Sanford Preparatory School - Chrysalis Yearbook (Hockessin, DE)

Page 18 text:

ls ll gall Nil sl Ml 1 r if ff lf i NA lie X wiuuu i1ANDoLPH fILARK Wzlmznglon, Delawme Born May 3, 1921, at Wilmington, Delaware IF WE were living back in the middle ages, Randy,' would be the most prized court jester for miles around, for if ever he as much as pauses between humorous statements and cracks, something really serious is up. He was Gavel Boy this year, and found himself busy forgetting the sheets on laundry day, and putting the little boys to bed hours late. He was a veritable night owl, but once a month he would go to bed early and be unable to sleep on account of the noise. Then there would be a great hue and cry about 'the sad state of affairs in the Boys' Lodge. As co- business manager of Golden Leavesj' he wangled ads in town, and as end on the football team, he bounced mightily.

Page 17 text:

MAE FRANK PICKERING New Orleans, Louisiana Born October 28, 1920, at Nashville, Tennessee FRANKlE'S gay southern accent, which causes her to say tin-thirty instead of ten-thirty, echoes all over Stephen-May. She was this year's Gavel Girl, and between dealing out sheets on Wednesday night, when there were no sheets, and seeing that all the mopping jobs got done in the morning when there were no mops, she had her small hands full and running over. She was also the class secretary-treasurer, and nary a dime slipped through Frankie. Many are the tales of woe told by opposing hockey teams of how Frankie, as a substitute halfback, nicked them here, and mowed them down there, in her ferocity.

Page 19 text:

BARBARA FRENCH BERANGER New York City, New York Born February 26, 1921 at Hackensack, New jersey BARBARA truly lives up to the phrase adapted to all students, that of burning the midnight oil. This goes on night after night, while she pours in a very con- centrated and sleepy manner over various Senior subjects, or the many wordy entanglements through which a member of the Golden Leaves literary board often has to grope. But once find Barbara outdoors on a sunny day, and you will hardly recognize her. If it is in the hockey season, she will be charging down the channel allotted to a left inner wing, and yelling vigorously as she drives the ball furiously under the fence instead of into the goal. Once in the classroom, she sobers to a mood which submits to being buried under many papers covered with hieroglyphic scribbling, beneath which she types stencils as behts the editor of the Senior Class paper, or reads novels by P. G. Wodehouse as befits Barbara.