Princeton Day School - Link Yearbook (Princeton, NJ)

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v. X' Wi , , y I , kgnrfi , l 'v i 125,35 W K 'Sail' .H Q :miie 4 E. -N - .':'tits 'N 3. t , 3-si Margaret Meigs Once upon a time there was a grasshopper of the green Variety who lived in a mea-5 dow and was very dexterous in her hopping maneuvers. She hopped around the cows and did figure-eights around the bulls, who became dizzy trying to keep up with her. She was extremely fond of a purple harmonica that she had bought at a 16th Street Pier the years she had gone east. When she played it all the meadow creatures would gather around her in wonder and amazement. Many of the ants in the hills brought food to her meadow-ins for the banquet which always took place afterwards. The grasshopper would always store all that was left for the winter. You see, unlike the crickets who begged their way through the snowy season, this grasshopper was not only Versatile, figure-eighted, and purpled with harmonica strains, but she was self- sufficient. Moral: The beautiful way to be self-sufficient is to play the wind and let others bring things for you. 28

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A group of eminent Harvard art historians encircled the straight ivoijx' statue ot' a Woman, set in sunlight in the center of a great domed hall. Obviously, it is the noblest product of the Graeco-Roman synthesis manifest in the first century A. D. Regard the unique chiseling technique employed in the eye structure. On the contrary, l date it to the Greek archaic period in the fifth century B. C. , by its astonishing resemblance to the Kare of the Acropolis. Gentlemen, this argument is obviously impossible, for you ignore that those two culture periods are quite distinct. The carving maintained repose, and a look of polite disbelief. The scholars shifted and argued and circled, until, furious, they burst out and dispersed. The carving looked after them, then removed and adjusted a pin in her hair. Then she stepped down, and Walked across the hall, and down to the gallery where she knew that those young ladies from Avignon were going to be holding the meeting of races. Moral: Some, after all, have better things to do. Louise Hutner ia Y Photo Credit f Laurie Vance lohnson 1111 .Ill 'A

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One morning a greyish-white dove came to rest in the castle courtyard. She cooed softly but all the other birds were still asleep, so instead she flew up to one of the gargoyles and engaged it in a conversation. At first he was shy and difficult but soon he was spewing forth all sorts of marvelous stories about queens and kings, knights and magicians. The dove was enthralled listening and began imagining and wondering about all that he had seen. Suddenly, though, he stopped. What's wrong? she asked. lt's. . . it's raining, he sputtered. The dove smiled, promised to return and flew off to find a tree that was dry. She slept in an oak and dreamt of flying gargoyles. When she awoke the rain had stopped, so she stretched lusciously, preened her feathers and flew back to the roof and the gargoyle. He was still spouting water through his mouth but he blew seven water rings for her when he saw her coming. The dove trilled delightedly and knew she was happy- Anne Kolsrud Dfw' 2' 'K fhwbsp ,N -wuq 53 5 uit