Wellesley College - Legenda Yearbook (Wellesley, MA)

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i8 r H K LEGEN DA Swiltly revolved tlie year on its hinijjes of golden moments, Bearing as ever along toward the goal for which we are striving, Mailing us Juniors, and now must come the awful decision Whether to steer our course tlirough the rocks of Charybdis or Scvlla. Roth we cannot avoid, as in ancient times did the Trojans. She who fails not on the slippery rocks of F orensics must founder Against the jagged, sharp-cutting edges of pitiless Scylla. Hard indeed was the struggle, and sore were we wounded, yet bravely Reached we the farther shore, the blessedest haven in College. Proudly we bore in our hands the trophies secured from Charybdis ' Perilous ledges, or dug from the bristling caverns of Scylla. These we proceeded to l:)urn in accordance with time-honored custom Tlie eve before Tree-day. And tirst we chose a forest secluded. Down wliere the waters, gurgling, flow in a smooth sliding hollow. Where by a giant tree in the midst of shadv recesses The funeral pyre was erected. .And thither, ghostly and silent, Shrouded in white, and bearing aloft a glimmering candle. Late in the hours of the evening gathered the .solemn procession. Slowly into the fire we cast the battle-stained trophies. Groaning aloud, and murmuring doleful dirges of Latin. Swiftly the lurid frames shot up to the inky black heavens. Till, at our feet, naught remained but ashes, gray as the morning. SilenUy one by one in the deepening gloom of the evening. Softly we turned away, and were lost in the shades of the forests. Thus on the tifth of June the Trojans l)urnc(l their Forensics, Nor were their solemn rites disturbed bv the hovering Harpies, Whether because of morals, of ignorance, fear, or compulsion. Po.ssibly had they not yet the occurrence of Field-dav forgotten. How with the gallant Trojans they strove in a basketball c ontest, Trying which should become the ba.sketball ( hampions of Wellesley. Possibly had they not yet forgotten how they wt re beaten : Considered the tables alieady turned nor wished them turned yet farther. So through our Junior year we Trojans won glorv and honor, Growing in knowledge, anfl giowing nearer and nearer the Seniors. ' Twas one misty evening in June, and we sat sinking together, Out on the chapel steps. As usual was Nineteen ' I ' wo sitting Above on the highest stone, and directly below her, the Juniors. P ' inally came the hour when the Seniors their seats must relinquish. Then with one movement uprose the class of Ninteen Three Welleslev, While adown either side, in single file marched the Seniors, Singing a parting song for the spot they were leaving forever. A raindrop fell from the sky. In a body the Juniors marched slowly Up to the highest ste]). W ' e had taken the place of the Seni ' rs.

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NINETEEN THREE 17 This was also the year when entered a strange race of beings: Trojans never were they, but tlie Harpies that preyed on the Trojans. No matter what we attempted, there were they to disturb us. Heads had they like a common bird that swims in the water. Body and form like a girl. Their quack was Nineteen Four Scrogal, First heard on their Tree-day, the day after that eventful occasion When that mysterious robe designed for the chief of the Harpies Came to the power of the Trojans. Say, was it guile or compulsion Wrenched from the Harpies bold this precious, pricele.ss possession ? Neither; ' twas Chance, blind Chance. Unstained were the hands of the Trojans. And further, O Muse, relate whojirs to Pallas Athene Went and with hands uplifted be.sougiu that the dress be retiuned them. WMio but the Harpies? Nor did their Patron goddess refuse them. Promise was made by the Trojans that the robe should go back before morning, Yet this was not sufficient for the greedy soul of the Harpies, Scorning all honor and fairness, scorning the promises made them. Straightway, with keys in their talons, they swooped (alas, fickle Fortune!) Down on the room of our leader and stole the spade from the closet. T ii t did Nineteen Three Wellesley assuredly seek out the godde.ss ; T ie i, indeed, did she swear that never the garment should leave them Till in the hands of the Trojans the spade was safely reposing. Nor could the keeper of Justice and Concord withstand this petition. Once more she promised, and with her promised the class of the Harpies. What is a conscience? Where dwells it, if not among the Immortals? Or was it not in {he powe ' r of the goddess the spade to surrender? Certain it is that when evening came and the time of appointment, Naught did the promise of goddess or Harpy avail. In their stronghold Still the spade was reposing. Now truly did Nineteen Three Wellesley Peal forth her far-sounding warcry and gather her heroes together. All through the night we struggled the stolen spade to recover, While, with restraining hand, in our midst moved the Pallas Athene. Now this hero caught by her foot; now that one sent to her chamber. A.nd as in ancient times the gods entered into the contest, Aiding now Greek, now Trojan, so eagerly watched the Immortals Whether the Fates would give to our side or the other the victorv. Long raged the battle and fierce, but fortune lav with the Trojans, Till when the rosy dawn, the morning of Tree-clay appeared. Few of their cherished secrets remained to the class of the Harpies. Yet had we also suffered and both sides were weary of striving. Thus all the morning was spent in scheme upon scheme of surrender. Till after hours of debate we agreed on the following treaty. Worthy it was of the Trojans. That noon in College Hall Center Alone stood our leader surrounded by scores and dozens of Harpies; Alone received from their hands the spade and returned them the costume. Then she marched quietlv back to her room, and the insolent Harpies Watched her with shnme on their faces. The prophecy we delivered. ' Beware! The tables will turn. But scorn was their only answer.

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NINETEEN l H R E E 19 Thev sang. And thus ended the tale of die class of Nineteen Three Wellcsley ; Knded the tale, not the course, for a year still lies before them — Saddest of years, yet the best, a year of cares and of honors. (Horiously may the Trojans attain the goal set before them ; Fearlessly may they look forward into the opening future, True to all their ideals, true to their class and their motto, Loving their Alma Mater, the College Beautiful Wellesley. ON MY PENURY WHEN I consider how my cash is spent Ere half my days in this long month and wide. And that account book which I dare not hide Lodged with me useless, tho ' my soul more bent To balance up its entries, and present My true account, lest papa seeing chide : Oh, when will my next month ' s allowance come ? I fondly ask : but sad experience Beats down my hope, and cries : To keep from debt Either you work, or don ' t get into debt ! Who most Go off on bats, they get broke first : your state Is merited ; most hoard their income small And spend so wisely that no cent is lost : But ve who scjuander can but mourn, too late ! THE CRAVEN Y ESTER evening, bleak and dreary, while 1 pondered, tired and weary, ( )ver many a dull and stupid volume of scholastic lore. While I studied, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, And 1 heard a genUe rapping, rapping at my chamber door. Tis the borrower, I muttered, tapping at my chamber door, 1 will give her nothing more. For distinctly 1 remember she has borrowed since September, Borrowed from each patient member who has lived upon this floor. 1 am weary of this lending : I am tired of always sending ? )r provisions, and of wending my way down to Shaltuck ' s store. I will lend, no, nevermore.