Princeton Day School - Link Yearbook (Princeton, NJ)

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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

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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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Another inspiration had come to the boulder, which was constantly plagued by its organizational tendencies and creative spirit. And so it set off in search of fellow rocks. Coming upon a scattering of pebbles, the boulder announced, A wall. If We could just get together, l believe we might succeed with a Wall. But the pebbles only stared in disbelief, and the boulder, who was given to self-consciousness, collapsed in an embarrassed fit oi minor hysterics. The boulder made a half-hearted attempt to apologize for its unorthodox behavior, but on turning completely red, it shrugged and rolled off in search of other converts. The pebbles looked at one another and concluded that the boulder was undoubtedly insane. lt did have a point, however, and so they set off after it in a line, struggling to keep pace. Moral: An enthusiastic albeit mad rolling stone gathers considerable moss. Louise Sayen