St Rose Academy - Yearbook (San Francisco, CA)

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GoLD AND WHITE make myself appear as small as possible, Perhaps she'll think I'm up already -'praps she won't see me. But no hope. Wi'll you get up? Come on, Dodo-yes, stop that fake snoring! No fooling Mary-but still I try. O stop it, Dodo-it'll be just as hard Hve minutes from now, Isn't she the little philosopher, though? A'Sure, I'm getting up, I murmur drowsily. Yes? Crising inflectionj. Well you won't object to my taking off the bed clothes then, will you darling? Crising inflectionj. Thats generally the last straw. I give myself up for lost and with much yawning, stretching and groaning, draw myself slowly up, Such is lifel Oh, such is the life of a school girl! QM My Dreams By HELEN SULLIVAN As silent as the dawn of day Which steals upon the sleeping world, To burst into that glorious ray Which rends the gloom of night unfurled. They come-my dreams. As soothing as the liquid dew Which falls as raindrops from above, To kiss, to strengthen and renew The tired flower with its love- They are-my dreams. fls calmly as a bird in flight lVho soars afar into the sky And reaching to his greatest height Then surely. slowly. fades from eye. They go-my dreams. And leave me in a daze. 354 Today By LORRAINE WALSH To-day lives only in the present, lt cannot be the past nor future: Hence, do not let it be misspent, For once 'tis gone, you but allure A vacant space. Eternity in miniature. For! y-eight

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Gorn AND WHIT'E Little did I realize what I was saying when, finding that we were rather crowded as to seating space, I obligingly offered to sit in the rumble seat. 'AlVlother, I said sweetly to my somewhat surprised maternal parent, Hif there's not much room I'll sit in the rumble seat. I won't mind a bit. What inno- cent words, what an innocent intention-but what a final, hideous disillu- sionmentll Not even when I was rudely hoisted into the seat by my companion did I realize what I had freely condescended to undertake, I snuggled down and let the wind ruffle my hair and blow the color into my cheeks. I laughed and pronounced it 'Akeen funf And even later when my legs had a stiff, cramped feeling and I felt un- usually grimy all over I said it was all right and I managed to smile. I bore it all with patient endurance until we started to climb the moun- tains. Up and up we climbed, we skidded, we swerved, in and out, around and back, from side to side with a slow, steady, sickening motion. Lower and lower I sank while my head whirled with the movement of the rumble seat. And all the time my companion, who had a copious imagination and a continually empty stomach, talked unceasingly of food: Of nice juicy steak, oozing luscious gravy, of potatoes, of pie. On and on he raved while we swayed back and forth around the curves, slowly, swishingly, but surely. He reached the ice cream stage when my mistreated spirit would allow no more. Feebly I raised a hand in protest and murmured to him to stop, lest I should die on the spot. I closed my leaden eyes and for fifteen blessed minutes my weary body rested and I slept. I slept-and woke at the journey's end to find myself a wreck, a hideous, drab person, utterly devoid of beauty, with a broken spirit and an absolute horror of rumble seats. And even now, two days since my memorable ride, its traces are still upon me. I cower at the mere mention of them, a far-away look comes into my eyes and in a gasping breath I strangely murmur, 1 'Rumble seats, ah yes, rumble seats. On Getting Up In The Morning By GRETCHEN L1Ns DON'T mean Saturday morning, I tell you right now. I mean Mon- day, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. Even as I say this a picture comes to my mind. It is seven o'clock in the morning. The bed never was so comfortable before. I lie there so cozy: life is one vague happy dream. I feel like a cat that has just licked up a dish of cream. ThenF-brr--- brr---brr---brr---brr. My dream vanishes. Life in all its cold, stark reality faces me. Oh, that alarm clock! I gingerly stretch out one arm, grasp the alarm clock with an exclamation dangerously nearing profanity, and shut the annoying thing off. Peace. I try to delude myself into a state of happiness once again. 'APerhaps it's Saturday .... Why, yes, I'm quite sure it is. Didn't I fail in history yesterday and wasn't that Friday? Yes, it certainly must be Saturday. I know all the time that I'm just fooling myself but strangely enough it seems to comfort me. Pretty soon I feel happy again. Then-plump - bang - bump! The last vestige of my dream vanishes. I hear Mary-that's my sister-crawling out of lied. I lie there, trying to Forty-seven

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