University School for Girls - Castanon Yearbook (Chicago, IL)

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,fp ...1 '7 ' THE NIGHT The stars are silver, The moon is low, The world is lighted By its glow- As a lantern hung from The Door of the Sky To light the Pilgrim Passing by- And its rays are found In the birdling's nest, They have lulled a sleeping child to rest. And a comet shall Hame As it whirls fiercely by The moon all aglow in a cloud-drifted sky. SHIRLEY LOGAN, Grade VIII THE WATERLILY White on the black of waters, Pale as the lone white star, Splattered and splashed with the pale red-gold, As the sun that is rising afar. Softly the pine trees are sighing, Their shadows are long and deep, They nod, as the waterlily Is wakened from out her sleep. The dew that lies on her chalice Shines with a lustre bright- Perhaps a dying reminder Of the moon, the stars, and the night. For the stars are as pearls for their beauty And the water lilies that lie V VVhite on the black of the water Are stars dropped from out of the sky. SHIRLEY LOGAN, Grade VIII vs

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.,- ,.,T,..- LAND OF ST. PATRICK CAfter the manner of the Odysseyj Soon we drew near the island of Ireland, land of St. Patrick, where the hearty Irish dwell. All around us sparkled deep, green waters. From the distance the isle was shrouded in a deep, early morning fog. Then we watched with eager eyes the fast growth of the island until its shoreline became distinct. Terraced and sloping hills of patch-work-quilt fields rambled over the countryside. On one site was a decayed castle, once a strong fortress. Upon the proud boat all was confusion. Interested tourists hung over the rail, eagerly scanning the picturesque place, stewards, weighted down with bag- gage, hurried here and there, and those getting off at quaint Queenstown bustled with last minute preparations. Here at this emerald isle, land of the Irish, our boat dropped anchor. The tender, then came forth to our proud boat, bringing with it hearty Irish peddlers, hardened with toil. While the passengers and luggage were being stowed on the deck of the tender, these peddlers sold their wares, shouting in coarse, peasant voices. When all was in preparation aboard the tender, they hurried back. Our proud boat set sail while we stood on deck, watching the shores fast disappearing into the dusk until finally even the blinking lights had vanished. Thus ended our visit to the emerald isle, land of the Irish. LAURA JANE HANCOCK, ,33 OVERHEARD AT A DOG SHOW PLACE: Dog show. TIME: Morning. CHARACTERS! Mrs. Scottie, Mrs. Wire, Judges. Mrs. Wire- Look at my husband! Oh dear, he has gone to sleep! Oh dear! oh dear! What shall I do? He will never win a prize that way. Mrs. Scottie- Just see my husband-that smart looking Scottish terrier. He has won over ten blue ribbons. Mrs. Wire- How wonderful! Cinders has only one pitiful blue ribbon to his credit, but he is a devoted husband just the same.', Mrs. Scottie- As I have told you many times before, the Scottish terrier is a much smarter dog that the wire haired breed, and this just proves it. Mrs. Wire Cgetting angryl- Cinders can run and jump, but your lazy hus- band Cannot. All he ever does is pose for prizes. Mrs. Scottie fgetting angry alsol- I beg your pardon but my Laddie is not lazy, and he can run and jump as well as your Cinders. Mrs. Wire fas Judges enterj- Pst, Cinders-prick up your ears, my dearf' Mrs. Scottie- I never have to remind my husband of the Correct form. He always does the proper thing. Mrs. Wire- I am so nervous I don't know what to do. See how my paw trembles and feel how hot my nose is. Those Judges hardly looked at Cinders and see how much time they are spending over Laddie. Mrs. Scottie- Naturally they are particular when deciding on a first prize! Judge- The Blue Ribbon is unanimously awarded to Exhibit No. 13, the Wire haired Fox Terrier, Cinders . . . The Red Ribbon goes to Exhibit No. I, the Scottish Terrier, Laddie. Mrs. Scottie Cturning up her little black nosej- Congratulations, Mrs. Wire- and good day! NANCY BASTIEN, Grade VIII 77

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, . ...- '. ' THE FLOWER WEDDING One morning very early when the sun was just coming over the hill the trumpet Bowers blew three blasts, which in flower land means for all the inhabitants to assemble. When this had been done, a large orange chrysanthemum stepped forward and said: We announce the wedding of Miss Lovewell Rose to Mr. Goldenrod Glory on Saturday at midnight. You are all invited to attend. A wedding! Everything was in a hubbub and everybody was busy preparing for the eventful happening. At last the time arrived and everybody was assembled. Two bee messengers came first, followed by six sweet peas and six morning glories as bridesmaids. There were twelve bee ushers, one orchid maid of honor, one Carnation best man, and two baby roses for flower girls. The minister was a stately Jack-in-the- Pulpit. The orchestra of darning needles played the wedding march. The path was covered with moss and the flower girls sprinkled feathery shreds of milk weed on the air. The moon shone silver all over the garden as the bride and groom came down the path. The bride's dress was made of silken cobwebs and sparkled with dew diamonds. They knelt on a pillow of milk weed and the minister pro- nounced them man and wife. After the wedding, refreshments were served on toadstools. The presents were a set of lovely acorn dishes, a blue robin's egg filled with perfume, and a beautiful wardrobe of dresses which the spiders had spun for her. Then the bride and groom went to a water-lily boat drawn by a swan, and glided down the moonlit river on their honeymoon. LORAINE LOGAN, Grade VII SURFSIDE Surfside presents a lovely picture of the Ocean on a foggy morning, before the sun is up and when the surf is breaking over the beach with tremendous force. The spray blows in one's face and one can hardly see through the mist that rises. The waves look like towering green mountains which suddenly break with a thundering sound, rolling over and over on the hard, Wet sand, and thinning out into a pale green fringe of foam and bubbles. CARYL NICOLSON, Grade VII 79