Shortridge High School - Annual Yearbook (Indianapolis, IN)

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Pine Tree lady Br MARY EIIZABETII ii0WE TNG Hs, .. e , vt 8 cra'bl'i'p y. if ' i' ' T s lip Qyafgqiwid i alsi . re s 2 ' wyaapype ii ffalliiie 'ye' l f li rbi M1 W N iff L ,dai rw-4-.v rl e, r If oflhri f i l ZWWL If JY www il ai! J l I J -57 fbi Maw , lib N ifivih., if if l , ' f i ',li A fri U l,- '- up 1.- if ed' he ,'p1j1'J f iss l f fl fy, he l i l id AW ai gh E xif? saw' 1 V ,,,,,. a a . , , if' 4.,2 .je .e Wil 1 ull! I think the Pine Tree Lady's best Oi all my dearest iriends, For every night when 1,111 in hed Her houghs she nods at me and bends And in 1ny dreams I always hear The song her friendly needles sweep All night across the window glass, Till it has sung me fast asleep. As twinkling over slipping boughs, Or skating clown the mossy side, Upon her softly swaying cones, Sonietirnes I hear the fairies ride. And when across the window panes Her needles shake the light, it seems They say the morning time has come To wake me up from fairy dreams.

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e : . I. , , l l , ii- . ll l l do as l .' ' 1 She is a happy mixture of rain and sunshine, of seri- ousness and fun, enough of seriousness to keep her from frivolity and enough of sprightliness to make her thor- oughly good company. Hers is so straightforward a sincerity as to be almost boyish if it were not softened a bit by her womanliness. For she is not ashamed of being governed by her ideals, sensible, healthy ones, not by any means lacking in the loftiness and enthusiasm that her very youth makes charming. She is a better student, perhaps, than her companion across the page, but she has not yet acquired so well the gift of being a grace- ful loser. I-Ier strongest induence lies, however, in the quality of expecting much of other people, expecting much and gaining much, for she pays them the innocent compliment of believing in them. There is a strength about her, unconsciously springing from a wealth of school-girl experience wherein she has learned to symf pathize in misfortune aswell as in joy. Life is very beau- tiful to her because, of course, it should be, and then, because her very love of all beauty invests it and all its little every-day things with the romance of its own weaving. Day-dreams are not unknown to her, dreams where fairies have given place to less eery companions in the form of little hopes and desires of a wide useful- ness hereaiter. More perhaps than any other one thing. this wish to make the world better for the work her hands, can do, distinguishes her. And this is our Short- ridge Girl, spontaneous in spirit at one time, and per- plexed at another with the soulful depth of her inarticu- late feeling--a worthy playmate for our Boy-a striver after the rainbow of her happy dreams-and one who will fulhll at last, we hope, the ideals which our Alma Mater has impressed upon her. ,f .f' 1 f. - x A t-A , H. ae, . ,gg .1 ,, ,I fpifj' ff: ' r YW '- ,,,.,,a , li t l it ,r 'L , The Shortritlge Girl Br KATHARINE IAMESON

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fm RANDFA'llHl3R Willetts leaned wearily back in the massive uncomfortable chair. Perhaps its very mas- siveness was what wearied him. His frail, old-fash- ioned figure was not at home in this room of his. en s The whole room was too expensively old-fashioned. Grandfather closed his eyes, and his memory slipped easily back to the dear old-time sitting room with its yellow chintz curtains and its low white cl1airs,- 1 Amanthis' chair and Fatl1er's. Even now when Will called him Father, his memory caught a glimpse of the yellow and white cottage, of Aman- this and the children. He and.tl1e little tots would romp through the sunny rooms to where Mother was, and enjoy the usual game of tag around the sewing table till he thought they had played enough. When Father laid his hand on Mother's shoulder and she looked up and smiled, the children understood they were a bit too noisy. They laughed and skipped out tothe yard.-A light rap roused him. A girl of eighteen came eagerly into the heavy mahogany room and dropped down on the big four-poster. Grandfatl1e1', is all that furniture in the attic yours i Yes, Elizabeth. Grandmother andl kept house with it when your father was only a little boy. Grandfather gazed unseeing, straight ahead, for a minute, and Elizabeth decided to postpone her request and hear about the furniture. It's all so quaint, with those little. wreaths of yellow roses on the backs of the cl1ai1's, she said softly. How did you have the rooms? Were they in yellow, too? Y es, they were. And he painted a loving picture of the low chairs, the chintz curtains, the sewing table, and the dainty white dresser, as they looked in the sunny cottage years ago. Unconseiously Grandfather gave little touches of life in the cots rage, and this nnodern girl caught, glimpses of the simple happy life of a girl bride a half century ago, and of her handsome lrusband-glimpses of Amanthis and me, of her own grandfather whom she had thought of as always quiet and retiring. As she left with his pleased consent to use the white furniture in her room, with yellow fl- U'-1 ,nb 'g ' . if s , ,.--,.e.- .':-' r. ,sfe -:- .1s' paffi Tix -I--3552: 7- Vi til. aussi'- lest We target Br JEANNE SAWYER