Wheaton College - Nike Yearbook (Norton, MA)

Page 19 text:

THE STAFF for my sister. Although her engagement book is almost filled she eventually finds a space that fits both their times. It will be much fun to have my sister here for a weekend before she comes for learning next year. ‘Thanking Miss Townsend, I leave and go to make my last stop before lunch, the information desk, fountain of all wisdom. No matter who is there I am always sure of helpful advice, gladly given. Just as I leave the lunch bell sounds and the rush is on! I don’t know why we hurry so, but it may be that. Miss Lincoln’s efforts are well appreciated by the time lunch times rolls around. Miss ‘TOWNSEND Miss Noyes Miss DUNKLE

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DEAN BARKER H, look, it’s eleven thirty and I have an hour free to do () what I want! Bless Miss Noyes for leaving it there. I won- der how she and her staff can figure it all out so perfectly? The life of a registrar must indeed be hard. Of course, fewer Saturday classes would be nice. That reminds me, my weekend slip needs a certain person’s signature on it to make it legal. So, over to the administration building, commonly known as the “ad,” up the stairs into the office of Dean Barker. A cheery nod and a happy, friendly smile greet me as her secretary ushers me in. Business over, I spend some time talking to the dean. What a kind voice she has! On my way out I peek into Dean Littlefield’s office crowded, as usual, with Freshmen who have problems. Questions, questions, and more questions, how does she remain so calm all through them? Well, now that I have my permission legalized I can go look up bus schedules on the bulletin board. Downstairs into the court of temptation I march. My mail box winks a wel- come which I can’t resist, so over I go. Aha, something is in it! Oh turns my steps to that place where the necessities of life at , a bill, and a letter. But the lure of the bookstore counter Wheaton are sold, I dash to the end of the line to wait my turn to buy a notebook. Miss Goddard, trustee of all those articles, must be a mathematical wizard to figure up the cost of all this, and to do it correctly with patience too. All out of notebooks so down into the stock room she goes, never too tired to refuse desperate demands. Now, over to my original destination, the bulletin board. Gosh, there isn’t a bus listed that I can take, which means I take a trip up to information. On my way again, but I halt at the foot of the stairs. Mr. Fillmore has to be con- sulted about my radio that buzzes, my lights that don’t work, and my door that won’t close. Reassured by his promises to send some- one over, I trudge on. Three more stops to make. First the Bur- sar’s office to pay my bill, and with Miss Dunkle’s receipt clutched in hand, off to consult with Miss ‘Townsend about an interview 14 ADMINISTRATION Miss LItrLEFIELD

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FACULTY CCCHE takes good notes,” they say. Although S her reams of outlines and voluminous notes are a reasonable facsimile of the sage words that come from the mouths of our fac- ulty, in the space of time between the begin- ning of the period and the final bell, do they actually include those important little details that remain in our memories regardless of notebook memorandum. Here reactions to Outdoor MacInnes as he flings , a shivering line recalls a variety of open the back windows and makes the back row recall the pioneer spirit too realistically. Why the blank after Mrs. Boas’ remarks of scorn over “the little woman’’? Can it be that we hear the sound of the falling rose petals of our oft pretended femininity? Miss Jennings hitches her suit together, and between bells, accomplishes the feat of giving several pages of notes from one small white card, which, from her frequent references would seem to contain everything she said. Miss Chidsey reads her subject from the ceil- ing, the floor and some point outside the win- Let sweet smiles into Miss Amen’s words on the “dear little baby.” Does dow. us draw 16 anyone know if we’re supposed to review Miss Burton’s adventures while hostiling on the Canterbury Trail, or do you suppose that’s irrelevant to the characteristics of Chaucer? Never to be traced in notes are those cam- pus sights which serve memory as well. Who can forget the vision of the straight visored cap on Miss Barrows head as she hurries from the science building to the greenhouse, cud- dling a plant or two against her blue smock? Miss Evans sails serenely by on her bicycle and nary a hair is disturbed from its permanently wind-swept angle. Mme. Pinacoli’s bicycle now awaits her with one dark gentleman support- ing the handlebars in anticipation. Mr. Dahl enters the dining room. In the “Slow Boat to China” atmosphere of Marty’s, Miss Vickory blows smoke through another Miss Schonbar who is probably bemoaning the fact coftee-house conference with that although some students take a course in modern poetry, she is still at a loss over ‘T. S. Eliot. Miss McGarry is liable to shun the Inn’s breakfast and does her Sunday morning mar- keting in Pratt’s, gently returning to Everett anda repast of sugar doughnuts.