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

Page 83 text:

, . ...- '. ' 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

Page 82 text:

,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

Page 84 text:

J: 'f 1 MY VIRGINIA MAMMY ------i Many years ago, during the time of slavery inithe South, a little darky was born on a Virginian plantation. When she was about seven or eight years old she became a servant to a little girl about her own age, whom she called her mistress. During the time they grew up the Civil War broke out, and slavery was abolished. At the age of sixteen the darky servant married, and she and her husband went to live on a farm of their own where they brought up about ten or twelve little pickaninnies. Soon hard times came: her husband died and her home caught fire and burned to the ground. She was forced to go into the city of Richmond to find work in order to support her little ones. One day when I was three or four years old and was in the park playing with my ball, a kindly-faced old negress came up and spoke to me. After question- ing me and finding out that I had no mammy and asking me where I lived, she bade me goodbye and promised to come and see me soon. About a week later, when I was very sick with bronchitis, our maid came to the door and told mother that an old mammy wanted to see her. Mother refused, but just then she was called to the telephone, Mammy slipped into the bed- room, and as I was crying she picked me up in her arms and rocked me until I fell asleep. Of course from then on she was my Virginia Mammy, and many times she has told me the story I have told to you. JANE CARRINGTON, Grade VI THE JUNGLE The jungle is a beautiful place, with its smoothly flowing rivers and mossy banks. Crocodiles bask in the sun or lie in the mud, waiting for food. Trailing vines and Creepers wrap themselves around trees. Shimmery butterflies float about with their gauzy wings. Huge trees, centuries old, stand in stately peace. Feathery birds with gorgeous plumage fly about or perch on tree tops. Tall grasses wave airily in the breeze. Ferns with their lacy patterns grow everywhere. Bright flowers add their color and beauty to the scene. Monkeys chatter in the branches. In the night the moon beams down on the jungle, flooding it with an unearthly strange silver light. Lions roar, and hyenas laugh. Sometimes a weird sound comes from nowhere-it seems. It is a native playing on his primitive guitar. Then you will feel that lonely feeling you will only know in the jungle. NANCY WHITING, Grade VI so