Reed College - Griffin Yearbook (Portland, OR)

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distinct from the proverbial hockey and basketball 0f the past siealsoilqs. We believe thatanew precedent has been set. The act1v1ties of the yeat me uaee sqigash, tennis, volley-ball and indoor base-ball, with Swedlsh gymhgstice an C116: CUC dancing to balance. Miss Nilson, dancing instructor, 18 now directing an e a crate dance drama, HThe Swan Knight, which is to be staged on Telman Waymear the lake. The drama, which is being sponsored by the Women S PhySICal Edu- cation Department, promises to be one of the leading events of Commencement week. Woman Gym Instructors 72

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, r a H13 GRIPF'I g3. Tobe wream-TA Wantasy This is no mansion newly-raisecl, this Palace of Dreams; for unnumbered years passed slowly in its building. Fathomless seas have beat against its high cliffs, and unknown centuries have worn to grayness its dim outlines. Dark it stands above the endless ocean, high against more endless skies. Far above the gulls pass and repass in their flight toward vanishing horizons, and far below the breakers roll against the age-old crags. There stands the lVIansion of Dreams. Few men know it is there, and those few have forgotten, for it was built before their day. To them it is but a legend once-told, and now no longer remembered. Here you can be alone; alone, with only the slow-moving sea gulls above, and far, far below, the sound of the measureless ocean. Around it are great gardens, filled with strange flowers from across the seas. Here are orchids, patterned with orange and black; moccasin-slippers with fiery, scarlet tongues, and here and there poison arrow-Howers from tropical forests. Labyrinthean paths lead between trees which sway above the flowers and speak in cleathlike' whispers of things which were but now have ceased to be. Deep pools where spotted lilies move in rythm with the murmuring above them, lie, half-hidden in the darkness. No birds frequent these lonely and deserted gardens, and only the winds breathe to them tales of lands from whence they came. And they, listening, sigh and sigh again, and are forever silent. Over all is a strangeness and a brooding quiet, the solitude of seas and boundless skies. Inside the great doors, open ever to the breeze and the murmurs of hushed . gardens, are strange rooms, filled with matchless treasures of no age and of no time. Long shadows from corners which have no beginning and no end, darken Hoors covered with rich rugs woven in colors, and marked with queer devices. There are told in their warps, tales of far-distant lands; caravans freightecl with priceless treasures, perishing under desert suns while oceans of sand sweep over them; legends of love and death in the heart of a land where only the stars are wise. and men are as senseless fools; tales of jade, and gold, and bronze; of incense burn- ing in carven temples; tales of forests of teak, of jewels less beautiful than maidens who sway to music but half-heard. All these are there on the floor in colors which are as a fragrance, and matchless beauty. Strange tapestries are hung on panelled walls from low ceilings framed in dark beamsetapestries whose working was the life time of slaves of their masters. There, too, are chairs carved in weird, fantastic shapes, bent to fit the sitter; tables inlaid with ivory, and one of blackest ebony with mother-of-pearl from bottomless caverns of the sea tinted in rose and Opales- cent hues. ln far corners are seen great chests half-opened and filled with richest fabricsasilks filmy as the foam of the sea, and more transparent; garments worked with rare jewels in dreamlike shapes, and wrought in curious designs; mantles broidered with precious metals in finest workmanship; jewels for dusky hair, and bracelets of silver set with jade for ankles white as milk; girdles of gold in- wrought with rubies, and here and there glimpses of a sandal for a foot of rosy '74