Princeton Day School - Link Yearbook (Princeton, NJ)

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Cn a high, out-of-the way shelf of a candy shop sat some Very glum gumdrops. Every day they watched the customers lin- gering in front of the gaudy dis - plays of jumbo assortments, pouring over tiny, tempting chocolates, and exclaiming over the precious coconut animals. But no one saw the gumdrops, who were beginning to lose a bit of their sweetness with sit- ting on the shelf for so long. Then one day a new lollipop display was set-up. It was a very nice display, but the cher- ry lollipop would have none of it and escaped on a small balloon of giggles. All the other candies collapsed in ecstasies of laugh- ter at the sightg all but the guin- drops, who only watched glunily from their high shelf. The lolli- pop was not discouraged but floated right in front of them, giggling in their laces. Finally the guindrops looked pleasant, then grinned and at last began to laugh so hard that they fell right off their shelf onto the counter below, where all the children love to see them. Lucy Stover

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4, V, Q! ,i ,K My , y, , Y jack Kilgore The jung blakey-bird hopped from book to book. Jung, jung, he said, me blakey bird. He gathered with zest and inference a small wonder from large leaves. And the sky hung down, a pin-striped grey. He looked up at the sky. Bosch, he said, and carefully dragged the leaves, two by two, to a small cove under the Acid Rock. He lived there in fair splendor. Then one fine day he sat on his rock rumi- nating. He saw a worm squirming and wiggling and the worm could move in all directions. O wow, he said, the worm is God. He chewed the worm vehe- mently, he spat it out and got convulsions. Things happened rather fast and he finally flew away, across or through the tiny stripes. Moral: The bird in the sky is worth two on the hook. 18

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janet Masterton The fawn, tottering on spindle legs, paused for an instant, seeming to gather it- self up for some concerted effort to follow. lts soft eyes, fixed on a distant mountain, seemed unaware, but to the hedgehog, an old acquaintance, it was obvious that the fawn was listening intently to some forest sound as yet inaudible to himself. The hedgehog observed the fawn for some few minutes, following its elusive gaze which seemed to lead nowhere, naively hoping to penetrate its secret. Finally the hedgehog, who admittedly lacked his friend's subtlety and imagination, inquired of the fawn, What do you hear? Listen, replied the fawn softly. At the far edge of the forest, a nightingale is singing. The hedgehog listened but heard nothing. You must be mis- taken, he insisted impatiently. Perhaps it is only the wind. And he rolled himself up into a ball, refusing to comprehend. The fawn gazed down at his friend understand- ingly, but only for an instant. For he knew the nightingale awaited him in some distant glade and was off. Moral: The music is there for those who have learned to listen. 20