Shields High School - Patriot Yearbook (Seymour, IN)

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pxjo Bettys Tmry 1 1 MARGARET McCORD HAVE ALWAYS spent my summer at a girl ' s camp in Maine, and I ' d like to know how a girl could have romantic experiences when the only man we ever saw was Old Jerry, who rowed over to camp twice a week with supplies and the mail. He is cross-eyed and half-witted besides. Other years it didn ' t matter. But when I got back to school last fall, all was different. The girls unpacked at once, bringing out numerous pictures of men and telling the most interesting things that had happened during the summer. I began to think that something was lacking in my vacation. That hateful Laura Maples had at least six large sized pictures and the most exciting experiences of all the girls. I tried to steer the conversation back into old channels of swimming and basketball, but I wasn ' t successful; so for three days I kept quiet while the other girls talked. Then, led on by the cat, Laura, they began to question me. Hadn ' t I anything to tell them? I evaded their inquiries for a while, but soon they began to nod to each other and whisper. I knew I must speak or lose my place as leader to Laura, who had always been jealous of me. So I spoke. I was on pretty shaky ground and I knew it, so I used Dick Gordon ' s name to banish all shadow of doubt. Dick is the Yale football hero, whom we admired — all last year, although we had never seen him. Louise Ferguson ' s cousin, who also was at Yale, used to write to her all about him and she always read us the letters. Now I ought to have known better than aim so high — but I knew it would bowl them over — and bowl them over it did. They fairly gasped at me, green with envy. From that time, if Laura would begin to brag — I immediately silenced her by casually mentioning where Dick and I did this or that. Page Nineteen]

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fo pircte F HELEN BARNES AIR, HAUNTING, baffling, nymph you trifling spirit. Desired by all y ou deign to love a few, From far I hear your voice, I strain to hear it ; But still again you leave me seeking you. To some you bring of thoughts a golden store. Fair stifling these with lavish overflow; To me you bring desire and nothing more. Except perhaps a whisper sweet and low. That spurs me on to greater efforts. Then you dart away with mocking swiftness Mayhap to try your tricks on other men, I pray, be kind to them in their bereftness ! Ah well ! your shyness breeds appreciation In hearts of men, you Goddess Inspiration ! [Page Eighteen

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All went on calmly until just after Thanksgiving, when the blow fell. I was curled up on the window - t reading a book, when Laura came run- ning into the room. I glanced up, wishing to convey to her intelligence that she had intruded, when her words struck a chill to my very marrow, banish- ing all peace and calm. Oh Betty, she cried, Mrs. Jameson has just called me up and invited me to a week-end house party at her country home. Jack and Dick Gordon are going to be there, and she told me to bring you along, by all means, as you and Dick were such good friends. I told her about your delightful sum- mer with Dick. She is waiting to speak to you. Speechless, I got to my feet, and started down to the telephone. What should I do ? If I declined, Laura would of course talk to Dick, and find out that he had never even heard of me. That would be too much of an advantage to give my rival, for I knew that no time would be lost in spreading the news abroad at school. But on the other hand — if I accepted, it would be under false pretenses and I should be doubly embarassed if exposed before my hostess No, the only thing to do, was to go and bluff it out. All the time I was murmuring pleased words of acceptance — I was pray- ing for relief. I might just as well lie down and die, I thought. I will omit the following two days except to say that they were most painful. I lost at least five poirnds and an additional worry was added to my already crushing load. My clothes were now too large. I told Katherine Turner about my clothes and she offered me her entire wardrobe. On Friday evening we arrived at the junction and were met by Mrs. Jameson. Lucidly for me, the boys had not yet returned from a trip to the village. My hour of exposure was at least postponed and my heart grew a little lighter. On the drive home Laura chattered so incessantly that my silence was not bothered. On our arrival at the house we were shown our rooms to rest before dimier when we were to meet the other guests. In desperation, I began to pace up and down the room. Going to the window, I saw a treUis upon which was a vine, now bare of leaves. I quickly climbed down to the ground, and hurried in the direction of the wood, which I had noticed on our way to the house. There I sat down in a protected little hollow ; shut my eyes and tried to think. But my mind worked in a circle. A pebble fell into my lap and looking up, I saw a pleasant-faced boy, with the friendliest brown eyes filled with astonishment, probably, at seeing at the bottom of a gully a girl, sitting with her face buried in her hands. Hello! What ' s up? Not lost are you? he questioned. I felt myself grovnng hot all over. Provoked at having blushed before a mere country boy, I answered with all the dignity I could muster: No, I ' m quite all right, thank you. [Page Twenty