Wheaton College - Nike Yearbook (Norton, MA)

Page 21 text:

On the tennis courts, Science B-1 sees Mr. Miller bat out another set with Barbie Hol- den, while Mr. Garabedian waits his turn to show them how. In the pool and on the bas- ketball court, the entire faculty shows their stuff as amphibious aquabelles and happy hoopsters—Miss Barker, taking the prize, with the longest bathing suit or the loudest hair ribbon. At the faculty dining table, most of us are denied the conversations that keeps table talk at such an interesting level as to completely frustrate those scavengers who hope for their exodus and a second piece of harlequin ice- cream. Miss Gardner’s blushing and high- pitched voice accompanies her insisting, “But I’m not at all excited” as the diamond on her third-finger-left-hand sparkles at every mouth- ful. Miss Littlefield manages to look con- scientious even though her arrival coincides with the egg and muffin count. Miss Noyes’ is the mighty hand that tinkles the bell over the clatter of lunch for some announcement, and Miss Ross’ is the flighty giggle that rings out over all. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays brings a green Rhode Island car to Howard Street and leaves a glow of praise for Mrs. MacKen- sie’s talents in its departure. Over in Yellow Parlow, Dr. Lange answers the discussion plea of “Any questions?” with a round of facts and half-answers that can make or break a speaker. We hear Mr, Knapton’s liquid tones discuss current events in his best lounge manner. ‘There’s much to remember about the ways, as well as the words of our sage superiors— much that we mustn’t allow time to let us forget. Miss Oakie’s slow smile, Mr. Gerwitz’s cigarette holder, Miss Mason’s corduroy shorts, Miss Littlefield’s faithful friend, Miss Augur’s swirling hand at five-minute sketches, Miss Hill’s stories about her room mate, and Miss Barry’s Heath candy bars — all little pat- ent trade-marks, copyrighted by popularity and use, some finding no rememberance in class note, all noted perpetually in our mem- ories.

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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.

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CLASSROOMS EET Pagasus and Pan our campus sprites. Within Mary Lyon’s yellow walls they start the day. Where long ago our bustled grandmothers sat, Pegasus folds his wings and listens sleepy-eyed to Plato’s theory of immortality. Pan ascends the creaking stairs and joins a music class. He pipes gay tunes which mingle with the solemn hum of history and mathematics. Thus music and phi- losophy vie for Pegasus’ attention in the room below. When the bell penetrates the haze of professors’ words, Pegasus and Pan, now unconfined, play hide-and-seek among the classic statues which lend an air of antiquity to the hall. Or they may fly to some distant spot where the cigarette is king. Their next stop is the Science Building where strange gases fill the air and skeletons lurk in the closets. Pan and Pegasus hurry to the Chemistry Lab. where Pegasus uses hydrogen peroxide to keep his feathers white. They make up a solu- tion of chemicals, acids, bases, salts. A dash of nitric acid, a few grams of Stimmi, a liter of sulfuric acid, plus compounds of the other 96 elements are all mixed together and heated over a bunsen burner. Explosive? Perhaps, but these mystical figures are indestructable. ‘They frolic in the basement, pulling the whiskers of defenseless cats and hiding the parts of the inanimate human body in B-1. Scalpel in hand, they join the Zoology class. Pan probes deep beneath the shell of a lobster, while Pegasus closely traces the nervous system of the frog. Formaldehyde is everywhere, professors warn them against absorbing too much of it themselves. Tired of dissecting animals they move to the Botany department and begin to