Oxford School - Oxfordian Yearbook (Hartford, CT)

 - Class of 1939

Page 1 of 102

 

Oxford School - Oxfordian Yearbook (Hartford, CT) online collection, 1939 Edition, Cover
Cover



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Text from Pages 1 - 102 of the 1939 volume:

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'-l':u, 'M' 1 1. . 1 . ..i, .- .1..-' 1. x . 3 i .A ,.,X, .- ---1 --L 114-'f J' li' 5, ,TV-, . '-X-,' .1 , A.f' , .- 1 I . gg x '. . f ,f ,, 5 - .Al Y L1 .. 4 ' 5- ' Lug: ,' . - A 1 I : -,-,J ' , if Q . 1 1' K ' . f In Q-'Miz-A. fu- f.1A.A4.3g.-F,.- ' 'J ' .z -.i.:I'-I '-9:- X ., . 1 . .,.3,,..,F, . -fm -., . -1 .-...:,-y---5- ,. -. NJ. :L- -Q - : W.-.1.'. .H .. ,- x- rf . , ,VNN 4. 1 ,A , -V.V .-s ' f.. OXFORD CHAT 1909 -1934 in OXFORD SCHOOL HARTFORD, CONNECTICUT FOR HER INSPIRING EXAMPLE AND WARM UNDERSTANDING, THIS BOOK IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED TO iss 7 hitlq 256 H115 MISS EDITH N. EVANS OXFORD CHAT une 1934 OXFORD SCHOOL HARTFORD, CONNECTICUT QD x, 44, V 5: , tif i 1' E-JR 1 il Lilerary Adviser-Miss Edith Evans Art Adviser-Miss Frances Whitmore Editor-in-Chief-Mary Thacher Worthen LITERARY BOARD Editor-Sally Rice Effie Gillmerlson Sally Ballard Doris Frank Edith Conklin Katherine Gadd ,lane O'Connor Ann W'ypcr BUSINESS BOARD Business Manager4D0tha Seaverns Polly Frisbie Ellen Hooper Lf-onicre Merrels Adalyn Purdy Barbara Johnston Elsie Dresser ART BOARD Art Manager-Betty Bean Nancy Poeller Esther Sillecli Barbara Bridgeman Jane Huntington Qlll SE, VINCIT CXF ORD SCHOAOL FACULTY RUTH E. GUERNSEY, A.B., A.M. Headmistress LYDIA R. GUERNSEY Assistant Principal GRACE HANNA Director of the Junior School DOROTHY WULP A Assistant of the Kindergarten MARGARET A. BOARDMAN Assistant of the Kindergarten CONSTANCE C. GLEASON Carpentry VIRGINIA WILLARD Grade I MARGARET DAVIS Grade II NEVILLE KRANS Grade III LYDIA R. GUERNSEY Grade IV VERNA M. CARLISLE Grade V and Science ESTHER L. HAMLIN Grade VI H. ELIZABETH VAN DYCK, A.B. Grade VII, H. S. Science and Chemistry ELIZABETH HOWE Grade VII ELIZABETH MARTIN Medieval and Modern History and Algebra HAZEL B. SHEPARD, A.B. Social Studies and English Grade VIII, American History, H. S. LILLIAN M. CARROLL Tutor and Banking MARGARET T. BULSON, A.B., A.M Head of Latiin Department SARAH K. EVERTS, A.B., A.M. Head of Mathematics Department EDITH N. EVANS, B.S. Head of English Department JOSEPHINE BRITTON, A.B. English MARY W. IRELAND, A.B. Tutor ELEANOR NEWELL, Ph.B. Head of French Department ANNA COHEN DET French MARIA GILLARD French HAZEL PAUL Spanish and German MARY GAY Head of Art Department FRANCES WHITMORE Assistant in Art ANNE Y. COPELAND Study Halls FACULTY ELSA PORTEUS Sewing DORIS CAMPBELL I-IOLSWORTH, A.B. Dramatics ELLEN CROWE Dramatics MAUDE ITURST BLANCHARD Director of Music OLIVE HUNT Music, Kindergarten, Grades I and II CONSTANCE WEAVER, B.S. Music Grades III-VIII LESLIE B. KYLE Chorus ELEANOR F. LASELL Director of Physical Education CONSTANCE WAHLERS Physical Education CAROLYN C. MULI-IOLLAND Librarian HELEN STANWOOD, B.S.S. Executive Secretary ANNE M. COUTTS Assistant Secretary HELEN R. BEALS Dietitian MARGARET GREEN School Nurse DEPARTMENT OF MUSIC MAUDE HURST BLANCHARD Director of Music EMILY B. LEARNED Secretary of Music Department HELEN TIFFANY Head of Piano Department MADELINE BUELL Pianoforte DORIS GIBSON Pianoforte OLIVE HUNT Pianoforte FRANCES STANLEY Pianoforte CARLOTTA ALLEN WESTPI-IAL Pianoforte PEARL HILL Pianoforte ROBERT DOELLNER Violin RUTH RAY Violin CHARLES KRANE Violoncello MARION ROBERTS Violoncello LESLIE KYLE Voice CONSTANCE WEAVER Keyboard Harmony and Theory EDITORIALS Oh, have you heard? Jean has a sprained ankle and canit come to school for a week. She did it running downstairs yesterday when Ann was chasing her, and of course those awful three-inch heels caught in the hem of her dress. One might have thought that she was going to a tea-dance-she was so dressed up. But she was only going to a board meeting! Can you imaginefw And at the same time, to the cheerful tune of the famous Bracelet Band , a few studious students were pondering over Whitman's Thought , trying hopelessly to read in time with the very odd rhythm which the HB. B. insisted upon keeping. And then when rumors were verified as to the loss of Sally's ivory brooch fthe one, you will remember, with the beautiful silhouette of the great aunt of her second cousinl, the school was in a panic. Classes were dismissed at noon so that the building would be clear for the frantic search which was to ensue. But the brooch was never found, and Sally still weeps, even though the aunt was hut a very distant relation. Dk gk sk But Jean hasn't sprained her ankle and the Bracelet Band has not yet been incorporated. Neither has Sally lost her precious brooch. Why? Because Oxford still has her dress rules. After all, aren't you satisfied? This year the Chat has been soliciting advertisements from almost all the clubs in the school. To raise money for another one, they gave a Chat-Tea fpronounced Chatty J on April second. All the high school, the faculty, and the eighth grade were invited, and it took place in the assembly from four until five olclock. The members of the Chat Boards supplied the food, and we wish to thank them, because it certainly was good. We are afraid that at the end of the afternoon all the hostesses were exceedingly tired, but a good time was had by all, and we hope that Q The weather was certainly with the struggling school-girl this winter. just as we were feeling that it was getting us down, and that we couldn't go on any longer, a small cloud appeared on the horizon. lt grew and grew until it covered the entire sky, and then the snow began to fall. The snow was no little group of school-flakes out for a good time, it was a group of adult-flakes bound to make the most of the sh-ort time allotted to them. All night they cavorted and gambled in the wind, and in the morning they were still at it. Most of the ardent scholars of Oxford upon arising looked out of their windows and thankfully went back to bed. But some hardy spirits rose, dressed, and plowed for dugj their way out into the storm. We wouldnit say that it was a large showing at school that morning, but it was a brave one, and shows of what stuff some Oxfordites are made. The the Chat-Tea will become a custom. rest of the week was vacation, but no sooner had we arrived in school the next Monday, than our friend Snow came back again. So, after a noble and much-looked-forward-to announcement over the radio that night, Oxford was in- formed that school was closed for one more day. Ah, but the snow is now all over, and if the weather is going to give us any more holidays, it will have to be a flood-or burst of the watermainl 10 SQNI OR S WF? I4 lx i --. P, I4 1934 jf lag U 1 Q Q 5,3 . 'v .4 ,Dax I 4 Wie? , ,f K I 794' f vu! gg 0 ' . 5 lf., 5 -1 to W 1 ,. f me X :: F ,,-:S . Q I V A I L 11.77 1 V X ip 5 - fb js, ' V fly I , x A A X I J! The quotations from Milne on the following pages under the senior pictures are used by special permission of the copyright owners, E. P. Dutton Ez Company, New York. and are taken frum these books: Winnie-lhe-Pooh, Hnuse at Pooh Corner, Now We Ara: Six, When We Were Very Youmr. '9'-x5 'i'Yt 9'40 ' .IANETTE GOODWIN AUSTIN nlvetsa You can't help respecting anybody who can spell Tuesday, even if he can't spell it right -The House at Pooh Corner. 1930-31-Gray Baseball Team. 1931-32-Gray Baseball Team. 1932-33-Gray Baseball Team. 1933-34-Christmas Play, Gray Soccer Team. A pleasant laugh pierced the gloom. We looked down, around, and up-and there was Nettie, ready to cheer us on. Oxford will miss her gay laugh and waysg there are no others quite like them. ELIZABETH HUNTINGTON BALLARD c6Bet79 I can think whatever I like to think. I can play whatever I like to play. I can laugh whatever I like to laugh. -Now We Are Six. 1930-31- 1931-32- 1932-33- 1933-34-Christmas Play, Salon Francais, 'Varsity Soccer Team. It's dreadful to think of-but if there were a fire, we wonder which Bet would save-her teddy bears or her opera records. By the time she'd decided, they would all be burned and there would be no more witty discussions at lunch. So here's hoping that Bet will never be caught in a fire, with such a decision to have to make! 13 BETTY RANDOLPH BEAN i'BeltyH Gaity. Som:-and-dance. Here we go round the mul- berry bush. -Winnie-the-Pooh. 1930-31-Christmas Play, Ensemble, Senior Orchestra. 1931-32-Christmas Play, Ensemble, Senior Orchestra. 1932-33-Absent. 1933-34-Christmas Play, Senior Orchestra, Chairman of CHAT Art Board, Paint and Putty, Spring Play, Chairman of Scenery Committee for Spring Play. If you have ever searched for Betty to ask her to buy some flowers, or to make a poster for a play, or to play her violin at Music Club, you have probably found her stewing in front of the dressing-room mirror. Shall I cut it or shall I let it grow? So-and-so will be so mad if I cut it after all these weeks, but honestly, I can't stand this mop any longer. El.lZAl3ETH ANN UOUCHILH B0uch', What will he be doing nr-xtT -Winnii--the-Pooh. 1931-32-Christmas Play. 1932-33-Christmas Play, Ensemble. 1933--34-Christmas Play, Paint and Putty, Orange Cheerleader, Spring Play, Scenery Committee for Spring Play. You wou1dn't think such a little person could take a man's part in Oxford dramaticsg but what a dashing' hero she makes! And she won't have to use any man's make-up if she falls asleep under the sun-lamp again. And, in case you hear a sound ol' cheering' from the senior room before twenty minutes to nine in the morning, you know that Boucher has come on time-for once. 14 MABEL AUSTIN CHENEY Mabel'i 'You're a real friend,' said he. 'Not like some,' he said. -Winnie-the-Pooh. 1930-31-Christmas Play. 1931-32- 1932-33-Christmas Play, 'Varsity Hockey Team, Salon Frangais, Student Leader, Student Council. Will the meeting please come to order? asks Mabel, and Room 14 busily applies itself to settling the many questions that arise. Sometimes the discussions get a bit warm, but our patient and well-poised president has kept them well under control. But perhaps, when meetings do become warm , that is why Mabel uses, later, the couch on the third floor so much - with one other Senior. Of course we're not drawing any conclusions. BARBARA ELLEN COSTELLO Bobbie,' As lung as nobody minds, I suppose it's all right. Winnie-the-Pooh. 1930-31-Christmas Play, Paint and Putty, Spring Play, Ensemble. 1931-32-Christmas Play, 'Varsity Baseball Team, Paint and Putty, Ensemble. 1932-33-Christmas Play, 'Varsity Baseball Team, Paint and Putty, Ensemble. 1933-34-Secretary of Paint and Putty, Senior Orange Captain, Vice-President of Book Club, Christmas Play, Spring Play, 'Varsity Hockey Team, Ensemble. Bobbie proves again that all beautiful girls are not dumb. One example of her efficiency is the way she ran the Westminster-Oxford party. If you think it was easy to try to answer some of the questions asked, or to comply with some of the requests, try it your- self some time. 15 MARGARET WILLIAMS DEWING Miggie l've just remembered something' which I forgot to do yesterday, and shan't be able to do tomorrow. -Winnie-the-Pooh. 1930-31--Paint and Putty, Spring Play. 1931-32-Christmas Play, Orange Soccer and Hockey Teams, Paint and Putty. 1932-33-Christmas Play, Orange Soccer and Hockey Teams, Business Manager of Paint and Putty. 1933-34--'Varsity Soccer and Hockey Teams, Business Manager of Paint and Putty, Christmas Play, Spring' Play, Salon Fran- QBIS. Miggic always was a good business mana- ger, but since she has taken Elements of Business she's become nearly perfect. Every- thing from tickets and programs to gymna- sium stunts must be worked out mathemati- cally. In fact, one stunt was so perfectly timed that she could do it to music. JEAN DOHERTY Jenn Looked modestly down his nose and tried to pretend he wasnt -Winnie-the-Pooh. 1931-32- 1932-33- I933-34--Treasurer of Music Club, 'Varsity Hockey and Soccer Teams, Luncheon Com- mittee, President of Senior Book Club. Jean and her comb are as inseparable as Sherlock Holmes and his pipe. CWe hope you won't mind the contrasts-or is it a compari- son?J She may seem quiet to some, but we know otherwise. For she hears-and tells- marvelous jokes. Just ask her to tell you one some time, but don't ask her to explain lt, for goodness' sake. 16 MARY EDDY Muir He would know the Right Thing to do. -Winnie-the-Pooh. 1930-31-Senior Orchestra. 1931-32-'Varsity Hockey Team, Senior Or- chestra, Music Club, Program Committee. 1932-33-President of Junior Book Club, Sec- retary of Music Club, Class Captain, 'Varsity Hockey, Soccer and Baseball Teams, CHAT Business Board, Senior Orchestra, Luncheon Committee. 1933-34-Salon Francais, President of O. S. A., Student Council, 'Varsity Soccer Team, Christmas Pageant, Student Leader, En- semble, Senior Orchestra, Orange Hockey Team. Since Mary is the head of the Student Coun- cil she's looked up to by many people for her spirit and good sportsmanship. But as to her music-just sing a song and she'll play it for you. The members of the Music Club certain- ly like to go to her house for a meeting! Remember the Music Club picnic? Oh, mar- velous! GERALDINE MARIE FOLEY 4'Cerry'l Brains first and then Hard Work. -The House at Pooh Corner. 1930-31-Christmas Play, Paint and Putty, Spring Play. 1931-32-Christmas Play, Paint and Putty. 1932-33-Christmas Play, Spring Play, Treas- urer of Paint and Putty. 1933-34-Christmas Play, Paint and Putty, Spring Play. If people think that Gerry is too dignified, they should really think twice, for she is full of fun, once she gets started. She is most outstanding in dramatics. Do you remember her in the Christmas Play? What a big, bad villain she proved to be! And then we want you to know that Gerry was costume mistress for the Spring Play at the Avery. Congratu- lations, Gerry, the costumes were marvelous! 17 DORIS DROSTE FRANK 6cDee99 It's awful fun to he born at ull. When We Were Very Young. 1930-31-Christmas Play. 1931-32-Christmas Play, CHATTINGS Report- er, 'Varsity Hockey Team. 1932-33-President of Junior Class, Christmas Play, Literary Board of CHAT, 'Varsity Hockey and Soccer Teams, Salon Francais. 1933-34-Treasurer of Salon Francais, Pro- gram Committee, Chairman for Book Club, 'Varsity Hockey and Soccer Teams, CHAT Literary Board, Christmas Play. Dee is very clever. Not only can she write any kind of poetry on the spur of the moment, but she can inspire others to do the same. For instance, because of the limericks the seniors composed in Book Club, a great many hidden geniuses have been discovered--thanks to Dee as originator of the idea. ELSA MORGAN FRISBIE -'Polly' Careful not to wet his feeL wNow VVe Are Six, 1930-31-Christmas Play, Senior Orchestra, 'Varsity Baseball Team. 1931-32-Christmas Play, Ensemble, Orange Soccer Team, 'Varsity Baseball Team. 1932-33-Secretary-Treasurer of Junior Class, Salon Francais, Vice-President of Music Club, CHAT Business Board, Senior Orches- tra, Orange Baseball Team, 'Varsity Basket- ball and Hockey Teams, Christmas Play. 1933-34--President of O. A. A., Student Coun- cil, Salon Francais, Student Leader, 'Varsity Hockey and Soccer Teams, Secretary of Music Club, Senior Orchestra, CHAT Busi- ness Board, Christmas Play. We wonder if thcre's any street in Hartford that Polly hasn't walked on while she tried to get hours . We also wonder how long one bottle of white polish lasts her-she al- ways has such clean white sneakers. As President of O. A. A. she sets us a most spic- and-span example of how to look on the field. And if she hasn't once asked you if you have finished shooting your baskets or hockey goals--well, you must be extraordinary! 18 EFFIE JEAN CILBERTSON 6lEIfie97 Go away. I'm thinking. -The House of Pooh Corner. 1930-31--Christmas Play, Paint and Putty Spring Play, CHAT' Literary Board, En- semble. 1931-32--Christmas Play, Spring Play, Paint and Putty, CHAT Literary Board, Ensemble, Music Club. 1932-33-Christmas Play, Spring Play, Paint and Putty, Salon Francais, Literary Editor of CHAT, Chairman of Entertainment Com- mittee of Book Club, Ensemble, Music Club. 1933-34-Christmas Play, CHAT Literary Board, Ensemble, President Salon Francais, Stu- dent Council, Paint and Putty, Music Club. Oh, where is Effie '? asks some one fran- tically. In that desk behind all the books, is the answer. Yes, Effie is always busy- last year with CHAT, this year with Salon, etc., next year directing plays, mayhap, or some- thing else that takes a lot of time and uses up Effie's talent. She's always willing to do Zlgthing, especially typing, so we recommend ie. ELINOR GREGORY Elly Drangle He can always think of a Clever Plan. -Winnie-the-Pooh. 1930-31-Christmas Pageant, Ensemble. 1931-32-Christmas Pageant, Ensemble. 1932-33-Christmas Pageant, Ensemble. 1933-34-Salon Francais, Christmas Pageant, Chairman of Entertainment Committee for Music Club, Ensemble. Ell can easily be found anywhere, either by looking for someone a little taller than the average, or by trailing a ball of wool. For everywhere that Drangle goes, her knitting always follows-and ends in a Brooks sweater, or socks for family and friends. She certainly works wonders with needles and wool. Just watch her sometime! 19 9 ANNE MEREDITH HATHEWAY A mae A little consideration, a little thought for others. makes all the difference. -Winnie-the-Pooh. 1932631-Property Committee for Christmas ay. 1931-32-Christmas Play. 1932-33-Christmas Play. 1933-34-Christmas Play, Costume Committee for Christmas Play, Secretary of Senior Book Club, Salon Francais, Music Club. Anne has what one calls a Two-sided character. Although at times she is very quiet, she can also Raise Cain . A little- Oh, but her quotation takes the words right out of our mouths. Don't you agree with us? BARBARA NICHOLS JOHNSTON 6:36653 He had his little ways. --Now Vile Are Six. 1930-31-President of Freshman Class, Student Council, Christmas Play, Gray Hockey Team, 'Varsity Soccer Team. 1931-32-Christmas Play, Gray Soccer Team, 'Varsity Hockey Team. 1932-33-Christmas Play, Secretary of Book Club, Gray Class Captain, Gray Basketball Team, 'Varsity Hockey Team. 1933-34-Vice-President of O. S. A., Student Council, Salon Francais, Gray Class Cap- tain, Entertainment Committee of Book Club, Christmas Play, CHAT Business Board, Student Leader, 'Varsity Soccer and Hockey Teams. Bee walks almost as much as Pee, and when she isn't walking, she's reading. But we don't blame her: reading and walking com- prise an interesting day. We know, however, that Bee has other things to do, but we'll not mention them here. Just ask Bee-in a spare moment, if she has one. 20 LEONICE KATHAHINE MERRELS 6SLee9: The Social Round. Always something going cn. --Winnie-the-Pooh. 1930-31-Christmas Pageant. 1931-32-Christmas Pageant, Gray Soccer Team. 1932-33-Christmas Pageant, Paint and Putty, Spring Play, Salon Francais, Chairman of Tea Committee for Book Club, Gray Basketball and 'Varsity Hockey Teams. 1933-34--Christmas Pageant, Chairman of Costume Committee for Christmas Pageant, Salon Francais, Chairman of Tea Commit- tee for Book Club, 'Varsity Hockey and Soccer Teams, Secretary-Treasurer of O. A. A., CHAT Business Board, Wardrobe Mistress of Paint and Putty. Lee's voice carries very well, perhaps that is why we hear it so much. But we don't mind, for it brightens up the atmosphere to hear all about what she did over the week-end. And do excuse us, Lee, but did you ever finish the socks that Pol was knitting for you? MARY SAGE MITCHELL Gipollyw From time to time he opened his eyes to say 'Ah', amd then closed them again to say 'Ti-ue'. -The House at Pooh Corner. 1930-31-Christmas Pageant. 1931-32-Christmas Pageant. 1932-33-Christmas Pageant, Ensemble. 1933-34-Christmas Pageant, Ensemble. Polly is usually very quiet, but since her Easter vacation cruise she and Nettie have buzzed mysteriously in the locker room. Occasionally one hears such enthusiastic ejaculations as Wasn't it marvelous, or Wasn't he cute? Polly has other good points: her eye-lashes, for instance, are envied by more than one short-lashed female. 21 NAN HAMILTON POELLER NAf7llIICy-, Pneller He did a hundred happy thinzs, And then went to bed. -Now WVe Are Six. 1930-31-Christmas Play. 1931-32-Christmas Play, Salon Francais. 1932-33-Christmas Play, Paint and Putty, Spring Play, President of Salon Francais, Student Council. 1933-34-Christmas Play, Secretary of Salon granqais, Paint and Putty, 'Varsity Soccer eam. Oh, Nancy, please translate this passage for me-I can't make head nor tail of it. And Nancy cheerfully lays down her work to help you out. Nancy is one of our authorities on French. What have other classes done without her? ALICE DUNHAM ROWLEY G6-Al!! LAST SEEN WANDERING VAGUELYI' -When We Were Very Young. 1930-31--Orange Class Captain. 1932-33-Chairman of Entertainment Commit- tee for Music Club. 1933-34-Vice-President of Music Club, Christ- mas Play, Ensemble. Has any one seen my music? Oh, dear, I can't find-Oh, here it is right in my hand. Thus you are greeted by Al when you or she enter the room. But after she has found her music, it really is a treat to hear her, for she plays extremely well. 22 SALLY SKINNER casa!!! All sorts of funny thoughts Run round my head. ' -When We Were Very Young. 1932-33-Treasurer of Book Club, Salon Francais. 1933-34-Vice-President of Senior Class, Salon Francais, Orange Hockey Team. Most Sallies are round and fat, for it seems to go with the name, but this Sally isn't. Her nice blondness and blue eyes add to the attractiveness of the Senior Class, and her choice remarks certainly add to its jollity. But if she ever comes to your house, look out for the spoons! For Sal says that her hobby is collecting spoons. fShe didn't say whether she meant paper or silver. Perhaps you'd better find out.J JOA N SULLIVAN acjoanw .... never let things come to him, but always went and fetched them. -The House at Pooh Corner. 1930-31-Paint and Putty, Christmas Play, Spring- Play, Gray Class Captain, Gray Hockey Team, 'Varsity Soccer Team. 1931-32-Paint and Putty, Christmas Play, Gray Hockey Team, 'Varsity Soccer Team. 1932-33-Christmas Play, Spring Play, Secre- tary of Paint and Putty, Salon Francais, CHAT Literary Board, 'Varsity Hockey and Soccer Teams. -1933-34-Salon Francais, Paint and Putty, Secretary of O. S. A., Student Council, Captain Gray Team, 'Varsity Hockey and Soccer Teams, Music Club. In spite of Joan's littleness, she gets more done than many larger people. On the hockey field or basketball platform she runs away with the ball. Indoors she's always willing to help, and does whatever is wanted with a quickness and thoroughness that is surprising. Just go to Joan if you want anything done. 23 LORRAINE HENRIETTA WALKER iiLorry91 I look about for things. Like Rushinzs-out and Rescuingsf' -Now We Are Six. 1930-31-Orange Basketball and Baseball Teams. 1931-32-Paint and Putty, Spring Play, Christ- mas Play, Orange Basketball and Soccer Teams, 'Varsity Baseball Team. 1932-33-Paint and Putty, Christmas Play, Spring Play. Salon Francais, Orange Hockey Team, 'Varsity Soccer, Basketball and Baseball Teams. 1933-34-Treasurer of Paint and Putty, Christ- mas Play, Spring Play, Class Captain, 'Varsity Hockey and Soccer Teams, Salon Francais. Whish, there goes another basket. Maybe the Orange will win, after all. That's Lorry almost all over. The rest is her poetry. If you're ever at a loss for a theme, read her suggestions given in the Literature Depart- ment. All her poems are as good as her athletic achievements, and they are many, as you know. HELEN CRANBERRY WATERMAN MH. G. W7 She would do a Good Thing to Do without thinking about it. -Winnie-the-Pooh. 1929-30-Christmas Pageant. 1930-31-Christmas Pageant. 1933-34-Salon Francais. Helen is another quiet member of the Senior Class, but prepare yourself for a flood of words if you start discussing any current political problem of the day. Could she pos- sibly be related to Senator Borah? Maybe, only we don't advise you to ask, for no doubt she would start to tell you what he said to Congress one nice day a few months ago. 24 LUCY ELY WATERMAN Gilluf! Most faithful of all my Knights. -The House at Pooh Corner. 1930-31-Christmas Play. 1931-32-Christmas Play. 1932-33-Christmas Play, Glee Club. 1933-34-Treasurer Senior Book Club, Chair- man of Tea Committee for Senior-Faculty Tea, Christmas Play, Glee Club, Music Club. If you ever want to know how you stand, or any other personal details--just go to Lucy, and we assure you a perfectly frank answer. Lu is also an authority on teas and other social functions. She ran a very successful tea at Oxford this year and has given several helpful suggestions for others. Perhaps she'll ask you to bring three dozen sandwiches and a tea service next time. We're warning you! MARY THACHER WORTHEN Thach', I have more zeal than wit. ' 1930-31-Christmas Pageant, Voice Ensemble, Orchestra, CHAT Business Board. 1931-32-CHAT Literary Board, Orchestra, Voice Ensemble, 'Varsity Hockey Team. Christmas Pageant, Music Club. 1932-33-CHAT Business Manager, 'Varsity Hockey Team, Orange Class Captain, Treas- urer of Music Club, Glee Club. 1933-34-President of the Music Club, Orches- tra, CHAT Editor-in-Chief, Voice Ensemble, glngstmas Pageant, Student Council, Glee u . 'This is Thach's own choice as being most significant. Everybody makes a mistake sometime, and that is what this picture does. For you are right, Thach is a blonde and not a brunette. Oh, well, what's a little thing like that! And have you seen Thach's new coiffure? She's got the darlingest bangs! And how many times did she cut her hair in one week? Her busyness indeed shows in that respect, but she is often found busy doing other things, too. You'd be surprised! 25 AJZFEEB 804 17,16 A A D 'iEI'IHUf SENIOR CLASS WILL Janette Austin leaves her casual way to Nancy Knowlton. Betty Ballard leaves her devotion to teddy-bears to Ellen Hooper. Just so you'll have something to love, Hooper. Betty Bean leaves a big hole-by the loss of her artistic talents. Betty Boucher leaves to Anne Murtha-no, she's changed her mindg she won't leave him after all. Mabel Cheney leaves her place in the Senior Room to herself for next year. fWe feel that we are leaving a valuable addition to next yearis class., Barbara Costello leaves her soaring voice to a certain soprano with a sawing voice. Miggie Dewing gladly leaves the English Department. Why, whatever will Miss Evans be able to do without you, Miggie? Jean Doherty leaves her vanity to Janet Tilney. KWe mean your compact and comb, ,Iean.j Mary Eddy leaves one of her abilities to each of quite a number of girls. Gerry Foley leaves the example of her acting to Paint and Putty. May we buy our tickets for next year now? Doris Frank leaves her complications in writing to Edith Conklin. Polly Frisbie leaves her animation in athletics to Elizabeth Turner. Effie Cilbertson leaves her tardiness to gym fwhy Effie, were you ever there?J to Adalyn Purdy. Elinor Gregory as a pianist leaves the next Senior Class peace and quiet in sixth period study hall. Anne Hatheway leaves William Shakespeare C Bill lo Annej to the Oxford library. Bee Johnston leaves a pair of unbreakable glasses to the Pound. Lee Merrels leaves some of her curls to Connie Laird. Polly Mitchell leaves her eyebrows to Virginia Tuttle, whose own are unfor- tunately not noticeable. A Nancy Poeller leaves her friend the bus driver as the busian fnot in dictionaryl guardian for future Oxford commuters. Alice Rowley leaves her memory to any one who can find it. Sally Skinner leaves-well you know what it isg we can't explain it-to whoosie- what's-her-name, you know whom we mean. fWe donlt know any more about this than you do.j Joan Sullivan leaves her half-size theme paper to some other Lilliputian. Lorry Walker leaves her gymnastic genius to O. A. A., provided there's room for it all. Helen Waterman leaves her quiet charm to be divided among a certain group of girls at Miss Guernsey's judgment. Lucy Waterman leaves her great big blue eyes for some one else to wonder with. Mary Worthen leaves her giggle to Grace Morris. Now Grace, pity us, and use discretion. 27 SENIOR CLASS PROPHECY Time-2034 A.D. if .:,1f,fQ T was twelve o'clock on Midsummer Night's Eve in the garden. For one lfjti hour the flowers could talk. Little Johnny-Jump-Up squeaked first. '4Hol Smoke, said she, 'fLet's fret ac uainted. I was Sullivan, the head Ml' f hyM' hh c 't D q o t e mne a a amps. Not Sullivan of Oxford, 1934?,' inquired Iris. 'Then don't you remember me- Gregory? Why, I named my fifth child after you. 'fWhoopee, screamed Tiger-Lily. You're both from Oidford? Me too Boucher-you know! Me too, me too, yelled Daisy Dewing. , I also, murmured Cheney Trillium. A great shout went up. All the flowers claimed Oxford as their Alma Mater. - Wh es, said Bluebell Frank, I found out b mathematics that all the class 0 wou e re orn as owers in is gar en. f 1934 Y' yld h h fl ' th' d X Why, Dee, Bouncing Bet Ballard exclaimed, hullo! I took up mathematics too, when Martinelli wouldn't give me a job as Elsa when he sang Lohengrin. That was a funny thing, wasn't it? I sang so beautifully. Twa-twa-twee-tweef' Costello the Poppy sang out, 'fl sang too. Carmen was my favorite heroine. Twa-twa-twee-twee-twa- Enough of that, for Peteis sake, chuckled Bean from Dutchman's Breeches, your talent is too noisy. Take mine for instance: now there is nothing as noise- less and pleasing to the ears as art and sculpture. Why Picasso himself congratu- lated me on my quiet art. You know he never cared for loud colors. Ker-choo, Colden Rod, will you please get outlw howled Holly-Hock Waterman. You're a nuisance. Co awayf' 'flinksf' said Golden Rod Walker. Nuts! Now, Hollyhock, don't lose your temper, murmured the sisterly Aster Water- man. ullemember 'All that glitters is not goldif, Has that got anything to do with it? piped Daffodil Mcrrels. Colden Rod is not gold. Now take a look at me if you want to see real gold. My coloring was always dazzling. Why, I remember that Crown Prince Trevor told me that I alone could make him appreciate real beauty. Why, take the time at the Roxbury Palace- f'Who cares for palaces?,' murmured Forget-Me-Not Johnston. I like the natural beauty of brooks and woods. Palaces, om , eacocks, arades, riceless I h H P P P P P pear s, .... o , no, no, no. You've changed, B. L, said Queen Anne's Lace. What happened? Well, Hathewayf' answered Forget-Me-Not Johnston, I met the duckiest farmer imaginable. We kept cows and chickens happily for thirty-five years. Such devotionf' said Worthen, the Peony, I never would have thought it of you. Still, I was married that long myself, only we didn't live in the country. My usband was a bank president. hPetunia Eddy joined the conversation. If she said shortly, 'fmarried an arc eologist. That is all. V IA lonighwhistle was heard. What is that? breathed helpless little Jean, the io et. , protect me somebody. O. K. Doherty, said Buttercup Frisbie. Here I sit with egg on my face. What is that noise? 28 Delphinium Austin said quietly, '4It's only Water-Lily Foley. She always whistles when she's happy. Is she happy? said Daisy Dewing with big round eyes. Why? Because,'7 answered Delphinium Austin, there are such beautiful stars tonight. You know Water-Lily Foley made her name as a star on Broadway. She is probably reminded of that. Well, anybody, said Skinner the Tea-Rose, 'awho would prefer Broadway to the movies is just stoopid? For a rose, said Thistle Gilbertson, you,re a disgrace. A rose above all should say 'stupidf That's what I always thoughtf, You never thought,', said Tea-Rose, eh what, Gregory, you old Iris? Yup, said Iris. Giggle, said Worthen, the Peony, ugiggle, giggle, giggle, giggle, giggle, giggle, giggle, giggle, giggle. Why? asked Bluebell Frank briefly, Why?', Oh, said Tiger-Lily Boucher, 'cspeaking of marriage, I married a son of old Nassau. That's why l'm called Tiger-Lily. Get the joke, Costello?,' What, asked Poppy, startled. Oh, oh, yes. Ha, Ha. My goodness, do I see Black-Eyed Susan Poeller?,' Yes, itis med, If, corrected Columbine Rowley, ul. '6That's right,', said Black-Eyed Susan Poeller, Hyes, that is right. How did you know, Al? Last Wednesday when it rained,', said Columbine Rowley softly. Al, what are you talking about? asked Mitchell, the Wild Rose. Oh,7' said Columbine, that was something different, wasn't it? I forgot. Mitchell, the Wild Rose, smiled knowingly and nodded understandingly to herself. At that point Cheney Trillium put in a quiet word, 4'Do you remember the water glasses upside down on the senior table? Do you remember the leak in the senior roof? Do you remember the recess gatherings? Do you remember the graduation bouquets? Do you remember the fight about the rings? Do you remember the Senior Tea? Do you remember the Chat pictures? Do you remember the general excellence of the class of 1934? Do you remember? Yes, shouted all the flowers in unison, we do. Those were the days. Hip, hip, hoorayl? Then in one last grand burst before the hour was cut off, with one accord they all shouted, g'Romeo, wherefore art thou, ROMEO? , 29 CONFESSIONS OF THE SENIOR CLASS Name Favorite Pastime Most Often Found Doing Favorite Food J. Austin Driving Saying the wrong thing Celery and hot biscuits B. Ballard Collecting opera Breathing Angel cake records -- B. Bean Drawing conclusions Almost anything Hot-cha-clit with V fmodern artistl Holiday Sauce B. Boucher Taming tigers Imitating Guy Lima beans and Hamburgs M. Cheney Listening to police Lying down with M. EddyLobster Newburg and calls on the radio in Miss Lasell's office Angel cake B. Costello Tennis Humming Bananas and bacon M. Dewing Driving Wandering around Corn on the cob -1 and lima beans J. Doherty Waiting Combing her hair Bee's rolls Dill pickles M. Eddy Playing bridge Resting on bed in Miss Blueberry pancakes fwith good cardsl Lasell's office G. Foley Whistling Gazing into space Bouchettes D. Frank I don't care Not much Strawberry shortcake I'll do anything P. Frisbie Wishing on stars Cleaning desk or locker Blueberry muffins h from five to six E. Gilbertson Reading good books Stretching Chocolate covered peppermints E. Gregory Knitting Knitting Rolls - A. Hatheway Trying to play Throwing salt over her Lobster, ice cream the piano left shoulder B. Johnston Flying Using glasses for other Tomato juice purposes L. Merrels Going to New Haven Talking Candied pineapple P. Mitchell Reading movie Quarreling with the twinsWatermelon pickle magazine N. Poeller Painting Playing with a pencil Vegetable soup - and licorice A. Rowley Collecting card Dreaming Candied sweet potatoes jokers and and candy - music scrap book S. Skinner Collecting spoons Messing around Cream puffs J. Sullivan Playing with the Looking for something French fried potatoes shades in Room 14 she's mislaid L. Walker Swimming Getting into trouble Peach cobbler L. Waterman Dogs Trying to fix her hair Black cow and ice - cream M. Worthen J itneying Opening windows in Applesauce and Senior study hall spare ribs Entire Class Sitting on the radiator Getting into trouble Any and all ' 30 Q -nd rr ka CONFESSIONS OF THE SENIOR CLASS Favorite Expression Weakness Ambition Oh, nerts! Fuzzy animals To be a cartoonist. Heck Mouie bears To be International Tennis Champion. It's terrific Plaids and pipes .To use an emergency door. Smooooth Tweeds and accents To pilot an airplane. Simply terrible Dogs To find buried treasure. Oh, I don't care Horses To graduate. Divine Salted nuts To be able to play the piano. It's simply swell Boats To travel. Oh, my goodness Francis Lederer To stop a wedding at the critical moment. Oh, don't be sill-ee Brown eyes like cow's ears To be a Congresswoman. Yes, but- Archduke Otto To knit something without having to spend an hour mending it. V How simply wonderful Cats To send a false alarm. How utterly stupid fnot pronounced stoopid ,Dick fRomeo to youy Y ou wou1dn't understand. ssLOusyn Brooks sweaters To get a job. Oh, dear Cats, books To travel everywhere and raise cats. Jest a minute Princeton Freshmen Herald Take a picture of something and have it come out. Pm so sorry I'm late Horses and roller coasters To go Hawaiian. The beauty of it is- Smooth-looking cars To go to. Honolulu. I don't know Ships To be a success. I forgot Dancing-natural To swallow an oyster. Tskie-Tyskie Phaetons Break a plate glass window. It's a perfect scream Francis Lederer To drive a trolley car. Gollee! B. M. B. To have a car of her own. W'hat in the name of a Arguing To be able to sing. nation Oh, really ? Bracelets To be or not to be -a traveling salesman. Pm taking my Romeo To graduate and get married. afternoon off 31 CALENDAR Sept. 19-School opened. Oct. 5-We are now all thoroughly convinced that we have to diet. Miss Guernsey announced that we are too heavy for the children's playground equipment. Also we are glad to hear that manners are coming back. Oct. 9-Miss Roberts, 'cellist, and Miss Hall, accompanist, entertained us with a Oct. Oct Oct Oct. half-hour of delightful music. 16- Now, Seniors, be fair. Don't save up your afternoons and take a whole week off. .20-New Girls' Party-entertained with nursery rhymes and food. 'aShe cut off their tails with a carving knife! . 23-Miss Avery talked on Germany. Poor thing, it has an inferiority complex, but pretends it hasn't.,' 26-Miss Ward, from Eva Le Callienne's Civic Repertory Theater. Watch out, Peter, the pirates are up there at a free performance of Peter Pan . And if she only knew Romeo's effect! Nov. 2-Again the unrivaled Hampton Quartet! Will we ever tire of 4'Juba , Mighty Like a Rose , or Swing Low, Sweet Chariot ? Nov. 6-Miss Noble talked to us about the Community Chest, and also showed us some movies illustrating the wonderful work which it is doing. Nov. 10-Out at noon. It seems we had no home work, but no one knows why. Oh, well, thatis not important. Nov.20-Miss Ray and Mr. Lamb, playing the violin and piano, respectively, treated us this morning. The background was illumined with a beautiful bowl of chrysanthemums. Nov. 23---The final hockey game between the Orange and Gray. No one felt satis- fied when the score ended in a tie-2 all, but congratulations, teams, it was beautiful playing. Nov.27-Mrs. Paul of the Theological Seminary gave a very interesting talk on Nov. Dec. Dec. Dec. Jan. Jan. Jan. Chinese costumes. Some of us wore them to illustrate. Remember the one with gold embroidery, and the one a hundred years old? 29-Three Cheers! School out at twelve for Thanksgiving recess. fWe forgot to look at the absent list the next lVlonday.J 4-'gMoney is a yard stick by which you can measure value. Miss Avery told us about gold. Did you know that all the gold in the world would make a forty-foot cube? 8-Of course the Juniors and Seniors remember the delightful talk which Mrs. Bentinck gave us about Katherine Mansfield. 21-Carols and Merry Christmas in the morning. The pageant, The Song of the Starn, was a great success, thanks to Miss Weaver's wonderful music and the excellent directing. On to Jerusalemli' 8-Back to school again after a 'cperfectn vacation. At least the majority thought so! 11-Bach and Debussy were the composers from which Miss Tiffany and Mrs. Blanchard played some delightful selections.. 15-Miss Avery tells us that America is making history. And don't you feel sorry for the Washington secretaries who have to read a one hundred and thirty- 32 two-page news review at the breakfast table? However, those are a very few of Mr, Roosevelt's policies, ,lust watch the newspapers! Jan. 23-Mr. Alden made a plea for peace. ,lan J an Feb Feb F eb Feb Feb. Feb . 24-26-Everyone welcomed 1i?J mid-years. How many 'Bas' did you have?,' .29- Smell dos fish fryin'? Well, that was the Fish Fry from HGreen Pas- tures which the Junior and Senior Dramatics Class presented. How soothing to our torn hearts? 1-Discussions about the Greek Games Cod or Goddess. Maybe it was incon- venient for Bacchus when the eighteenth amendment was passed. Pan was elected for the official god. Now, where shall we get the g0at's legs? 5-Oscar Wilde's Birthday of the Infantal' was presented successfully by the seventh grade. 9-1.0.00 a. m. The Memnon Quartet, consisting of Miss Ray, Miss Shour, Mr. Krane, and Mr. Doellner, and Miss Tiffany at the piano, played from Bach and Beethoven. We hope to hear more from them. 11.30 a. m. Professor Warren didn't miss the train to Hartford, so, lucky for us, we had a fascinating talk about Lincoln. 16-Mr. and Mrs. Laubin thrilled us with Indian folk lore, dances, and songs. The costumes were wonderful, especially the head-dresses. But the lndians are not so happy as we had thought. 20-Thanks to the blizzard we had a longer vacation than had been planned. ltls too bad we couldn't try living in igloos! 26-Miss Avery explained Austrials critical situation, and then told us of the wonderful trip around the world which she is going to take this summer. Maybe she'll help to keep the countries out of war. Let's hope so! And the radios were all going at 9.17. Why? To hear that Oxford was to have no school the next day! Mar. 2-Toy soldiers, ,lacks-in-the-Boxes, and dolls were impersonated by the second, third, and fourth grades when they gave their annual demonstration. Mar. 5-The Faculty was entertained at tea in the Assembly by the Seniors. Mar.9-Fifth, sixth, seventh, and eighth grades held their demonstration at the Y. W. Oxford and Westminster had their annual get-together . The Oxford String Ensemble played and the Glee Clubs from both schools sang. Dancing stopped at exactly 11.27 after an evening which everyone enjoyed. Mar. 12h-Martha Blake, an Oxford alumna, played the piano, and Sally Dodge of Boston played the violin. Mar. 16-High School Dem . Don't knock her off the bridge, please! Mar. 19-Freshman Dramatics group presented Winifred Hawkridge's 'fThe Florist Shopv. A very delightful performance, Freshmen. Mar.21-Spring, Spring, beautiful Spring! Mar. 22-Sophomore Dramatics group gave The Romancersw, by Rostand. Very well done. Mar. 23-Apr. 2-Spring Vacation. Apr. 16-High School class in Latin presented Androcles and the Lion . May 30-Memorial Day fHolidayJ. i June 8-Graduation: I hear those gentle voices singing -the 105th Psalm! 33 Ill! A Q., FROST PICTURES Senior Prize lfssny Who paints the lovely frost pictures that appear suddenly on the window-panes, when the temperature creeps slyly down towards zero and all drowsy people are tucked tightly in their heds? Who is he? l really want to know. ls he the jolly red-nosed fellow ahout whom l learned a song in second grade? If he is, I can picture l1im very easily. Jack Frost is a sly short-statured 1112.111 noted especially for his red nose. He wears a dark green jerkin and looks something like 0119 of lloliin llood's men in Sherwood Forest. He only ventures forth at night. and has never hcen seen, even hy those who sit up late. ln his llillltl he carries a silver colored pail and in his helt are thrust two hrushes that he can quickly grasp to paint the window-panes. How quickly he must workl Hut l suppose he has many workers to help him do so much in one night. The silvery pictures he paints with l1is llltlgit' hrush how lovely they arel l like to lie in hed in the morning and imagine that these pictures are taken from fairy life. l.et us look at the first window-pane and sec what jack lfrost left last night. What a lovely design is on the first window! The frost is very thick at the lnoltoni and looks like gleaming salmon scales that have just been dipped i11 the sparkling sea. A hit higher there are dainty filigreed patterns: strange ferns with curly stems, and oak leaves that are cold to the touch and melt under the pressure of a finger. Still higher are shells made of minute pieces of marcasitc. and peacock feathers with only the eyes showing. lfinally a thin hand exnlmroidered with feathers is imprinted along the edge. Un the empty place near the top corner l make some newly manufactured frost hy hlowing on the cold pane. 'lihe next window-pane shows a tropical picture. Small flowers and shruhs are growing around the mouth of a large cove. At the top of this opening hang two large frozen drops that look like pearls dripping from the palm trees overhead. Strange liirds are hiding in the grass while a stork flies ahoyc with his long legs streaming out hehind him. ln the hackground grows a tropical forest with palm trees shaking their plumcd heads in the distance. Even their gleaming trunks stand out against the flowers. l'inched in one corner stands a small deformed rahhit with ears erect. ln the center of the third pane is a large piece of naked glass shaped like a shoe upside down. All around the edge, but rather thin on top, is stretched a piece of moire satin emlwroidered with daisies and dewdrops. Below is a lovely picture of the deep sea. Fan coral with minute fishes hiding in its arms stands on mossy rocks. At one side may he seen the roots of a huge oak tree that rises to spread over the whole sky, overshadowing it with crystal arms. On the next pane is a lonely desert scene with a sprinkling of flowers overhead that look like stars growing on long frosty stems. Every hit of the glass is covered Q14 with hoar frostg even the space between the stars seems screened with a light veil. A large clumsy beast walks slowly in the centerg on his back grow flowers and birds. The fifth square shows snowy storm clouds rushing over the furze-covered ground. Overhead flocks of birds are winging their way homeward, and the dust is blown in billows over all. But in one corner stands a tall pillar of cloud that reaches Heaven but remains untouched by the storm. The last window-pane is sparsely sprinkled with frosty stars. Beneath their icy twinkle white waves dash upon a snowy shore. Far in the distance a lonely bird may be seen flying homeward. The clouds have disappeared, and below the roaring waves disconsolately rush upon the sand. How soon these fairy pictures must dissolve and disappear. As soon as the warming sun shines on the glittering panes, poof-and within a few minutes all that are left are some large drops rolling down the glass to fall at last on the window-sill. So quickly do things fade away when we would like to keep them, and the things we least desire seem to remain with us. I wish these pictures might stay there, but tomorrow night Jack Frost will come again and paint the panes anew. ANNE HATHEWAY LOVELY SOUNDS i Senior Prize Poem The silver slashing downpour of the rain, Washing, slipping down the window-pane, The breaking of black thunder in the night, Followed by zig-zag streaks of brilliant lightg The beating pounding waves against the land And water rushing in across the sandg The constant crackling spitting sound at night Of flames of glowing fire so red and brightg The whispers of the light wind to the leaves That rustle back an answer to the breezeg The lacy notes descending from the sky, Dropped from the throats of warblers passing by- Thus talks the voice of Nature-this her speech, These lovely sounds no human voice can reach. SALLY BALLARD. NIGHT Senior Prize Poem Nightg I lie upon the ground Pressing it, hugging all the cold damp grassg Its life flows into me, and I feel warmg All my troubles and my worries pass From my body to-I know not where. I feel a new spirit surging into meg I look upg blackness void of life, Only depth and blackness as far as I can see. Then one point of light, then many IIIOICQ It seems that every angel took a pin, And gently pricked the curtain of grim night, Letting the light of day, which had been The sun, shine through in tiny flares And make the stars which dimly blink up there. Nightg a new life from where in day I trod Comes into me, the beauty of my God. SALLY BALLARD. 35 LOUDER GONGS Senior Prize Story It was dusk and a hot mist hung across the dull orange of the afterglow. A harsh whistle,s shrieking was muffled to lifeless silence by the damp warmth. Beyond the squat thatched huts and tiny fields rose in ugly merciless relief the factory, with this great unknown black funnel which shouted and rent the skies. It was six: time for the workers to shift. They poured forth from the cramped hallway into the comparative coolness of the evening. They breathed heavily of the poisonous air which was like a fresh breeze after the mephitic heat of sick, miserable children. Their black heads were covered by fluffs of cotton which clung also to their blue gowns. Their faces were not the warm brown of the generations before. They were a pale sickish yellow, for they saw only the light of dawn, sunset, and the full moon. Some one had fainted, but the others jostled on, unheeding. A slender figure with a crutch paused at the gateway, then hurried back to help the unconscious child. 'fOh, said she softly, it is Black Jade, she will die soon, I fearf, The reedlike arrn was strong, but it wavered as One-Foot lifted the limp body, resting the child's head against her crutch. She staggered to the gate. Ah, her foot was on the cobble now, and here was the pond. She laid her burden down and reached with fingers, trembling from constant hectic work, for water from the stagnant pool. Blowing the scum from the surface she splashed cool drops on her friend's face, then laid her on the soft earth and rose' quickly. Swiftly over the stones her crutch tapped a lively tune while through her one over-worn cloth slipper she could feel the hard pebbles. Black Jade lies unconscious at the millgate, she called to a young woman feeding her five-year-old son at a cottage door. l must fly or Old Mother will be displeased. Again she started down the road, but slowly and more slowly her one nimble foot fell until she lapsed into a weary limp, sighing heavily. At a cross-road she paused, seeming to listen attentively. From behind a garden wall came voices speaking in a foreign language and laughing. It was her happiest dream: to visit the foreigncris garden. At last, by the door of a clean small hut she stopped. 6'Wake up, One-Foot, she whispered, slapping bright spots into her wan cheeks, Wake up, for you must worklv Inside the hut from a dark corner burned a tall slender taper, its flame a yellow flower, motionless in the stillness. Beside it, bending low over a piece of embroidery, crouched an old woman. Uh,'l she grunted. Late again! I suppose you went snooping in the foreign- cr's garden. I always said those white devils breeded evil! No, old mother, replied the girl quietly, I did not stop there this night. I stayed to help a dying childf, Help a dying childlv The old woman's face reflected scorn. Help a dying child, when your embroidery is only half doneln Is there tea, old mother?', questioned One Foot. I No, there is water. Do you know that the good foreigner said that your work IS too perfect, Grand-daughter? said the old woman. Very well, murmured the girl as she sipped a bowl of water. 36 Old Mother crawled back into the narrow board bed which creaked under her weight. Do not sing too loud or you will wake your father and brother. The youngest has gone to the village, were her parting words. Her embroidery in her pale fingers, she began to chant quietly. Temple chants, marriage songs, laborers, tunes, and sweet quaint nursery rhymes accompanied the even, agile movements of her short steel needle. On and on she sewed and sang until her voice grew weary and her long graceful fingers ached. All sounds had ceased. The last pedlar had called his last eerie plea. The last bird cage had been put under cover for night and the birds were quiet again. The darkness was intense. A lantern swung along the path, and a firm footstep paused at the door. '!Little One Foot, said a young steady voice, working still! It is midnight. uYes, brother Hua, I must finish by the first of the week, she murmured. 'LI have news from the oldest brother, he said quickly. ul have been down to the dock to fetch it. What does he say ?,, she asked eagerly. L'He has received an honorary degree in the foreign country. He is wonderful! breathed One Foot. Hua threw the letter down. HHe goes to foreign lands! He learns! He sees great things, great people! We work, work, work, he burst impetuously. 'LI hate him, I hate him, I hate him! One Foot paused, her small face like a dead magnolia, her dark eyes clutching at their kindred night. GI hate him, too, she whispered hoarsely. They sat quietly in the soft blackness. Poor little lame sister! said Hua tenderly, You work harder than all and you have no joy. t'0h yes, I do, when I can creep into the foreigner's garden. She drew a deep breath. 'GOh Hua, you should see the roses! He looked angrily into her puzzled face. I am not angry at you, little sister. Goodnight? Midnight passed and darkness paled. She drank another cup of water and sewed on. The two-side butterflies were all done. Were not butterflies made to fly? She laid her dark head on the table and fell asleep. Black strands of hair matted damply on her pale forehead. Waking with a start she saw that it was llhter, but still she could not see without the taper, which now burned low. Again her light fingers flew over the embroidery. She did not sing, but thought of many things, of Hua, of the brother, of Black Jade, of the rice crop, and of the foreignefs garden. It was dawn. It would be hotter than yesterday.. She blew out the taper and limped to the door. Noiselessly she folded her work and laid it way. After washing and combing the cotton from her hair she ate a bowl of cold rice and then rinsed the bowl. Out into the muggy air, and the crutch clicked bravely on the cobbles. She paused at the cross road, then turned up it quickly and flew, limping but agile, up a small path to a low gate. The garden! It was glorious covered with dew. Here every- thing smelled beautiful and fragrant. There heavily on a bending stalk hung a red rose. Cautiously she limped through the gate and with a half-wild look in her tired eyes she snatched the dew-filled flower. In a moment a man rushed up, the foreigner's servant. Pest!,' he cried. uDirty factory girl! -Steal, would you! Spoll gardenln He hurled a small stone at the slender retreating form. The crutch again sounded on the cobbles. From the black funnel a loud discordant shriek slashed through the glowing sky. JANE HUNTINGTON. 37 JACKING DEER Senior Essay Contest-Second Place It was a brisk, clear night in Autumn. The lake was very still except for an occasional sound-a loud whack as a beaver flapped his tail. We walked down the run-way, rolling two canoes down to the water, and the noise echoed all over the lake. For some reason everyone whispered. We moved about quietly. We lashed the two canoes together, with the bow of one a little ahead. We got in, pushed off, and floated some way out, the people in the stern canoe started paddling slowly and quietly. We crossed the lake in silence until we got near the farther shore. Then someone turned on the powerful searchlight that was fixed on the bow of the front canoe. Everyone was still, and the canoe drifted along. The beam was focused on the bank. All of a sudden someone made a motion toward a spot where two points of light were gleaming. We focused the light on that spot. We heard a crashing, splashing sound and the deer plunged across a little inlet. The light caught him. He stood as if paralyzed and looked at us. The beam struck him in the eyes. We glided closer until we were only four or five feet away. He was trembling and his flanks were shaking. The canoe hit a log that was just under the surface of the water, and the beam was thrown out of line of the deer. There was the call of a moose, then the splash as the deer left the water, the crash as he entered the woods, the snapping of twigs. The noise echoed through the still night until it finally died away. We turned the light off and swung out into the lake. JANE 0'CONNOR. REINCARNATION Senior Poetry Contest-Second Place Autumn's flame has faded now to brown, And all the trees which stood in beauty proud, Before the frost had settled with his shroud Upon their glowing robes, are sad, and frown, And stretch their naked arms to Autumnis sky All blue and cold. And ivy threads, so weird, Hang from the church like an old man's beard Through which the moaning wind may sweep and cryg And grass that danced in the summer breeze Is cold and stiff and lifeless on the ground, And faded flowers have a little mound Of leaves around their roots lest they should freeze. Although the whole world seems as still as death The Spring will give it new and living breath. KATHERINE Ginn. 38 BITTERSWEET Senior Story Contest-Second Place UMa, do you have to go out today? My throat hurts, and I don't want to stay here alone. Mrs. Cagland looked down at the little boy pulling at her skirt. Poor Micky, he did look pale, and even as he spoke a great cough shook his body. The doctor had said that he would be all right if he had proper food and clothing. But there wasnit much food in the house, and his coat was so thin. Oh, if she could only get him a warmer coat, and give him a good meal for once in his life! She smiled at him, and patted his head. 'ilt won't seem so very long. You can do the picture puzzle I bought you for Christmas, and read one of the nice books Mrs. Bowman sent youf' With a pang she realized that she had mentioned the same puzzle and books every day for a month. Micky had finished the puzzle Christmas day, and gobbled up the books during the following week, but every day he had faithfully done the puzzle, until he could put in the pieces blindfolded, and by now he could recite whole pages from the books. He smiled too, a weak little smile, but he cheerfully said, Yes, Ma. Then he remembered, and cried,. Oh, Ma, ,lim said that if I went to the library with him, he could get me a card, and then l could get all the books I wa.nt. Can I, Ma? Jim got his card at school, and the teacher said that anybody could get one, that could readf' Why es, said Mrs. Cagland, You can get it this afternoon, if your cough is better. but donit go out if it's very cold, and ask Jim to help you crossing streets. Now good-bye, Micky. Be a good boy, and go over to ,limis for lunch. She kissed him, and hurried out of the house. Poor Micky. She had got in the habit of calling him that, even though she never called herself poor Mrs. Cagland.. He was so young and small, and there were so many things she'd like to get for him. At Mrs. Bowman's house she had seen all the toys that her little boy had. How she wished that she could buy Micky some like those. But what he liked best was books, and they were the most expensive. It took a long time to save up enough to buy one. She was glad he could go to the library. She'd forgotten all about it. It was so long since she'd been there. Her face brightened as she thought of the- pleasure Micky would have from the books he could get, but then darkened again. What he needed most was a coat, and it seemed an impossibility to get that. Despondently she walked down the street a little farther and then turned into a tiny shop. Though small and dark, it was scrupulously clean, and the two counters were piled with different kinds of flowers and berries. Good morning, Mrs. Cagland,'l said a bright young girl behind one of the counters. lf you will wait for a few minutes, the truck will take you to your corner. Mrs. Cagland smiled, and sat down in a chair at the back of the shop. The young girl always impressed her favorably, because she liked to think that she had once looked like that. She suddenly realized how old she felt, and wondered if Micky thought of her as old. She was only thirty-seven, but she looked easily ten years older. Her forehead was deeply furrowed, and her brown hair had the dingy look which sometimes precedes its graying. Her hands had been coarsened by many years of dish-washing, and were chapped by her work. Her face was also wind-burned, but it gave her a good color, which heightened the shade of her blue eyes. She sighed when she looked at her figure. lt had once been very good, and she had been proud of it, but hours of standing are as bad for the figure as hours of sitting, and she had grown considerably stouter, in spite of her small rations. 39 Mrs. Cagland, the truck is here, some one called, and hurriedly she got to her feet. The back of the truck was loaded with bittersweet. Surely they didn't expect that she could sell all that in one day? Well, she said, as she climbed into the truck, sending flowers to the army ? No, laughed the driver. We'll put one of the crates in the greenhouse across from your corner. Then we won't have to bring any more out here for a few days. Oh, I see. That's a good idea. Then I can come out here early the next couple of days, without waiting for you. Perhaps I'll get some more customers. 1 hope you do. It's cold work-selling these berries, said the man, as he helped her arrange her wares. Well, good-bye, and good luck. I'll be back about six o'clock. It was already getting cold, and she pulled her coat closer about her. lt was thin enough, but poor Mickyis was even thinner. There now, she was thinking .about him again. She must tend to business, and think only about that. She wondered how many customers she would have. Of course there would be the man who always stopped to buy a little sprig of bittersweet for his' buttonhole. Mr. Coodheart, she called him, because she knew he didn't need a new sprig each day. Once a week, on Tuesday, he bought a big bunch of it for the house. He was so nice and never wanted any change, no matter how much she had. Then there were the two little girls who always bought a small bunch for their teacher. The school must be full of it by the end of the week, she thought, but they bought some every noon, taking a long time to choose the nicest bunch. Her only other customers were weekly ones. There was the tall, shy, young man who drove up every Wednesday in his red roadster and bought a big bunch for his girl, who lived a little way up the street. Mrs. Cagland could tell the time by him. He always arrived at four, just in time for tea, with a possible invitation for supper. The nurses at the hospital often bought some, too, but a Friday was apt to be a very uneventful day. About twelve o'clock she felt very discouraged. She had sold only two little bunches, and she was very cold. Her lunch warmed her up a little, ber-ause she had long ago decided that a thermos bottle was worth the price, and her coffee was piping hot. For two hours after lunch she felt cheerful again, and besides Mr. Coodheart and the children, she had had three customers. To be sure, they had only bought little bunches, but that was something. As she grew colder, she amused herself by commenting on the cars and their owners who passed her. There goes a fast one, she said, as a Packard with a chauffeur rolled past her. Or, His brakes don't seem to be working too well. A touring car, with four or five girls and boys of about seventeen, stopped on the street opposite her, waiting for the lights to turn. She was thoroughly chilled now, and their gay laughter grated on her ears. Little chits, what do they care about besides themselves? Who are they but children of the idle rich. They gad about and enjoy themselves, while my poor Micky will he working when he,s that old. As she spoke, the light changed, and the car turned into the street she was on. One of the boys saw the woman and the berries, and he called to the driver. Say, Bill, how about decorating the hall tonight with bittersweet? There's a woman with a lot of it. Yes, that,s a good idea. Let's, one of the girls cried, and the car drew up in front of Mrs. Cagland. We want enough bittersweet to decorate the hall at school, said the girl who had spoken before. 40 0h,,' cri'ed Mrs. Cagland. Is this enough? There's another crate across the street. Why, yes, I think we could use more, said the girl doubfully. What do you think, Fred? Yes, let's have a lot. We'll go across the street and get it, while you put this in the carf' How much will it be? said the girl, as she got out to help gather up the berries. 4'Well, it,ll be fifteen dollars, said Mrs. Cagland, lxaltingly, afraid that the price was too high. You see, this is half a crate, and each crate is supposed to be ten dollarsf' Heavens, can we get all this for fifteen dollars! cried the girl. '4You pay her, Billy. l've only got ten in my purse. Mrs. Cagland looked aghast at the girl, but the boy calmly handed her fifteen dollars. Thank you so much, said the girl. '6Good-byef' '6Good-bye, gasped Mrs. Cagland. I-I hope the party's a successf' Gaily she waved to them, and then gasped again at the sight of the money. lt was just too good to be true. But it certainly was fifteen dollars, and ten of it was hers. She would be able to get Micky a puzzle, and something nice for supper, and have lots to save up for a rainy day. She began to walk along the street. She'd stop in at Mrs. Bowman's and tell the maid her good news. Her best friend worked for Mrs. Bowman, and she often stopped in on her wav home to help Mary with the dishes. It was too early for the dishes tonight. She-'d only say Hello and go on home. She turned into the Bowman's back walk and burst into the kitchen. Mary, look! she cried, and then realized that Mrs. Bowman was in the kitchen. Oh, excuse me, Mrs. Bowmanf, she said. allow do you do, Mrs. Bowman. Oh, hellofl said Mrs. Bowman. I was just talking to Mary about you. Wonit this coat fit Micky? My Tommy's outgrown it, and itis almost new. Half an hour later Mrs. Cagland got on the bus, the box containing the coat clutched under her arm. What should she buy for Micky's supper? ' SALLY RICE. THAR'S GOLD IN THEM THAR HILLS Senior Essay Contest-Third Place In the mud and scum of things There alway, alway something sings. -Emerson. When I was a little girl, I lived near a river. .Across the river lay an unattrac- tive junk pile, and I often saw people darting among the contents. I used to wonder what they could find there that they wanted. A junk pile to me meant an uncouth, sickening heap of refuse, useful maybe in this one way: that goats might eat the paper off the empty cans that were scattered Lhere. One day this summer my father brought home a collection of stuffed birds that a generous patient had given him. Examining them that night, I took one of 41 the birds out of the box to see if I could guess what kind it was. It wasn't hand- some-just an ordinary dull-colored little bird. In handling it I ruffed the feathers a little bit, and in doing so I caught a glimpse of a beautiful red gold color like a sunset, lying just beneath the feathers near the head. That touch of color hidden underneath made it seem a most lovely bird to me after all. That little bird and that junk heap are obviously different, yet they are alike in one way because they both hide something beautiful. Yes, a junk heap as well as a treasure chest can hold something precious. It may not seem so to some people, because they are so filled with things they consider lovely that they cannot see why one who has not known many lovely things finds articles of junk such as a tire or an empty perfume bottle hidden among excelsior and dust or a cylinder from a cast-off engine things of worth and beauty. Sometimes I think that junk explorers get more joy out of finding articles in junk than people who buy sparkling jewels and Persian rugs. What do we live for? Just the things that draw our eye and dazzle us? Personally, I should receive more joy out of suddenly discovering something wonder- ful and new in an object that before seemed black and dismal and utterly hopeless. I'm sure lives would be richer if they but sought deeper in the right spirit for beauty. The meat nearest the bone is most tasty, the soil is richest where it is not seen, the ugliest face may hide a soul like a mine with rich veins of gold. The obtaining of their beauties leads over rocky stubborn paths, but that is nothing if one is eager, and wholeheartedly wishes to explore barren and dreary-looking hills for gold. ALICE ROWLEY. MISER Senior Poetry Contest-Third Place I see opals in the sunset, Diamonds in the snow, Garnets in the blood-red early morning glow. I find emeralds in the forest, Sapphires in the sea, And as I am a miser, hug them close to me. If I could be a poet Then I'd write lovely things. I'd tell you of my precious stones in words with wings. But as I cannot do that, All I can do is see. And being just a miser, hug them close to me. Emru CONKLIN. 42 PERSONAL Senior Story Contest-Third Place A woman, young at forty, who finds herself bounded on the north by children, on the east by pious old ladies, on the south by rheumatic old men, and on the west by nervous spinstfers, desires escape by correspondence with people who are living today. Interests+travel, drama, writing, sports. Number 3333. After Alicia Gale had mailed this advertisement to a Chicago paper, she walked home hopefully and nervously, wondering how soon an answer might come. She was bored by the old spinsters who were interested only in the society columns and gossip of the newspapers, bored by the rheumatic old men, and by the pious old ladies who thought that Alicia was too gay for her age-though how they knew her age was more than she could find out. She walked through the park along the lake shore. It was a beautiful summeris day, grand for a sail, she thought. The lake always seemed beautiful to her, and she longed to be out on it-anything as a diversion from the monotony of her daily life. But she hoped that the advertise- ment would give her some excitement to occupy and interest her-for a while at least. She pictured several kinds of people who might answer her entreaty. Perhaps it might be an invalid who had traveled and who now enjoyed telling about his experiences. No, she didn't want that kind. She wanted some one alive, ambitious, energetic. The tap-tap of a cane behind her reminded Alicia of her immediate surround- ings. Then a harsh cough revealed the presence of Mr. Wardwell, who lived in the rooms just above Aliciais. How often she had listened to the beat of that cane over her head! She turned to say, Good afternoon , and Mr. Wardell began his conversation with various remarks about the weather, as usual. Mr. Wardwell walked along with Alicia until they reached the walk into the apartment house. They stood looking at the lake for a few moments, the one old and bent, leaning on his cane, the other tall, thin, attractive, alert. They turned to mount the steps, but were detained by the sudden appearance of Miss Truslow, a nervous spinster who continually waved her hands and tapped one on the arm, either to gain one's attention or merely as a gesture. She explained hurriedly that she was on her way to the station to meet an old friend who was coming to live in Chicago but was to spend a few days at her apartment before selecting one himself. Then she was off in a flurry of flying arms, leaving Alicia to wonder who in the world this old friend might be, to cause so much excitement. Well, they would have to wait and see. Mr. Wardwell and Alicia continued up the steps into the building. She declined the invitation to tea later that afternoon. Mrs, Wardwell would be so glad to see you, he said. His poor Priscilla had been laid flat by the shock which she had received from the news that her great-aunt Lucy had died-and hadn't left a cent of money. Alicia knew that if she went she would have to weep with Mrs. Wardwell over her misfortune, but she did not feel a bit like weeping. So she politely looked sympathetic, told Mr. Wardwell that she would be up to see his wife soon, and went into her own rooms. One always saw the lake before anything else on entering Alicia's apartment. The huge bay window in the living room directly opposite the entrance framed a beautiful picture-the sky and lake in the background, the shoreand park in the foreground. Alicia loved it. The living room itself was furnished simply, but with good taste. A large open fireplace had huge comfortable chairs on either side, and book-shelves lined the walls. It was obvious that Alicia particularly enjoyed reading about foreign countries, for the books on the shelves had to do with every imaginable part of the globe. She often forgot her loneliness and boredom as she read. It really was a pleasant sort of life, although Alicia found it lonely. 43 Of course she had Oswald as a companion. He would certainly hate not to be included as a member of the household, for he was an important parrot. But he had a sad habit of uttering a deafening shriek at intervals, which perhaps lessened his popularity with visitors. It must have been at the beginning of one of his efforts that Alicia entered hex apartment after leaving Mr. Wardwell, for the first sound that greeted her was an ungodly howl which made her jump so that the key fell from her hand. Not that Alicia had never heard the sound before, but she had forgotten all about the poor parrot for the moment and was still thinking about the letters which she hoped to receive soon. But it didn't take long for her to remember where she was, for Oswald continued his noise until Alicia could collect her thoughts enough to pacify him. She finally succeeded in forcing him to be quiet, and he really looked ashamed of himself, if that were possible. That evening Alicia saw with satisfaction that her advertisement was in the paper. Already she was impatient for an answer. She wondered how she could possibly pass the time between the various mail deliveries. Of course, she could call on the Wardwells and Elmira Truslowg the latter was very amusing when she told Alicia how terribly old peo le gossiped-of course she didn't realize that she was guilty herself. But that didift sound particularly enthralling. She preferred to walk in the park. The next morning the mailman came but brought noth-ing but a card announcing a sale at a department store. Alicia was disappointed, but realized that it really was too early to expect results. She decided to go shopping-perhaps the sale would be absorbing-but changed her mind and walked instead. When she came in again, a letter on the hall table roused her hopes for a moment, but proved to be only another announcement. She tore it up, disgusted at herself for wanting an answer so much. Next day she realized that she would have to go to the newspaper office, for she had left no forwarding instructions with them, and of course her name and address didn't appear in the advertisement. So she felt cheered at the prospect of action, and took a bus early. At the office every one else seemed entirely calm and unperturbed-strange, when she was so excited. g'Number 3333? said the clerk. Yes,,' answered Alicia. 'alt will probably be addressed simply T5333' for there was no name on the ad. Do look carefully, for it is very importantf, She found that she had been tapping her foot and twisting her glove in her hand in her ini- patience. The clerk got up, went to a file, and pondered over it for a few moments. Finally she pulled out an envelope and brought it to Alicia. Here, she said, is something addressed to 3333. Maybe it is yours. Would you please verify the contents of the envelope? Alicia took it, opened it carefully, and began to read. Several pages of mas- culine handwriting, rather large but very neat, presented themselves. Yes, the letter was hers-no doubt about that. She stood there, already fascinated by the contents, for her correspondent had evidently traveled a great deal. She walked out of the office, her eyes still glued to the pages. She bumped into several people, auto- matically said uexcuse me , and went on. When she reached home she read the letter again. How exciting it was to hear from some one she had never seen and yet whom she already seemed to know. The writer had come to live in Chicago about a year before, he said, and he too wanted to know people who were interested in travel and the theater. The letter was signed Aubrey. Box 444. Oh dearf' sighed Alicia. Why didn't he give me his whole name? Now I don't know to whom l'm writing. I donit know where he lives. Oh well, I'll answer this and then see what comes of it. But I do wish that I knew what he looked like. 44 That evening Alicia wrote to Aubrey, Box 4447 She told him of her sur- roundings, of her travels, of her reading. But she didnit send him her address. She decided to wait for that until later. She mailed the letter about ten o'clock. A few days later Alicia received a second letter from the same person. It really was a game. Each told about his own experiences, sometimes with books, sometimes with his interests and ambitions. Alicia was a bit annoyed, however, that he did not ask her real name and address. She thought that he would at least like to know who his correspondent was and what she looked like. She often dis- cussed him with Oswald, who listened intently but refused to give any opinion on the matter. The day after the second letter Alicia decided to call on the Wardwells, for she had not yet been to see how Mrs. Wardwell was after the terrible shock. True, Alicia had met Mr. Wardwell just the day before in the park, and they had talked about travel in Europe. He really was quite an intelligent old man, she thought, if only he wouldn't always cough and remark about the weather. She went out, leaving Oswald howling away, and wondered whether the Wardwells would appre- ciate her call if they had to hear Oswaldis insistent voice, too. Mr. Wardwell opened the door and said good-morning. Evidently he had been reading the paper to Mrs. Wardwell, for she was sitting by the window opposite her husba.nd's favorite easy chair. Of course Mr. Wardwell began his discussion of the weather conditions prevailing at that particular time, and also of the prospects of a pleasant afternoon so far as the weather was concerned. Mrs. Wardwell seemed partially recovered from her shock, for she was very cheerful, talked about all the gossip that could possibly reach her, which was undoubtedly somewhat exaggerated. Alicia was always amused by the old lady's chatter, for she realized that she loved to talk and would think up any kind of story just for the sake of telling it. While Alicia and Mrs. Wardwell were talking together the bell rang, which probably meant the mail. Mr. Wardwell jumped up-as well as Mr. Wardwell could jump-and went to the door. He looked as if he were expecting something very important. But he returned with a disappointed look on his face, and Alicia asked him if anything was wrong. 4'Well, he said, you know, I was expecting a letter this morning from some one-I don't know what the name is unless four threes mean something. I suppose you saw the advertisement in the paper--you always read it so thoroughly,-from the woman who was bored with all the people around her. I felt sort of sorry for her, so I wrote to her, twice, telling about my traveling, most of which I have done only in my thoughts, or with you. She has written to me only once, and I am anxious to hear from her again. You know, I think l'll show you the letter, it's most amusing but very interesting. Would you like to see it?,' Alicia had been listening to this little speech with increasing wonder and incredulity. She couldn't tell him that she was probably the person who had been writing to him, that it was she for whom he felt sorry. Why, she had described him to a WT in the letter. He might have guessed who it was, even though she had not mentioned any names. How embarrassing! She didn't know what to say. So she sat with her mouth open, staring at Mr. Wardwell, wondering whether he coulfl be the correspondent of whom she had l1ad such high hopes, judging from his letters. Why, she reasoned, should he sign himself '6Aubrey ? Just a pseudonym, of course. Finally she got up, made the excuse that she too was expecting something in the mail, and left hurriedly. So lVIr. Wardwell, with the cane and the cough and the remarks on the pleasant day, was her correspondent! She walked down the flight of stairs and opened her door, still wondering how it could possibly be true. Oswald greeted her with a noise which more nearly resembled a laugh than his usual howl. MARY THACHER WTORTHEN. 45 AUTUMN Autumn has come at last with its bright days. All about perfumed smoke throws a blue haze Over the trees, which in scarlet and red, Orange and yellow, gleam over my head. Summer has gone to the Land of the Past, Fleeing on brown bare feet at Frost's cold blast. Soon Autumn, too, will go. Then, at the bier Of the dead seasons, King Winter will cheer. Winter's reign, Summer's, and Spring's again o'er, We'll greet fair Autumn with joy as before. ELISABETH GLEASON. THE WRITING LESSON The schoolroom was hot-too hot. The afternoon sun beat in through the open windows and cut the room in half. The air was insufferable, a pool of heat. Even the wide expanse of windows with their dingy rolls of brown curtain, fastened at the bottom, looked forlorn and naked. It seemed as if the glass would evaporate -melt away-to become part of the heavy foliage and green grass and make them look greener. Every window cord needed a starch bath. A dull tearing sound filled the room as twenty-nine little girls tried to pull their legs and limp skirts off twenty-nine sticky varnished seats. At the same time, each of fifteen little boys was amazed to find his shirt glued to the back of the chair. Miss Beldon called the class to attention, then sidled out of her own chair, wiping her glasses furiously to cover up her embarrassment. How uncom- fortably sticky it felt to have one's dress cling to onc's legs and spine. Hurry and change your seats, children, she heard herself saying. Miss Brand will be right in. You mustn't keep her waitingf' Flushed with heat, Miss Beldon stood before her flock, waving her hands excitedly as if to shove each one into his or her seat. Between motions she glanced at the door. The children really ought to be working in the writing pads when Miss Brand entered. Why didn't they move faster? At last! The seats were filled! Miss Beldon stood at thc door, trying to pretend she didn't see the glares and the red tongues that greeted the writing booklets as they were passed around. Those children were intolerable! And what a blessing that this class was the last! The others had been wretched. She pressed her fingers to her forehead. It ached furiously. When she turned to speak to the class, she saw Jimmy Clark whispering to the girl with curls who sat across from him. She wanted to spank Jimmy. He always misbehaved. That morning she had made him stand in front of the class with a wad of chewing gum plastered on his forehead. That was what happened to naughty boys who couldn't remember to throw their gum away before school. Miss Beldon flushed more than ever when she thought how little impressed Jimmy had been. Now, she would send him to the dressing room. She pointed to the door. Go in there, Jimmy. I will talk with you after schoolli' And to the rest of the class she said, Unless you behave when Miss Brand is here, you'll all have to stay after school. Oh, the heat was terrible. Still Miss Brand did not come. '6Well, children, spoke Miss Beldon trying to smile, we cannot wait any longer for Miss Brand. The whole class smiled, 46 several paper fans wagged back and forth contentedly, and in a far corner somebody banged on a ruler. But,,' continued Miss Beldon, G'I'll conduct the class myself. The smiles disappeared. Poor Miss Beldon felt overcome, and rubbed the dampness off her forehead with her handkerchief. Her throat ached with dryness. Mean- while the class proceeded. It made her tired to watch forty-four stubborn arms trace A's and B's and Cas down a paper. They all drew the letters behind her back, and wobbled their muscles as correctly as possible whenever she passed by. She could see that their arms stuck to the papers and the desk lids, and many of the children were sitting on books to keep their legs from sticking to the chairs. She wondered if Miss Brand would approve of the books, for they put their feet out of position. They should be flat on the floor. The room was very still except for the scratching of pens and the sound of breathing, which Miss Beldon felt would come to a climax any moment and stifle her. There was that fat boy in the baclc seat, wiping the sweat off his sleeve and replacing his wet sleeve on his paper. How sloppy he was! Somehow, too, she knew that Jimmy was peeking through the crack in the dressing room door. At last the class was over, and the stack of writing pads was restored to the top shelf. The children sat waiting to be dismissed. Every eye was on Miss Beldon. Every eye had a please in it. Would she let them go now? Miss Beldon looked around the room. Suddenly she didn't care whether she ever saw any of them again. She was terribly tired. Not even aware that she had forced a smile at her pupils, she heard herself say, You may all go. I won't keep you after all. Good-bye. What happened after she finished speaking? She was never quite sure. Only one thing was in her mind at the time. She felt that it was silly and very unnecessary to have said 'ggood-bye . But meanwhile the twenty-nine little girls and the fourteen little boys had iumped out of their sticky seats. They shrieked with joy like a pack of hoodlums and tossed their arms about in the hot air. All the feelings that had been locked up inside them rushed out and were forgotten as they capered madly about. How easily they forgot! Then someone shouted, Hey, curly locks, let's you and me go down to the drug store for some soda with ice in it, and maybe an Eskimo pie. Others wanted to come too, and cries of Hcan I come and 0oooo, ice-creamn whirled around the room. Like a tiny army advancing they rushed by Miss Beldon yelling 'agood-bye's . Feet pattered quickly down the hall. Quiet followed. The teacher dropped into her chair. She was much too tired to cry. Somehow she couldn't understand these children at all. Can I comen and ice- creamwl The words jumbled around in her head, and she spoke them softly without knowing it, ........ ice-cream ........ l l l The dressing-room door opened-paused-then shut with a bang. Feet ran down the hall, and there was a far-away '4Hey, wait for mef' The clock on the wall seemed to tick-tock The-cloak-room-is-empty-nowf' Ah, ice-cream! Miss Beldon tucked her purse neatly under her arm and walked out of the humid room. ' BETTY LOCKI-I. BLUE Behold! a symphony in blue- Mountains tower to touch a mass of blue. Blue water meets the edge of bluer wallsg Sunlight warms the tones to deeper shades. Evening slowly changes blues to black- Moonlight clasps and holds them thus till dawn. J EAN DOHERTY. 47 NEW YORK SUNSET I gazed intently down Upon a moving body of creatures. ln the west There was a panorama of gold and dusty red, Even the sunset seemed grimy here, Like an old brocade gown, Tattered and dirtyg But queerest of all were the spectators, The rich man with the stocks Still ticking on his mind, And the poorg wandering--wandering in search of food, The young, rushing madly from here to there, Crasping each second And cramming it full of artificial joys, Not caring or heeding the golden gloryg But the thick mist hung Heavily on the Hudson And I closed the window. SALLY SCOFIELD. DOG IN THE SNOW I scamper on billows, I whuffle at some things I sniff as the air Under the snow: Wafts me enticing Where do they come from? Scents from Nowhere. Where do they go? Tail up, nose twitching, I scamper away- Praise to the Powers That made this white day! ELISABETH GLEASON. ON READING MYSTERY STORIES IN BED Reading mystery stories in bed was thrilling to me just once. I had read far into the night A. Conan Doyle's 6'The Speckled Bandn. Even if the glow of my reading lamp did make things less fearful I was trembling with horror as I lay back to think over the story, which is still the worst of its kind to me. How I hated to turn out that light! The moment darkness replaced the light of my lamp the story became more vivid and real, as my imagination began to work. Familiar objects had melted away, but their outlines in the patched moonlight began to move rhyth- mically, threateningly, and the floor began to creak in accordance. Suddenly I was somewhere elseg I was in another room. My bed was screwed to the floor, there was the artificial bell-rope. I heard a low whistle. Why, I was in the room where the murder took place! Shivers ran up and down my spine and out to my finger- tips, but I could not move. I shut my eyes tightly. Suddenly I felt something wiry brush m cheek. It was damp and cold. It was the speckled band snake! I almost screamedi Then I heard a sound that dispelled all my fears. It was a loud purr. Oh kitty, I cried, as I opened my eyes in relief and felt the little cat next to 48 my shoulder, waving her tail triumphantly. She had climbed up the trellis to my window. I hugged the kitten tightly and was so thankful to her for having brought me back to reality. Before I went to sleep I vowed never to read another mystery story at bed-time. I never have. ELIZABETH ANDREWS. M PHILOSOPHY A hill. Below-the mistg I feel one other-fate. Above-the stars, and I But she may not trespassg Wondering, thinking, seeing. I am alone now with God. BETTY BEAN. CONSOLATION I'm just a lonely apple tree. No longer are my apples soldg Old age has bent and crippled me, My branches now a youngster hold- My fruit is sour. I've done my best, He comes to see me every day, But now they say I need a rest. And oh what fun we have at play! My limbs are masts, my leaves the sails, My trunk the deck, my branches rails. It makes me glad indeed to know I have a friend who loves me so. LORRAINE WALKER. Q LEAF HOUSES Autumn to us inevitably meant leaf houses. As soon as the leaves began to fall, we hunted for the rake in the garage and then really settled down to house building. Of course there was always some difficulty in finding the rake, because the gardener continually took it out and never put it back where it belonged, much to our con- sternation. For the longer it took to find the rake, the shorter the time for living in our houses. And then the arguments began. As soon as the rake was found, the question came up of who was to have it first. Then followed a long discussion, with the little squahbles that are common in the play of children aged four to ten. It 49 often went like this-L'Well, I donit see why I can't rake firstg I found it. '4Why, you did notg I didf, Every one joined in a chorus on this last exclamation, for of course each thought that he or she had found it and therefore was entitled to the first turn. And then when someone finally did get it first, he never wanted it more than half a minute. We usually decided that the boys would rake while the girls were collecting furniture and dolls. Then began the building of the houses. There had to be twog otherwise there couldn't be any telephoning or marketing. The process of building was slow and careful. It often happened that in our desire for large living--rooms and kitchens we didn't have enough leaves for the bed-rooms. That was a calamity that meant heavy thinking on our parts. We had to get the leaves either by making the living rooms and kitchens smaller or by making the house walls thinner. There were usually three or four bed-rooms, depending upon the number of people and dolls. If leaves were left over we had a great discussion as to whether we should have a front porch, a sleeping porch, or a back porch. A front porch was nice if guests came to call, for they could sit there to chat instead of going into the house. We also thought that a sleeping porch would keep the children healthy, but the back porch was ideal for the maids' evenings. I don't remember just how we finally decided that important question, but I suppose that we ended by having all three. When the houses were built, we stood around and surveyed our work of art very critically, looking for corners not exceptionally neat, or a window made imperfect by a single leaf in the middle of it. All these corrections came under the job of house cleaning, which job was carried out each time the wind blew a leaf from the wall. When the mothers were chosen and had their respective families in their homes, there followed a series of telephone calls and trips to market, some of which proved well worth while. I remember perfectly the raisin cookies that the cook used to give us. Once in a while, if we were very good, mother gave us a whole barrel of gingersnaps. And how piggish we were, tool Every one of us took great handfuls and stuffed the cookies in as fast as we could. When the barrel was empty we took turns using it as a decoration. lt would be next to impossible to count the 4'nights that we had within one hour. Some one would say, 'GI think it's about time we went to bed, don't you?', CAS a matter of fact I think that the nights in our leaf houses were the only ones when we really wanted to go to bcd.l The Hmothersw had one pet trick that worked for a while. They would tell the children that it was time for them to go lo sleep: then as soon as they were quiet, the mothers went for a walk which always ended in the kitchen, from which, if they were lucky, they would emerge triumphantly with a slice of chocolate cake which was always devoured before they came in sight of the houses. They then awoke the children, who remained none the wiser until a tell-tale smudge of chocolate on a nose gave away the secret. From that moment the children refused to go to bed until the mothers promised that they would eat no more cake. Every week brought a new leaf house, for the same one never lasted long. Even if we did have quarrels and arguments, we always had a wonderful time together. I look back longingly upon those years when we had such grand fun in the leaf houses, and wish that I might run up to the kitchen for a piece of chocolate cake while the children are sleeping in their beds of leaves. 5 MARY THACHER WORTHEN. 0 WINTER TRAGEDY Six round birds like fat brown beads Strung on a slim white frosty cord Talked together with hungry words, W'istfully watching their bits of bread Mouthed and gobbled by a thieving jay- That raucous dandy and well-bred bully Who swaggeringly rules in the winter wood. His feet made cuneiform marks in the snow Which was yet as clean as fresh new paper. That haughty bird, blue as lake-water, Barred with black and gray-tinged white, Proud as any Babylonian noble, Wrote his doom with his cold black feet, As he glutted his food in the face of his conquered. The sun, wintry-red, made dark purple shadows- Long cold shadows like gripping fingers- Fall from the crests of the snow-muffled firs Clothed with soft creamy soap-suds: And misty bubbles, rainbow sparkling, Rode on the rim of a miniature avalanche Scudding down the branches. A still white shadow, Nose to ground, slipped through the snow Reading as he came the cuneiform marks, And the brown birds swallowed their angry twittering And frozen with fear hugged the icy branch. The quick silent hunter saw his prey, And bending like a bow in a long arched leap, Landed fangs and claw in the jayis soft back, Silencing his shriek with a hungry snap Of keen-edged teeth. Then on noiseless feet, Making a deeper mark, now he was burdened, The weasel slipped off with his limp blue victim. The paling sun climbed higher, shining through a mist, And the shadows grew older, grayer, shorter. A spiral of smoke from a nearby chimney Rose through the day in a flame-colored pillar, And six brown birds, fluffy and round, Gazed at the tragedy written on the snow- At the tiny red spot of death. EDITH 51 CoNKuN A CHOICE John Smith ,Iunior sat down with a sigh And many a tear shed he. I can't write a theme for English, he groaned. Oh, what shall my subject be? Nature? No good, there's too much to know. Perhaps I can write about love. Oh, gosh, no, he moaned, for what would I say? What the stars can behold from above? Now that's an idea, could I use it? he cried, And worked himself into a stew. I could write about aeroplanes, farming, or sports, But I don't think those subjects would dof' He chewed on his pen and he tore at his hair, Poor Junior was in quite a fog. In sheer desperation he suddenl said, I'll write about Rover, my og! DISTANT SECRET LORRAINE WALKER. Far across the pale golden fields Waving in the spring breeze, contented- Far beyond the lazy, misty hills Lying in the sunshine unconcerned- On past the ancient ruins of a temple Sighing underneath the dreamy willows, Higher than the reaching of the skyscrapers, Deeper than the theories of Einstein, More compelling than the shouting of the world Far away, and into the hazy future, Lies a secret-no one knows. JANE HUNTINGTON. FALL Somehow the fall of the year intrigues me. I like nothing better than to take a long walk in the country on a hazy but sunny day. I always take my -Irish Setter puppy with me for company. We start briskly off through the woods, and walk along miles of country roads with the scuffle of dead leaves under our feet. Here we come upon a brilliant red tree, and then we come to one that is all orange. Then we come upon one that is green at the bottom, shading from red and orange to yellow at the top, and, with the sun shining on it, it really doesn't look like anything that belongs to this earth. I sit awhile as the sun goes down behind the far-off purple hills and watch the sun on this tree. First the sun was all on the tree and then gradually it rises to the top, leaving the bottom in cool green and the top in brilliant gold. After the sun leaves, everything is completely changed. The air has a cooler, 52 fresher smell. The trees aren't quite as vivid, and they don't stand out so much. The small scrubby trees blend in -together, and look like a huge tapestry worked in colors of dull red, orange, yellow, and brown. Then behind a big dark fir tree my Irish Setter sees a squirrel and dashes off to chase it, leaving a cloud of dead leaves behind her. Then we come upon a quiet pond, and all around the water's edge the scrubby bushes are reflected in the dark blue of the water. As we walk along near a farmer's house the air seems laden with the heavy, rich smell of grapes on the vines. Then, as we start home, we look down at the millions of city lights reflecting on us and giving us a homey feeling. Then I take my pup for a walk again before I go to bed. The sky is a clear, cold blue. The stars twinkle down at us from above. and the moon shines brightly. The grass is all cool and wet, and from our backyard grape vines the sweet smell of ripened grapes again fills the air. And we go to bed with the feeling that tomorrow will be another nice day in which we can walk and walk all day until night settles down again, leaving everything cool and fresh. SEA WINDS EL1Non GREGORY. I stand upon a rocky hill with the angry sea below, I see its restless waters pushing whitecaps on its brow, But more I feel the wild sea winds that toss the helpless ships And roughly play with the great green sea and blow its spray to my lips. I smell the brine that the winds blow in and I taste the salt from the spray, Oh, the wind is rough and strong and cold and chases blue sky away. But I care not if the wind blows hard, I do not mind its chills, For I'm revived and clean and new and as tall as all the hills. ALICE ROWLEY. B A L L A D Sir Percival rode through the darkest night Oh, Anne, Anne, which do you choose Lovely Anne for to see. Both are brave knights and gallant, But Donald, the brave, came galloping too Each of them comes with a heart so true And his horse flew over the lea. And each of them is valiant. And Anne she sat on the parapet On they came to the castle gales, And watched for her true love coming, And there they fought a duel, And what did she see but two brave knights But Fate has always been unkind, Each with their colors flying. And this time she was cruel. Anne, Good Anne came down the stairs And took one look at her lovers, Alas, alack, they both were dead, And now the sod them covers. JANE O'CoNNoR. 53 W. NOVEMBER IN THE WOODS Alone, I loved the woods that afternoon. l'm glad-glad it was Sunday. The stillness there Snatched my breath away--and then my heart- 1 think it nearly stopped beating to catch the sound Of crinkled-leaved stalks, dry, piping a tone Like Christmas tinsel shaken in a bowl. What a merry fellow the river was, winding along And shining because he liked the dark silhouettes That played on his mirror. But way down deep inside Where his thoughts keep house on the river bottom, he cried. The blue-jay, admiring himself in the water, flew Away to a green bough. He heard some one crying, too. I think he knew how badly the river felt- For who wants to be chained to a bank all winter long? There was a little squirrel there-alone, Sitting in a bush-crotch. He saw the jay Fly from the river to shriek aloud in the pines, And he sighed to hear the river's dwindling tears, But he wisely sat, pawing and nibbling a nut- Coutent in the dim sunlight between the trees. I went to a wedding that autumn afternoon And found the bank-staves wearing moss festoons. The brides were the leaves that floated the windy stairs Down to the glassy castle where the lover lay. The river, the rogue, wed fifty times fifty maids That day. To each he gave a kiss and a ring For her very own. I wanted something, too, Why does the river always give rings away? THE LOST PRINCESS BETTY Locxs. Any custom is interesting when you trace the origin, learning the why and where- fore. Many you find to be amusing, but few have such romantic appeal as the following German custom. In the city of Stuttgart, from the tower of the ancient Gothic church, at noon- lhree times a week, one hears the music of trumpets. Walking in the narrow streets which surround the old church, the music is faint, far away-high above the bustle of the market-place. As you look upward at the square tower with its candle snuffer steeple, you see three men, standing on the balcony with long theatrical trumpets, playing first to the east, then to the south, then west, then north. It is a simple air they play, repeated those four times, but not without dignity or sweetness. A charming custom-how did it originate? Once upon a time, long, long ago, there lived in the great castle of Stuttgart, a little princess. One day she strayed into the dense forest, which surrounded the castle, and became lost. They never found her-but to this day, from the tower of the old church, they still play the trumpets to call her home. ' GRACE Momus. 54 WOULDN,T YOU ? I tiptoed down the hall and I tiptoed down the stairs And I tiptoed through the door to greet the morningg And how fresh and sweet she stood With the blue sky as her hood And the flowers and birds her head and feet adorning. I heard her whisper through the leaves, through the dew upon the grass, Through the golden sun that lighted up her face, Today I've dressed for you, And my dress is washed and new, And the shadows from the trees make lovely lace. Oh, she made me bare my feet and romp upon the grass, The grass so filled with silver drops of dcwg How I leaped and flew around Like the merry satyrs' bound, And my heart sang out for joy and larger grew. Yes, I tiptoed through the door and greeted morning, And I took her by the hand and danced away With my heart brimful of music Flowing, babbling like a brooklet And my soul as glad and carefree as the day. ALICE Rowmsr. CHRYSANTHEMUM The Western sky is the ragged head A maiden ship with silver crown Of a gypsy chrysanthemum. tawny red. Of taut-stretched sails comes cutting down. And the steady line of bronze-lit seas, The cream-crested waves leap from her F lecked with tarnished traceries prow Of fading light And daintily she seems to bow Melts in the night. To the admiring gaze Of the age-old waves. High in the Norlh that delicate shell- The new-born moon, tosses on the swell Of a warm, soft sea of sunset glow Whose smooth gold billows flecked with snow Will illumine the skies. When the chrysanthemum dies. - ED1'rH CONKLIN. 55 Ju IO ,. LITERATUIU THE FRESH FISH junior Prize Story My grandmother and grandfather were going up the Chao river from Nankingr to Luchowfu, a eity in Central Asia, in a househoat with a friend named Mr. Chen. They had to take their own lierlding and food, but they eould huy il teapotful of tea. The boat wouldn't run at night lmeeause of bandits on the river. The boat stopped over- night in a small town on the way and my gl'ilIldlllOlllt'l' went to a restaurant to get something to eat. They were the first foreigners that had been there in a long time, so everyone followed them. When they eatne to the restaurant. lVlr. Chen asked n1y grandmother it hat she wanted. She said she would have some fish if it were fresh. So she told the landlord to lme sure it was fresh. He was gone a long time, and when he returned he put a towel on the table and opened it. There was a live fresh fish. The land- lord said, 'gllim very fresh. and took it away. When he fame lmaeli. he lirougrht the fish very nieely fried, lnut my grandmother eonlfl not eat it. JEAN Pxtn, lGl'Llll6 IN P. f ti, 'D FLOWERS furzior Prize Poem My pretty little copper vase, The sweet china bunny with two pink eyes, Standing on the tahle ls seratehingr his head nearlmy. Hy :ny lnetlsiale. The dogrwood is gay. It lives on a spray. The one tulipis maroon, And it hlossoms at noon. The roses are mellowf A gleaming soft yellow. Uh. my flowers are so beautiful Wihen the sunlight shines upon theml GAY lNTI'l'CHl'1I.L fCrade IIU. 56 BIOGRAPHY OF OUR DOG, RENNY Junior Contest-Prize Essay On the third of August, at Renbrook Farm, a little dog was born to Queen', and Perk. She had seven litle brothers and three little sisters. Unfortunately the bandsomest brother died shortly after birth. The rest of the family thrived as would be expected with such fine parents. You see the father was strong and sturdy, gflhile the mother had been given the prize for the best dog in the New York Dog ow. After a while the little dogs opened their eyes to find themselves in very pleasant surroundings. To be sure, they didn't understand why the veterinary cut their beautiful tails off, but in the happy days that followed that was soon forgotten. Their mother taught them to eat without putting their paws in the dish, to wag their tails in appreciation of favors, and to be well-mannered dogs generally. Life went smoothly for several weeks, but all good things have to come to an end. One sad day the family was broken up. Some people arrived in a shiny car to take this particular little dog to her new home. She was very much frightened at the trip and didnlt at first understand that she had been named '4Renny . After a lonesome day or -two she made friends with the three children in her new home. Three years have gone by and today you will find her a very important member of the Chase family. MARCIA CHASE fCrade VIIIJ. Q BEAUTY IN A FLEECY FLOCK OF SHEEP Junior Poetry Contest-Second Place The gnarled old trees by the stately way, I wonder if the shepherd, The hoof-beaten road of the sheep- In care of the fleecy flock, Over the road at morning or night, Knows of the beauty around him, Is the sound of bleating sheep. 'Tis the hour to bring in the flock. Now the sheep have passed along, Toward the farmhouse on the hill, A rabbit crosses the road- A rustle, then all is still. HOLLY STEVENS fGrade VD. A PENCIL Junior Essay Contest-Second Place How different my blue pencil looks now from the long shiny one that I brought to school a month ago. Then it was a pretty blue with my name on it in gold letters. It boasted an unused eraser. Now it boasts nothing and is really ashamed to be seen. The emaciated three inches that it is now is not graced with a point. There is no more gold in the letters and you can not see them anyway because there are so many teeth marks. No eraser burdens it now. In fact if I didn't tell you, you wouldn't know that this is an eraser holder. I don't dare sharpen it for fear it would be too short. Yet it does seem more of a friend than the shiny new blue pencil. I FRANCES DWYER fGrade VID. 57 WIND funior Poetry Contest-Third Place Oh, wind, why do you go screaming Oh, wind, what is it that makes you through the barren trees, freeze Harden all the cold grey sky, The marrow in our very bones, Why is it you cannot be at ease, Why is it you will not please This Festive time? Us human folks? Oh, wind, why is it you will not watch Oh, wind, what is it that makes us awed The streak of gold against the hills, At your great strength, Why is it you cannot stop What is it we would not give This bitter cold? For power such as yours? Oh, wind, what is it you cannot do, You cannot make afraid, Who is it that does not cringe At your sad call? Q MY FIRST SIGHT OF A WHIP-POOR-WILL junior Essay Contest-Third Place SALLY HART tGrude VJ. Twilight, a strange hush, the world was falling asleep. From a nearby thicket I heard the low mournful notes of a whip-poor-will. An answering call, clear but distant, Whip-poor-will, whi -poor-will , came from afar. I cautiously approached the spot where I had heard, the bird. I spied him at last sitting among some dead leaves. On examining him closely I found that he was exceedingly beautiful. His back was a dusty brown with black streaks and his breast buff with gray and black. He was hardly visible, his soft colors toning with the leaves and the surrounding background. The silky feathers of his exquisite body were fading away as darkness came on. Only I, sitting beneath a gnarled maple tree, seemed to be listening to the enchanting melody ringing through the cool evening air. JACQUELINE BALLARD fGrade VIIJ. A PHEASANT A rustle in the leaves. I crouch back as a victorious pheasant sails out and to the ground. He stalks about stiffly and proudly as though he had just done some honor. He is a sort of greenish color with white and flaming recfstreaks in his feathers. I can almost feel him. He is so soft I could smooth him like a dog. His head held up in the air makes him look still more honorable. He stalks around for about five minutes and then soars away. I get up and am about to walk away when right before me I see the mother pheasant with thirteen baby pheasants in her nest. So maybe I don't blame him after all for being proud. NANCY BEAN fGrade VIIJ. 58 THE MUUNTAINEER The sun was setting in the mountains of Tennessee as an old man came around the corner of the hill, and stood in sight of his ramshackle old cabin, which was surrounded by pine trees high up in the beloved mountains. The old man carried a small squirrel gun in his hand. Two hounds with drooping ears and tails followed him. The man was aged and bent, his face, covered with a white beard, was deeply wrinkled. Tobacco juice stained the corners of his mouth. He seemed tircd and weary as he ambled slowly along. He entered the cabin that had been his home for so many years. He crossed the uneven floor and sank into a chair with a weary sigh. His mangy old hounds lay down by their master. All were in repose, as the wind whispered softly through the pine trees. At length the old man stirred and hobbled slowly over to his violin which hung on the wall. Lovingly he lifted it from its place, and gently he let his fingers roam over the treasured strings. The violin sang its songs of days gone by. It told of a young boy who laughed and played at his mother's cabin door. Again he could see the stream which tumbled merrily beside the old cabin. Here as a boy his spirit had been as light as that of the stream on whose banks he had sat, listening to the songs of birds about him. Slowly the tune changed to the ballads of the hills, telling of love, and death. Finally the song of the violin became slow. lt told of an old man, alone in his dreary shack among the mountains. The playing of the beloved instrume t ceased. The day was passing away, and a peaceful quiet stole over the lofty morlintuins as day passed into a calm undisturbed night. Q RAINING Donornr SHAW fGrade VIIJ. ln the rhythm of the rain The trees are swaying And the wind is blowing. The clouds are getting grayer now As faster they are going. A LITTLE BOY CAROLINE PAGE iGrade VJ. Little Boy wasnlt his real name, but be was so small that was what people called him. One day he was walking along in the woods, when he became tired and sat down to rest. The birds sang so sweetly, the bees hummed so loudly, and the trees rustled so softly that in a short while he was sound asleep. He had a dream. He dreamed that he was walking in the green fields and that he saw brooks and pretty flowers and the cool windy forest. Then he woke up. My dream was very nice and truef' he said. MARY MEAD QGradc IVJ. 59 THE STORM It was a comparatively warm gray day. The sky promised a storm. Suddenly, towards four o'clock, a gust of wind rose into a high northerly gale. The clouds spit forth many small flakes of snow so hard and cold one would be forced to think it was hailing. It increased so rapidly one could not see five feet ahead of himself. The next day was begun on a white world. Gusts of wind were drifting the piling snow. The sky was a purplish grey. Even the sturdy chickadees were blown from their perches on the barren trees and presently huddled together on a protective evergreen. The wind howled, merciless in its determination. A shrike, cold and hungry, made a vain attempt to satisfy his hunger. Swooping down upon the unfortunate chickadees, he succeeded in only driving them from their shelter. The blizzard roared its wrath. The clouds of snow rose and then lay still. A faint pink shown from the bed of the golden sun. Q SALLY HART tGrade VJ. SNOWFLAKES SOAP BUBBLES Snowflakes, snowflakes Soap Bubbles yellow and green Large and small, Oh, what a colorful scene, How I like to watch you fall. Bubbling up and down As you come down one after another Never seem to touch the ground. I should think you would almost smother. When you come down so very light, I think you try to be polite. ELEANOR MYERS fGrade Illy. Q HOW TO FISH Fishing may take place in deep or shallow, sea-weedy or clear water. You may sit for hours in a boat or on a dock, or, if you are ambitious, you may don your best boots and ford a stream. You should first dig for worms and you will usually find theni in the last place you dig. Fat ones are advisable, for they are easier to bait with. When you have taken your seat on the boat or dock, prepare yourself for a long wait. After casting your line you may go to sleep, or just keep busy discharg- ing bothersome advisers. When you get a nibble, if you are not so discouraged that you have fallen asleep, don't be too hasty in pulling in your line, for the fish is likely to escape before the dainty hook is securely caught in his little throat. Well, when you pull him in, be careful not to swish your pole too excitedly, for the fish might swing and hit you in the face, which is a most disgusting thing, and is likely to give you such a shock that you will give up fishing the rest of your days. To take the fish off, if you can capture the line just above it, shut your eyes and grab the slimy, flapping body and pull. A brother is a very useful utensil in this part of the adventure. lf you do not catch a fish, don't be discouraged. Your time will come! HELEN RAREY fGrade VIIIJ. 60 GETTING READY MOther's having company, Sis will have to comb my hair, Oh! What a bore! I have to wash my knees, I have to look so very nice How I dread when I want a cake It just makes me sore! To say just, Please, please, please. I have to shake hands, I have to make a bow, I have to say, 4'How do you do? To all the ladies now. LONNY MYERS lGrade VID . C2293 STREET LIGHTS Street lights are sparkling, sparkling bright, They shine like stars, On'a dark cold night, As brave as Orion through the storms they stand, Each one like a light-house pulled up on the land. CANOEING BY MOONLIGHT LONNY MYERS fGrade VD. The quiet was interrupted now and then by the slow stroke of a paddle. The silver lake was smooth as glass, but around the slowly gliding canoe, ripples ran out making a circle in which the bright moonlight danced. A lonely silhouette of a young girl in a canoe was sliding along through the silver paths Of moonlight into the dark shadow. Then all was silent. The moonlit lake lay undisturbed. JOAN STEANE CGrade VIIJ. RAIN IN WINTER Country roads are flooded, Sky is growing brighter, Clouds are blowing fast, Trees are bare and wet, Rain pours down upon us, Storm is calm and lull, Will it ever pass? All's quiet! the sun has set. DOROTHY CASE fGrade VJ. 61 NEED FOR COURAGE I was exceedingly afraid of dogs until at last I had an experience which helped me to understand them better. I will tell you about it. One day I was going for a walk in the woods and was picking violets for Mother, when I heard a rustle behind me. I turned quickly to see a large collie. I imme- diately started to run, which of course I shouldn't have done because naturally the dog thought I was playing. I was very frightened and ran through thorn and briar bush, but he kept on chasing me. R-r-r-r-i-p, there I was stuck fast to a bramble bush. I was just about paralyzed with fear when he reached me. I held my breath expecting to he chewed to pieces any minute, but to my surprise he stuck out his tonge and licked me. He then took my dress where I was caught and got it loose. He walked home with me and I thanked him. He seemed to understand, for he shook his head as if to say, Don't mention itf, Ever since I have never run away from or been afraid of a dog. PATRICIA COLE fGrade VIJ. 4699 SNOWFLAKES Snowflakes flying through the air, Snowflakes going everywhere, Snowflakes on the roofs so bright, Snowflakes still flying in the night. B1-:Tsar JONES lGrade IIIJ. THE HARVEST The moon hangs low on the golden harvest, The corn sways to and fro, The pumpkins are growing on glossy vines, All gleaming in the silver dew. The mountains with their purple color, Stand back to back all in a row, They seem to see and guard and watch, The great field spread below. Jor FOSTER QCrade VD . 62 S Qi -.-3' OXFORD SCHOOL ASSOCIATION The officers for IQISIS--l are: Mary Ecldy'fPresif1e1zl Barbara Johnstonif'z'ce-President .loan Sullivan- -Secrelrzry Ellen I'Iooper-Treasurer Adalvn Purdy-Auditor Tl 'N ' r the student government continued under the honor system. Shortly ns yea after Christmas a few changes were made in the connnun:cation rules. The dress requirements were put in the hands of Miss Guernsey and the faculty, and no report slips were given in connection with the dress rules. ' ' - ' ' ' ' ere frlwle to frive more money than pledged We felt very glad that this year we w . F to charity through the Connnunity Chest. It was voted to give 33180. We have already begun to think about next yearis officers and although no nominations have been made at this date lCl1al is soon going to press! we are confident that the new members will faithfully carry on the work of the Oxford School Association. JOAN SULLIVAN. Secretary. TI-IE JUNIOR O. S. A. This year the Junior O. S. A. invited the seventh grade to heroine nienibers and gave a luncheon to greet thenl as was done last year. The officers for this year are: Gene Hoxie-Presidenl Ann WyperfVice-President I'cggy Kirk-Secretary Helen Rarey-Treasurer At our first meeting we had a discussion on how to co-operate with the Senior ' ' ' '- ' l l k U. S. A. and it was finally decided to have a chairman in eath grade to ie p eep der when the teacher was out of the room. or , ... Wle gave twenty dollars to the Community Chest and were sorry that we were unalmle to give more. PEGGY KIRK, Secretary 63 I SENIOR BOOK CLUB The G. M. B. Club has met the fourth Monday of every month since October throughout the past year. The officers are: Jean Doherty-President Barbara Costello-Vice-President Lucy Waterman-Treasurer Anne Hatheway-Secretary Doris Frank-Chairman Entertainment Committee Leonice Merrels-Chairman Tea Committee Although we have not accomplished anything definite, we have had lots of fun writing poetry and giving extemporaneous speeches. The most outstanding meeting of the year was Mrs. Bentinck's lecture. This year Mrs. Bentinck introduced us to Katherine Mansfield. Tea has been served every other meeting. We all wish to thank Miss Evans for her unfailing interest which has guided the G. M. B. Club through its too short existence. ANNE HATHEWAY, Secretary. 64 JUNIOR BOOK CLUB The first meeting of the R. F. Club was held early in November under the guidance of Anne Burr, president. That meeting we had tea which was arranged by Sally Scofield, the chairman of the tea committee. Our entertainment has been attended to by Sally Rice, chairman of entertainment, and her committee. We have done charades, written tongue twisting tales from a list of words, and have even arrayed ourselves as titles of books. Phoebe Wodehouse, treasurer, has kept our finances straight. Shortly after the middle of the year, our president, Anne Burr, was forced to leave school owing to ill health. Though we miss her, Mary Pierce, vice-president, has ably filled her place. An outstanding event was the memorable junior-senior book club meeting when we heard Mrs. Bentinck talk about Katherine Mansfield. On the whole, Book Club has been successful and fun and we wish to thank Miss Evans for her interest and guidance. BARBARA BRIDGEMAN, Secretary. 65 LE SALON FRANCAIS Cette annee nous avons accueilli parmi nos membres, Helen Waterman, Mary Eddy, Barbara Johnston, Betty Ballard, Margaret Dewing, Mabel Cheney, Elinor Gregory, et Anne Hatheway. Nos officiers ont ere: Effie Gilbertson-President Nancy Poeller-Secreiaire Doris Frank-Tresowfere Ses cotisations ont ere reduites de moitie et chacune a paye vingt-cinq sous seulement. Nous avons decide de payer un sou pour chaque mot d'Anglais parle dans le salon. Aussi avons nous decide d'avoir un the simple chaque reunion et un grand the chaque trimestre. Mademoiselle Cohendet a present plusiers pieces avec beaucoup de succes. Scenes du Bourgois Gentilhomme, et de L'Avare, des Temmes Savantes par Moliere, aussi Le Savetier et le Financier, et la Laitiere et le Fot au Iait par La Fontaine. Tous les membres du Salon Francais veulent remercier Mlle. Cohendet, Miss Newell, et Mlle. Gillard pour leur assistance dans e Salon Francais. NANCY POELLER, Secfretatilrc. 66 ART This year the Art Department has been a busy one. The art credit class started out with drawing heads and figures in preparation for oil painting. It progressed to painting still life, and is now painting portraits. For outside work it did sketching and modelling. The grades have been learning some of the fundamentals of water colors, while the Special Art Classes have been sketching and modelling. All this has been taking place under the direction of Miss Gay, whom we are glad to welcome back after a year of absence, and Miss Whitmore, who is a graduate of the Cambridge School of Architecture, and who had classes under Miss Gay there. To these two we wish to express our gratitude for their patience and help. Bl-:TTY BEAN. 67 THE OXFORD MUSIC CLUB The Music Club resumed its meetings in November again this year, and the following elections were made for the year 1933-34: Mary Worthen-President Alice Rowley-Vice-President Polly Frisbie-Secretary ,lean Doherty-Treasurer Elizabeth Worthen-Chairman Entertainment Committee However, the last office is now held by Elinor Gregory, who was elected after the resignation of Elizabeth Worthen had been accepted. The programs this year have been most interesting. Amusing, instructive and very different subjects have been studied. Girls have talked on symphonies, old and modern composers, and as always we have heard selections of all sorts played on strings and piano. One of the things we are working on now is the recognition of some of the well-known classics. At the end of each program one or two selec- tions are played and at our last meeting we are to have, I believe, a test which will prove how much we have learned by ear. Ever since the club was organized the question of membership has been dis- cussed. Till now only those girls studying in the music department have been eligible, but it was felt that there was a group of girls in the school who didn't study but at the same time were interested in music in one way or another. And so it was decided that they should have the privilege of belonging to the organization if they wished. Six new members have just been elected in this way, and we hope as time goes on the club may have an even greater membership who will help create more and more interest in music throughout the school. POLLY FRISBIE, Secretary. 68 MUSIC DEPARTMENT T ..V, The music department of the school has had one of the most successful years ever. Much more interest has been shown and the club meetings have been well attended. The Christmas Play was written by one of the faculty and was well accepted by the public. One of the songs was so successful that it was decided to include it on our spring program. School words were written by P. Frisbie and the Clee Club con- cluded its selection of numbers with this song. The concert given with West- minster at the Town and Country Club was enjoyed by all-music as well as dancing. Music assemblies have been held periodically at which either members of the faculty, alumnae, or students have played. We were unusually fortunate this year in hearing the Memnon Quartet, the first string quartet, l believe, which has played at Oxford. Judging from the applause given, we hope they will be with us again next year. There are still a few events scheduled for the next few months. During May there will be various student musicales, and on Friday evening, May eleventh, the seniors will have their recital and will be assisted by the String Ensemble under the direction of Mr. Krane. POLLY F Rrsans. 69 THE SONG OF THE STAR -Vs. , ,. v,,,.v,5 THE PAINT AND PUTTY CLUB The officers of the Paint and Putty Club for the year 1933-34 arc: Carolyn E. Locke-President Barbara Costello-Secretary Lorraine Walker-Treasurer Margaret Dewing-Business Manager Leonice Merrels-Wardrobe Mistress The Song of the Star was the Christmas Pageant presented by the dramatic classes of the High School. lt was written by Miss Weaver and was so successful that it is being published for future use in schools. The progeecls, which were extremely large, will be given to charity. The thirteen new members taken into the club this year were: Jane O'Connor, June Cutler, Pegg Wodehouse, Betsy Hooper, Marion Leavitt, Mildred Barry, Edith House, Margery Scott, Hope Silleck, Betty McCain, Jane Huntington, Betty Boucher, and Betty Bean. The new members were welcomed into the club by a tea, and at the following meeting the tryouts began for the Spring Play, 4'The Fan , by Goldoni. The cast is as follows: The Count of Rocca Marina, .... . The Baron Del Cedro, ..... The Signer Evaristo, ....... Coronato, .......... . Crespino, ......... . Moraecio, .......... . Timoteo, ............ . The Signora Celtrude,. . . The Signorina Candida, .... ' Giannina, . ........... . Susanna, . . . Limoncino, . . Tognino, .... Scavezzo, ........... . . . . . . .Ellen Hooper . . .lane 0'Connor . .... Lorraine Walker . . . Virginia Tuttle . . . .Betty Boucher . . . .Betty McCain Peggy Wodehouse . . . . . . .Sally Rice . . . .Sally Scofield . .Barbara Costello . . . .Margery Scott . . . .Connie Laird . .Dotha Seaverns . . . ...... . . . .Marion Leavitt The Paint and Putty Club wishes to extend its sincere appreciation for the co-operation shown by the entire school in its interest in the club and its undertakings BARBARA COSTELLO, Secretary OXFORD ATHLETIC ASSOCIATION Before we begin on this year's program, there are some records from last year to he cleared up. On May first at recess the third grade through the high school had dances, and in the afternoon the third and fourth grades had a field day. In the seventh and eighth grades the Grays won the baseball fscore 13-31. The varsity team was as follows: L. Carey V. Little J. O'Connor M. Davis Ela. Mitchell M. Scott E. House Eli. Mitchell E. Turner P. Kirk A. Wyper T he Gray baseball team in the high school was also victorious with the score of 26-12. The varsity team include: Suas: N. Brayton P. Pease B. Ballard F. Rankin A. Rice P. Glacier A. Purdy B. Costello S. Ballard L. Walker J. Kingsbury M. Murtha M. Critchfield J. Russell The Greek Games were held on May twenty-seventh, dedicated to Pluto. The Grays won with the score of 50 1-3 to the Orange 49 2-3 for the first time in four years. The junior tennis tournament was won by L. Carey, and M. Parker was the runner-up. The senior tennis tournament was won by A. Rice of the Gray s, and B. Costello of the Orange was runner-up. At commencement the Gray team was awarded the banner for the fourth con- secutive year. This year the first meeting was called to order on September 28 by the president, Polly Frisbie. Leonice Merrels was elected secretary-treasurer, P. Frisbie and B. Boucher were elected cheerleaders for the Orange team, and B. Locke and K. Gadd for the Gray. Early in October captains were chosen throughout the school. Ellen Hooper is captain of the Orange team and ,loan Sullivan is captain of the Gray, in the High School. CLASS : ORANGE : GRAY: Senior L. Walker B. Costello B. Johnston Junior J. Kingsbury P. Glacier S. Rice Sophomore B. McCain C. Laird J. Huntington Freshman E. Fenn J. Cutler J. O'Connor Eighth M. Chase J. Hoxie P. Kirk Seventh E. Myers E. Slimmon S. Skinner Sixth C. Myers E. Worthen P. Dimock Fifth B. Bissell Pa. Allen B. Day The Athletic Association gave 350 to the Community Chest this year. The school team beat the alumnae hockey team 6-2 in the first game of the year. The seventh grade won the hockey game in the grades. The 'varsity team includes: A. Wyper SUBS: M. Chase M. Parker M. Davis K. Mitchell J. Steane P. Peard F. Dwyer R. Page S. Skinner E. Myers D. Shaw The final Orange-Gray hockey game was a tie 3-3: the varsity team is: Fmsrz SECOND: J. Doherty A. Purdy J. O,Connor S. Skinner P. Frisbie D. Frank B. McCain B. Ballard J. Sullivan M. Cheney M. Dewing J. Kingsbury B. Costello S. Scofield S. Ballard E. Cheney L. Merrels V. Little B. Johnston This is the second year the present senior class has been undefeated in hockey, so it challenged the rest of the school to a game. It emerged victorious with the score 6-2. The final Orange and Gray soccer game was also a tie. The 'varsity is: Fmsr: SECOND: M. Dewing A. Purdy P. Frisbie D. Frank L. Merrels L. Carey E. Cheney B. Costello J. Sullivan B. Ballard P. Glacier B. Johnston L. Walker M. Eddy J. Doherty N. Poeller J. Kingsbury A. Rowley E. Conklin The basketball for the high school and the volley ball for the grades are yet unfinished due to unexpected blizzards. March 2 the second, third, and fourth grades had their demonstration, in the gym, which included rhythms, games, and dances. It was called the Toy Shop . March 8 the fifth, sixth, seventh, and eighth grades had their demonstration at the Y. W. C. A. It included tumbling, games, and dances. We are looking forward to the High School's demonstration on the sixteenth. This year the Greek Games have been dedicated to Pan. There have been a few changes made and the procession is no longer competitive. B. Locke wrote the winning story, and D. Frank the hymn, dances have not yet been decided upon. LEONICE MERRELS, Secretary. 73 STUDENT LEADERS Uxford for the past few years has been trying to organize a group of Student Leaders. These girls assume the responsibilities of assistants to the department of Physical Education by taking charge of the gym classes when asked to, refereeing, scoring and timing of games. Also the recording of technique at recess is in their hands. A luncheon was given at the end of May last year to discuss further plans for this organization. The following girls have held Student Leader positions for the year 1933-34.: Joan Sullivan Jane Kingsbury Mabel Cheney Mary Eddy Barbara Johnston Polly Frisbie Adalyn Purdy, Elizabeth Worthell, and Miggie Dewing have been taken on during the course of the year. We feel now that a beginning has been made and many opportunities are ahead. Regular meetings have been held on Mondays throughout the spring months. There was great excitement when the Physical Education Department presented whistles to each and every one of us. After much debate our white blazers were ordered and upon their arrival we descended to study hall from the third floor feeling unusually conspicuous. Since then we have been saving them to wear at the three demonstrations. P. Fmsms, President 0. A. A. 74 FIRST Doris Frank Lorraine Walker Ellen Hooper Mary Eddy Ellen Hooper Barbara Bridgman Jean Doherty Betty Bean Betty Ballard Mary Eddy Sally Skinner STATISTICS SECOND Best Student Effie Gilbertson Best Athlete Adayln Purdy Best Actress Geraldine Foley Most Poised Nancy Poeller Best Bluffer Betty Boucher Best Sport Edith House Best-Natured Barbara Bridgman Most Artistic Jane Huntington Most Individual Carolyn Locke Most Versatile Carolyn Locke Most Attractive Leonice Merrels '75 THIRD Josephine Knox Igolly Frisbie Carolyn Locke Effie Gilbertson Mabel Cheney ,lean Doherty Elizabeth Beach Jane O'Connor Alice Rowley Nancy Poeller Dotha Seavern Jane O'Connor Mary Eddy Jane O'Connor FIRST Carolyn Locke .lean Reynolds Alice Rowley Doris Frank Ellen Hooper Mary Eddy Ellen Hooper Mary Worthen Polly Frisbie Betty Bean STATISTICS SECOND Most Enthusiastic Ellen Hooper M ost T alkative Ellen Hooper Most Modest Adalyn Purdy Wittiest Betty Boucher Most Musical Alice Rowley Most Popular Leonice Merrels Busiest Carolyn Locke Most School Spirit Mary Eddy Most Likely to Become Famous Carolyn Locke M ost Essential to School Life Mary Eddy 76 THIRD Polly Frisbie Leonice Merrels Jean Doherty Betty Bean Mary Wonhen Betty Bean Betty Boucher Effie Gilbertson Carolyn Locke Mary Eddy Qflufocgmpbf Qflutacgwzph ADVERTISEMENTS A .n I JM I . -4 -. I . r .I-qw, ' . '-'1r'P ' ' ,N . 4 ' -. .z Q. -W-. i A Ig I ofa 1 1 ,. , ,1-. I , I a f ' E f V W . 1 I P .Ls I 11. . U .ix ' I ' .'- '-A,-34 mgmf ' Cv ,f'.' .,-,s-N' if .J , I V I -1i.','. 15,4 , 1. .LI 4 L- '1 ' 1' j-- ' -1 , W' ' f- 1 Y , 1 ,,a4-QF.-k?'A5:iis'q5:' LA. ' -1 ' Nl 'i:lt'Tj '!' l' I 1 F ' K 1 .' . y . fi .wg--,i v 5. 453 , 1 4 . . . ll fg'.ff.Y71 - :. 5 fx- 4r.13j'6ni-M 1- P , - , 4 Q -1.M,, M H f 'ff-1. ,V-f.,.1'.r1i . im. f . 4,-1,:'-4,12 1, ' .4 - 'IA N 3 , k 1 ge ,- , W v V . A U 1 I Lgr-PS A t ir.. . .. .. N 1. In . 'wt hz- I .. 'vlf :'I3?,'l4w3 F 4' 1' H l lr P --9. ,- A 1' f my, .:' - 1 ,P . .Jw . I . A :H ,I M7 . 1 - . I X . . ' r ,,,4 g. P .. iv.. .v ,, 1 g ' uf 1 1 1 ' .w :I . y.vi'?'. . U..p -u 4, , F . .314 ,.? , 1 . :LIE if Y, ' 'lui 4.-.311 -- I xx 'f' ' ' .,..-:' ' 1 .x H-ff ,4o 1' LX- : ,- W- g r . I . -y - .. , , wi -. K ' -1 . +I. ? . V., --4 '. a' w ' A 'ff Waf I-.qAg'QvAn ff: 1 l.:l 1 V. Af. 1. .. . '5f7'Nf '.- sf I 5,8 , .gli -l,t I. E't1l.:Mq, gzwx 'V- fyfgiixzspzu . ., , . V -L-1 ,few 4. . . ,AJS- ,nl ,. ,. , 1 , 1' n r- 4:4 9 Q 6 5 5 T 5 9 If . AS easier times return, the insurance lesson Q 4 learned in the past difficult years should not 5 be forgotten-there is no safe substitute, in times good or bad, for financial stability and the will to meet obligations to policyholders, characteristic of Hartford protection. ln its 124 years of service the Hartford has met every obligation to its policy- holders promptly, in cash. HARTFORD FIRE 5 INSURANCE COMPANY HARTFORD, CONNECTICUT S Compliments of FRANCIS R. COGLEY 'ES COMPANY SYMBOL OF SECURITY AETNA LIFE INSURANCE COMPANY AND AFFILIATED COMPANIES AETNA CASUALTY E5 SURETY COMPANY AUTOMOBILE INSURANCE COMPANY STANDARD EIRE INSURANCE COMPANY HARTFORD, CONNECTICUT iteintnap ianus WATKINS BROTHERS, INC. 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Compliments of 3 A FRIEND 5 5 3 9 When making their purchases, we hope that our readers will 5 remember that the advertisers Q have helped to make the CHAT possible. Q 5 ' 9 3 s S S 040N01C02fQ10Wf-0'N-9'N0'N0240'4'-71-02' 0N0101G0140 Q0Ps01G011017W1Q-701 ou AXFIJHIL 'iEI1IIUf 574 'S 540 ua 1... A- '59 ' .4 III! 1 I l I 4. . Il Im . Xu- T'.' 1'-IA L ' 'Ui'Jf F',Vr 'VXI X , IF.- .X Nyfl-f I-. I , '51-5 '- :- II' .- PII, 'IIN . ,ZX I ,,, A s G. vw-' 'I 4 II AJ' 1.-1! .-I I v 4:11 I. Ii-' ' - .I I -1-I .- :WI x I II XI 6,1- X X X . lf -' I, X- X':fXII., ' I 4 H Nik AX 'f'W,III f .11-Lf.- X'u I ,Iwf-If' I Iv I- 5 -I .l' .XX I 5- Y 5 I I - -..'I , I F -Hn-IVF I I XI Il Tiff II if-' KJ' LVQII J 1' 1 I ISI? J, I, ' I1 I-,I X,..,-X..12, I, ,-I J. 'JI Q -... vIX.X .-,I , 'I Of MPM' LI Jul . :XXI ?:XJr QA I V L I III'-YI-mI'I Ii '. Hai,- 'jXX I IX :IX5 II. 1' -- WI., I-XJLJ -. ,J -I X, XX I-- I IX - I 'V X 'J Q' .' I' ' I L I- ,ff XZ -Li.: .I Il'. I r n - H1 . 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Suggestions in the Oxford School - Oxfordian Yearbook (Hartford, CT) collection:

Oxford School - Oxfordian Yearbook (Hartford, CT) online collection, 1938 Edition, Page 1

1938

Oxford School - Oxfordian Yearbook (Hartford, CT) online collection, 1941 Edition, Page 1

1941

Oxford School - Oxfordian Yearbook (Hartford, CT) online collection, 1947 Edition, Page 1

1947

Oxford School - Oxfordian Yearbook (Hartford, CT) online collection, 1948 Edition, Page 1

1948

Oxford School - Oxfordian Yearbook (Hartford, CT) online collection, 1949 Edition, Page 1

1949

Oxford School - Oxfordian Yearbook (Hartford, CT) online collection, 1950 Edition, Page 1

1950


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