University of California Los Angeles - Bruin Life / Southern Campus Yearbook (Los Angeles, CA)

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March lo.— One would tliink this a day nursery, instead of a school of pedagogy. An epidemic of measles has invaded our ranks, and the girls are rapidly succumbing. Etta Ayres led the procession, and Misses Day, Killian, Phillis and Parker followed suit— and goodness knows how many more will follow. I do hope Miss Dunn will remain sensible and steer clear of such foolishness. i Iarch 12. — ]Mr. Ronan, our composed man, read from the platform this morning. It was too ridiculous — everyone laughed. He had every known symptom of stage fright— just shook like an aspen leaf — and yet he vows that he wasn ' t scared — just lost control of his muscles. ] Ir. Ronan, though, never gets scared. He wasn ' t scared when he gave his little rote song, I suppose. Oh, no! He just blew and blew and blew the wrong end of the pitch pipe until he was purple, for the amusement of the class. No, he was not frightened — just lost control of his muscles. March i6.— ] Iiss Hagan has been out of school for two days, so Mr. Shepardson has been wielding the baton in her place. ' Sir. Shepardson ought to try his hand at leading Ellcry s band. He could easily do the Chefforrdelli act. All he needs is to learn a few more contortions, and he ' d be all right. He made that old baton cut up such capers, until the poor thing actually forgot it was just an old chewed pine stick, and had half a notion to believe it was real mahogany. We had a jolly time with Ir. Shepardson, and did some good singing, too. April 8. — Can it be that the millenium is near at hand? We Seniors actually had a jolly class meeting toda} — the first in the history of the organization. The picnic ' s the thing that did it. Everybody ' s going — even the boys. I do hope the poor things won ' t get lost in the crowd of girls. We ' ll promise to take good care of them, so I guess they ' ll be all right. April 29. — Everything is upside down at school. Dr. Small is sick, and we don ' t know what will become of us. ' e haven ' t our assignments yet, and it ' s time to change. The children in the Training School have been on the tear for a whole week. Every day they are expecting new Seniors, and as a result are simply irrepressible. We can ' t stand it much longer. That eighth grade seems to be wanderin g far and wide in the wilderness of grammar — here is another one of their unusual and original definitions : A preamble is a dense little bush. May 2. — We had a gay and festive time today. Went to Long Beach to drown our care and sorrow. Ellice Gill was simply delirious over the prospect, and insisted, when boarding the car, that we all sit on the sady shide. There is one question puzzling the minds of all the Seniors. Why did ]Mr. Garner pay just four fares? We had our fortunes told, and we girls are all wonderfully cheered up. Not one of us need despair, so the palmist says — there is hope for us all. I was simply amazed to see what musical ability some members of our class possess. Misses Ott, Haskin, Gasey and Ayers are rare performers on the comb. They made a complete orchestra, and played many popular and fetching airs, to which we tripped the light fantastic for fully twenty minutes. Six o ' clock was an infants ' hour to come home, but we were duty bound and had to. June I. — Some foolish meddler had the impudence to ask me why we Seniors owned the earth.

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singing a song with a good many ups and downs in it, a wee bit of a maid breathlessly exclaimed: ]My! I just have to make my voice wiggle when I sing that. The other day Mrs. Reeve was trying to teach the use of sit and set. She asked one of the children what he would say a farmer was doing if he had a lot of eggs and v as putting a hen on them. The boy correctly replied that he would be setting the hen. If he did that yesterday, what would you say then, Frank? I would say, said Frank, that the farmer seated the hen. These are but a few of the many things we hear in the Training School. Those children outshine an}- humorist I ever heard. Jan. 15. — Oh! the joy of being a Senior B! Life is strenuous and exciting just at present. We Senior B ' s would make fine politicians. William Jennings Bryan couldn ' t do better himself. We just lobbied the faculty right and left todaj and won out without any bribing either. We ' re feeling mighty proud, for it ' s quite a feather in our caps to be the first class to have a real szvell party. We have it all decided. It ' s to be at the Woman ' s Club House, and, as Dr. Small says, Won ' t it be illigant! I ' ll venture the Senior A ' s will fairly collapse when they receive our nifty little invitations. (We would like to have tzi ' o envelopes — but can ' t afford it.) The faculty has just been fine about it all, and are so interested. There ' s some pleasure in having a party under such circumstances. Dear me ! I do hope we can scrape up boys enough ! Boys ! ! ! I do wish the Normal had a sufficient supply on hand. It is such an everlasting bore to have to sail out in the highways and byways and gather them in every time we want any fun. Not that the boys are absolutely necessary for fun — but how would we girls ever get home? Jan. 23, 2 p. m. — Too dead tired to write much. The party was a sizzling success. The Senior A ' s thought it rich — so did we. We Senior B ' s are sure feeling proud. I do hope someone will do as well for us next year. Feb. 12. — Lots doing at school today. We wound up the old term, and at last are Senior A ' s. Seems to me I can just feel a difference in the very atmosphere. Everyone is noticing us more — even the teachers are beginning to — well, to respect us — just a little. We ' ll have to put on all our dignity now. I tell you, a Senior A isn ' t to be sneezed at. There is one great drawback to Senior A life. That is that abomin- able platform reading. ' Sir. Ronan reads next week. He says he isn ' t a bit scared. He is always so composed. I ' m going to try and cultivate a little of it myself — it so becomes one — a school teacher especially. P. S. — The most unheard of thing happened today. Josephine Harnett actually failed to answer a question. I wonder what can be the matter? I do hope she is not coming down with the measles. Feb. 26. — The training school children are still in evidence. One of the girls teaching grammar in the eighth grade got the following definition of syntax from a boy: Syntax is a tax on whiskey. Now, if that isn ' t good, logical reasoning, I ' d like to know what is. Another eighth grader gave the following startling bit of information today : The Arabian Knights is a collection of fairy stories taken from the Bible. Why send missionaries to China?

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I thought everyone knew that the mere fact of being a Senior A entitled one to that privilege. I guess, when we have four boys, we have a perfect right to walk with a proud and haughty mien. Then the pianist of the school is a member of our class. Seven of us are in the Glee Club. It has not been the custom heretofore to let Seniors remain in the Club. Miss Hagan couldn ' t dispense with our services, and we were entreated to remain. We are the first class to do masterpieces in drawing — the scrapbox also originated with us. We have given the best readings from the platform that have ever been given (Mr. Ronan ' s, particularly, is worthy of special mention). We are the first class to give an outside social function. We have a typical ladies ' man. Such a treasure we are sure no other class possesses. We have the finest presi- dent any class of the Normal School ever possessed. We never sl[ee{ through Methods. Mr. Carner is especially wide-awake and interested. The faculty, considering the respect due us, deliberately and unhesitatingly gave us a half holiday for our picnic when we asked for it. That proves conclusively that we are perfectly justified in acting as though we owned the earth. June 3. — Only three weeks more now, and we ' ll be through. I feel aa though I couldn ' t wait, but the time is so filled with parties and such doings that it will go only too soon. As the time draws near for tiie final parting I can ' t help but feel a certain regret. However, it is a bad thing to allow yourself to get sentimental — anyway, I feel a stirring within of my poetic muse — stirred to action, no doubt, by the mingled emotions of pain, regret, etc. — so I ' ll leave off with my feelings, and trust my restless muse to express all in the following. So sayeth the muse : The time has come, I grieve to say. To speak of many things. Oh ! all too soon our parting ' s here ; The happy days had wings. Our teachers all have labored hard — For sometimes we were slow ; We have not done the things we should Nor known what we should know. And yet for all — thanks to their skill— We ' re learned in goodly lore. In phonics, music, stiff school law, And other things galore. The Normal School ' s a turning mill— Like columns made from logs We came in, merry maidens all — We go out pedagogues. Alack-a-day ! Our school life ' s past Next year, by book and rules. Psychology and Methods, too, We ' ll teach our little schools. And may the festive young idea, Long kept before our sight, Not get from us poor workmanship. But learn to shoot aright.