Wheaton College - Nike Yearbook (Norton, MA)

Page 16 text:

@ = me Pil a .

Page 15 text:

Sine

Page 17 text:

The Office HEN, in the closing days of September, Josephine College, a Tyrolean hat cocked over her curls and a mental question mark in her attitude toward college, clicks up the steps of the Administration Building to register as a member of the class of Four- Years-From-Now, she finds to her relief that all is not strange and alien. In this re- ception room she waited for her subfreshman interview with Miss Ziegler and counted the candles on the chandelier, and now here is Miss Ziegler herself—deep-voiced, tall, quiet- ly reassuring—her first Wheaton friend. Someone young with a friendly smile— “I’m Miss Shelley’’—gives her a handful of bewildering appointment cards and papers. “Would you like to register?’’, and the new Wheatonite, clutching her cards, follows an upperclassman down a short dim corridor. In a high-windowed room, stands a table with piles of little white cards and myriad stubby pencils. There is a desk, and behind it a book and a pair of horn-rimmed glasses, and a pair of eyes with an expression that is pseudo-stern. ‘‘Howdy.”’ Miss Young. More cards—typed and inked in red and blue and black—and the freshman follows her guide to find the room indicated by one of the cards—a room which is barer than bare. . . But before many weeks the bare room is littered with pillows and pennants and posters, the red-figured cards mean some- thing after all, and there are names to go with all the strange new faces. One day, however, she receives something of a jolt—a yellow card in her mailbox! “Will you please call at the office of the Dean of Freshmen to see Miss Littlefield?’’ What does it mean? A.P.2 Too much noise? Did that Sophomore really report her? With definite misgivings, Josie sticks the card in the edge of her mirror under the snapshot of her brother until the appointed day... . The girl who looked like a senior but wasn't, turned out to be Miss Albro. ‘You may go right in,’’ she says, and there is Miss Mirtam FeroniA CARPENTER Littlefield. Forgetting her misgivings, Josie is soon telling her all about her old school, her courses, and her maybe-major, and it isn’t terrifying at all. On a later day, she learns to the depletion of her allowance that the Petty drawings and the Dartmouth banner gooed on the wall and the Klieg lights in her study lamp go not unrequited, and a white slip—' To Wheaton College, Dr.’’—turns her footsteps to the Bursar’s door. She can peek in at Miss Dunkle in her little office while Miss Shep- ard receipts the bill behind a barred win- dow, and Miss Robinson and Miss Wood- ward type furiously in the outer office. Information is to the Wheaton girl as the Delphi Oracle to the Greeks. Mad, with a