Wheaton College - Nike Yearbook (Norton, MA)

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THE COLE MEMORIAL CHAPEL Page eighteen

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Come blustery December mornings, the back- to-nature devotees of our faculty begin the morn- ing with a smile, a sprint, and an open window. At least the floors have their dust to keep them warm! Terpsichore, come aid us! Instill us with your grace! No matter how we aspire, we always ex- pire. Pity poor Plimpton! Her very foundations will always groan their protests against thunder- ous attempts at dance. Her stage and doors bear scars, evidence of those who leap too far. Her floors glow with cleanliness and glower with con- tempt for our dirty feet. From dancers to dust- mops! It must be quite a shock to innocent observers when a bevy of bodies comes tumbling from the windows of Mary Lyon. This is not a suicide squad, but only eager scholars on the way to another class. In spring, Apollo’s fans crowd the classroom windows, thrusting out pale extremities in an effort to soak up vitamin D. Dr. Sprague cannot put enough emphasis on the place of the sun- worshippers in our society. But— Despite our gripes and groans and shivers, We love these rooms, and thank the givers. Page seventeen

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TRADITIONS Mythology is a collection of the traditions in which a people embody their beliefs concerning their origins and heroes. The traditions of Wheaton are hardly myths, but there is something of the same solemnity found in the celebrations of the ancient Greeks and Romans. The stately procession of Founders’ Day would hold Caesar Augustus himself in awe, as white-clad under- classmen lead the black-robed seniors and faculty around the verdant campus, with the deep tones of the organ welling from the chapel. Founders’ Day depends upon Eliza Bayliss Wheaton for its heroic origins. CA’s annual Candlelight service depends upon the inspiration and spiritual realiza- tion of mankind in general, of the juniors and their freshman sisters in particular. On a soft fall night Diana may peer down from her place in the sky and peek through the chapel windows as a host of young women carefully light their candles from the great flame of truth, and then walk through the dusk to Peacock Pond where myriad lights are set afloat to the singing of hymns. Page nineteen