. We are looking forward to seeing her as an ice star in the near future. Mary Lou is a member of the Dramatic Club, is famous for her home-runs in baseball, and is one of the reasons that the seniors won the basketball tournament. £U 2 “So I have heard, and do in part believe it. —Shakespeare Ifersc Watching Hersey prepare to leave school in the afternoon ltas afforded us much amusement but also some gnashing of teeth. To hurry would he unthinkable, and so Hersc will probably live to a rijK. old age. Hersey is always ready to plunge into a good argument ora deep intellectual discussion, but she does have her lighter moments. As co-editor of the newspaper, she can Ik seen periodically rushing around gathering copy and despairing liecause a few wayward souls have no copy to give her. The Tatler has been her other problem child; with its meagre budget, the year book has really l een a problem. (Herse’s other problems include Hahvahd vs. Vale.) She joined N.C.S. and the Dramatic Club as a junior, and added her voice to tlie second sopranos this year. She moves on to Kadcliffc in July. Hary Mill 'liaiy ( I Vfictnioxs Mi(t “We know nothing of tomorrow; our business is to Ik good and happy today.” —Coleridge Xo matter how early any of us may arrive at school, Mary is always there to greet us. At 8:29 Mary's pleading voice is heard above the Senior Room shouting, The Juniors are going in her vain effort to get us to chapel on time. This fall Mary amazed us with her portrayal of a store manager in a dramatic club play— the first time she has emerged from her inconspicuous but necessary work behind stage. Mary has also done a creditable job selling War Stamps, a job none of us envy. In summer Mary sjxmkIs much time on a ranch. Outside of school she is the only one of us to have a steady job. Besides her cheerful disposition, Mary is noted for her willingness to laugh at almost any joke, no matter how feeble. Next year she intends to go to Smith where her plans for a career are still uncertain. “Sober, steadfast, and demure.” —Milton Zita Reineml)er the wonderful Mexican costumes and jewelry that were in the case outside the library at the l eginning of the year? Most of them belonged to our Scnorita. Zita. She is fond of anything that is Spanish. Whenever we see fuzzy angora socks, huge flowers in people’s hair, and bright printed blouses we'll think of Zee. Amid the din in the Senior Room you can sometimes hear a strange unexplainable gurgling language. This is probably Zita performing for a fascinated audience. Even though she was new at Northrop this last fall, many Xorthropites remembering the open house she gave in the summer after a Woodhill felt like old friends of Zita’s. Next year she ho|)es to go to the University of Arizona and plans to major in Spanish. I S. Zita is the darling of the Tatlcr editors, because she typed most of the senior biographies! Lyman d iuxy c ftULauU jCijinan “Never seek tr� tell thy love. — flake Mary can usually Ik- found playing a new practical joke on someone, or industriously painting her summer house at Minnetonka, while we lie idly in the sun. Her past is a great mystery to most all of us. and she still keeps her private life to herself. This year Lyman captained the senior hockey team into winning the cup: she headed the Art Committee, and wrote the Alumnae column for the Spectator. We admire Lyman’s artistic talents—and proof of her ability lies in the fact that she received a national art award last year. She accepted the red tie last year, too, as president of the junior class. Her future is hazy at the present, hut we know that her nonchalance and good spirits will continue. ace. dl [a Lette Happy am I ; from care I'm free! Why aren’t they all contented like me? —Opera of La Bayadere Grade Have you ever walked past the Senior Room door and heard gales of laughter breaking the silence? If not. you have never heard those subtle remarks of our N.S.S.G. chairman. Grade with her radical ideas has sent us all into prolonged discussions and often to the brink of knock-down-drag-out lights. Since her entrance at Northrop in the seventh grade. Grace has blessed us with her good humor. She has long been a member of the N.S.S.G. and has lent her talents to the Dramatic Club. Ten years from now we shall probably find Grace in the state legislature fighting for negro rights, and in her spare time flying West to her favorite ranch in Montana or East to her work camp in West Virginia. Grace, with her efficiency and dependability, will be a welcomed student at Smith College. Though she Ik hut little, she is fierce. —S liak es f carc Dolly Gay TIME: 8:29 PLACE: Senior Room ACTION: After racing madly down Kenwood Parkway in her little cream, at times grey, (we’ll settle for beige) Chevrolet, Dolly can be seen dashing for the senior room in one of her successful attempts to make the door before the tardy bell, but this is only the beginning of her terrible day at school. Perhaps Dolly’s small appetite accounts for her numerous disappearances during lunch | cri Kls, or is it-? We never can Ik quite sure where Dolly's mail (or male) will pop up from, but it’s sure to come from one place or another. Beautiful, but dumb may apply to some, but not to Dolly, we mean the latter part does not. Liza e.th KI funfit iJ tttiion “Her voice was ever soft, gentle, and low; an excellent thing in woman.” —Shakespeare Betty Betty has recently acquired a new outlook on life. And she polishes it continually—of course we mean those new glasses of which she is so proud. With those sparkling eyes and her contagious laughter she will always remain a immanent fixture in our memories. Skipping into the Senior room after lunch, Betty settles herself in a comfortable position on the floor and calls. “Who wants a fourth for bridge?” Since her entrance at Northrop, in the third grade. Betty has supported, letter than anyone, all projects of our class. She is a member of the Dramatic Club and the welfare committee: she contributes her resonant alto voice to the Glee Club and makes practically all the posters for school activities. An active and amiable member of Northrop, her good nature and sense of humor have kept the Senior Room in good spirits through many a gloomy day. JShe.fi aid KJ-sli£.[j2S She's all my fancy painted her. —Mcc Rie Rie returned this year from Sandia and with her came the fad of wearing feathers in the hair. She is the envy of her class for her petiteness and for her frequent trips to Shattuck. She is known for her rare health shoes and her entertaining dances in the Senior Room. Her favorite expression is How dismal ’, and she has a constant fear of taking study hall. Rie also has a fear of being laughed at, although we all laugh with her and are amazed at her wit. She has been a successful Glee Club President and she has with apparent ease managed to stay in the Senior Room all year. •i'S, 'V t — ■ 'LPrudsncE £t ( wuia “Up, up, my books. friends, and quit your —IVordsivorth Prudy In her earlier years Prudy used to amuse herself by drawing Dick Tracy’s profile; now she confines her talents to the more conventional forms of art and is one of Dunnkie’s able assistants. Prudy, we predict, will Ik the first one of the class to Ik married. Prudy was co-business manager of Publications, and left-wing on the victorious senior hockey team, and she has served on the chaj e! committee. Prudence was a new arrival at X.C.S. this year, and her originality, vitality, congeniality, etc., etc., etc. make her—P rudy. Rita zftiha z fnn dfiyotziinc) “Ah! you flavour everything: you are the vanilla of society.” —Sidney Smith “Good morning. Miss Cram! Go xl morning. Miss Root, Hi. Margie! etc. A morning wouldn't he complete without Rita's good humor to cheer us up. She entertains us all with her rhythmic boogie-woogie playing, but she is always entertaining—whether playing, singing, or just being Rita. She has displayed her talents as president of the Dramatic Club and as co-business manager of the Spectator. Her year-round coat of tan maintained without the help of a Florida sun keeps the senior class under sun lamps trying to keep up with her. Rita is one of the class wanderers—she left N.C.S. last year, but we l enefited by her return for her senior year to alma-mater, and she’s a priceless part of the priceless Senior Room. ( Victoria ' Lrauaxt Simnioni All’s well that ends well. —Shakespeare Tom- Tom’, one of our most versatile members, has been with us since the seventh grade, and goes from us to Vassar. During that time her athletic ability has made her outstanding among her classmates, and has won her the position of chairman of the Athletic Committee. Her hair raising tales and her tap dances in the Senior Room will long be remembered by all. Tom 's the only Democrat in the class and can often be found engaging in a knock-down-drag-out fight over political convictions. The naturally wavey hair Torry possesses brings her many compliments everywhere she goes. She has one of the l est senses of humor of the class, and when not in the corner whispering to someone, she is usually putting some senior into hysterics. I loot sic dl axa LluiL tU Jbutton “Beauty cost her nothing. —Chap wan Boot si e was one of our new additions to Northrop this year—too bad her entrance and exit had to Ik so hasty. Her famous jK t jx eve is being called Mary Isabelle whose cute little cream convertible can Ik viewed from the Senior Room almost any Thursday afternoon—huh. Boo? Cute as a bug’s ear, is our Bootsie. We all agree that Bootsie is one of the most unforgettable characters we’ve ever met, and we're still wondering how we ever got along without her pretty little beaming face and cheery personality l� efore—need we say more? iSailraia £cvix “Her ways arc ways of pleasantness, and all her paths arc peace. —Old Testament B. J. Swirles can be found almost any time of the day imploring, “Please ask me my Latin vocab.” Though she insists Caesar is ruining her life, we are sure she will recover as soon as finals are over. She's been at Xorthrop a total of nine years and is the only senior, besides Dorothy who was here in kindergarten. Rather reserved, yet always able to have a good time, Barbara remains calm no matter what may hapixMi. She is a member of l� otli the Dramatic Club and the Glee Club and is also skilled at thinking up weird and various excuses for gym—p.s. they usually work. Determined to learn how to flv and have her own airplane. Swirles’ college plans lie in the deep South. Undaunted by her struggle with Latin she is going to attempt Spanish so she’ll know what they’re talking about when she starts flying over to South America. She’d like to explore the Far Fast also, but learning Chinese is absolutely out. Luch Jlucia z ? unoCcli 1ZTeaxiz We should only Ik astonished at still he-ing able to Ik astonished.” —La Rochrfoucauld As the fire engine rips by school, we see Lucia running down the street not far behind. She has long Urn known for her excess energy and her “happy-go-lucky” manner. Her spicy humor, her many stories, and her unconventional ideas help to break the routine of school. Her greatest pleasures in life are teasing some one to the point of exasperation and telling tall stories. She is a member of the Athletic Committee, and an enthusiastic participant in all sports, especially skating. Lucia’s quick teni| er is very characteristic, hut we know she's only teasing l ecause the next minute she gives way with her winning smile. Here’s the gal with that coy attractiveness that all men seek, especially one, they say, from G.P. to say nothing of the many local swains. Judy’s beauty is more than skin deep, for she’s always happy and never out of sorts or grouchy. You can always find Judy tearing into the Senior Room full speed ahead with a happy “hello”, and giving everyone that get up and cheer feeling. She’s now headed for college, and we wish her well, but predict, if war doesn’t get her, matrimony shall. Wcrler iBaxbaxa Qmis, ( 1 VjjCu. “A merry heart maketh a cheerful countenance. —Old Testament If you are ever looking for Wylie, five times out of ten she is to he found sitting on a Kindergarten chair in front of her locker blocking traffic. From that lowly position she adds witty remarks to the Senior Room conversation. As Entertainment Committee chairman. Barbara was a hit amazed to find that the list of seniors’ escorts for the League Dance included Clark Gable and Allen Ladd. However, the dance was a complete success as was the “Old Girl's Party for the New and the seventh and eighth grade picnic. In her junior year “Wylie was one of the seven gods in the Dramatic Club play, and she has sung “second in the Glee Club since her arrival two years ago. In addition to her interest in Briar Cliff, where she will he next fall. Barb also has “interests at V.M.I. and at the “U”. Top left: I lie remains of a hard weekend. Top right: Kockettes at leisure. Kmo 2. left: Look at Tru-ax’s Klassy tan. right: Pillsbury’s best. Kmc 2, left: “And then Fink said to me— renter: Juniors in the raw! right: Joey’s all set and ready to go- Kmc I, left: Black Magic in action. right: Monday morning camouflage. Row 5. left: “The White-man’s Burden. right: Slab No. 3— County Morgue. Kottoin left: Column's getting 4F’s for the duration. renter: V arious reactions toward the word men. right: Man shortage jitters. II Tof : Left: Powers Girls. Center: More Powers Girls. Right: Le Maladc I magi noire. Left: Powers Girls. Center: Tickle Mutt and Jeff. Right: Believe in signs, Sally? Left: Batman. Center: She dood it. Right: Silly, isn’t it ? Left: Worried. Bottom: Left: Powers Girls. Center: A mouse! Right: Goldfish got stuck. Top left: Atlas Adams. center: “Down by the Old Mill Stream. Man shortage. rit lit: The professional touch. Row 2, left: 'Phis can t last. right: No—it’s an apple. Row 3. left: It can’t Ik. that had. center: Studying??? right: Glamour. Rot tom left: Kinda cold, isn’t it ? right: Those Angelic smiles. SENIOR POLL Favorite Pastime: First—sleeping. Second—bridge. Favorite Year in School: First—senior. Second—eighth grade. Favorite Local Establishment: First—maillx x. Second—Senior Room. Favorite Place for a Date: hirst—Excelsior. Second —I just want a date. Favorite Topic of Conversation: First—men—but not Blake hoys. Second—me. JUNIOR POLL Most studious.......... Biggest arguer......... Wittiest............... Most constant dreamer Biggest line........... Peppiest .............. Biggest flirt.......... Most talented.......... Friendliest............ Loudest................ ____Janette Johnston ......Sally Atwood Gretchen Knoblauch .....Harriet Jaffray ........Pat Clifford ____Dorothy Barnes ----Mary Alice Oss .....Helen Bennett .....Babbie Young . Romainc Hickerson SOPHOMORE POLL Best Dancer: First—Mary Wurtele. Second—Judy Winton Most Likely to Succeed: First—Susan Ervin. Second—Jean Dunn. Din (jest Hater: First—Baba Cole. Second—I udy Winton. Cutest: First—Judy Winton. Seamd—Patty Kennedy. Mary Wurtele. Snappiest Comeback: First—Marge Campbell. Second—Elizabeth 1 ,ynian. Betty Kennedy. Biggest Feet: First—Gertrude O’Donnell. Second—Marge Hayes. FRESHMAN POLL Biggest Eater: First—Nunan. Second—Cosgrove. Third—Long. Most Engaging Smile: hirst—Ritz. Second—Denny. Third—Benson. Loudest: First—Cosgrove. Second—Nunan. Third—Gamble. Most Polite: First—Adams. Second—R itz. Third—St i Ison. Friendliest: First -Lyman. Second—Shedd. Third—R itz. ' ' left: 2:30 Friday. center: Suited Sisters. right: Nut and bolt. Reno 2 left: center: right: 7:30 Monday. Ringling Sisters. Please smile! Row 3 left: Brule tool. center: Last round, Brown's down. right: Cleopatra. Reno left: right: Eight sevens. “Any Bonds Today?” Rot tom left: That's the sister, Joan. center: Esther, who is it? Smile?—No! GRIN! right: Might be Dwight. Top: Left: All in a row. Right: Three Little Maids from School. Left: Tree Top Climbing. Right: Wishing Well. Left: Last Fall. Right: A sliding we will go. Bottom: Left: Four fifth graders-j-yc Olde Wooden Gate. Right: See-Saw. Marjory Daw. HISTORY OF THE TROJAN WAR Part I—Judgment of Paris Once long ago in Thessaly, When Peleus ruled the land. And chose a goddess for his wife A wedding feast was planned. Both gods and goddesses were there, But one was left l ehind; Kris had not been asked to come For she was far from kind. So just to seek her own revenge Into the crowd she threw An apple made of gold inscrit ed: “Fairest, I am for you.” Then Juno, queen of all the gods. The wife of Jupiter, And Venus and Minerva too. Each said it was for her. Now Jove, who did not wish to try To judge who was the fairest. Told the goddesses to go And ask the young Prince Paris. He lived upon a mountain top, For when lie was a boy Ilis mother dreamed that he, her son. Would cause the fall of Troy. Because she had believed the dream She sent him far away. And while he grew to manhood, With shepherds he did stay. Prince Paris surely was surprised When out of nowhere came Three goddesses who said to him: “The fairest you must name. Minerva said, “I am most fair, Choose me and if you do Fame in war and wisdom great I then will give to you.” “Give me the golden apple prince,” Said Juno, “I am queen. And you shall have great power and wealth Such as vou've never seen. 9 Said Venus, “I am lovelier far. So choose you me. I pray ; The fairest woman of them all Shall be your wife some day. “The loveliest woman in all the world, Thought Paris, “is for me. He turned to Venus and he said. “The apple is for thee. Then Paris sailed away to Greece, And Sparta he did dwell in. He grew to love the king’s own wife, The lieautiful queen, Helen. Now she was loved by many men, But when she chose the king, Her suitors swore to keep them both From any harmful thing. When Paris stole the queen away Alas, peace was no more. The king and Helen’s suitors Began the Trojan War. Fart II—The War The king sent forth his messengers To villages, to farms; There sounded through the land of Greece The mighty call to arms. One man wished not to go to war, Ulysses was his name. So when the messengers arrived He acted quite insane. He hitched a young ox to his plow And teamed it with a mule, He plowed the sea shore up and down To prove he was a fool. But soon the messengers l egan To doubt that this was true. So on the beach they placed his son To see what he would do. Ulysses came along the shore Still acting very wild, But when he saw his son he turned And did not harm the child. Now poor Ulysses had been trapped, He could stay home no more. He bade his wife a sad farewell, And then went off to war. Now Thetis had a fine young son Who to her was endeared But somehow, deep down in her heart Twas for his life she feared. And when he was a little lad So wounds he would not feel She dipped him in the river Styx And held him by his heel. Achilles grew up strong and brave And when war was declared He wished with all his heart to go, And Thetis wished him spared. So then she formed a clever plan, And made a wig of curls And dressed Achilles in long rolies And hid him with her girls. Ulysses having heard these things Donned merchant man’s disguise And took rich cloth and gems and jewels To dazzle Princesses' eyes. He told each girl that she could choose Whatever she thought ! est And wise Ulysses had a sword Hidden with the rest. Achilles saw, and chose the sword. And then Ulysses cried, “No you must come,” so off they went Together, side by side. Full two long years the Greeks had spent In getting their supplies And gathering many troops of men From kingdoms, their allies. For nine more years the fight went on And neither side could win. Hut still they fought, though highest hopes Were slowly growing dim. At last Achilles with his troops Withdrew and went away Though every noble man in Greece Had tried to make him stay. 'fhe Greeks l egan to lose their ground And things looked pretty black. So Nestor told Patroclus, You go, and bring him back.” Patroclus did his level l est And still he got nowhere, Hut finally Achilles said. My armour you may wear.” Patroclus took the armor then And soon went back to war. Hut he met Hector, and, alas, He could fight never more. His death so grieved Achilles that Wild vengeance then he swore, So with his army and his sword He, too, went hack to war. Achilles called for Hector, and The two lx gan to fight While all the citizens of Troy Gazed down upon the sight. Achilles having triumphed Was proud to see him fall; He took his cart and dragged him thrice Around the Trojan wall. When war and battle still went on, The Greeks knew what to do; The oracle they would consult. For always it spoke true. 'Fhe oracle gave much advice; They followed to the letter. And even though they did these things Their luck did not get lx tter. 'Fhe Greeks now knew they could not take The city Troy by force And so Ulysses told the Greeks To build a wooden horse. They made it high and hollow too. They made it strong and wide. And when they finished, five armed men Were hidden safe inside. ’Twas then the Greeks sent word to Troy That they would sail away. Hut all they did was hide their ships ’Tween islands in the bay. •, s 'V The Trojans now were overjoyed For f cace there was once more. And so they all went down to see The horse upon the shore. The jx-ople all were quite amazed And many Trojans thought That they should take the horse inside. Still others, they thought not. I hit all “ayes” triumphed over “nays” And so within their wall They pulled the horse which was to cause The city Troy to fall. Then late that night out from the horse T he armed men quickly crept And opened wide the Trojan gates While all the city slept. The (ireeks had all returned you see And waited to advance. So when the gates were opened wide They knew this was their chance. They stormed the city and 'tis told They stormed the city well. And so. as it was prophesied, The mighty city fell. Priscilla Adams, IX First Prise TEN YEARS The woman sitting in the little sunroom stared with unseeing eyes down the red and white checkered length of the hospital corridor. The folds of her sable coat gleamed in the light of the shaded lamps. She moved slightly, and her glance shifted from that distant vacancy and travelled slowly down the still hall. Finally her eyes came to rest on her tinv jeweled wrist watch—two o’clock! With a sudden ache she realized that it had been two o’clock—just twelve hours' ago—when she had been going into Elsie’s beautiful home for an afternoon of bridge. She rememl ered clearly everything that hap|)ened at that bridge table. She heard her own voice saying, “Really, I don’t know what 1 can do with John. He simply slaves ail of the time. I wish he would let up and get out of doors now and then. It’s such beautiful, crisp autumn weather.” But she had known that it was not John who wouldn’t “let up’’. She was—yes, it was she who had jjersuaded him to work harder and harder throughout the years. But it wasn’t for herself alone. Not that she hadn't enjoyed lx ing the wife of one of the wealthiest men in town, hut her ambition had been for John’s sake, for the children’s sake. She had wanted John to Ik wealthy and respected. She had wanted the children to have the l est of everything, and she had succeeded. She thought of them now—j oor darlings—Johnny, fourteen, and Peggy, twelve. How could she tell them? They were such children—so young. How could she let them know what had happened? She tried to remember how I)r. Mason had told her. Suddenly, vividly, the picture came Lack to her, complete in every detail. She had been watching her partner play the hand when the maid came into the room. Telephone for Mrs. Markham, madame.” Lucy’s gay call came from across the room, It’s probably that devoted huslxand of yours.” And her equally light answer flung hack, “I doubt it. He doesn’t often tear himself away from his business to call me.” She had gone into the library to answer the phone. As she passed through the hallway, she saw herself reflected for an instant in the big pier glass. She had smiled a little—the reflection was pleasing—a really beautiful woman somewhere in her late thirties. She was well-poised. smart, modern. Tiny diamonds glistened at the tips of her ears; the gleaming black hair was upswept iu a flawless coiffure. The maid had quietly shut the library door so that the noisy chatter of the bridge players would not disturb her. Alone in the large, panelled room, she had relaxed in the corner of a sofa and picked lip the receiver. Instantly Dr. Mason’s voice had aroused her worst fears. Good friend that he was, his voice had l een too kindly and gentle, too unwilling to hurt or startle. Her first fleeting thought had been of the children, but the doctor didn’t speak of them. “Please don’t be alarmed, Maria. It may not be serious, but I thought you ought to know right away. John became ill while at his office a few minutes ago. He's been asking for you. I had him taken to Westfall Hospital.” By that time she was taut, every muscle fully awake, sitting stiffly forward. “What do you mean, ‘ill’, Dr. Mason ?’’ “Why, I’m afraid there’s been something wrong with his heart. Now don’t get excited, hut you had lietter come over to the hospital right away. She had left hurriedly. “I don't know exactly what is wrong. John is ill. She had said nothing alnnit Westfall or al out his heart. She had driven to the hospital as quickly as possible, her mind flooded with memories—sweet, fond memories. She and John had loved each other so much—“an ideal couple her friends had told her. He was such a devoted lover and husband, an abundant provider, and alx ve all. such a wonderful father. “Dear God, please don’t let it l e anything serious. Then there had lxx. n twelve hours of vigilant watch and heartbreak. Twelve long hours while John struggled manfully against certain fate. Suddenly that low, hoarse cry from his lips —then complete, awesome silence— The first sound to break that silence was her own voice—a low moan followed by deep, shuddering sobs. Now that the first numbing shock was over, she lx� gan to think more clearly. The confused memories slipped away, and her haunted thoughts turned to her children. Why was John taken from her so soon? She needed him. If only he could have been spared a few years longer. Ten years is such a short time in the life of the world—but such an eternity in a married lifetime. Johnny would have been twenty-four, and Peggy would have lK en twenty-two— a grown man and woman. It was so terribly hard for a woman to Ik left to rear two adolescent children. Of course she was financially well off. but how could she ever tell Johnny the things a father would have told him? A lw y needed a father to give him advice and help—a father who would help him to see and live by his own principles, his morals, his code of gentlemanly honor. A boy needed a father to teach him sportsmanship, to teach him athletic skill and love of the outdoors. The outdoors—how dearly John had loved that world. He had l een so adept at the different sports, and he had l een so passionately fond of tramping the countryside in all kinds of weather— “Nature is an eloquent, moving force, Maria. Bitter regrets j oured upon her troubled, aching spirit. Why had she ever denied him his opportunities for enjoying this nature he loved? This had been his chief pleasure and interest, and she had mocked him, coaxed and cajoled until—why she could count on her ten fingers the times he had really had a chance to recreate himself in the out of doors during the past few years. She had l een too busy building his prominence in the business and social worlds. Had she lK en a managing wife? Had he Ikcii a “hen-pecked husbandOh no, not John! He was too tall, too masculine, too fine! And they loved each other—completely. Then suddenly her expression changed, froze as the icy cold fingers of a still unborn thought strove to touch and chill her already tormented mind. With a shudder she tried to throw off this thought—strove desperately to prevent it from forming within her own mind. But already it had seized upon her. “Oh, no! Of course not! I’m sure it had nothing to do with his death. A weak heart is a weak heart. Slowly, heavily, the head lxrned. Life without him? “Oh, why am I not dead too? The supple shoulders drooj ed. Heavy sobs tore through the slight frame— Dr. Mason paused in the doorway for a moment, then hurried to the pitiful, crushed figure. His low. comforting voice soothed her sobs. Now. Maria, there comes a time when we must all i art from the one we love the most. You must rally. You must live now for your children. Come, I’ll take you home. Again that dread thought pressed upon her. Was it imagination or was it fact? “Wait—” the first word that had come from her lips in an hour was forced, hard. Doctor, you must tell me. John worked so hard. Was—could overwork have caused this?” “Now, Maria, you must not think of that. John was bound to go early. There is no cure for a weak heart. And you must remember that John loved his work. With some men, like John, their work is the most important thing in the world. It's too bad he didn’t care more about getting a little healthy relaxation. Hut he wouldn’t have lx en happy unless he was working hard. I’m sure, because I asked him to come up and see me for a physical check-up several times in the last few years. He looked pretty bad sometimes. Hut he never came. I imagine he was having little warning tremors then and didn’t want me to know for fear I’d make him stop working. It wouldn’t have made much difference anyway. Perhaps if he had taken very good care of himself—done very little work, if any—it would have meant a few years. Hut certainly not more than five or ten years at the l� est. Now see here, you did all you could by John. I never knew a man more truly devoted to his wife. You must have no regrets. His greatest desire was that you should never know a sad moment.” She didn’t hear the doctor leave the room. She didn’t hear the sound of his voice as he told the night nurse to “get Mrs. Markham's purse and gloves out of room 204.” Hranded indelibly into her memory were the words “five or ten years at l est—’’ She turned and gazed blindly into the dark night and the deserted street l� elow. Dorothy Dunn, XII Second Prise BEACH-COMBING I wandered barefoot in the sand thinking how lovely the sea shore is in the early spring before the tourists come to clutter it up. But will there l� e any tourists this year? I asked myself. “How many will the war keep away ?’’ The war has changed so many things. Our lives are regulated by rules such as these: There shall Ik no fires on the lieaches night or day. No light whatsoever shall show at night. No cameras shall Ik taken to the beaches. There shall Ik no sailing outside the harbor at any time. In years Ik fore we used to make two trips to town a day, now we have just enough gas to go to town three times a week to get the mail and buy supplies. I heard in the distance the roar of the engines of PT boats. Looking up, I could see their wakes although they must have been six or seven miles away. I was interested but not surprised. They and the blimps which daily patrol the 1 caches have become common sights. I stopiK d every now and then to pick up a pretty shell, or to examine a piece of drift-wood or the skeleton of a fish. I was looking through one heap of seaweed when to my amazement I found a small, gray, watersoaked book. My first idea was that it was just an ordinary lxK k which someone had left on the beach. I started to walk on. but something alK ut the book made me want to examine it. The lx ok did not look like the kind of reading one would take to the beach with him. I picked it up. It had the name of a ship written inside the cover, and appeared to be a log or a book containing official instructions. The cover was warped, the i ages lient and the ink smeared. Trembling with excitement I read the first page. What I read both frightened and fascinated me. I read on, then suddenly I wondered if what I was reading ought to Ik known by me. I ran back toward the house anxious to find someone with whom I could share my discovery. On the way I met Mr. Nickerson, the lobster man. I considered asking him what he thought the lxx k was, but he didn’t give me time. After a brief greeting, he hurried on. I should have showed my discovery to my family, but no one was there when I reached home. I reread the first two pages of the book. This time I was almost certain that what the book contained ought not to Ik known by anyone but authorities. The thing to do was to take it to the Coast Guard Station. While walking there. I began to wonder if I wasn’t letting my imagination run away with V me. Perhaps I would just bother the Coast Guard by bringing in a wet. unimportant book. I almost turned back, but I decided they ought to see the book in case it contained information valuable to them. 1 was taken in to see the officer in charge of the station. After telling him where and when I found the book, I gave it to him to read. All was silent while the man looked at the book. “Was the book of any use to him? Did it really contain some important information or was it just that my romantic nature wanted it to?” As the officer read, the color slowly left his face. Me frowned, looking more and more troubled. I glanced uneasily al out the room wishing that he would say something. I felt as if I had been standing there for hours. Finally after about ten minutes, he turned to me, and said gruffly, “Has anyone hut you seen this book?” I was glad that 1 could answer in the negative. “How many pages have you read?” “Only the first two or three. Please forget what you have read and s| eak of this to no one.” Then lie smiled and his voice l ecame more gentle as he said, “Thank you for bringing this hook here. You don’t know how many lives you may have saved.” I walked slowly out of the building, my emotions a mixture of thankfulness and liewilder- ment. Jean Mersey, XII Second Price SHAUGODAYA In the marshes of the Southland, In the rank and sluggish marshes Lived the evil Shaugodaya, Lived the coward, always evil. Xever to him came a person Seeking aid or words of wisdom. All alone lived Shaugodaya, Lonely lived he in the marshes. Youth from him had gone forever, Age had come to chill his heart blood, And his heart was cold and blackened, Blackened with the cruel actions That he had i erformed while younger. In the daytime he was boastful. Always in the daytime bragging. But tiie night was what he feared most, Feared the shadows of the night time, Closer crept he to the firelight, Crept he farther from the shadows. Not a sound came from the marshes, Silence reigned o'er all the swampland. By his fire sat Shaugodaya, Quaking ever by the fireside, belt the closeness of the silence, And was smothered by that feeling. Crowding to him came the shadows, Shadows of his evil doings. First the shadows of young manhood, First they came to mock and haunt him. With his tril e he then was happy, With the Iroquois was happy. And but for that fatal hapj ening For that fatal act of anger. He would still Ik dwelling with them, With the Iroquois still dwelling. Monateesee was his rival. Skilled in arts of war and hunting. Many games and trying battles, He had lost to Monateesee. At these times a pang had struck him, Struck him in the heart with envy. One day in the woods while hunting, Shaugodaya saw his rival, Saw his rival Monateesee. Again the jealous pang assailed him. Shaugodaya took his arrow In a fit of anger took it. Placed it in his bow and aimed it, Aimed it straight at Monateesee. Swift it flew with death its message, Flying swiftly, took its message. Monateesee fell in anguish, Rent the air with cries of suffering. Silence fell with ghostly stillness, Not a sound then broke that silence. Many moons since then had wasted. Many moons of burning conscience, Till at last past all enduring. Shaugodaya left his tril esmen. Left the Iroquois, his people; Driven deep within the marshes Driven by his guilty conscience. Seeking | eace from past remembrance, Seeking balm to ease his fever. Thus it nws that Shaugodaya Came to dwell among the marshes; Came to live within the swampland. Many nights sat Shaugodaya, Sat there musing by the fireside. But his heart cried loud within him, I� udly cried his heart within him For the crime he had committed. Then to him there came a vision, Monateesee came in vision. Shaugodaya lagged forgiveness. Begged forgiveness for his actions. Straightway then spoke Monateesee, Gave the sinner his forgiveness. “Also, Shaugodaya, said he, “You must leave a gift to mankind. Else you may not ever enter Happy Hunting Ground—Ponemah.” “I will leave a gift to mankind, SAY IT WAS A DREAM Say it was a dream. The ! eauty that was ours. Don't let the choking dust of earth Settle on those shining hours. Brittle is the memory Of beauty that was real. Don't leave it to l e splintered. Or for some dry Iiojk to steal. Seal it in your heart forever, Say it tas a dream. Jane Thomas, X Honorable Mention. WHEN DADDY SLEEPS My daddy makes a funny face When he is fast asleep. Although his eyes are closed up tight. His voice is queer and deep. His mouth is ojien wide and round. A bubbling noise he makes, I do not like his sleeping sound— He nicer when lie wakes. Elizabeth Bennett, VI Honorable Mention One to sooth and make them happy, One to give them shade and comfort, I will leave to them the tamrac. That will lie my gift to mankind. This said Shaugodaya to him, Said he this to Monateesee. In the dark sat Shaugodaya. Sat there by the dying embers. Now he feared no fleeting shadows. Now he sat there calm and smiling. For he had received forgiveness. And had soothed his burning conscience. Soon his spirit rose within him. Rose and left his mortal body. Guided by the glowing embers, By the glowing embers guided, Journied far to the hereafter. Happy Hunting Ground, Ponemah. In liis place there stood the tamrac. Stood there sighing, sUmk! there moaning Left to sooth the rest of mankind, Soothing gift of Shaugodaya. Peggy Des Roc hers, VIII Junior Price TO CHINA What once were homes, are now but ruins; Where gardens grew, the earth lies bare. Where children played lieneath the sunshine, A soldier's groan now rends the air. A child lies huddled by a blood-stained body. An orphan now—to starve and flee. She raises her tear-stained face to heaven In a prayer—a plea. An aged patriot is dying; His eyes are dimmed but not with tears. Yet not too dim to hide the hope there. The hope of a country’s l� etter years. A ragged, war-torn, barefoot army— Not f xxl or rest has any known. Yet on they press through death and terror They march by strength of soul alone. What once were homes, are now but ruins; Where gardens grew, the earth is bare. Yet old and young are not defeated, Their spirit lives forever there. Ann Wcrtele, XI Honorable Mention TO A FIGHTER You wouldn't lielieve it way out in the Pacific where you .ire that I, your skinny sis, could possibly Ik writing a tribute to you. You would probably, in a mutter, call it silly, but for once you are wrong. You, Bill, and your comrades deserve more credit than any of you may ever get. Before December, 1941. you were carefree, eighteen, and in love. What could Ik more |K rfect? Above all. you had set a doctor’s degree for a goal. The family, especially Dad, was thrilled at the thought of having another doctor in the McNevin clan. Then came that fateful Sunday. You were deep in concentration over an eye diagram when you heard the news. Never in my life will I forget the grim, hard look that replaced your studious expression. It impressed each of us very deeply. Through all these years your family had taken you, your radio contraptions, and that terrifying electric chair for granted, never dreaming it all could suddenly vanish. From that day you were a different person. Not until a week later when you returned home in a uniform did I understand why. Dad seemed as pleased as he could, and Mother hastily brushed away tears, but I just gaped. My own brother a sailor, fighting Japs; it was unbelievable ! Before I knew it. the room filled with your model planes, Iniats. and test tubes was vacant. No one could think of going in and changing anything from the way it had been left. Barb’s picture is on your dresser just as always. To me it seems her face has acquired a more serious look in your absence. Your radio and records have long been silenced only to collect dust which you alone can make disapjK ar permanently. Where are you? What are you doing? We can’t hope to know, but wherever you are, our prayers follow you. To many this war means only less sugar and meat for awhile, but to those who have flesh and blond in the actual struggle, it means unforgettable anxiety and sorrow. Yet you—all of you—are fighting as unconcerned as possible for something truly fine that only a hard won victory can bring. You are so unselfish alxmt it. thinking only of those at home, never of yourselves. That is the reason I am writing this, for without brothers and sweethearts like you, our country and homes could never Ik the same. Who else but you would unselfishly without a thought for your future don a uniform to stop the slaughter and help bring jK ace? For these reasons it seems to me that we Americans owe you, Bill, and your buddies our deejiest. most heartfelt thanks. Jean Campbell, XI Honorable Mention MY AMERICA America—A beautiful word. The rolling country. The blue sky. The blossoming flowers. The dew on the grass at dawn. The sun, setting in the west. All this is America. Even more. The happy children. Their joyful voices. We’re fighting for even more than this. For the right to sj eak as we please, live as we please, worship as we please, teach what we please. Freedom is living in America. It is in the hearts of men and women. It is in the hearts of happy children at Christmas. It is in the hearts of men and women working in war plants. Christmas in America is not the only light. There is light shining in the hearts of men and women everywhere. It shines in the hearts of the poor, the rich, the good. It shines in the heart of a pilot who just landed his plane safely on land. It shines in the heart of a bombardier. It also shines in the heart of a parachuter. Love is a light. Every dew drop on a fresh spring flower, every blossom, every tree, every sprig of grass. Love is everywhere. America holds all this, and even more. It has a just government and just laws. America is America! America! My America! Harriet Dayton, V Honorable Mention I AM INSPIRED Dear Kim, your slightly greying hair does not alter the fact that you will remain eternally young. Vour congeniality and charm will he your elixir of life; your Interest and enthusiasm are waters from I’once de Leon’s Fountain of Youth. I remember the first evening I heard you read poetry. Your manner was casual, your voice sincere: and I wondered how I ever could have enjoyed unnatural, false, highly dramatized readings. You introduced me that evening to Don Blanding and his Vagabond House —to the magic of his “blues” and “yellows” and his “fiery reds”. And you read Masefield’s “I must go down to the sea again with understanding and feeling that comes from intimate acquaintance with a work. I learned to love poetry during those evenings when wc would sit around the fire, eat popcorn, and become enchanted—lifted out of this world into the realm of the poets and artists. I have looked to you for inspiration, Kim; you always greet the world with a smile and glad eyes. You gave me confidence; you initiated me to the beauty and freedom of the uncorrupted world of nature. I sensed the glorious uplift of a night spent under the stars. Strong winds carry memories of rustling pines on a hill-top overlooking a clear blue lake, gaily dis-turl ed by rollicking white caps. And moonlight brings back reminiscences of canoes gliding noiselessly except for the rhythmic sound of the paddle blade as it draws water with a firm, clear-cut stroke. Kim, you are my ideal—quiet, unassuming, yet demanding respect. You keep alive all the love and beauty which seem lacking in this world of ours today. Jean Beaverson, XII Honorable Mention TO A DEAD TREE What things it has seen, what things it has done Watching stars, and moon, and sun. Every day and every year, Watching without fear Of its present state. Once it was lovely, fair, and green. Proud and happy to he seen Standing up above its brothers, Taller, straighter than all others In its present state. Now it's standing black and broken, Even yet a withered token Of a grandeur passed away, Of a beauty lost today In its present state. Judy Barker, VIII Honorable Mention FOUR TREES Once there were four trees in a row— F.enie. Mcenic, Millie, and Moe. Three were good little trees you know-— Eenie, Meenie, and Minie, But Moe! He was a bad little tree And would never agree with other three. Now Eenie, Meenie, Minie, and Moe Went out one day to play in the snow. Their mother told them not to throw Any snowballs to and fro. Eenie, Meenie, and Minie obeyed. But Moe! He didn’t, and he paid. His mother spanked him with her limbs. Now Moe is good And obeys as he should. They stand there still for all 1 know— Eenie, Meenie, Minie, and Moe. Susan Des Kocuers, IV ARTHUR'S MARRIAGE Preface—In King Arthurs time, the people took it as a matter of fact that kings' sons should marry kings' daughters and kings' daughters should marry kings’ sons. Frequently it would happen that a king's daughter would marry a knight's son, but it was unheard of for the king's people to marry anyone Urwer than a knight. One day, King Arthur was riding along the countryside seeking adventure when he passed by a hut. lie would have gone ahead, hut he had heard a sound of sobbing coming from within. Arthur was very kindhearted and did not like to hear of anyone in distress. He dismounted from his horse and knocked on the door of the hut. A moment elapsed, then a young woman answered the door. Her eyes were red from crying, but Arthur noticed that she was very beautiful. Her clothes were simple and shabby but clean. When she saw that it Was the king, she fell on her knees. Then he asked her name and why she was crying. She said her name was Victoria and that she didn’t know whether she would have anything to cat at the next meal as she was very poor. Arthur cheered and visited with her a while and he left some money for food when he left. When he got back to the castle he told his father. Uthcr, of the strange adventure he had had. (Uther had become too old to reign.) Arthur went again to see Victoria the next day. and for many days after that. And he began to grow very fond of her. One day he brought her to see the inside of the palace. The knights and guards looked in wonder at this, for after all, a peasant in the courts was very strange indeed! Meanwhile, Guinevere, Leodegrance’s daughter, had heard of Arthur’s liking of Victoria and secretly was very angry. For since Leodcgrance was Arthur’s bravest knight. Guinevere expected Arthur to ask her hand in marriage. Other also wanted his son to marry Guinevere for Lcodegrance would ljecome Arthur’s father-in-law and Uther said that when he died no one could make as noble and true a father to Arthur as Lcodegrance. Hut Arthur did not really love Guinevere because she was very greedy and thought only of money, hut he told no one of this except Merlin. As time went on, Victoria and Arthur grew fonder and fonder of each other. So one day Arthur asked her to be his wife, for he loved her more than any one else on earth. When they were married, Victoria came to take her place as queen. And they were very happy. When Guinevere heard of Arthur’s marriage, her temper rose within her and she vowed that if she never did anything else in her life she would take revenge on Arthur for not marrying her. How she took revenge is another story. Joan McBride, VII HOW BOYS EAT Once upon a time there were two boys. How they ate was simply awful. They ate one hundred pan-cakes a day. Their names were Chubby Cheeks and Freckles Face. Their maid’s name was Red-hair. One morning the maid said she would not bake any more pan-cakes that day. That made the boys laugh and laugh. Hakiiara Osborne, III THE HOUSE ON WHEELS Once there was a man. He lived in a house on wheels. He lived on a farm. The farm was old and dirty. He was going to take the animals to a new farm. They went in his house on wheels. He took his lunch with him localise it was a long way. When it was lunch time he stopjxxl the horses. He hung his hat on a tree and they all had some lunch. Shevlin Gage, II BUSSES Why is it that busses unnerve me so? I get on them looking like a refugee from The Crapes of Wrath and by the time I get off have reached the stage where a week at Glen Lake wouldn’t harm me any. Here is an account of a typical morning on the 1ms: While mounting may not lie too great a feat for some of my agile-limbed contemporaries, I. with a bookbag in one hand and a half-open notebook in the other, invariably stumble and land in the position of a fawning spaniel at the driver’s feet. Raucous laughter floats up the aisle and I feel as if a thousand spotlights must he focused upon me. However, the token must now In presented to view. Having the tvjie of mind which has often caused me to do such ahsentminded things as turning out the lights on a room crowded full of people, leaving the occu| ants in darkness. I have not wisely taken out the token earlier and must now go through a Man Mountain Dean exhibition to procure it. 'This done, I gaze through frosted glasses for a seat. 1 start down the aisle and ex| erience the feeling a climlier must have on the last lap up Mount McKinley. Suddenly momentum reverses, gravity departs, and I retreat all too hastily down the aisle. With fiendish leer the driver notes my figure reposing in the aisle like Cleopatra on her barge and he turns hack to his driving. I regain with some difficulty my lialance, Ixnikliag, and my grip on a nearby plywood handle, and start an animated if somewhat one-sided conversation with a neighboring acquaintance. The onesidedness is due entirely, I must admit, to a grajienut hxlged in my twelve-year molar. However dull my friend's repartee may be, it will probably cause me to pass my stop and even if it doesn’t I will dismount, minus my lx okl ag. Su|ierman versus the locomotive has nothing on that Loop bus and me, but 1 finally reach my goal and turn wearily towards another eventful day. Jean Geggie, VJII Honorable Mention PRAIRIE Strange land—this great, broad Sweep of country called the prairie . . . Rough with sand and sage— And seamed with cut rock. Along its dusty paths the pioneers. In weaving lines of White-winged prairie schooners, Have trod and fixed their eyes On distant futures. (ireat men were they, with souls of steel And hearts of fire. Their trail a scarlet one Across the grasses . . . These green and golden grasses! This long expanse of endless grasses! Shrouding many secrets. What strange tales arc hidden In its whispered murmurs! Strange land—this great, broad Sweep of country called the prairie . . . Green in spring, and sere And wind-swept in the autumn. Along its dusty paths the pioneers, With hopeful heads held high In strength and courage, I lave trod and fixed their eyes On distant futures. Suzanne Sessions. VIII Honorable Mention CINQUAINE Our love was lilting. Gay, A soaring curve of golden joy That broke— Of its own weight. Lucille Camp, X • . • ♦ - • • I