Low-Haywood School Yearbook 1948

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SEIZE THE OPPORTUNITY

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THE HALO Volume XXXVI

JUNE, 1948

Number I

Louise Hawkins '48, Editonn'Chicf

Associate

Editors

Sue Rockwell ’48

Ann Williams ’48

Art Editor

A d r c r 11 ,s 1) I g M a i m g e r

Barbara Goerke ’48

Jane Scott ’48

Business Mattager Margaret Hoyt, '49

Faculty Advisor

Miss Evans

Senior

Kejoresentatives

Katharine Elliott ’48

Catherine Henderson ’48

Barbara Thomson ’48

Junior Rel-iresentative Rosemarie Deluca '49

Senior pictures by Ing - John — Stamford

Class and activity pictures by "Tommie” — Greenwich.

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"God made a heart of gold, of gold, Shining and sweet and true;

Gave it a home of fairest mould Blessed It and called it you."

We affectionately dedicate this, our yearbook to Mrs. Ann Hart, our head mistress, who in her first year at Low-Heywood has shown us the way to goals far higher than we had set for ourselves. We leave our fondest wishes for her success with a secure feeling that many girls will profit by her complete understanding.

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Seize The Opportunity

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As Freshmen, when the present Low-Heywood began, we could not visualize what would happen in the next four years. School standards were not at the height we wanted: school facilities such as library and athletic fields were Incomplete.

However, we determined to make the best of what we had and to make improvcments where we could.

With this in mind we chose our motto, Seize the Opportunity". The four years have passed, and now as we look back upon them, we realize that everyone connected with tihe school has tried to make the most of each opportunity. The results have convinced us that the only way to succeed in life is to 'seize the opportunity'.

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We are about to start on the most decisive phase of our lives, whether it be going to college or entering upon a career. The rehearsals are beginning for the roles we have to play in a disrupted world that needs our• help. We can no longer lead our casual existence. It is imperative that we take our cue and accomplish a serious performance.

In striving to play our parts worthily, we shall do well to not houses finely roofed. remember that it is "not roofed, or the stones of roads well-mended, nay not canals and dockyards, that make the city, but men able to use their opportunity."

opportunity knocks but once We refuse to believe that "opportunity once". Opportunity knocks on the 1 . door each day and if we are alert, we shall recognize the opportunity that ___ i_._i talents, _i____ and______________ _ must■ find out what'■ our trend is suited to our individual seize it. We ". The years before an average girl marries are short, is and develop it to the full. and we should make the most of them, cultivating our faculties through opportunopportun­ ities so that we may be helpful, intelligent additions to our communities. Putting .................... ' ■ the.............................. off until tomorrow can become a fatal habit, rendering mind Inactive,.We must look at each new day as a fresh beginning, another chance to 'seize the opportunity'.

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When sorrow comes into our Ilves — as it comes to nearly everyone's — we should be aware not only of the healing power of time, but the opportunities to recover.

Friendship will sustain us, if we care enough for our friends, there will be other opportunities to fill our lives, to keep them active and busy, and with God's help, the loss, however great, can be borne.

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In our every day Intercourse with our companions, our motto serves as a salu­ tary reminder. We make a cutting remark, perhaps, and instantly regret it. The opening comes to make an apolcgy but we are too proud to take it — and a friendship is broken. The opportunity to ask forgiveness should be seized and not aliowed to slip by. So in sorrow or in joy let us remember our days at Low-Heywood Low-1 and take strength from the remembrance of the good opportunities which1 came to us then, and which we seized upon to keep with us for all time.

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1944 - 1948

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ANN DOGGETT WILLIAMS

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Main Occupation: talking about Johns Besetting Sin: her long hair Saving Grace; her femininity

Noted for: her chocolate milk

Is: dependable Will be: hotels manager's boss

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Favorite saying: "like mad"

Class President '48 Student Council '48 Lambda Delta PI '47, '48

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Christmas Pageant '48 Varsity Hockey Team '45, '46, '47 Varsity Basketball Team '46, '47, '48 Captain Basketball Team '48

Class Hockey Team '44, '45, '46, '47

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Class Basketball Team '45, '46, '47, '48

Varsity Baseball Team '46, '47 Black Teams '45, '46, '47, '48 "Halo" Board '47, '48

"Hey-Day" Board '48

Dramatic Club '45, '46 Varsity Lacrosse Squad '46

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Glee Club, '45, '46

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KATHARINE LOUISE ELLIOTT

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Stamford, Connecticut 1936 - 1948 "What wisdom can you find

that is greater tJ^dn }^i'ndness”

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Saving Grace: good nature Noted for: Bill

Is: domestic Will be: married first

Favorite saying: "I grant you that"

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Chairman of Lost and Found ‘48 Cheer Leader '47, '48

Dramatic Club '45, '46

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Lacrosse Squad '46 Christmas Pageant '48

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BARBARA POWERS GOERKE ri'i-rx

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1945 - 1948

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Saving Grace; personality

Noted for; her humor Is; athletic

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Will be; another Rembrandt

President of A. A. '48

Treasurer of A. A. '47 A. A. Board '47, '48 Lambda Delta Pi '46, '47, '48 z®

Varsity Hockey Team '45, '46, '47 Captain Varsity Hockey Team '47

Varsity Basketball '46, '47

Favorite saying; "Oh, Louise”

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Varsity Baseball '46, '47, '48 Class Hockey Team '45, '46, '47

Class Basketball Team '46, '47, '48

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Captain Black Team '48

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“The Price of Wisdom is Above Rubies

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Main occupation: eating cough drops in class

Besetting sin: incommunicativeness

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Saving grace: amiability

Noted for: her marks

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Hmmmm?

Sophomore Class Treasurer '46

Student Council '47, '48 Lambda Delta Pi '46, '47, '48 dee Club '45, '46, '47, '48

Spring Festival, '48 ?^(35

Blue Team '45, '46, '47, '48

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Editor of "Hey-Day", "Halo" '48

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1946 - 1948

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Police Station Besetting Sin: blushing Saving Grace: her smile

Noted for: blind dates

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Will be: a psychiatrist

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Class Treasurer '48

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Halo B»ard '48

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ELIZABETH ROCKWELL

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“Wisdom she has a7id to that wisdom courage, Temper to that and unto all success. "

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Main Occupation: Being busy

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Besetting Sin: Talking too fast Saving Grace: her friendliness Noted for: her "Art"

Is: efficient Will be: coach of U. S. Olympic teams

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Favorite saying: "Let's get on the ball

President of Student Council '48

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Lambda Delta Pi '45, '46, '47, '48 CIce Club '46, '47, '48

Dramatic Club '45, '46 "Hey-Dcy" '48

"Halo" Board '45, '^6, '48

Alliance Francois '47 Varsity Hockey Team '44, '45, '46, '47 Varsity Basketball Team '46, '47, '48

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Blue Team '45, '<6, '47, '48

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Class Basketball Team '45, '46, '47, '48

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JANE HAMILTON SCOTT "ScoHy”

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Main occupation: talking

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Noted for: her love of basketball Is: gullible Will be: the perfect co-ed

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Favorite saying: "Honestly".

Lambda Delta PI President '48 Lambda Delta Pi Vice-Pres. '47 Lambda Delta Pi '46, '47, '48 Varsity Hockey Team '45, '46, '47

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BARBARA WADE THOMSON

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Main Occupation: going away (s^

Besetting Sin: her innocence Saving Grace: dimples Noted for: her Ford

Is: cute Will be: an old maid

Favorite saying:

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Glee Club President '48

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Lambda Delta Pi '45, '46, '47, '48

Varsity Hockey Team '45, '46 Class Hockey Team '45, '46, '47 Class Basketball Team '45, '46, '47, '48

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Freshman Class Treasurer '45 Dramatic Club '45, '46

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Spring Festival '48

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Class Song Of ’48 ( Sung to the tune of "Far Above Cayuga's Waters" )

Hall and praise our Low-Heywood,

Cheris'h ever long

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Honor, love and true devotion All to her belong.

Maroon and white, maroon and white

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Onward through the fight;

Striving to keep standards great.

Class of '48.

'Seize the Opportunity'

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Motto that we love,

It will lead us through the years

Till the goal is won.

Maroon and white, maroon and white Onward through the fight; Striving to keep standards great.

Class of '48.

Through the years memories will

Linger In our hearts

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We will put our trust in thee

Carry out your parts.

Maroon and white, maroon and white Onward through the fight; Striving to keep standards great,

Class of '48.

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To The Seniors

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Oh, class of forty-eight, we'll keep Your glorious memory in our heart.

The roots of friendship, planted deep Will never die, although we part.

The President of '48 Is skilled in each and every sport.

Ann's future causes no debate.

When she is judged by our report.

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A master of athletic feats, And Student Council head Is she; Our "Susu" shuns no task she meets And shines with personality.

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She helped each team to victory.

As cheering leader in each game.

The head of Lost and Found is she And Kay is her distinguished name.

As President of our "A. A." And Captain of the hockey team Artistic Bobbie leads the way.

Supported by our high esteem.

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Louise, our Editor-in-Chief, In scholarship can ne'er be beat.

Success she'll have is our belief; We've found her friendship quite a treat

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We'll miss in future weeks and days Our Cathy's prowess at the goal.

Her laughter and her winning ways Won '.'.C.i our affection, heart and soul.

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The President of L. D. P. In social work has proved her skill.

Her smile and wit will always be The symbol of Jane Scott's good will.

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The Glee Club girls were led to fame

By Barbara Thomson's guiding hand.

Her managing has brought her name Respect and honor In the land.

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The Sophomores

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’48 In ’58

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(The scene is a dark, narrow, dingy street in lower East Side, New York. Cheap music blares out from neon-lighted, glass-fronted bars. A lean cat hungrily explores a garbage can, right center. /\ A figure lurches unsteadily out of a doorway, nar­ rowly missmg Hawkins, who enters, down left.)

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Hawkins.

(Soliloquizing) I ought to be getting near It soon. What a place to choose for a reunion!

It's so dark I can hardly read the directions, (peers at paper) I'll try getting under this neon sign. (Looking up at sign) Well, well, Scotty's got her name in lights at last! She used to. be such a good actress at school, but I never thought It would come to thjs^._^What does it say? Oh no! SCOTT'S BAR AND GRILL. LADIES INVITED. Looks like a pretty unsavoury hole, but I guess I'd better go in.

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(As Hawkins goes through door, the backdrop is raised to reveal a third-rate restaurant, with maroon and white check tablecloths on small deal tables — a bar — and a juke-box.)

Hawkins.

(Looking around with Interest) H'm! Maroon and white! Scott always was loyal to the old School. She's got "Seize the Opportunity" above the Bar — that's a new slant on our motto, (catches sight of barmaid, who has her back to audience) H'm, give me a stinger. Kid! I wonder why she doesn't hear. What a frizzed-out blonde! From the back, ex­ cept for that hair, she looks like Scott.

(Barmaid turns, revealing herself as Scott) Why, it is! I couldn't mistake those pigeon-toes.

Scott.

Weasel!

Hawkins.

Scotty!

Scott.

come in here, You've got to meet my husband.

Hey, Sir Cedric, (aside to Hawkins) Don't be surprised when you sec him. He's a little heavy — only 250 pounds, though. He's lost since lost year — too much worry. (enter short, fat, swarthy Greek) Weasel, meet Sir Cedric Constantinopoulos, my latest.

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Pleased ta meetcha.

Scott.

Weasel, you're the first arrival. Wait till you meet Sue-Sue. (voice heard chanting outside, "Hall to thee, blithe spirit!" Enter Rock­ well, in ballet costume, executing complicated ballet steps)

Sue.

Hello, girls, how do you like my new ballet-slippers?

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Pretty neat, eh?

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I thought you went in for ice-hockey?

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Hawkins.

Say, why the get-up?

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Sue.

Yeah, I played with the Rangers for a couple of seasons but was barred I always was Then I took to the stage. for unnecessary roughness.

VERSATILE, you know.

Scott.

Tell Weasel about your brilliant scientist husband, Sue-Sue.

Sue.

Oh, him! We don't speak ever since he split the molecule. He flatly ' ' But you're not refused to name the process the Rockaloff after me..

What are you doing with that Pocket Radio? listening. Weasel. ' (Hawkins fiddles with dial of Radio she has placed on table)

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Hawkins.

It's time for Jean Sablon.

Scott.

You know what a weakness Weasel always had for Frenchmen._ Well, it's a mania with her now. She swears she'll go mad if she can't hear him.

(A rattle, crash, bang is heard from without)

Sue.

My gosh, she's still got it!

Hawkins.

Who?

Sue.

That's Thomson and the old Ford. What else would make such an un­ godly noise?

(Thomson, magnificently arrayed, slinks in)

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What?

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How are you?

Thomson.

My dears, too divine to see you.

Scott.

Fine and dandy. You look like you've been doing pretty well for your­ self. What is that coai?

Thomson.

Darling, don't you know?

Park Avenue now.

Hawkins.

Pardon me for asking, but why are you still driving that pile of junk?

Thomson.

You are speaking of the car I love. I keep it for sentimental reasons.

Of course I could afford a Rolls-Royce but the old girl has such happy memories. I just take my ermine lap-robe along so I won't get my feet wet.

(A voice from laudspeaker.

SURGERY DR. HAWKINS CALL SURGERY. PAGING DR. HAWKINS . . . etc.)

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Urgent case.

Excuse me.

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It's half sable and half mink.

I'll be back. (Exit)

I'm living on

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Looks like we have another arrival. (Door opens to reveal a vision of blonde femininity, all frills and furbelows)

Sue.

Who s that powder-puff? I can t see Its head for the ruffles. curls, you'd think it was Shirley Temple.

All

(flabbergasted) Goerkie!

Goerke

(disdainfully) My name is Barbara.

All

(groan, gasp, etc.)

Goerke.

I’ve changed a bit. Kids, as you see. I got tired of living on the Reser vatlon. The outdoor life was not for me.

Thomson.

So what did you do?

Goerke.

I went to Hollywood and then I met him, Pegory Greek, the movie actor.

Scott.

Really?

Goerke.

It was love at first sight.

Sue.

Yes, yes, go on.

Goerke.

He liked frilly females, so I changed my style to suit his taste. We got married and are living happily ever after. At first I thought I'd suffo cate but now I'd be lost without ruffles.

(Children's voices, shouting raucously, are heard outside)

Scott.

(looking out of window) It isn't time for school to be out. What's that convertible drawing up here full of kids—dozens of them?

Looks like the circus.

(Henderson appears in the doorway)

Thomson.

Why, Henderson, whose kids are those? married.

Hend.

I'm not.

(Uncomfortable pause) (Re-enter Hawkins, wiping her brow. She is followed by a dowdy stud­ ious female, wearing unbecoming clothes, lisle stockings, oxfords and glasses)

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Hawkins.

Whew! That was a tough case. injuries, too.

Hend.

What, are you a doctor?

Hawkins.

Yes, a horse doctor ... As I was saying, when I was so rudely interrupted, it was a terrific case, Blood all over the place! Had to probe five times before I could . . .

Thomson.

Pst!

Scott.

Pardon me, madam, is there anything I can do for you? — And please don't put that brief case on the table cloth.

It's making it all dirty.

(Silence)

Thomson.

Who are you anyway, and what do you want?

Kay.

I'm Kay Elliott.

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Compound fracture—difficult internal

Who's that standing next to the table?

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She looks familiar.

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Speak up, woman.

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Don't you know me? (sA

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Kay.

Oh, I have no time for him any more.

Scott.

Greek!

Kay.

Yes, Im a Greek t^reek professor now at < the touring the world a couple of times and■ In love with a statue on the Acropolis Then I came back to the good old U. S.

What's happened to you? Where's Bill?

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I'm so busy with my Greek.

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University.

I got tired after decided settle down.

I fell ' ■ • ; to_________ L............... i-.i and decided to learn Greek.

A. and got a job teaching it.

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Scott.

(almost speechless, for once) Well, what do you—know—about that!

Voice.

The Purple Flash! (fanfare of trumpets) (Enter a huge, muscular female in tights)

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It's Williams!

Look!

Sue.

Oh, no! You must be mistaken. Williams was never that husky. look at those muscles bulging under her tights.

Just SS.

Hend.

Yes, yes, it is.

Wrestler."

Williams.

Hi, delight, wanta fight? (I'm a poet and I know It)

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See that sign around her waist__

"Williams, the Lady

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Since when has all this happened?

Thomson.

Hello!

Williams.

Oh, you want my history, eh? Well, I went to college, as you ail know, and there, one day, while I was reading r some of the world's great llterature, I ran across a magazine article.

It was fate, I tell you, that made me read It. "Are you thin, tired or -listless?" it said. "Under­ nourished, maybe? Do your muscles sag? If so, see Charles Atlas. He's the Man for you. you." Well, I said, here's my chance to get back on my feet again. Maybe I'd better go and see him. So I went.

Sue.

And then what happened?

Williams.

Where are your eyes, woman? He made a man of me. Just look a! those biceps. I'm the champion wrestler, male or female, of the world.

That reminds me, I have a bout this evening. Would you all like to come? We could go some place afterwards and talk over old times.

Scott.

Pardon me for interrupting, but my customers are clamoring for some entertainment. Would you help me move this table over here to make room?

Williams.

Say, I have a great idea!

Thomson.

What?

Williams.

Why don't we all go into business together?

Scott could sing and dance, Rockwell could do some acrobatics, Henderson could direct the junior chorus, I could be the bouncer, Hawkins could do the necessary surgery, afterwards, Goerke could . . .

Sue.

Say, that's a neat idea!

All.

Ok. (Curtain goes down as the "great eight" start shoving tables to make room for their act) THIS IS THE END OE A PERFECT REUNION, BUT NOT THE LAST OF FORTY-EIGHT.

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Senior Statistics (by vote of the Seniors)

Most Loyal

.................. ..............

Elliott

Best Sport .......................

Thomson

Best informed

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.... Rockwell

Most artistic ..................

Soerke

............................

. . . The Sen ior Class

Funniest

Most ambitious ...........

Most vague..................

Most versatile ................

Most conscientious ...

Quietest

.........................

Most athletic................

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Hawkins

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. . Henderson

Rockwell

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........................ Thomson

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Nobody

. . Goerke, Rockwell

Noisiest ............................

. .The Senior Class

Most reliable ..................

........................ Williams

Most obliging ..............

Most attractive ...........

Cutest .....................

Most sentimental .........

Most gullible ..................

Most serious . ...................

Wittiest .........................

Best groomed ..............

Best natured ..................

Most outspoken ..............

Most fickle.......................

Most easily embarrassed Most temperamental . .

Most talkative ..............

Most feminine ..............

Most musical ..................

Most vivacious ..............

Most graceful ................

Most stubborn ................

Happiest .......................

Married first ..................

Most considerate ...........

Most modest ................

Teacher's worry ...........

Most likely to succeed Best school spirit .........

Most popular ................

Class Grandmother , Most optimistic ..............

Most pessimistic ......

Most sarcastic................

Best Bluffer Neatest .............

Favorite Male

............................ Elliott ......... Scott, Williams Thomson, Henderson .............................Elliott ........................... Scott ........................ Hawkins . . Goerke, Rockwell ......... Scott, Thomson ........................ Hawkins . . . Henderson, Scott .................... Henderson .................... Thomson .................... . . Rockwell .................... Williams . Thomson, Williams ........................ Hawkins .................... Rockwell .................... Thomson .............. Henderson The Original Eight .................. ... Elliott ...................... Elliott ........... Hawkins . . Henderson .................... Goerke ...................... Rockwell ...................... Rockwell . Thomson .... Seniors .................... Rockwell . . Scott Williams Thomson .... .. Donny

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Reincarnation of ’48 a

Elliott

. . a paintbrush

Goerke

Hawkins

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a lunchbox

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ain't cornin' back

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cigarette

. a basketball

Rockwell

a comb

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money

Thomson

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Williams

hockey puck

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The Perfect Senior

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(by vote of the Seniors)

Eyes

................................

Eyelashes

.......................

Eyebrows

................

.........

Teeth

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Scott Hawkins Hawkins

Mouth

Williams . .

Thomson

Figure . . . .

. Thomson

Complexion

, . . . Elliott

.........

Rockwell

Hair

Hands rk-

Smile 'XL')

Henderson

N ose

Dimples

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Scott

Legs

Voice .

Laugh

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Henderson

Thomson Elliott

Goerke

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I t The Last Will and Testament of the Senior Class WE, THE class of the year of our Lord, one thousand, nine hundred and fortyeight, and of the Independence of the United States, one hundred and seventy-two,

being of sound mind and sound body, do hereby set forth our last will and testa­ ment, and do hereby bequeath to our successors, the class of one thousand, nine

1

hundred and forty-nine, all good fortune, good counsel and a good year.

I

To Mary Cramp we do will a sunny day to go with her disposition To Nancy Crawford we do will the heart of Texas

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To Rosemarie Deluca we do will shorter working hours To Leda Freid we do will our vote for Miss Vogue of 1948 To Ruth Goerke we do will a horse to go prom-trotting

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To Margaret Hoyt we do will the strength to hold high our traditions To Elise Mejia we do will the credit she deserves

To Sandra Woodworth we do will an introduction to John Powers

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Soap Opera With the Seniors ELLIOTT . . .

......................

GOERKE .

Plain

Bill

Joan Armstrong, the All-American Girl

HAWKINS . thi-

Just

................

................................ The Shadow

HENDERSON

............................. The...Right to Happiness

ROCKWELL

............ ......

SCOTT .........

THOMSON WILLIAMS

CLASS .........

The Guiding Light

........... ................................................Ma

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Barbara

Perkins

Faces Life

............... Johns' Other Wife ...................................... Life Can Be Beautiful

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CAN YOU VISUALIZE OUR TEACHERS IN THE FOLLOWING ROLES ?

MRS. HART as Portia in the Merchant of Venice . . . saying &3«a.

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"Earthly power does then show likest God's When mercy seasons justice."

MISS HORNE as Miss Susan Throssel In Quality Street . . . saying

"What is Algebra exactly?

Is it those three-cornered things?"

MRS. CLAFLIN directing the technicolor in Forever Amber . . . saying "Keep it free and loose."

MISS CLARK as Cordelia In King Lear of whom it was said "Her voice was ever soft, gentle and low, An excellent thing in woman."

MISS EVANS as Isabella in Measure for Measure . . . saying

'We cannot weigh our brother with ourself."

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MLLE. GEMOT directing the picture The Razor's Edge and coaching the song

"Mam'selle" "No heart ever yearned the way that mine does For France."

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SENORITA SCOTT as a night club crooner at the Ccppacabana singing

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MISS GROOM as Lauren Bacall in To Have and Have Not . . . saying

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"If you want me just whistle".

MRS. STISSER as Dame May Whiffy In Arsen'c and Old Lace saying:

"To a decanter of elderberry wine, I add a

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of cyanide."

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MISS REARICK as the Admirable Crichton, saying

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"Beneath this simple exterior are concealed a

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very sweet nature and rare womanly gifts."

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Frag;ments From My Autobiography >

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I was a comparatively quiet child, but when I got mad (and I do) mean enraged), instead of going Into tantrums, as most r children do, I would toddle to the door with uncertain steps, epen It, and solemnly spit. This seemed to be my way of expressing utter contempt for everything and everyone,,1 assure you I use my vocal chords now.

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My poker-face became proverbial In the family. To shake this record of absolute facial Immobility, my mother resolved to have; a picture taken of me with at least a glimmer of a smile. In an attempt to achieve the impossible, Underwoods sent their best child-photographer to our house. He was a chubby, little man who prided himself on his power of taking charming child-studies, First, he proceeded to pose me with my Teddy-bear, and then, he embarked on the ordeal of trying to make me smile, for I was staring at him with the grim expression of a Gorgon.

"Smile," he coaxed me winningly.

No response.

This open'ng shot was at two o'clock in the afternoon. By four o'clock, he had twisted his face into every possible contortion and exhausted every known device.

My mother and uncle were rolling on the floor with laughter. I still stared at him.

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Finally, he acknowledged himself beaten.

Wiping his brow with a hopeless expression, he packed up his equipment and prepared to depart, defeated. Lady, he declared in a tone of finality, "you have asked me to do the Impossible."

Then, and not till then, a peal of merry room. The spell was broken. I smiled! *

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childish

laughter

rang through the

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I lead a completely normal life. In my short life-time, I have had a few ter­ rifying experiences. These stand out more strongly because they happen so seldomly. : I can still to this day remember every incident of one horrible night.

A group of us had gone to the late show one evening. IUsually we came straight home, but on this occasion we had stopped en route for something to eat.

When we finally started toward my house, It was nearly one o'clock. As; we drew road, and' as we approached the near home, we noticed streams of water In in the 1' ' , , house, it seemed as if all the lights were turned on.

I became worried. What could have happened?

It was most r----- unusual ---------- for our house to be ablaze with light at that late hour. Thon as we turned Into the drive-way, I gave a gasp of horror, The lights In the house were not on; in fact, there were no lights to be turned on.

Huge searchlights were trained'1 on our house, and, as I followed their beams, all I saw was a charred mass of timber. My first reaction was a feeling of great em­ ptiness, for the home I had lived in was gone. Luckily, I didn't have a chance to worry about my family, for there they all were, watching the firemen direct their

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streams of water cn the smouldering timber. *

*

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Three summers ago, I again experienced this feeling of terror. It was a beauti ful summer day, and four of us had decided to go sailing. We started out, carried

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along by a soft breeze. Farther and farther out we went, not really noticing where we were going, because of the fun we were having.

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Look!" We saw dark, ominous Suddenly Betsy pointed to the east and cried, clouds rolling towards us. Our little boat began to bounce as the Sound became choppy.

I looked back and saw with alarm how far we were from shore, and in the same instant remembered my mother’s words: "Don't go out too far in that little boat.

Sound."

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Storms come up so quickly on the

The wind became stronger and we jumped up on the windward rail. Something seemed wrong with the rudder and we couldn't come about. Really terrified by this time, we looked around for help. We tried in vain to come about. Meanwhile we were being carried farther and farther out, and the storm was coming nearer. Then we saw salvation in the shape of a big white cruiser heading our way from the Long Island shore. We stood up in our little boat like shipwrecked mariners and waved. They pulled alongside, and we clambered aboard, heaving sighs of relief.

Let the sterm cerr.e now, for we were safe and headed for home.

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What we had not realized was was that that our parents were as terrified as we, and even as we were scrambling on board the cruiser, planes from the Coast Guard were scouring the Sound for us.

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Ah, well, it's a great life if you don't weaken.

Ann Williams '48

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Beauty

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When mankind grows wise enough, he will use his leisure time profitably. Only B

then will he appreciate the beauty that surrounds him:

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"A bright day with blue skies And white puffs overhead— A gay tree with bursting buds—

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How often do we stop to admire the outline of skyscrapers against the evening sky? Hov/ many American tourists have paused long enough in their travels to gaze at mountains etched on the sky line?

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Beauty ex’hilarates me.

I watch with soft enfolding darkness. Why is it that soft Spring breezes that bring a promise underfoot like a beautiful carpet?

On a the edge of the cornfield nod to me as I sweeping through the city streets, compel own.

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awe and wonder as night falls v/ith its Springtime makes me gay?

Is it the of budding trees and daffodils spread June morning, the black-eyed Susans, at pass by. Even the icy winds of winter, my admiration with a beauty all their

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Happy is the man whose eyes are open to Nature's beauty.

Pause often often Pause along the way. Look about you and let the beauty of your surround.ngs sink Into your consciousness. You will hear new sounds, and sec with greater perception.

Beauty will g’ve you tranquility and Inspiration.

Jane Scott '48

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Oops, Wrong Day

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Ever since I was five years old, I have devoted my Sundays to worrying: then, I am free to play the rest of the week.

I think this Sunday I shall worry about the moving picture industry, and maybe my dress for the Junior-Senior Prom, I really believe the movie Industry needs worrying about.

I think that it is on the down-grade. Of course, if I give in to myself, I shall be worrying about Robert Mitchum in general — and that would be bad, because then I couldn't decide what should be done to save pictures.

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When I say my dress for the Junior-Senior Prom, it sounds as if I had decided what to wear on that grand occasion.

I suppose everyone will be getting new dresses, but that is out of the question for me. I shall have to think of something.

I can't wear my black suit, and my print dress Is too short. Alphonse has seen my navy blue dress twice. Oh, what to wear!

Really, this Sunday I shall be most occupied with my worrying.

*

If M. G. M. doesn't make a good picture soon I am afraid for its reputation.

Although 1 didn’t see "Gentleman's Agreement", I did1 see "Tarzan and the Amawhich I thought was Itruly marvelous. I don't see how anything could surzons pass it. Why it didn't win an Academy Award, I shall never know. Also, Iti seems to me. If they cut out a few of these glamour girls and made more westerns, they would have a better chance for survival.

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If I wear my green dress, I Really this dress business Is getting me down. shall want new gold shoes, and I just know I can never find what I want.

I saw them on Betty Grable in a magazine last week. Speaking of Betty, I don't think she is as pretty as the men seem to think.

She and Harry were having dinner with the Bob Mitchums. They say he's a menace, but personally I think he is an ace-man.

He is my type. Why, If I could play the lead opposite him in a west­ ern It would be wonderful.

Just imagine riding across plains, through canyons, over streams — me, In the hands of a villain, and Bob wildly chasing after, thinking only of my safety. One thing that always has me puzzled Is: how would they take the pictures as we fled across the country, shooting, tumbling, and doing all sorts of unpredictable things?

If Bob asked me out for dinner that night, after the picture was finished, I guess I would wear my, green dress and would beg, borrow, or steal shoes. I really can't compare Bob to Alphonse, but I guess I will have to wear the green dress and get the shoes somehow.

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But this is only Monday, and I'm not supposed to worry until Sunday, so I guess I'd better quit.

Sandra Woodworth '49

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The Horse In Sport

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Horse sports have a strong appeal to the sporting instincts of most of the It is an attraction which extends far beyond the mere human beings of today, competition of a game, Of all our sports those in which horses partake are the What could be most varied: of all animals the horse is the most cooperative, game of polo, a race or steeplechase, hunting and more thrilling then watching a many of the other activities?

I have watched many of these sports and as a genuine horse-lover I appre­ ciate the never-ending splendor In which these animals perform, just for the will

of a man.

At the racetrack the horse puts his all Into winning a race, for the pleasure of man.

In steeplechases, as In hunting, the horse sometimes is killed lust by one misstep In his jumping. When you think about it. It seems cruel, and In cases It undoubtably is.

But the horse is only one of the many slaves of man that will carry on through the ages.

Bobbie Goerke '48

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A Hopeless Proposition Being a schoolgirl, and of such fender tender age as I am, I have the usual amount of worries that go with the often long and irritating problem of growing However, I do find that I have two worries that absolutely obsess my mind, up—no matter how much I try to prevent them.

The first one always proves to be the bane of my existence, when, on Sundays I enter church, and when I have the pleasant (and I say pleasant with1 a great deal of broadness) ordeal of being with boys. To sum it up in a few words, I worry about my hair being continually straight. Every night I sit before a mirror for at least an hour—not that it is particularly interesting to look at my reflection, but I hope by ferocious brushing that I can succeed in getting a slight wave In my hair.

Each night, upon seeing no Improvement, I proceed to curl my hair with large, bulky, steel curlers, which I find extremely uncomfortable, while trying to sleep.

Rising each morning, I feel a sense ot 'la of success and begin to tear the curlers out of my hair. There it stands — and all frizzed out! After a total of about ten minutes of brushing, I leave for school.

Upon entering the school door, my second worry completely occupies my mind. Will I ever make the hockey team?

This question brings back memories of a lot of hard work and practice, which never got me anywhere along the line of even hoping to make the team. Making the hockey team always seemed to be my one goal, which' I never attained. However, I don't think I will ever stop trying.

But, that brings up my hopeless problem.

Eor, If I play hockey, my hair manages to uncurl beautifully: and if I curl my hair, I do not wish to play hockey — all of which takes me on a fast speeding train away from my one great wonder and goal.

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Be+fy Jane Regnemer, '51 I

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The Thrills of Sailing

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It is Larchmont Race Week on Long Island Sound, and our class starts

at Ihree thirty. iV-'.

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Let's go out early to watch the white sails cross the line, like ocean waves breaking on the long sandy shore.

Now the horizon is covered with sails and a blue or red spinnaker here and there. Back at

the starting line motor boats are cruising around, finding the best place

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for seeing the start.

goes the

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start.

the course?

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preparatory gun,

Which end of the line is It?

which

There goes the gun again!

tide, wind and opponents.

means Let's go!

What Is

It's a fight against

We've rounded the first mark,

naker up In twenty seconds, if we can make it.

HACK, sixty seconds.

minutes to our

five

Where is the first mark?

Oh,

Get the spln-

HACK,

HACK,

We're now fourth, but we have to win.

The boat up to windward is beating us. It has a better breeze.

Now

we've rounded the second mark. We're In second place, with a reach to the finish.

Come on boat!

He can't sail that boat—it's just fast.

finish line Is getting closer and closer. ed—but we're second.

Come ON, boat!

The

The line is cross­

Oh boat, I think I'll trade you in for a game of

dominoes!

Now, into the club to tell our opponents why we didn’t win.

The

club lawn is so crowded with wet sailors and sails that it seems as if all

the crews were there from all four hundred boats.

The Sound, which only

a few hours ago had been sprinkled with sails, is once again empty.

But

the discussion of tactics and shifts goes on far into the night. fit,-

You may talk of horse-back riding and playing golf, but give me sail

boat racing, the most thrilling, daring, maddening of sports!

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Barbara Thomson '48

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Light Comes To Darkie It was late afternoon when I arrived. I crept along the outer side of the long, low barn which was (expertly painted green and white, the traditional colors of Belmont Park.

I fondled the smooth boards and thought., "This Is it.

My dream!"

All my life I had thought about coming here, but my brother wouldn't let• me because Dad had been killed by a race horse. Tom, my brother, owned race horses. lots of them, and he always feared that I would be killed also. He was in Florida now, ......and ...dI: had :._j run away from home to come here.

I slipped into a hay stall, as a g B, by.

- - My wiry form —........... .. guard' came whistling fitted easily between the bales, and I decided to sleep there. Dumping my few belong­ ings on the floor, I sat down, wearied by my long journey. The reason for my <conning ■ - 'here . was to ' save my, 'horse, or I.................................. called him that, 'because _________ Dad_ had said I could have him when he was a colt, but Tom wouldn't let me keep him. ..... He said Darkle, my nickname for Dark Night, was too vicious; he was too, except with1 me, Those other people just didn't understand, and now they were going to shoot him.

I shuddered and decided to look for his stall. IIt was. not .. A. hard, for............ it was just a couple of aisles down from the hay stack. I tiptoed past a sleeping oldJ man. softly slipped back the bolt and entered the stall.

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He was standing in the corner, half asleep, bandaged to the hocks. I almost cried, for he seemed to be reconciled to his fate, which was to ccme at dawn.

He saw rne, bared his teeth, and quickly turned to lash out at me, "Darkie, Darkie, Darkie, boy, don t you know me? Come here, fella, it s all right. ' The ears of the large, brown horse came uncertainly forward. He turned, gave a whimper of joy upon recognizing me, and nuzzled his nose Into into my pocket for the sugar that he knew was there. I gave it to him, stroking his nose which was as high as I could reach.

Suddenly, from behind, a quavering voice said, Laudy, massy mammy, what you all doin' in that stall? That boss'll kill you. Oh woe is me. Miss Joe, come here quick." He turned and ran. Darkie tensed and his ears flicked back and forth.

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Steady, boy, I said, patting the sleek neck which had become wet from nervousness. I turned to see an old man hurrying toward the stall. He had a kind, wrinkled face and was much too fat, but I guessed that he knew lot about horses.

He was the man Tom had put in charge before leaving for Florida.

"Look here, son," he said, "what are 'you doing In that horse's stall? How did you get in there anyway?" IHe ' stepped inside and moved toward Darkie. The h _ ---------.lorse turned and lashed out, missing the5 man by Inches. The man slipped and fell. The horse reared high above him, hatred gleaming In his eyes.

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"Darkie," I yelled, ............. " "Down boy."

His hooves landed inches from the man's c___ started to pat him, L .

He was trembling all over, and as I walked over and he pillowed his head — my — shoulder ---- '-i- -and' sighed. ' ' ' ‘Most ■ ■ of' the ■ J on hatred left his eyes. but Darkie was glaring at the man who was just getting up.

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"Well, I'll be doggoned," :said one I of the darkies leaning against the door.

The commotion had brought the■ rnen running, and now they were all aghast The fat man turned to me and questioned, "Son, how old JJ are you?"

"Thirteen," I said proudly.

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You handle that horse pretty well for such a young boy? Know him before?

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I stepped short, being aware of the audience.

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"I know, son," he I said, recognizing the look in my eyes. "Okay, boys, back to work. It s all right now.

They left left in in pairs, pairs, exceot except for for the now.

They the one who had first seen me. He was still standing with his mouth open. "Go on. Bill,"

Yes suh, yes suh," he said stammering.

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I's going."

Now son," the man said with a ffriendly '___ smile, "what's your story?" h,m, and afterwards he whistled through his teeth,

I told

-.te-

"You're a pretty young boy to be traveling around by yourself, aren't you?"

Yes, sir,

but I have to save Darkle.

I replied, "but

He's not really mean."

But, son, no one can ride him. Two of our boys are laid up In the hospital because of him. No, I'm sorry, son. He's got to be shot tomorrow."

No! No!" I wailed.

I leaped on Darkie's back. Before the man could say anything, we were out of the door and on the track. I felt the muscles tense, ready Steady, boy. to buck.

"Steady, boy."

He relaxed. Suddenly I realized I had no bridle. Only the halter with a short rope enabled me to hold him.. "Let's see if you remember what I ve taught you," iI pulled on the rope ever so slightly, and he responded almost immediately. In the meantime everybody had come running out yelling.

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"He'll be killed," I heard.

I only chuckled and the glossy back.

It was a wonderful feeling to have whose flashing, easy strides seemed to be endless. gradually we came to a stop. We trotted up to pulled up.

settled down more firmly on a powerful horse under you, Satisfied, I leaned back, and the small bunch of men and

"You gave us a scare, son, but I'll tell you what I'll do. Take this horse over to the old barns, I won't tell your brother, Tom, about it and he'll think the horse If you can get somebody to take this horse somewhere to keep, he's is dead, yours," One of the men stepped forward.

I've got an old barn quite near your home.

"Son," he said, "I've for you, and you can pay me when you get the money,"

"Gee, thanks, sir," I exclaimed, "You don't know how much this means to me," We arrived at the home about 3 A,M,, and after I had bedded Darkle down and thanked the man again, I started cn the short walk homeward. All the lights were on, and when I walked In the door. Mother came rushing forward.

I've been worried half to death."

"All right, son," she said, slumping into Into a chair, "thank the Lord you're safe."

I went to bed with dreams of my horse buzzing around in my head.

The next day was cool and crisp. As I sneaked out of the house at six, leaving a not for Mother telling her I was leaving with a bunch of boys, I felt marvelous, It was summer, and all that I had on was a striped shirt and a pair of "jeans".

I stopped in the cellar, and hauled out the carefully polished saddle and bridle, that had been my father's and that I had kept hidden. Once out of sight of home, I started whistling.

"Morning, boy," I said as I rounded the corner of the

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"Gee, I'm sorry. Mom, but I had to go, please don't ask me why."

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"Bryan, where have you been?

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stable and turned in to the run-down, one-time racing stable. He whinnied and stood waiting for a ride. ?As I stepped into the spacious box stall, he playfully pushed his nose into me. I slipped the bridle and saddle on and walked out into the morning. He champed at the light bit in his mouth. "Steady, fella, steady, this is one habit you are going to get out of."

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Thus his new training began. For the next two months I worked on him. Sometimes he went well, others he was completely unmanageable.

Lately he having well. Then the day came when I first started jumping him. IIt was a long slow process, but finally he would jump four feet without batting an eyelash.

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Mom had found out about Darkie, but after seeing how quietly he went, she didn't mind. However, Tom was coming home tomorrow, and I'd have to tell him about my horse. I told him that night, as we were going upstairs talking, "I tell you. Mom, that horse is no good."

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"Now, son," replied Mom,, "we'll give him a chance to prove h:mself. told Bryan he could take the horse into it. is a small show next week. I've I goes well, he can keep him; if not, the horse goes, fair enough?"

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"Okay," replied Tom reluctantly.

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The day of the show arrived. It was beautiful weather—just right. I arrived early to get Darkie used to the fences. My one class was the second one, and as we went into the ring, my/ heart was in my mouth, although I was bursting with pride. "Steady, boy, cne ence good, not too fast, boy, easy, that's it. We completed the course amidst the cheers of the audience. All of a sudden Darkie swerved at a paper on the ground, reared in fright, and threw me to the ground.

I jumped up and walked out of the ring, my horse following me. 'I am probably disqualified," I thought.

I turned to leave when I heard the announcer say over the microphone.

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My head swam as the blue rosette was placed on Darkie's bridle. There was a loud applause from the grandstand, That's for you, boy," I said, patting him on the neck.

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"No buts about it," he said. know. He thought that was best.

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Bryan," he stated, That night when I came heme, Tom was already there.

"I've got news for you. I'm taking Darkie back to the races, and you can come also.

Doesn't that sound swell?"

"Sounds swell"—it was like a shot in my ear, back to the races, all my work would be undone.

But, Tom." "

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"The winner of Class two, children's jumpers, number eight. Dark Night, owned

by Bryan Manchester." The judges disputed dijiputed the fall of the boy, but the course was completed, so he is declared the winner."

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That meant

He leaves tomorrow."

Poor Tom, he didn't That night I fell into a troubled sleep.

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Darkle left, and Tom was able to find a man who could ride him, thanks to my training.

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Then one day horses filed out for because he won all "for such a slippery

it happened.

It was cold, and the track was slippery. The the big race. Darkle v/as the favorite, and he carried 126 lbs., of his five previous starts.

That's a lot of weight," I thought, track.

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My suspicions; were confirmed. The horses were coming into the backstretch.

Darkle was (driving to the lead, when suddenly he slipped and fell, with other horses piling up on top of him. I felt sick to my stomach and instinctively said a prayer.

"This is It," I thought. The one thing I knew would happen, I had begged Tom not to race Darkle, but to no avail and now my horse was probably dead.

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I ran out on the track toward the tangle of horses, all of them were except one.

I cried cut in a whisper, "Darkie!"

I knelt beside him.. breathing and I could see one of his legs was torn, where he had been on. The vet came up and examined him. After a short time, he finally

up now, He was stepped said.

This horse will never run again. Take him home; in time this will heal up, and you can hack him, but he'll never race again. It's too bad. He's a very good horse." He mumbled something else which I didn't hear.

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This was too good to be true. Home, I could take him home and care for him.

The remembrances of our glorious rides came back to me.

I managed to say in a short voice, as Darkie flicked his ears toward me, "Easy, boy, easy. You'll never have to run again. Do you hear me? We'll have our old rides, and, and," I broke out into sobs as Tom put a comforting arm a around _____ ___ me. We - walked --------- -----back into the Infield looking at a glorious sunset with Darkie silhoueted in the background, as he was being walked away toward the barn.

Nancy Pratt, Grade 8

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Who Wants A Lion?

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One evening last month, the 'phone rang with more than Its usual shrillness.

"Hello, hello.

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said," Mother answered, unable I didn't quite catch what you said,

to believe her ears.

Please hurry and get him.

He looks

kinda hungry."

"But there must be some mistake. . .

"We never make mistakes.

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Come and get him.

The expressman was obviously tired and had no wish to keep a lion overnight,

Mother hung up the 'phone, collapsed in ai chair, and considered in a dazed fashion who had""thought up the idea of sending us a lion. Finally light dawned, dawned. great practical joker.

But Uncle Fred, who lives in Africa, had always been a (_

surely this was going a bit far.

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"There's a lion here addressed to you.

She rounded up the family.

We all leaped into the car and drove down to the Railway Express office. ~ r 11 I• _____ • ___ _________ il., a r a n I / c I ir 11 n n.

There, in an enormous crate, sat a full grown lion, roaring as gently/ as any suckingdove at the unfortunate official.

Father heroically told us ito stand back, while he gingerly approached the crate. There was a letter pastedJ on the outside of irie L l-a.

He opened It and read; "Happy birthday. Niece. Bet you didn't think the box.

I'd remember. This is Toby, the gentlest lion in the world, if he likes you. Love.

Fred."

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I Now the problem was — would the lion like us or not? He seemed perfectly cordial, so we patted him gently on the nose. He loved this and seemed to go into a trance. His mouth turned up at the corners, and his eyes closed. When we stopped, he recommenced his roaring act.

Our next headache was how to get him home. He was obviously too big for ................ the car. We finally decided to wait until Itt was dark, and lead him home behind the car. At three o'clock in the morning, we were half-way home, when we saw a police-car approaching. Quick as thought, we all made a wild dive for the bushes with Toby, who let out a horrible scream of hurt pride at being tugged so hard.

The police-car stopped and the occupants got out.

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"What was that?"

"I don't know. Sounded like a huge dog." f;

"Probably was."

bure.

They re-entered the car and drove off.

We heaved a sigh of relief.

On arriving home, we put our pet in the garage with the dogs to sleep. You can imagine our Irish cook's horror In the morning when she openedthe door, ex­ pecting two small terriers to appear and out came a huge lion. Toby Immediately loved both horses, and played with them Incessantly. Unfortunately he also loved the sticky mud of our tennis courts: It is mud three fourths of the year, and he rolled in it every morning. This put the court out of action for the remaining fourth of the year, but we all decided that a ruined tennis court was nothing com­ pared to a real live lion.

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Toby took an immediate dislike to the milkman. When that unsuspecting , J man way. our fpet' sprang from behind the nearest pine-tree and alcame his whistling way, most scared him to death.

We have the system now, though. We put a sign Just outside the driveway, which reads: "Please blow horn before entering." On hearing a horn, someone rushes at Toby and madly pats his nose. He goes into a daze, and the milkman, or whoever it may be, goes by unscathed.

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However, we can't keep Toby. We have arnew addition ' to the family that he has taken a violent dislike to. One or the other has to go: it is a case of Toby or my baby sister, and, much as we children regret It, the lot falls on Toby.

Would anyone like a lion?

Frances Curtis, '50 IS

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While Mother was still driving a horse and buggy along country roads which Father invested in a convertible Ford, complete with

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rarely saw an automobile. crank.

Soon after this acquisition, he took Mother out for a ride.

As they drove

along, the proud owner explained the advantages of his car and discoursed upon

Mother being an apt pupil soon learned the basic facts that

the art of driving.

enable the beginner to drive. y(55

On the return home. Father stepped out of the Ford, opened the garage

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doors with a flourish, and with an air of confidence and pride in his star-pupil, he

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cried, "All right, Helen, you drive her in."

Mother's first instinct was to refuse,

but Father soon convinced her that It was very simple.

step on the gas and steer the car In. over the driver's seat.

Finally,

Mother

All she had to do was to was

convinced and slid

Assuming a confidence she was far from feeling, she began

to carry out Father's Instructions.

Now this may seem all well and good to you, but you are in for a surprise.

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When Mother had steered the car gently into the garage, instead of putting her

foot on the brake, she screamed,

"Whoa,

whoa,

WHOA!"

and went right on

going.

With a great crash the car went throug'h the back of the garage minus one

driver.

Yes, it was Mother.

What happened to her?

Fantastic as It may seem,

my Mother was hanging on a nail looking helplessly at my Father, who couldn't

help but laugh.

Kay Elliott, '48

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Never See the Same Movie Twice

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A few weeks ago a friend of mine — oh, that's right, you know Sandra

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—well, anyway, Sandra was going to spend the night at my house, because my mother and father had gone and left me all alone.

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This was Monday,

and on Sunday night I had gone to the movies and seen "The Voice of

Sandra had been dying to see it, and after I had raved on

the Turtle.

endlessly, she decided she'd just have to see it that night. Well, I didn't

want Sandra to go into Stamford all by herself, and since it was such a

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terrific movie, well . . . you know how it is. So we 'hopped into the rattle­ trap and were off.

Somehow the picture wasn't half as terrific the second

time, but I managed to keep smiling all the way through.

In large, round numbers I'd say it was about 10:30 when we entered I

the dark streets of Stamford.

The car was at the Avon Parking lot, and

Sandra climbed in while I proceeded to start the car. once, because the motor was suddenly roaring.

I just had to try

I couldn't figure out why,

so I quick, like a bunny turned the switch off, and that doggone ungrateful

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flivver nearly blew up. It was the biggest backfire I've ever heard. Sandra and I found ourselves surveying the car at a distance of about five feet.

We surveyed for a little while, and then I went to see what could have

happened to the poor thing.

It didn't take long to discover that the ac-

celerator was flat on the floor and just wouldn't budge.

up and decided to call Sandra's mother.

We finally gave

There wasn't a place in town

open, so we went, just as fast as our feet could carry us, to the Police

Station. they?

They're nice, aren't

Have you ever met a Stamford policeman?

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We had to wait until the mechanic of the force came off duty, and

then he'd go with us and fix the car.

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anter wait in my life!

May I say I've never had a pleas­

What odd people one encounters!

drop in sometime and see them. . . .

Oh, you have?

You should

They are unusual,

Well, it turned out that two very nice policemen escorted

aren't they?

us home as the mechanic wasn't very good.

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All in all, I'd say we'd had it!

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Cathy Henderson '48

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Our Pride and Joy One of the most exciting days of my life, I thought, would be the day I should get my license.

Ford instead of a conveniences.

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1929.

This might have been true If I'd had a

1948

The 1929 Ford keeps us a bit busier with all its

The gas tank leaks and in order to prevent this eccentricity,

a knob under the hood has to be turned on and off after we get out and

before we get In.

One day It was storming quite badly and I had to take our chariot to town to fetch a friend who was coming for dinner.

The light little

buggy jumps ever time she goes over an ant hill; in fact she nearly takes

1

off when she goes over a graduated pebble — one special advantage is

whenever there are puddles and the chariot hits them, the driver Is given a complete bathing from knee to toe. The reason for this new ImproveOh yes, and if it Is raining anything ment Is that the floor is aerated,

more than a drizzle, <cne of our privileged passengers may have the beginnings of a hair wash,. All that is needed is some "Drene" and they would be all set.

But on this special day I was no wetter than usual, and everything was just about fine.

I reached my destination, struggled out, turned the

gas off and went to get our dinner guest.

She said she was ready, and

forty-five minutes later we were off. It was raining harder now, and just as we reached the intersection near Yale and Town, at congestion time, the lUtfe darling stalled. She wouldn't start. Cars started honking! I tried again!

No go, she'd had It.

Then the light dawned,

and 1 jumped out into an

enormous puddle, lifted the hood and fixed the gas.

I climbed in again e?^

and she purred like a sick kitten.

Homeward bound once more, we ar­ rived wetter than when we started, my friend weak from laughter, and I ready to sell our pride and joy for almost nothing.

Barbara Thomson '48

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Easter Day

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On Easter Day the flowers bloomed

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On Easter Day the rabbit came.

On Easter Day I went to church—

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Mother and Daddy did the same.

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Judy McCoy, Grade 3

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ISpring

Daffodils are coming up.

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Tulips are budding now,

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But v/hat I want most is For the pansies to take their bow.

Sweet flowers all over, In gardens, in fields;

In woods there are wild flowers.

The trees are their shields.

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Terry Larson, Grade 3

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r A Glimpse of Charles Lamb If the four, little, winged marble now lying broken and unheed­ - - boys—--ed In an ash heap—could remember back far enough to the time, when they were mounted proudly In the gardens of the Inner Temple, spouting out ever fresh streams from their innocent-wanton lips", llns". they thev would remember the serious, little Lamb, who haunted the Temple almost as much as they.

Held by a :' T ' ' _anything old, _ ___ _ stay strange fascination for he would for hours, watching the parade of distinguished, seder barristers, or walking through the church, its halls. Its gardens, and by the great river, which lhen, to him, was just a delightful stream that watered those pleasant places. While the boy was thus studying studyinq antiquity and admiring admirinq the anclent architecture, the tastes of the ii.j man were being formed.

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A few years later, on peeking f between the iron railing of Christ's Hospital, the Charity School, the observer would see this same boy In recreation hour with his blue gown tucked up, playing ball with his fellows.

He seems rather better fed and happier than some, owing to an old aunt, who provides him with goodies, and also to a patron, Samuel Salt, who keeps from him the harsher forms of punishment.

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On holidays, when most boys go swimming or follow other robust. boyish pursuits, Charles Lamb goes to visit an old relative, who Ilves alone as housekeeper in a splendid, old mansion. He spends his holiday indoors, wandering through the dark passages, imagining he Is descended from the aristocratic faces hanging on the walls, instead of the tattered shepherd on the distant hillside. A much-used volume of Cowley lies on the shelf in lhe hot storeroom, where he left it when his eyes became tired of perusing Its contents. As he lies In bed, his eyes fall upon the tapestries on the wall, his breath quickens, and he quakes in terror of the horrors they depict.

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This boy, who is by now a man, is an affectionate and devoted brother. His brother, John, is a pig-headed, selfish beast, but Charles can find no fault with him. He admires his courage; his kindness to him when he was a little boy: the way he would do things no one would dare to do.

The only thing that he can find wrong with his brother Is that he is rather inconsistent.

He collects expensive pictures and books, while preaching economy — and champs impatiently, while expounding the virtues of patience.

While his brother is his direct opposite, Charles' sister, Mary, is more akin to him in spirit.

Both are ardent readers, Mary being the better judge of morals, but Charles, the more accurate judge of fact. She is a wonderful companion, sharing his tastes and acting as a mother to him.

Though she at times has spells of madness and has to be shut up in a sanitorlum, she has a brilliant mind.

Charles never mentions this in his essays, nor does he ever complain of the fact that he gave up his own happiness to dedicate his life to taking care of her.

Mary, looking Into her flowered teacup, purchased years ago, when their means were small and the price of a teacup too large to be met without hoarding and skimping, sighs, "A purchase is but a purchase, now that you have money enough to spare.

Formerly it used to be a triumph. Do you remember where It was we used to sit, when we saw the battle of Hexham, and the Surrender of Calais, and Bannister and Mrs.

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Bland in the Children In the Wood — when we squeezed out our shilling apiece to sit In the one-ShlllIng gallery? You are too proud to see a play I am sure we saw, and heard, too, well anywhere now but In the pit. sight, and all, I think Is gone with our poverty. And enough then — but 1 Lamb with characteristic common sense replies, It is true we were happier when we were poorer, but we were also younger, Competence to age is supplementary to youth, a sorry supplement indeed, but, I fear, the best that Is to be had."

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And, while we are drifting back to the days when the Lambs were poor Lambs indeed, let us go back a little further still to the South Sea great and glorious dream, where the accountants House, that remnant of ai g Look, there still labor at their tasks, though that dream is lost forever, is old Evans, the cashier, with his hair powdered and frizzed out. He is gib-cat over his counter the "last of that race of beaux." "Melancholy as a g all the forenoon, I think I see him making up his cash (as they call it) with tremulous fingers, as if he feared everyone about him was a defaulter; in his hypochondry, ready to imagine himself one; haunted, at least, with the idea of the possibility of his becoming one." And there is John Tipp, the accountant.

He "thought an accountant the greatest character in the world, and himself the greatest accountant in It." It is a blessing he is at his work and not playing that abominable fiddle of his! I don't seem to see our young friend. Lamb, anywhere in evidence.

Maybe he has sunk out of sight through the tarnished, gilt-leather covering of his bench —or maybe he has vanished with the silver inkstands into the oblivion of the out-dated wall maps.

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Our next stop is Oxford. No, my dear reader, you are not mistaken.

Charles Lamb never went to college, but he is busily trying to convince himself and the world at large that he did. It is his vacation and it pleases him to walk solemnly around Oxford, pretending that he is a professor or some other erudite gentleman.

It tickles his rich sense of humor to see students and young gentlemen bowing to him with reverence, thinking him to be what he is not.

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Here is a friend of his, George Dyer by name, and who, from his looks, could be easily folded up and placed on a bookshelf, without any­ one's knowing the difference. He is a student. That is all one would need say about him except for his having an over-abundance of that scholarly He was once known, in the course of a half frait,—absent-mindedness. hour, to have called twice at the same house without realizing the inanity of the act, until, upon calling for the guest book, he saw his own name there, lhe ink scarcely dry. Another time, so absorbed was he in his medi­ tations, that he walked right into a river without Interrupting his reverie and sank without a struggle. It was mere chance that Charles Lamb hap­ pened to be watching and pulled him out before too much damage was done.

Before we leave Charles Lamb let us take a look at the character of the man: his whole life one of service to his sister; the woman he loved and children sacrificed for her sake — and all this without a murmer of self-pity.

1 can see him in his bachelor armchair watching his dream children fade into oblivion as they murmer, "We are nothing; less than nothing: and dreams." — and he turns with quiet resignation to the faith­ ful Bridget by his side.

Louise Hawkins '48

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Imaginary Newspaper Report of the Whitefield - Tanner Wedding After a brief tussle with the Justice of t'he Peace, Mr. John Tanner was

reluctantly wed to Miss Ann Whitefield in Richmond yesterday.

Your re­

porter is now convinced that the law of magnetism is absolute: opposites

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do attract, In this case, Whitefield and Tanner.

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Miss Whitefield, arrayed in a white flowing gown, was escorted to her

place by her guardian, Mr. Roebuck Ramsden. Mr. Tanner followed rather

unwillingly, sporting a suit of clol'hes that might have been used for a bill­ board advertisement,

'What the well-dressed fisherman will wear."

This service was one of the most unusual ever witnessed by this re­

porter.

Mr. Tanner instead of repeating the customary, "I do", answered

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The ceremony concluded when Mr. Tanner called forth the I"? weeping best man, Mr. Octavius Robinson, to kiss the bride for him.

"Must

After the brief reception during which every bachelor present was called upon to shake hands with Mr. Tanner, a strange announcement was made, and I quote: "Any gifts that Mrs. Tanner and I receive that are

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useless will be pawned and the money will be used for publishing more

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of

my

Revolutionists

Handbooks",

unquote.

This

announcement

brought gasps of surprise from the mouths of the rest of the company, Mr. Malone, Sr., his son and wife. Miss Ramsden, and Mr. Octavius Rob­ inson.

The cab soon arrived and after a considerable time had elapsed, dur­

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ing which Tanner tried to escape from the house by the back door, with of Ann following close behind, the couple left. The last this reporter saw O' the Tanners, Ann was leading Tanner Into the cab by the ear.

Leda Freid, '49 S

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The Time Is Out Of Joint”.. „ Hamlet I was not born to live this way

In a world of 'Might is Right’; I did not plan to wake each day

To read the lates't fight.

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I never thought of harmful 'Isms'

Or Ideologies; %

My earth had no religious schisms Or mortal enmities.

My earth was like a new-sown lawn Unmarred by tramping feet; •^7

Each seed grew up with every dawn With progress green and sweet.

My earth was like a waterfall,

Its stream the human race, Which surged unbroken to the wall.

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Then fell while more kept pace.

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But when men find there is no worth in prejudice and pride, There may be time to have my earth

With mankind unified.

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Sue Rockwell, '48 ?-

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Athenian Play-Goer

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When I awoke on that beautiful March day, I realized how fortunate I was.

For the first time in my life I would be present at the festival of Dionysius, which would be held in the amphitheater at the bottom , of t'he, Acropolis. One of the tragedies to be performed, and the only one I would see, was the "Alcestis" by FEuripides.

■ ' . ...........time, my soul would ■ ■ •be purged............................

That• day, for the first by the emotions of pity and terror., as I watched this great drama.

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While my slave, Theodosia, was Ihelping me dress, she said meekly, "Mistress Daphne, I envy you SO. so. I have never been to a festival of Dionysius, but, alas, I know my place. Only Marciper, your father's steward, warrants that honor."

As I heard this plaintive speech, I had the most ridiculous Impression that maybe Theodosia was really a human being and not a slave, slave. But how silly I was!

Father had bought her in the slave market, so naturally s'he she was not a human being.

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After Theodosia had assisted me into I my peplos, arranged my hair, and applied my cosmetics, I joined my mother and father, and after a breakfast of porridge and honey, we set out for the amphitheater. ' ~ The road was crowded, hot and dusty, and our chariot was jostled on every side. The curses of slaves, and the neighs of the horses straining to pull their loads through the throng, filled the air, and I was very happy when we finally reached our destination.

Since my father was a member of the Areopagus, our seats were excellent.

Soon the high priest appeared at the altar and after the opening sacrifices and prayers had been piously performed, the tragedy began. The first thing I noticed was what gigantic proportions Apollo possessed. I was almost led to believe that he was truly Apollo, come from Mt. Olympus, until I noticed the high built-up soles, the huge wig, and the padded clothing the actor wore, which made him assume such a size, I later saw that all the actors used the same device to make themselves seem larger.

As the play progressed into the death scene, my lips began to tremble, and the stage seemed to be a blurred mass of colors. I looked about me and saw that the rest of the audience was affected In the same fashion.

Even my father was weeping.

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When finally Alcestis; was restored to life, and the tragedy was over, I left the Amphitheater wifh a feeling of elation and pride, for the noble spirit of Alc.estis, and her triumph over death.

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1 I cuddled a little closer to the soft, downy pillow of my bed; I shivered a mo­ ment. I was tired after my long evening walk.

Though I'm living in a world with other people, at times I am aware only of myself and my immediate surroundings. I did not think of the individual lives of others. I had walked down a street many times, and yet I had not heard its songs of love and hate, joy and sorrow that it hums.

But on this day it was different Then I listened, I walked, I watched, I heard the songs and lived a dozen lives instead of one.

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I listened to the music of footsteps. There were a great many people on the street as a destination had to be reached. Something had to be accomplished.

They moved recklessly across the street. There was a minute to be saved—sixty seconds. I wondered how much could be done In that minute; an extra curl comb­ ed, an extra bite eaten, an extra page read? The footsteps hurried on, beating their ceaseless song as they touched the pavement.

There were other themes In this song. There were rhythms and The elevated trains shrieking by, the constant honking of the horns, zing sound of the wheels against the street—all sang the song of was a good song, the tune of the working people. Yet there were heard; ones of despair.

other sounds. and the whiz­ people. This others that I

I listened. From a platform on wheels, with half a man on it, came a song, It was a song for pennies, but it was not a good song. The tune was familiar but there were no words; just a moaning, quavering voice, rising and falling on the turbulent air. The people, as they passed, turned their faces away in order not to see and hear.

I heard more music today, more music of despair: the unsteady rhythmI of a blind man's cane tapping on the cement, beating out a path; the snoring of ।an intoxicated man in a doorway, v/lth nothing to do but sleep and forget.

Yes, I heard terrible songs, but I also heard beautiful ones too. The lilting laughter of school children whose quick giggles brightened the somber streets. The organ grinder's song was clear and gay. The newsboys' chant, the whistle of the ferryboat, the grating sound of roller skates were all songs, beautiful and strong.

I listened — I watched, of just one.

I heard the song and I lived a dozen lives instead

Leda Freid '49

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And A Little Child Shall Lead Them”

The dark, rangy young man ambled along a narrow country road. He Inhaled deeply, and the rough, rather homely faces was transfigured by a delighted grin, The smile rremained while he took the crumpled cigarette package from his pocket, He lit a <cigarette and watched, with deep concentration, the smoke spiral upwards in the soft, spring air. & ‘.'ey

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It was good, real good,-----to, find complete .111^ 'woi 11 I c peace f^c;u\_c;| lie iiiouyiii, "not i HJI the iiie kind mhuj he thought, 1 II. ..... you dreamed about overseas; or the kind you heard the phony politicians plug about, but a relaxed, an almost at-peace-wlth-the-world feeling."

At this he laughed aloud, and his expression became a sardonic one.

"At-peace-with-the-world, that's a good one. You go overseas and fight for all you're worth and nearly get your brains blown out. F.. _____ ,, For what? Your country: a country full of hate, misery and everyone grabbing what they can get and not giving a damn about anyone else. Yeh, quite a world." He was brought out of his deep thoughts by a sudden pain in his hand.

He grinned sheepishly at the old habit of smoking the cigarette for all it was worth. Another army trait to remind him of the years he tried so hard to forget. Wasted years, fighting for a democracy that he knew, now, could never come about.

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"Hi," she said, gazing at him with the complete trust of a child.

"Hi yourself."

"What you doing?"

"Thinking."

"Oh." With that she sat down. I ........................

He looked down at her, and suddenly he knew he wanted more than anything to talk to someone, even If it was; a five or six year old child.

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"How old are you?" he said with stiff formality.

"I'm six, almost six and a half."

"I see." (s^e SS.

"You see what?"

"Nothing," he laughed, "It's just an expression."

"Oh." "Where do you live?"

"Over there."

She pointed a grimy hand at a small farmhouse.

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"Do you have any brothers and sisters?"

"No, only Jamie."

"Who's Jamie?

"You'll see."

She sprang up,

her blond braids flying, and whistled loudly,

The young man sat down and they waited together for "Jamie. seconds later a huge collie raced into view.

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Isn't he beautiful?"

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he said, looking rather dubiously at the dirty, ragged-look

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Jamie, obviously satisfied with the where he lay, panting.

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"What's your name?

He laughed.

sauntered off to a

shady place

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the little girl inquired,

"Tel. Theodore Philip Blair.

"Jennifer Lee Jenson.

praise,

her brown eyes inquisitive.

But you can call me Tel. What s yours?

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But you can call me Jennifer Lee.

Was the little girl mocking him?

Of course not, she was only

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"OK.

Jennifer Lee It is."

"Why'd you come out here?

"I don't know.

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No one ever does.

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To think, I guess."

"About what?"

"The war, me, life In general.

"Were you in the war?"

"Yeh," his tone became guarded.

"I just wondered.

"Why?"

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Daddy was a Captain.

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"Really?"

"Yes."

The conversation stopped abruptly. @?

"Don't you ever get lonely, Jennifer Lee? "No, why should I?"

"There's no one around to play with, and . . ." his voice trailed off.

"I have Jamie, and there's always something to do. of people around."

Besides, there are lots

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"Oh, not real people,' be alone if you can pretend.

she laughed delightedly.

Daddy says you'll never

"And these people are just make believe?"

But sometimes "Yes, I guess so.

Daddy says I live in a world of my own.

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I really feel there is someone with me.

Is that bad?"

But the trouble with the world now Is that people "No, not at your age. have forgotten to grow up; they're still living in their own worlds, selfishly re­ fusing to give them up."

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Yes, I guess I really think that I .

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I uHiiy. lie ueun au Funny, he NOU had Never never been able to F ' his ' ■ attitude ..........

■into ■ ' ■before, ' put words and here it was summed up by a simple! sentence from a child.

But that s silly! she protested. Everyone can't feel like that. There are plenty ot people who really like each other. My parents do."

Sure they do.

Most husbands and wives do."

You see, she answered. don t hate anyone."

Well, then, everyone doesn't hate everyone.

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"No, most kids don't."

Daddy says the world's overridden with kids. S^ So If kids don't hate anyone and husbands and wives don't, who Is there left to hate?"

Well, Jenny, I don't know." He looked at the pug-nosed, pig-tailed youngster. !She made everything sound so easy.

Maybe things weren't as bad as he thought.

Dusk was falling and the air was chilled.

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Jenny shivered.

"I guess I'd better be going. Daddy doesn't like me to stay out late at night.

"Your old man must be a wonderful guy."

"He Is.

Would you like to meet him?"

"Not right now.

Maybe some other day."

"Yes, come some other day. He'll like to meet you, I know. out of the house. You see, he's blind."

He never comes

"Gee, that's tough."

"Do you really think so?

I don't. He can do and feel so many things that Don't feel sorry for him. I really have to go now. Bye, come again."

I can't.

"I will."

With that she was gone, the huge dog lumbering after her slight figure.

He stood up slowly, and walked back again towards town; a little different from the man who had come out here embittered by life.

Unconsciously he straightened his shoulders and breathed the fresh, country air again. This wasn't such a bad place to live in after all; there was a whole new generation in the mak­ ing; the world wouldn't fall apart just yet. What was the psalm he had learned in Sunday School, something about "Peace Among the Nations.

Nations." It went: "And the wolf shall dwell with the lamb, and' the shall He down with the kid; and the v_:; ............................... " 'leopard , .............. ' calf and the young lion and the fatiing together; and a little child shall lead

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Bean - Picking In the restless calm before the dawn she arose, hastily dressed, and partook of her meagre breakfast. With a basket under her arm she set out at an eager pace for the bean fields. It was early and the bean pickers had not yet arrived, but she hoped to get a head start and earn some extra money.

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They had all laughed, when she told them last night that she was going to pick. "Another city slicker — probably dressed in pastel colored slacks — we know the type!

She'll never last the day," they said. She looked at her dusty overalls and laughed softly to herself. She'd show them.

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As the hemisphere awoke from Its slumbers, so stirred the people of the small just in time to see Farmer Halsey f country village. ~ TheJ sun peeped over a field leading his cow, FDaisy out to pasture. Farmer Preston had already started working his fields, and Mrs. Clenowlcz was just hanging out the first of her sheets. (She prided herself on being the first always to fill her line.) In the distance could be heard the squeaking of"a rusty pump, groaning under someone's vigorous hand.

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beside her in the bean fields, bendSuddenly, as if .. by magic, figures appeared ,----- , Ing over their work without enthusiasm. Here were the strong, supple backs and the nimble fingers, the fingers which hardly seemed attached to those disinterested bodies. Here was a face bronzed by the sun, there one of a hue Imported from the West Indies, working together as if by the same power, working to some unknown and exotic rhythm, "On, on, on," they seemed to say, "forget the sun, the pelting, scorching sun, the brazen sun; work, work, work, on and on, that is life, that, our all."

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The sun was higher now and sent its flowing darts earthward, pelting the earth and the men, the men and the earth, both at once for they were one. Abe Shaible speeded by In his new Electric Light and Power Company truck, which had already assimilated' some of the dust of the country road,'.A. rattle on the road announced that Mr. Griffing was 'working the morning shift at the ferry, that ineffable ferry which, though the epitome of Inconvenience, was indispensable to the Islanders.

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She was now working between two Jamaicans and was straining desperately to keep her ground. She saw with anguish that they were passing her with an appalling rapidity and ease.

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(Bean picking is an endurance test tor the uninitiated, consisting of taking muddy, sticky beans off the vines, as fast as you can, as long as you can. You basket, and after what seems an eternity, you empty your put the beans into al' full basket into a sack.)

The noon whistle blew temptingly, but she ignored it and the figures seated In the shade of a gnarled apple tree In her desperate effort to fill another sack.

Towards mid-afternoon she straightened her back momentarily to soothe the ex­ cruciating pain, set her jaw, and stubbornly went on. Her raw fingers called out in protest, but she would not listen.

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She had just filled her last sack when, startled by a roar behind her, she saw Anton Blados with his truck, come to pick up the days' sacks. He put her six sacks In next to someone's twenty-one, and with a smile that said, "Better luck next time," drove off to the counting house.

Louise Hawkins, Class of '48

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The Heart of A Nation

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Heretofore my only ties with England s capital city had been through a pet English bulldog, who insisted that he originally came from London.

He was near the end of his life and was yearning to see his birthplace once more. Therefore Crumpets and I set sail for England. . . .

Here was London and here were we just beginning to get acquainted.

We were walking across Westminister bridge when suddenly we heard chimes, We looked up, and at the end of the bridge stood Big Ben In

the Clock Tower,

To hear these chimes that were being broadcast all over the world, did Crumpets' heart good. I, preparing to be the next President of the United States, was more interested in the Houses of Par­ liament, the seat of the English Empire.

From this historic spot, overlook­

ing the River Thames, spoke the English voice of Democracy.

From here my companion and I went to the top of Ludgate Hill to

see a masterpiece of architecture, Saint Paul's Cathedral.

I gazed at the

famous "Whispering Gallery" running round the Cathedral, and wondered

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Crumpets, Indignant at

my Ignorance, Informed me that St. Paul's was designed by Sir Christopher

Wren to replace an earlier church destroyed in the great London Fire

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We sauntered down the picturesque Charing Cross Road, and when

we came to the end of the street, there was Trafalgar Square. remembered sweating out the

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Battle of Trafalgar in a history exam at

one time, and I surmised that the Square had been named for this battle won by England's Admiral Nelson.

Crumpets made a dash for the pigeons

that waddled about the Square waiting to be fed.

They swirled upward

with flapping wings and took refuge In Nelson's hat.

By this time Crumpets and I were weary and decided to hire a car.

After having a slight run-in with a London "bobby", (I never could remem-

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ber to drive on the wrong hand side of the road) we arrived at Bucking-

The Royal Guards were going through their paces, and I Ihought to myself, "I'll gladly make an offer to the Royal Family for this ham

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Crumpets left the Palaeo with a heavy heart and I, too, felt a little sentimental.

We journeyed to Portsmouth street on Kingsway where Crum­

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Dickins.

It was a quaint, old building, bristling with tradition, and after

entering,

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David Copperfield or Mr.

Pickwick to appear any

minute.

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Suddenly Crumpets became very excited, and I wondered what on earth could be the matter,

it seemed that he had remembered some Lon­

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the Royal Exchange. Crumpets rushed in to settle his business affairs while

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I took In the sights.

me of the banks at home. The double decked buses, which lined the street

also brought back U. S. A. memories.

I noticed that the London Lloyds

insurance company made their home adjacent to the Royal Exchange.

couldn't think of anything rare enough to insure,

and

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moved on.

As the London fog began to roll in, Crumpets and I made our last

stop.

It was Westminster Abbey with its two Imposing spires which had

beckoned Londoners to many coronations.

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Its dignified Interior was some­

what spoiled by the many statutes which disturbed the lines of the graceful

columns.

There were two tired tourists that made their way back to Claridge's.

I had decided that Crumpets and his fellow Londoners really had a just

right 1'0 be proud of their great city. r^-

Sue Rockwell '48

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ANN WILLIAMS, President

CATHY HENDERSON, Treasurer Left to

right—Cathy

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Thomson, Ann Williams,

Louise

Hawkins,

Kay

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Barbara

Bobbie Goerke, Jane Scott, Sue Rockwell.

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ELiSE MEJIA, President

RUTH GOERKE, Treasurer

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Left to right — Leda Freid, Mary Cramp, Nancy Crawford, Ruth Goerke, Sandra Woodworth, Pat Hoyt, Elise Mejia.

absent—Rosemarie Deluca.

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Betty Ann Gilbert, Joan Cramp, Cynthia

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Back row—Donna Whiteside, Ann Ludwig, Beth Stevenson, Ann Robinson, Audrey Golden.

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SALLIANNE CORDINER, President

Left to right: front row—Virginia Ambard, Merle Golden, Nancy Pratt, Middle row — Gloria Smith, Sallianne Cordiner, Judy Molinar, Harle Konspore.

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Standing—Jean McGourty, Ina Lee Brown, absent—Nancy Bamber. ?<4’*

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Front row: left to right—Florence Bach, Susan Whiteford, Sue Gordon, Vicky Thorn, Nancy Bancroft, Laurie MacTavlsh, Betsy ZInt, Myra Hymovich, Joan Kuvin, Marjorie Lang.

Second row — Jane ~ Drury, Sue ~ Turtle, Ann McCoy, Claire Lang, Biffy Dwelle, Elizabeth Yaeger, Marilyn Cooper, Janice McGourty, Jean Tyers, Jean Manninen, Cynthia Guild, Diane Fenton.

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Back row — Gail Proudman, Sally Everett.

Everett, Lois McGourty, Sue Williams.

Williams, Joan Pringle, Elita Taylor, Nancy Bamber, Faith Bennet, Jane Ban­ croft, Kitty McCroskery, Gail Mitchell.

Absent—Sarey Frankel, Virginia Giles,

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Front row: left to right—Virginia Reppy, Lynn Tyers, Linda Moritz, Susan Bisacca, Madelaine Linsley, Judy Hogan, Marilee Parish, Bar­ bara Washington, Susanne Schwartz, Jean Jones, Jill Campe.

Middle row—Judy McCoy, Sharon Edward, Nancy White, Rosalene Baudoin, Grace Morrell, Carroll Dater, Barbara Brown, Betsy Bach,

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t Low-Heywood is governed by the honor system and the student councils. Each grade Is represented by girls whom the class has elected.

This year we are particularly proud of our Middle School Council. The younger girls have done a commendable job In the initial year, of govern­ ing themselves.

We congratulate them and wish their successors Good Luck.

The upper school council succeeded in putting through some uniform improvements. We hope that in turning over the council to the class of '49, they will be able to have the school back in complete uniform and be able to preserve the honor, the goodwill and the driving spirit that has always characterized Low-Heywood.

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To the Juniors:

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In the day of prosperity be joyful,

But in the day of adversity consider.

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In all the places you can.

At all the times you can, To all the people you can.

As long as ever you can. w si?

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To the Freshmen: Life is a progress from want to want,

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“HEYDAY” Board LOUISE HAWKINS, Editor-In-Chief

Left to right;

front row—Sue Rockwell, Louise Hawkins, Ann Williams.

Back row—Ann Robinson, Pat Hoyt, Faith Taylor.

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During the hot summer months, a plan was being hatched in the minds of a tew undergrads Low-Heywood.

These brave souls were none other than the present Seniors.

On the fifteenth of October, in the year of our Lord, one thousand, nine hundred and forty-seven — It happened.

The Hey-Day, the first newspaper Low-Heywood has ever known, rolled from the presses Into the eager hands of its subscribers. A milestone had been reach­ ed in the progress of our school.

Our publication was far from perfect, but each succeeding issue has been so tar superior to the last, that we have hopes that next year’s staff will be able to turn our enthusiastic effort from a cub sheet into a real newspaper. We hope that they will improve upon our style, having learned from our mistakes.

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BARBARA THOMSON, President s®

Left to right; front row — Donna Whiteside, Sally Smith, Ann Robinson, Bettejane

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Regnemer, Barbara Thomson, Nancy Cordiner, Patricia Primavera, Sally Sloan, Nancy Kuvin.

Middle row — Frances Curtis, Beth Stevenson, Cathy Hender­ son, Bobbie Goerke, Audrey Solden, Faith Taylor, Leda Fried, Sue Rockwell,

Back row — Frances Tedesco, Ruth Ooerke, Anne Ludwig,

Pat Hoyt, Jane

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Absent — Rosemarie Delucca.

As we go to press, the dee Club is striving to complete its already unique

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season.

The last event of the year will be the Spring Festival, when Low-Heywood

joins with four other schools to present a musical program.

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The joint concert with

South Kent was a novel experience for both schools. Our sincerest thanks to Mrs. Fincke for such an outstanding outstandinq program. proqram.

May the event become a tradition.

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Athletic Association BOBBIE GOERKE, President Left to right; front row—Bonnie Cushman, Sandra Woodworth, Bettejane Regnemer; back row—Bobbie Goerke, Sally Everett, Judy Mclinar.

The A. A. opened the school year by welcoming the new and old girls to a party. Throughout thes season, schedules were arranged, trans­ portation difficulties were :solved and equipment was kept intact by the industrious members cf the A.A. Towards the end of the year, these members were hard to find, for they were busily planning a bigger and better cupnight, cupnight. one ot the main events of the year. Next year will do well to follow the shining example of the '48 Athletic Association.

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Lett to right: front row—Lydia Jacob, Elise Mejia, Kay Elliott, Bobby Goerke, Sandra Woodworth, Bonnie Cushman.

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Now that L. D. P.'s trial year as a social service organization is over, we are convinced that it has proved beneficial both to the girls and to the community.

Working in the Girl's Club, the Stamford Workshop, and conducting the various drives has given valuable experience to the girls. L. D. P.'s greatest achievement was the sending of thirty food and clothing parcels to England, France and GerIt was only through the endless efforts of the girls and Miss Groom and many, Miss Scott that we were able to attain our goal, goal. We are sure that our advisor, c the gratifying results we received will inspire the organization to more successful years.

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Standing—Jane Scott, Bonnie Gushman, Lydia Jacob, Ann Ludwig, Elise Mejia, Pat Hoyt, Ann Williams.

1948 saw the first undefeated hockey season in eleven years.

The never failing spirit of the school and the enthusiastic guidance of Miss Glark were the main factors in our victories. We hope that next year will bring the second consecutive undefeated season.

After a short comic opera by both teams, the traditional rivalry was The Blacks mustering unknown strength forced the Blues to a oneon.

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one tie.

The alumnae brought a colorful and formidable team, but the school managed to eke out another victory.

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—Bobble Goerke, Sue Rockwell, Ann Williams, LeH to right: front row i back row — Sandra Woodworth, Joan Cramp, Nancy deCoppet:; Lydia Jacob, Bonnie Cushman, Betty Ann Gilbert.

The basketball team, although not as successful as the hockey team, played well in every game. The girls deserve a great deal of credit.

With a little more enthusiasm from the school girls, the basketball team next year might be expected to win a greater number of games.

The Blue-Black game was the highlight of the season, with every member of grades 7 and 9-12 participating. Neither team was ahead by more than three points at a time. When the final whistle blew the Blues were on top by a single point.

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17 Atlantic Street Stamford, Conn.

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433 Main St.

Stamford 4-2136

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INSTITUTE EVERYTHING

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32 Park Rov/

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Glenbrook

Stamford, Conn.

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PETROLEUM HEAT AND POWER CO. STAMFORD, CONN

Phone 3-2 121

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389 Main St.

Coviello Bros.

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VOGUE BEAUTY SALON

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374 Courtland Ave. Glenbrook, Conn.

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Stamford, Conn.

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BUSINESS EDUCATION LOOKS AHEAD AT SHORT’S SECRETARIAL SCHOOL TO HELP YOU ACHIEVE YOUR AIM IN LIEE • In business positions, young men and young women earn good incomes right from the start. Their work places those who are trained in direct contact with executives who have the power to give promotions. e The specialised business training offered by Short’s Secretarial School will qualify you for a good starting position. It will give you a sound foundation for future advancement. We Are Training Tomorrow’s Business Leaders.

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It might as well be TOU Short’s Secretarial School is Accredited hy the Connecticut State Board of Educa' tion; it is also a Charter Member of the National Council of Business Schools and has been approved for the offering of the following Standard Courses;

Stenographic Secretarial Higher Accounting and Business Administration

Executive Secretarial Junior Accounting Veterans Tilaining Program (Under G. L Bill of Rights)

Now is the time to prepare for a Business Career *>■?

SUMMER SCHOOL — DAY AND EVENING SESSIONS — CO-EDUCATIONAL

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INQUIRIES AND VISITS to the School are invited. If you are interested in a business career, or if you are still undecided, call, write, or telephone for free litera' ture. We shall gladly provide complete information on courses, rates, and time required, without obligation.

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DAY SCHOOL, SEPT. 7, EVENING SCHOOL, SEPT. 13.

EARLY REGISTRATION IS ADViSABLE

SHORT'S

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“ The School of Business, Accounting and Secretarial Training ” 305 Atlantic Street

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Stamford, Conn.

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Lumber and Mason Material Fertilizer — Lawn Seed — Fencing

Natural Flagstone

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Ring’s End Fuel Co., Inc, DARIEN, CONNECTICUT

Phones: Darien 5-1453, Stamford 3-8313

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We would lil^e to exfrress onr sincerest thaul<^s to Charles D. Steurer, fr., for the fine joh he did on

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the result and we Iviou' that everyone will join with

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