Wallace School and Conservatory - Oor Ain Folk Yearbook (Columbus, OH)

Page 25 text:

OOR AIN FOLK We Meet Again I paused at the door of the cafe — weary and footsore — one morning in June, and I noticed the sign — The End of the Rainbow — and entered. By the desk sat the proprietress and by her side was a calendar with that day marked m red ink — June tenth, Nineteen thirty-two. I noticed a table laden with Bowers and shining silver, set with twenty places. Suddenly after chuckling to herself something about dear old Wallace — the woman looked up and I gave a shout of ]oy for I recognized Dorothy Fink with that same wreathed smile. I knew I would get a square meal for the sake of old timei. Dot, I burst out, what is your name now? — and are you the owner of this beautiful shop? Oh. yes. she said laughing, I am owner, and my name is still Fink. You know I never could see the men, so decided to paddle my own canoe. But you know I al- ways loved the girls and today have arranged for a meeting of our old class at Wallace. Each one has promised to be here and I am to furnish the dinner. So glad you came for you will enjoy seeing them even though you get a good many shocks. I confess I was very glad to get in touch with them again for since I had left my husband and family and joined a roaming band of gypsy fortune tellers, I had lost track of the folks I had known in other days. As we chatted, in walked Janice Bazler with three little boys like stairsteps, all clamoring for ice-cream. Yes, they were her own, not a kindergarten trio, and she was very proud of them. Beside her was Frances, the stiffest of old maids, pulling her skirts aside from the fingers of the little one. I hurriedly asked Dot how it happened that our lovely Frances had not been carried off by one of her lovers, and she told me that the one she favored was a foot too short and she never had the heart to annex him, so he died of a broken heart. I could hardly believe it, but Dot seemed to know all the news Soon an elegant limousine stopped at the door, and out leaped Virginia Rouget, the danseuse, and her artist friend, Harriet Taylora Bandana. Italian opera singer. They were surely birds of fine feathers, and the aforesaid kiddies almost forgot the ice-cream in their desire to touch the fair goddesses. I rushed up to X ' lrginia and asked about Donna, her old friend, and was greeted by a scornful toss of her crop which left ma speechless. Dot hastened to explain when she could that they had fallen out because at Virginia ' s contemplated sedding the groom got mixed up. forgot which was which, and put the ring on Donna. He never could tell them apart. Donna had been happy ever after and Virginia had turned to dancing as a fine art. Suddenly the three little boys gave a whoop and sallied out of the door. A machine was just unloading Emma Vivian Ross, her sister, and thirteen bull pups which she had brought for the childless girls in the bunch, to take home as a souvenir of the day. It certainly was generous of Emma ivian when those pups cost so much money and she has devoted her life to them. Each boy grabbed two apiece and the rest almost upset the tea-room. But Dorothy gave one of her wonderful laughs which cleared the atmosphere and the patrons resumed their seats. Then the funniest thing happened. A carry-all stopped at the door and emptied out little Liz. Hill and her six little white haired girls — all dressed in different colors, — and Donna — the husband snatcher. with eleven little kiddies, looking very shyly at Virginia. N ' lrginia ' s firey eyes melted when she saw the eleven and she came over and kissed Donna. Well. Dot had to set three extra tables for the babies they brought, and provided a ken- nel for the dogs. But Dot was always equal to the occasion. 21

Page 24 text:

HARRIET TAYLOR Columbus, Ohio (Graduating in Vocal Music) Oh! Who can tell how hard it is to climb The steep where Fame ' s proud temple shines afar. 20

Page 26 text:

OOR AIN FOLK Then Clara drove up in lier Packard, ni an elegant dress and with beaming smile, and had her chauffeur unload twenty five-pound boxes of candy which she had brought as souvenirs. Her husband was a prominent candy merchant in New York, and she spends the winters at Long Beach. Emma Vivian tried to give her one of her dogs but Clara said she had just bought a horse of Audrey and could not hold another pet in her heart just then. Audrey turned up late, last train in from New York, looking too sporty for words in a bright green riding-habit and hat, and I learned to my horror that she was a race-track owner. She had given up her literary tendencies as soon as she got to New York, and gone wild over the race. One would never have recognized the shy little maid once at Wallace. I thought another shock like that would kill me, but I lived through several more. Life IS indeed full of irony. Here was our gay little Elizabeth Tuttle, once master of all she surveyed, marched up to the door by the grouchiest old man you ever saw, and they said it was her husband. He told her how long she could spend with us, she meekly bowed m submission to his will, and entered so shyly, I hardly knew her. Folks said she got cross at her first love and in a fit of anger married this old miser and had rued it ever since. He adored her but was jealous of her and would not let her out of his sight. Poor child — . Sara Watts was professor at Wellesley College, and Margaret Dickerson a lec- turing feminist; Nelle Schneider, the head of a large dressmaking establishment in Pans known as Mme. Snydaire. Geneva was on the vaudeville stage doing acrobatics with Anne Tilley, and Betty Schaaf was running a magazine with the help of her third hus- band. A lovely blond entered the room, rather fat and weighed down with diamonds. I asked someone if she belonged to our party and Dot hastened to introduce her. We all held our breath. It was Betty Boyd Brentingham, a very rich widow who had been comforted quickly by the seances upon which she had always depended. She had lost her husband out of their private airplane when driving it recklessly, and her hair had turned white over night. Then she gave it the henna rinse and sunbeam suds, and the color was quite unusual. I asked her how on earth she got so fat and she said that after she started to get up for breakfast, she gained a pound every day. She was quite strik- ing in black, and had recovered her lost cinicism. Just as we started our second course, in walked Miss Lou and Miss Gee. our onetime teachers. They were just in from Naples, as they conducted tours every other winter for the benefit of the progeny of Wallace School, and on one of the tours Miss Gee had married a French opera singer. He assisted them with the tours and spent every other winter in America. We were disappointed not to see him, but Dot said he was just fine and Miss Gee was just as crazy about him as she always said she wouldn ' t be. .After the meal we adjourned till 1942. Signed, H. S. F. — one-time teacher. 22