St Rose Academy - Yearbook (San Francisco, CA)

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1-Ml---A-,gf Go1.D AND WHITE Big Sisters By JANE MADDEN IG sisters! Mighty people who think they are so wise. Were they never little themselves? It hardly seems possible. They always manage to be in everything that does not concern them. Whenever you want a new dress they seem to pick it out, First the goods doesn't suit them and then the pattern is too old a style. They argue over whether it shall have pleats or gathers. It has gathers because the older sister thinks they look better, She takes you down town to purchase a pair of shoes. You have your heart set on pumps with high heels. Then your sister says, What, you wear high heels! Why, when I was your age I wore high shoes with low heels, not low shoes with high heels. And you promptly get low heels Conttarv to your heart's desire. You bring a new book home from the library, one by your favorite author and one you have been waiting a long time to read. You seat yourself com- fortably and start to read it, thinking you have a whole hour before dinner. Then your sister comes in. You've just been to the library? What book did you get? Let me see it just a minute? You know unless you give it to her willingly it will be taken by force. You grant her request. I-Ier minute be- comes minutes, then a half hour and finally, at the close of the hour she has Hnished it. Instead of returning it, she immediately goes to mother. This book isn't fit for your daughter to read, I wouldn't let her read it if I were you. If you accuse her of having read it, immediately on the defense she re- plies that she has just glanced through it. Ah, then! If your names both happen to begin with the same initial,- J, for instance-everything addressed to J or Miss J is given to her because she is the elder. She always manages to arrive home irst and then she gets the first look at everything. If she opens an invitation to a party beginning at nine o'clock in the evening, she highly disapproves. She never went to evening parties when she was young! Does she never realize that the object of her discussion and selection is to be worn by her younger sister, not by her? Or should sixteen-year-old girls be put in rompers and sandals and given a picture book to read? There are times I admit when big sisters are very considerate. But at such times we must realize that recompense must always be made. They take you to the theatre and during the short walk home they propose a seemingly inno- cent suggestion: They would just love to wear such and such tomorrow. May they? This is really just a matter of form for they would wear it anyway. How often I have wished that I were the oldest, but no, someone had to be the baby and I suppose I just happened to be that one. On Big Brothers-Partieulary Mine By JEAN HANNA IG brothers! A little thrill of joy runs up and down by spine at the very sound. They are not the pests and crabs and other uncomplimen- tary things that are said about them, but the best pals, the most helpful friends, loving sympathizers, the dearest but most annoying teases, and the Forty-three

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-+----I-if G o L D A N D W HIT E y3+---?---- On Eating Cream Puffs By GRETCHEN LINS HIS is an age of experiments, of breaking records, of adventure, and, let me say now and forever, an age of specialism and individuality. - '- Everywhere you go you will meet people who are struggling to make a name for themselves in their particular line, no matter whether this be avia- tion, medicine, flag-pole sitting, roller-skating or-what you will. It is every bit as important for the flag-pole sitter to make the world's endurance record as it is for the aviator to make a world flight-in the estima- tion of the individual. That is why I contend that my friends are narrow- minded and prejudiced when they laugh at what seems to me, not only one of the most difficult and prodigious feats possible but also, unhappily, one of the most ignored. Every day you may read in the newspaper about some man going on a hunting trip to Africa or about some expedition being started to save the souls of the poor, neglected Fiji Islanders, but I ask you, have you ever heard of a cream-puff eating contest? Now please, above all things, do not misunder- stand me. I do not mean-I state this emphatically so that there may he no room for doubt-that this contest is to decide who can eat the most cream puffs. That is too easy. Any properly brought up boy, given a sufficient amount, could dispose of enough to make you feel quite weak and depressed. What I do mean, is a contest to determine who can dispose of a cream puff in the cleanest, the most dexterous and yet the most artistic manner. You may think this easy but I warn you right now it is not. I, myself, have labored for years, and have, after much weary and disheartening practise only suc- ceeded in reaching the fairly clean stage, but as I look back on my first attempts I am able to smile reminiscently and pat myself on the back for I know that I have progressed rather successfully. When I started out I was like all amateurs, rash and apt to be hasty. I laughed at any idea of failure, scoffed at any warnings and dared-yes, actually dared-one day to order a cream puff in a restaurant. When the waiter re- turned with my order and placed it in front of me I noticed that my com- panion gazed upon me as if hypnotized. Notwithstanding, I nonchalantly raised the cream puff in my fingers and bit absent-mindedly into the luscious morsel. Then, and not till then, did I realize that Fate, so kind in the past, had turned like the proverbial worm and had planned to humiliate me before my friends. I will pass over this tragedy: it is too painful a subject for analy- sis. I will pass on to the happier days-to that time when I triumphantly ate a whole cream puff without a drop of cream descending upon my chin or dropping down my collar. I feel it is only fair, however, to tell you that I did have a stiff neck for a week, the consequence of stretching around the edge of the cream puff after the cream which would insist on oozing out. But this is only a minor detail and I am happy now, for whatever I may have suffered is doubly repaid by my present satisfaction in my achievement. The only thing I cannot understand is why more interest is not taken in this-which I consider one of the supreme accomplishments of a cultured lady. Forfy-Iwfw

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GoLD AND WHITE 132------dl greatest standbys in the world. I have thought from my earliest youth that my brother possessed not only these qualities to a far greater degree than any- one else's but also that he was the brightest and most intelligent person in all the world. Whenever I was confronted with a question I immediately took it to him and demanded an answer. No matter how absurd the answer was, I was always satisfied. It must be right, for Buddy had said it was so and so. Unfortunately for me I would always ask a question when he was busily occupied in the process of shaving or tying a tux tie. For instance, one day I softly opened the door, peeped in around the edge and asked, Buddy dear, who crossed the Delaware? There he was standing before the mirror, legs apart, his face heavily lathered and screwed in the most comical manner, his right hand holding his safety razor aloft, his left hand pulling his ear in the most ungainly position. I received no response but a grunt and change of position. A pause and once again, more impatiently this time, Buddy, who crossed the Delaware? Not until the left cheek was smoothly shaven did he ask, I-Iuhf What did you say? I said, 'Who crossed the Dela- ware?' most impatient this time. Oh, I don't know: don't bother me now. Yes, you do know, I coaxed confldently. Tell me, who crossed the Dela- ware? Seeing no other way to get rid of me than by answering he responded, Oh, Napoleon. Now go and let me shave in peace. Thank you, I mur- mured and left. The next day I argued and dared, yes actually dared Sister to say George Washington crossed the Delaware when my Buddy said it was Napoleon. Do you see how it is? Thus I went through grammar school, relying on my brother for puz- zling questions, receiving absurd answers, and defying anyone to doubt or con- tradict them. Then came graduation and high school. The work of high school held no fear for me for was I not armed with my brother's knowledge? I at least thought so, but soon found I was mistaken. In the first place he frankly ad- mitted that he could not answer all my questions, and in the second-and this is the worst of all--no one in high school cared to hear about him or what he said. When a discussion was going on and I wanted to add my opinion, if I began with, A'Well, my Buddy says or A'lVIy brother says, I was immedi- ately cut short by unanimous looks of scorn, of disgust and moans. Oh, for heaven's sake, is she going to talk about her brother again? Who cares what he has to say? or If you think I'm going to listen to you rave about your wonderful brother again you are mistaken. At first I was hurt and indignant. My brother, my dear brother, whom I had held to be the highest and finest thing on this earth for fourteen years, was the scorn of everyone! Then I began to see that I was to blame. Everyone didn't think the same of him as I did. They had fine brothers at home, too. Mine wasn't the only one on the earth, So by degrees I began to mention him less and less and now hardly at all. I don't ask him any more questions and I do not believe that Napoleon crossed the Delaware. But I still and always will think of him as the finest and brightest brother in all the world. lmrfmf :rr