Princeton Day School - Link Yearbook (Princeton, NJ)

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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

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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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Une fois, il y avait une toute petite fille. . . And she was found many times, smiling and leaping on a fine day, or sometimes, pushing a little White hall around the hockey field, lightly and firmly. One particularly fine day, she was thoughtfully pushing this ball, and suddenly came to face a hefty defense of six, tunicked hoarding-school girls. Swiftly, ol' course, she moved over and under their bodies, and shot the hall into the goal. Mon Dieu! elle a sourig Comment ces jeux sont faits. The game finished and Won by this stroke, she wandered back down a path, split- ting light flowers from their stems, and laughing, because it was a private joke. Moral: On a des raisons, que personne ne connait point. Lindsey Hicks '1