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Page 22 text:
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12 WELLESLEY COLLEGE LEGENDA. oaks and alders along the banks are palace walls, close eyes and ears to all save the beauty of color and sound, and one may enjoy a Venetian Carnival, although it be called a Wellesley Float! Not all the June days are given over to carnival. There are long sunny afternoons when a certain woodland path allures along the shore of the lake, over a cai ' pet of pine needles and moss, and between slender birches and spicy hemlocks, whose branches are tipped vnth emeralds. It is very lovely at Tupelo Point. The water laps softly against the banks, insects hum and birds chatter among the branches, and occasionally happy voices break in upon the woodland sounds. Now a boat comes around the point, with a junior pulling mth long, steady stroke, while a care-free Faculty for the moment takes life easily among numerous cushions and under a capacious umbrella, or a still more indo- lent senior, with thoughts of final papers in the dim past, plays lady of leisure, while her sophomore friend tugs valiant- ly at the oar. In their stern a canoe swings around the point — no lounging here, for three youthful oarsmen paddle as if life itself depended upon reaching the head of the cove at a stated moment, and the lake, which only a minute before was so placid, is churned into fury. In the distance, by the opposite shore, is a fisherman ' s boat, lazily rocking to and fro, its three occupants as motionless as if carved of wood, save when an occasional jerk of the line shows that there has been an excit- ing ' T)ite. One idly wonders for what they are fishing, but is quite content to have them there, in shirt sleeves and broad hats, simply as a picturesque bit of the lake view. For back- ground there are the sweep of the lawn, the masses of rhodo- dendrons along the water ' s edge, the wooded hills, beauty of color and of form wherever the eye turns. Tupelo is not out of the world, but a five-minute walk in the opposite direction from College Hall takes one to a spot where there is not a sound save the chattering of birds and the whis- pering of the wind in the tree-tops. Trees grow straight and tall in the West Woods, with a glimpse of blue sky far above,
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Page 21 text:
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WELLESLEY COLLEGE LEGENDA. 11 wliite of their own narcissus, with an occasional butterfly of vivid red, purple, or yellow, outvying their namesakes in brill- iancy; patriotic sophomores in the stars and stripes; Anglo- Saxon freshmen, valiant warriors with shield and spear, min- strels in soft yellows and browns. No Mardi Gras under southern skies could be more charming than this winding line of black and white and brilliant color — no Roman amphithea- tre more beautiful. Who would not exchange the silken velorium of the Emperors for a sky of Wellesley blue or a royal carpet for the broad stretch of soft turf? Senators, knights, and vestal virgins might well covet the luxurious seats which the terrace furnishes, and delight in the stage set- ting of lake, trees, and flowers. Fairies dance among these same oaks on June nights and sleep on couches of the flowers and leaves of the rhododendrons, while Puck, mischievous sprite, flits among the trees in the moonlight, working confu- sion with his love charm and leading the Athenian lovers in fruitless chase. There the most lamentable comedy and most cruel death of Pyramus and Thisbe wring the heart of the spectator, lion roars as never lion roared before, and even the crannied wall is the wittiest partition that ever did dis- course. Farewell, sweet Fairies! You have made still fairer one of the loveliest spots of old Wellesley, and we shall long see among the trees the green, gold, and silver of fairy wings to recall the charm of one Midsummer !N ight ' s Dream. On the shore at Wellesley one may wander in June through Athenian woods, on the lake one may float into a Venetian Carnival. Eed, green, and white lights flash over the water, showing slender shells with sturdy oarsmen in white, boats gay with bunting and Chinese lanterns and luxurious with cushions, idly swaying at anchor near the shore, or joining the line of canoes and shells around the brilliantly lighted floats. The music of the band, softened by distance, the sound of singing over the water, the occasional guitar, and even a stray gondola, make it easy to imagine one ' s self on the Grand Canal in the midst of the color and song of pleasure-loving Venice. Forget the crowds of spectators on the shore, imagine that the
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