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

Page 33 text:

MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING Irene norl ' iiK-ier. ( iiic Ajiril iiioniiiii; ' . as the Facult} ' were leaviiis the clia])el. Miss I ' ark, an editinjj Senior of the Exponent. said to the Junior sitting in front of her. May I speak to you after chorus for a few minutes? ' liereupoii this said Junior shivered and shook, w-ondering what a Senior would wish to speak to her for. Perhaps to tell her that if she could not sing alto all of the time she had better get out of the alto section. . 11 through song prac- tice she conscientiously strove to hit only alto notes and kept her eyes fairly glued on Miss Hagan s baton. At last chorus was over, and Miss Park was saying, Now we want this year ' s Exponent to be the best that was ever ]nd)lished. And among other things, we hope to have some short stories. Now I want you to wTite a story. Will you? Why. I can ' t write! But I will tell the girls of my class, and perhaps they will send in something. Very well — tell the girls, if you wish; but I want you to write something, for I was told that you can write. Who told you that? Oh. never mind who told me. You just get your story in as soon as possible. The bells were ringing, so the puzzled Junior dashed down the hall toward the recitation room, lint instead of listening to Miss Dunn ' s explana- tion of the peculiar distinction between ' rebellion and ' revolution, she was thinking: Miss Park talks as if I am able to. and surclv will send in a

Page 32 text:

Lo ! they fovind their troul)les vanished, Their request liad not been unheard But the Faculty, the Mighty, Looked upon their woes with sorrow, Told them of the whys and wherefores That their trials had been so heav3% Told them how they longed to help tliem. How they had already helped them. Re-adjusting all their conferences ; Told them of their predecessors, And their hard and stony pathway ; Spoke to them sweet words of comfort, Alade the pathway seem more cheerful — And the future look more hopeful. J, TROXEL, S. ' 05. It has been said that a mother loves her most wayward child best because he has greatest need of her love. If this is true, and if an increase in love is proportional to the increase in waywardness, your devotion for your child of 1905 must almost amount to worship. This youngest child of yours has had ideas of her own on several subjects, and some of her ideas did not accord with your ideas as to what was for her own good, and what she would thank you for when sne reached years of discretion. She liked to dance : she liked to laugh and be gay ; she liked to skip through the halls ; she even liked to whistle. But you, knowing how detrimental such frivolity is to character building, put it down with kind, firm disapproval (especially firm). Occasionally she could not see all the privileges showered upon her, in the light you saw them. Naturally, at such times she chaffed and longed to be free from your be- neficent guidance. Sometimes she raised her voice in open protest or petition. Then she would wait anxiously for your decree. Her hopes would fall ; her hopes would rise ; then would come indifference. Meanwhile you made up your mind. If you re- laxed enough to compromise joy ran riot, and all her former love for you came rushing back. These are the kinds of experiences this 1905 child had while with you. Now that it is almost time for her to go the way of your other children, the remembrance of your severity is being lost. When she thinks of the friends she has made while with you, and how you really have made her strong to stand alone, it seems to her that these will be the memories to last. She can honestly say that now she has just as much respect and love for you, as she could have had if rebellic n had never held sway i ' l her heart.

Page 34 text:

winner. And I am the poorest one in our composi- tion class. What a predicament! I ' d just like to find out who told Miss Park that fairy tale. But the ridiculous side of the situation was evi- dent even to this Junior. So at noon she hurried out to the lawn with lier lunch, and, with sighs and much laughter, poured out her troubles. Her friends thoroughly appreciated the joke, for they had had the pleasure ( ?) of hearing several of her masterpieces read to illustrate ditferences in opin- ion concerning grammar and spelling. Girls, you would not laugh so much if you were me — I mean I. I wish I could write something. I hate to disappoint people, especially if they have such a good report of me as that Senior girl has. With more merriment, the girls dismissed the matter, but not so our Junior. She, at least took the situation seriously enough. Half hours at a time she would gaze vacantly into space. Her sleep grew restless. She kept out of the halls ; chose the darkest corner of tlie library in which to study, that she might not meet Aliss Park. But despite all caution, she did meet her, and was com- pelled to answer the dreaded question: How are you getting along with your story? The thunder- bolt had fallen. How was she to answer? Should she again declare her inability, and disappoint a Senior who smiled so reassuringly? No, I will write something, she silently determined, and said aloud, It is coming on quite well, thank you. Coming on quite well? Nothing ever came on worse — or rather so completely refused to come on at all. But she had burned her bridges behind her, and had no choice but to go on and produce some- thing — anything. If before her nights were rest- less, now they became tortuous with hideous dreams of being drowned in an ink bottle, or stabbed to death with a pen. She became quite desperate. In fact, she had decided to ask the minister ' s advice, when — an inspiration came I One Saturday morning she wrote and wrote — nobody knew what ; and put the result in the joke box — nobody knew when. She ceased to dodge Miss Park, but had a new trouble. Being very fond of sweets, our authoress dared not go down town, lest she be tempted to buy chocolates with the only thirty-five cents that was available to purchase a copy of the Exponent. But the desire to own a printed copy of her story triumphed and kept the thirty-five cents intact. For this Junior did trust A story so excellent Into the Exponent Go it must. The Exponent was out at last! Our friend was among the first purchasers. She hastily looked through the table of contents. It was not there.