Northrop Collegiate School - Tatler Yearbook (Minneapolis, MN)

Page 12 text:

BARBARA LEE CLIFFORD IN MEMORIAM Those who knew Barbie, even as an acquaintance, were struck by her gracious courteousness, her witty observations, and her com- posed manner, but these characteristics, so hard to define, never wore thin. Barbie was uncomplicated and forthright, and the char- acter she offered the world was the same one, with fewer reserva- tions, that she offered to her family and friends. 8

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During the years that the members of our class, the Class of 1965, have been at Northrop, we have aged in years and maturity. We have been grateful to all our high school teachers, who have helped us to prepare for a world which will demand of us wisdom and judgment. Our teachers taught us about life as well as about history and mathematics. But we are mature enough now to realize that we could never have learned the lessons the Upper School had to offer had not our Lower School teachers laid the basic foundation. Their job is a diflicult one. They must develop the students' sensitivity while preparing them for the more difficult tasks ahead. They must find a girl's interests and talents and encourage them. They must remember that the grade- school students have just as many problems and and heartaches as do adults, though they are of a different nature. To be a good grade-school teacher, a person must be both kind and firm. This combination of qualities is found in all of Northrop's Lower School teachers, those of us who entered Northrop in the Lower School now realize how lucky we were. The teacher with perhaps the most diilicult task is the- sixth grade teacher. She must pre- pare her students for the transition from Lower to Upper School. She must make sure that they will be ready for new and greater responsibili- ties. One of Northrop's sixth grade teachers has prepared more than two decades of students for this transition and has prepared them well. Those of our class who attended Northrop in the sixth grade think of her with love and grat- itude, and we will never forget her parting words: I'll miss you all next year, and when I pass you in the halls, give me a cheery smile to let me know you remember me. As a tribute to her many years of service to Northrop and its students, we, the Class of 1965, dedicate the 1965 Taller to jean Gregory Chamberlain.

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We are reprinting this story from the 1963 Tatler because it ex- presses Barbie's wonderful whimsy and warm-heartedness. MADEMOISELLE FROM ARMENTIERES Mademoiselle from Armentieres, commonly called Mamsie, was a stately lady, fourteen inches high. When moving along at an unbe- lievably slow pace, Mamsie's stomach would scrape along the sidewalk. This caused many people to wonder how she ever transported her seventy-five pounds from garbage can to gar- bage can. Mamsie was a portly basset-hound with sporty brown and white paws and a black coat. Along with the Peavey Fountain and the Water-tower she became a landmark of Ken- wood neighborhood. Because Mamsie be- friended every school child in the vicinity, she accumulated a large following. Mamsie became a member of our family twelve years ago on a stormy March evening. She was so frightened by the thunder and lightning that she slid and scampered all over the kitchen floor. We had no idea during her puppyhood that she would turn out to be the large, economy-size type of basset-hound. Mamsie from the beginning was patient and pleasant- tempered. Her good nature was often tested by a constant dull thud on her tail produced by my three-year-old sister's hammer. Mademoi- selle would sit there patiently with her tail spread out until she figured that Susie had had her thrill for the day. This accomplished, the two merry characters would gaily trot off. As a connoisseur of the finest horsemeat and the choicest garbage du jour, Mamsie often strewed a path of cans from one end of the alley to the other, enabling a pack of enraged housewives to track her down. In addition to this habit, Mamsie had the knack of running into the house with the dogcatcher right be- hind her. Mamsie, however, was always just in time, and the door would be bolted just before the dogcatcher got to the threshhold. Every spring the bundle of joyi' would bring in the remnants of dead fish and would have to be thoroughly rubbed, scrubbed, Udefiea-ed, and de-odorized. At the age of two, Mademoiselle became Car- nation Milk's best friend. In a period of two years and two litters, she was the proud mother of twenty-one puppies. Although now a mother, Mamsie managed to romp around with all of her twenty-one, sad-eyed and droopy-eared lovable pups. When Mamsie grew older, she was just as energetic, she still enjoyed gnawing on the mailman's tempting leg. But now her ears and stomach will no more rub softly along our carpets, and she will no longer rub past the furniture leaving a dark line of dirt on the upholstery. Since her hit-and-run death last March, the wee hours of the morning are no longer punctuated by her whining and snoring. By Barbara Clifford Grade 12