Rowland Hall Saint Mark's - Hallmark / Lantern Yearbook (Salt Lake City, UT)

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Perhaps we aren ' t as old as lasses Who have left the Hall before; Perhaps that’s why we like our classes, This class of ’24. Perhaps we haven’t been all there In things we should have been — At least you’ll say we’ve been quite fair And that our play in sports was keen. In leadership we do abound. That no one can deny; In other classes no more is found, Than in ’24 you spy. So even if we seem at times a trifle of a bore, To the teachers of us all; We hope you’ll think of ’24, As loving Rowland Hall. — Dorothy Welch. TEN WONDERS OF THE MODERN WORLD 1. Marian Story keeping out of an argument. 2. Clarisse Ellis becoming a noted soprano. 3. Peggy Wall acting grown up. 4. Helen Leacher developing into an aesthetic dancer. 5. Hilly Thompson taking up oratory. 6. Aldora Tobin walking up South Temple alone on Saturday afternoon. 7. Betty Harkness becoming frivolous. 8. Dorothy Hamilton getting A in Latin. 9. Dorothy Welch winning her letter in athletics. 10. Louise Cline coming to history class without her notebook. P. S. Eleventh wonder: The faculty saying: “This is the best class that has ever graduated.” WOULD YOU? What would thoughts be in years to come If we hadn’t our boarding school days? What would be the final sum If we were lacking this certain phase? Sometimes things do go the opposite way From what we think they should; But would you change a single day? I wonder how many would! — Dorothy Welch. Page Twenty-three

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|3eep into tl)E Jfuture MKN [ was asked lo write a prophecy for the Senior Class of 1921, I llioupht for a long time. Finding, at length, that iny imagination was very un[)ro ductive, I decided not to tax my brain any longer, but to consult some one who really knew. I made a visit, therefore, to a clairvoyant. She was exceedingly sympathetic and allowed me to look through her crystal ball, so that 1 might be assured of the verity of the prediction. Eagerly I grasped the cool smooth ball, twirled it three times as I was bidden, then gazed into its transparent surface, and the future is at once before me. This mav sound egotistic, but 1 must tell the truth. First, I see myself locking the door of a small shop on the window of which is the sign, “Select and Imported Models, Mademoiselle Clarisse Ellis, Proprietrix. ” Oh, cruel world, thus my fate is settled and 1 had hoped to be at least President of the United States. I walk along a street, evidently in Salt Lake, but what a changed Salt Lake. Where had all the skyscrapers come from? Presently 1 turn up a path leading to an extremely attrac- tive house. Aldora meets me at the door, Heinie, of course, must be somewhere within; but no, it is a boarding house for Old Maids! We are having tea, when in walks Dorothy Welch, bringing all of her five children, and “mother” written all over her. A blur comes over the surface of the ball and when it clears ihe scene has changed. A ranch lies stretched before my eyes, the sky is gray streaked with light, it is sunrise. Who is that figure feeding corn to the chickens? Is it? — no, it cannot be — but, yes, it is, Marian Story. Bang, bing. What a noise. An aeroplane is cross- ing the Rocky mountains. Peggy is at the wheel. She has joined the United States Air Mail Service. Another noise distinctly unpleasant is here. It is the sound of a dentist’s buzzer, and Louise Cline is the dentist. She is filling a tooth for Helen Leather, who had pulled out a filling while eating a caramel made at the candy fac- tory of her husband. I’m sure you will all rejoice with me on hearing that the dream of at least one of our members has been realized. Again the surface blurs, then clears, disclosing Hildegarde garbed in a nurse’s dress and assisting a handsome man to walk. The well-known dreamy look is in her eyes, and I can tell by it that she has fallen in love with one of her |)atients, and is going to give up her career to marry him. And now I see Belly Harkness, her height accentuated by the small children around her with whom she is playing leap frog. She has taken up settlement work and has her proteges at the park for the day. As 1 am giggling at Betty’s antics Dorothy Hamilton comes slowly walking toward me. She has a book of Browning’s poems in her hand and it is evident that she is preparing her next speech for the Browning Club of which she hopes soon to become president. Good gracious, is this the way we are all going to turn out? The disclosures stun me and the crystal ball falls from my hand. Can these things, so contrary to our natures, come to pass? If they should, all the training which we have so care- fully undergone will be of no avail. Far be it from me, however, to dispute what the fates decree; time alone will tell. Twenty-two

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VLift otuance of jWaps! (A page from Marian’s College Board Examination!) Maps have always interested me because I have never been able, really, o under- stand them. I have often wondered how they came to take this particular form; that is, who decided that north should be on top, instead of east, south, or west; who divided up this world of ours into such a maze of latitudes and longitudes, and what right had they to do so. We are brought up to take these things for granted, but now and then a doubt creeps into my mind; may he throughout the ages mankind has l)een up side down. In what dark age maps were invented, 1 do not know. It may have been in the stone age, for there are indications of such markings on the walls of ancient dwell- ings; or, their use may not have come in to fashion until civilization was supposedly fairly well advanced. At any rate, it stands to reason that as soon as man began to do any extensive traveling he probably developed the habit of carrying a sheet of paper or a block of stone about with him, on which he had previously marked his course. But it was not until the invention of the compass and the proof that the world was round that man had the benefit of his present day knowledge of a world divided into innumerable sections by countless lines. The most confusing thing about maps as we have them today, is that the colors are forever changing. If New York would stay green, once somebody had decided that it was green, and Pennsylvania pink, or Germany yellow and France purple, 1 am very sure that never, never would 1 call any of them England, if England were orange. But I suppose this seems very foolish to one who is not so entangled in the web of a map’s eccentricities as I am. Undoubtedly the benefit of these diagrams of the earth, or any section of it, far out-weighs their evils. Nevertheless, if I should endeavor to prove this contention 1 should lose my first point, and be forced to con- fess, that, after all, the real reason why 1 don’t understand maps is because I didn’t make them, divide them, and paint them myself. Page Twenty-four