Polytechnic High School - Caerulea Yearbook (Long Beach, CA)

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LITERARY 5 4- ment for breath, leaving me overcome with awe of the strange being that was to invade our peaceful home; and then she rushed on. And, Katherine, what are we to do with your hair? Ilm afraid if she. finds you following that silly style she will be disgusted and give her money to some one elseeand then there is your college education gone! Oh! this awful hair, I cried as I ran my hand wildly thru the stubble that remained on my head. Why did I do it? Oh, Mother, if I Can't go to Stanford I'll die! fust die! I cried as my dream faded for the second time. Hush! Hushl Come in here and let's see if we can't do some thing with the stuff, Mother soothed. For an hour we worked, trying to twist up the stubbly ends- striving to fasten on a little wad of my former hair Jthieh effort al- ways ended by the wad's falling off on the floor and by distributing hair neatly over Mother's dark dressywr even trying to tie a ribbon about my head, thus hiding the offending hair. At last I gave it up, but not until Mother had thoroly squelched my last suggestion, that I wear a wig, by declaring. No daughter of mine shall ever be seen with hair that is not her own. Dad leit at seven with the machine in which to bring the de- cider of my fate as I put it. Mother and I, who had remained at home ostensibly to add the last finishing touches to the supper that we had delayed because of our visitor, spent those precious minutes in smoothing my hair and striving desperately to make me appear sensible. We could not decide which would be best-to have it smooth and close to my head tsensible, but, alas! horribly unbecom- ingy or fluffy and blowing about. It looks silly any way you do it, Katherine. What on earth did you cut it for P cried Mother desperately. I give it up 1 Just then we heard the car stop and Dads voice saying cheerily, Welcome home, Emma. May you enjoy your visit as much as we shall!

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l 4 CAERULEA '20 ways would call me Baby even now that I, in my opinion. am fully grownJ The iamily at last quit talking about my latest stuntIi when I was around, but several times during the next few weeks I heard Mother mention it, and once I over-heard her saying to Dad, I really do think it becoming, but she looks so frivolous and-and sort of silly. The ladies oi the club at our last meeting were discussing the silly appearance of most girls who have cut their hair. At school, when the girls had recovered from the surprise, I found that altho most of them told me that I looked well with my hair cut, I heard some oi them several times mention that they that bobbed hair made girls look so silly- Especially if theyr are seniors and have to go to college that way? remarked one young lady, tas she saw me-a senior-passJ The mention of college brot to me the memory of a conversation held a few weeks previous, in which Mother and Dad agreed that they could not afford to send me to Stanford-the land of dreams. My mind was soon recalled, however, from the broad campus of Stanford timaginecD to the iihroad application of Emerson's iCom- pensation' tvery reaD. One day a few weeks after this incident I returned home irom school to find Mother in a great flutter of excitement. She met me at the door ilourishing a letter before my astonished eyes and talking as fast as her practiced tongue would allow. I managed to gather from the flood of words with which my mind was swamped that my wealthy Aunt Emma was to arrive on the seven-Iifteen train to make us a visit. iiAnd, Kitty! Kitty! Mother rushed on, she says she is coming to see you and that if you are sensible she will send you to Stanford. You know, your aunt is a lecturer on Women's Problems of To- day or something like that. I donit understand it exactly. but she is a very practical and sensible woman and you must not appear fool- ish Iike so many girls that we know. Here Mother paused a mo-

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l 6 CAERULEA 20 We! Wei I thought resentfully. Why doesn't he speak for himself? I think she might have. sent her old money without com- ing out here bothering us all to death. Mother and I heard their footsteps on the porch. Mother smoothed down a stray lock of my hair, and gave a tug at my plain blue serge dress. The door creaked. Mother gave my hair another little pull. The door opened. Mother ran her fingers vigorously thru my long-suffering hair, making it stand out Uather wildly I fearecD. Aunt Emma entered and I gasped as I saw her and imagined my dreamed-of gay years at Stanford slipping away. Her hair 0h: first thing I noticody was drawn straight back and was crowned by a severely plain beaver hat. Her shoes were squarehtocd and flat- heeled. Her dress was perfectly straight and untrimmed. How do you do, my clears P 5112 said brightly, and is this my little Katherine? Well, well! I knew right from the start that you are. an unusual girl, she continuzd calmly. And that hairll Yes, that hair! I thought. THAT hint Will finish all my hopesl . Of all ways of combing hair I ever saw. continued my eccen- tric aunt, II consider Dutch cut the mostFeh-the most sensible, my dear. Let me see, was it Stanford you wish to attend? Well, yes. Stanford. You shall go there. Such a nice sensible girl as you are-I could tell the iirst instant I saw you, my dear. Beauty sacrtliced for comfort and case! And that is remarkable in one so young. And now, my dear Clara, she went on, turning to my aston- ished mother, Hhow have you been and what are you doing for the great Woman's Movement?