Princeton Day School - Link Yearbook (Princeton, NJ)

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The squirrel was bushy. The squirrel was de- cidedly bushy, and being a quiet sort, a loner in fact, determined to maintain total independence, despite a somewhat smaller stature, he had a distinct tendency to disappear behind his very bushiness. To the out- sider, he might well have seemed an aloof fellow - perhaps even disgruntled. But the initiated knew 0 his individualism and approved whole-heartedly. His world was not entirely their world, for he scorned the bustle of the earth-bound community and kept to the high tree tops. But sometimes he came down. l l Taylor Chambers

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I Cindy Shoemaker The racoon threw a pebble into the tide pool and watched the ripples wave uncertainly. She began to look for a flat round pebble to skip across the quiet pool. just the day before she had watched a little boy skipping stones out to sea. Skintnting across the top they had made gentle little splashes until there was a tiny 'gluh' and they had sunk out of View. She found two flat stones and flicked them across the surface with her paw. They skipped and then sank and she decided to look for starfish instead. Leaning over until her nose was just tickled by the surface, the racoon peered intently into the water. Little grains of sand fell over one another as a tiny crab tried to bury itself deeper and there was a scurrying of sand snails. No starfish here, but there, half-buried, was another flat stone. She picked it up and hopped it across the pool. The sea, the sea, she murmured happily and wandered off in search of the white breakers. 41

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5 uf The pheasant strutted out one fine au- tumn morning. lt was joined by some friends: three fieldniice and a quail or two. They spoke of cabbage and winter's approach and laughed at the pheasant, Who, typically, was dancing in the yellow leaves and singing a tuneless song, mocking itself. They strolled down a dusty path along the corn- field 3 the pheasant lagged behind, then took off into the woods to visit other old acquaint- ances. impatient with old tricks and stale jokes, it sought laughter in others' eyes. Moral: Pheasants pointing index fingers at their heads become wiser annually. 43 Ann Wiser