Chapter 3

Every year Northrop and Summit schools come together at one place or the other for an informal party. This year, it being our pleasure to entertain the Summit girls, we looked forward to the occasion as one of our most enjoyable events.

We departed from the usual form of entertainment in presenting the French play "Le Voyage de Monsieur Perrichon." Although probably not every one in the audience understood all the speeches, the play went off well, for the plot is such that it is easily comprehended through the acting; also to aid the audience a short synopsis was read in English before the curtain rose, by Shirley Woodward, who looked the part of a dashing French soldier.

The roles of that amusing pair, Monsieur and Madam Perrichon, were taken by Betty Long and Barbara Bailey. Henriette, their daughter, was portrayed by Anne Healy, and the two charming lovers, Daniel and Armand, by Dorothy Sweet and Janet Morrison.

An additional feature of the program was provided by the faculty sextet, in the form of several pleasing songs. After the play, the faculties of both schools had refreshments upstairs, and dancing followed in the gymnasium.

La Visite Du Duc De Trevise

Le huit mars nous fûmes très heureuses d'avoir avec nous le Duc de Trévise. Comme Mlle. Carse était dans l'est, Mlle. Bagier le présenta. Il fit une conférence des plus intéressantes sur la reconstruction de l'ancienne architecture de la France, accompagnée de projections charmantes de son sujet. Il expliqua de son ravissant accent français, les dégâts qu'on fait aux beaux édifices du moyen âge. Il nous soumit le projet de son organisation pour conserver divers anciens châteaux, aux villages différents de la France pour chaque ville américaine qui aura approprié de l'argent pour cette cause, donnant ainsi le moyen aux citoyens de chaque ville d'avoir un logis quand ils visiteront le village ou la ville dans lesquels leur château particulier se trouve. L'argent qu'on a déjà donné a fait beaucoup pour avancer le travail de la reconstruction. Nous fûmes charmées de découvrir que, quand il retombait dans sa langue natale, nous pûmes avec peu de difficulté le comprendre. Après que la dernière projection eut été montrée, le Duc voulut beaucoup une photographie des élèves de Northrop School. En conséquence nous nous assemblâmes au côté sud de l'école où Mlle. Bagier fit deux photographies des jeunes filles avec leur ami nouveau-trouvé. Comme cela fut une grande occasion pour les plus jeunes filles, elles démandèrent à grands cris des autographes que le Duc leur donna avec bonté. Ensuite on nous rappela à nos leçons qui nous semblèrent plus tristes que d'ordinaire par contraste avec l'heure très interessante que nous venions de passer avec le Duc.

The Princess Rahme Haider

It would seem that the good angels were plotting in favor of Northrop School, for this year we have had one delightful entertainment after another. Foremost among these events was a visit from the Syrian princess Rahme Haider and her charming companion Miss Burgess, who gave us a fascinating dramatic reading from the Bible. The entire school was held spellbound by the art of the princess, who made a very artistic appearance in her Oriental garb and had a charming personality. Princess Rahme Haider most assuredly gave us one of the most interesting and profitable programs of the year.

GRACE HELEN STUART.

[Handwriting: Sincerely Princess Rahme Damascus Syria]

ATHLETIC CALENDAR

October 2--The Riding Contest.

BASEBALL

November 2--VII, 2; VIII, 22. November 19--VII, 3; VIII, 25. November 24--VII, 5; VIII, 26.

HOCKEY

November 9--Senior, 1; Sophomore, 1. November 10--Junior, 5; Freshman, 0. November 12--Senior, 0; Freshman, 0. November 16--Senior, 0; Junior, 6. November 18--Sophomore, 8; Freshman, 0. November 19--Sophomore, 3; Junior, 0.

CAPTAIN BALL

March 3--VII, 2; VIII, 10. March 9--VII, 2; VIII, 3. March 11--Gold, 3; White, 10. March 16--Gold, 7; White, 8.

BASKETBALL--INTERCLASS

February 23--Junior, 13; Sophomore, 6. February 25--Freshman, 9; Sophomore, 20. March 1--Senior, 8; Sophomore, 10. March 2--Junior, 24; Freshman, 11. March 4--Freshman 5; Senior 5. March 8--Junior, 12; Senior, 19. March 11--Tournament--Junior, 11; Sophomore, 8.

BASKETBALL--GOLD AND WHITE

March 10--Gold I, 7; White I, 8. March 15--Gold II, 7; White II, 7. March 22--Gold III, 22; White III, 6. March 23--Gold IV, 11; White IV, 7. March 24--Gold A, 12; White A, 7.

FIELD DAY

May 21 and 22--Junior Field Day. May 27 and 28--Senior Field Day.

HOCKEY

This year a new regulation in regard to hockey practise was introduced. The girls were required to report twice a week instead of once, one of these days being given to stick practise.

The first game of the season was played on November ninth between the Seniors and the Sophomores. It was a very close one resulting in a one to one tie. On the next day, November tenth, the Juniors beat the Freshmen by a score of five to nothing. The game on November second resulted in another tie; this time a scoreless one between the Seniors and the Freshmen, which was most unsatisfactory to both teams. On November sixteenth the Senior-Junior game was played which the Juniors won six to nothing. On the eighteenth the Sophomores won from the Freshmen eight to nothing, and on the next day the game between the Juniors and the Sophomores was played. As no one had crossed the Juniors' goal since the beginning of the '24 season there was a great deal of interest in the game. It was an exceedingly hard contest, two girls being more or less knocked out during the game, but the Sophomores won by a score of three to nothing.

We were fortunate this season in having the weather remain so that we were able to play all the games on the schedule.

The Riding Contest

The annual riding contest was held on the Parade Grounds, Friday, October 16, Mlle. Bagier and Betty Fowler acting as managers. Although it was a cold and wintry day, a large crowd turned out. Dr. E. W. Berg, Mr. L. McFall, and Mr. William Hindle were the judges, and the Misses Anderson acted as ring mistresses. Everything went off very smoothly, beginning with the Junior Cup Class, followed by the Senior Cup Class, the Pony Class, and ending with Five Gaited Class. After the contest, tea was served in the gymnasium, where the awards were given out. The Junior Cup went to Ruth Clark; the Pony Cup, to Virginia Leffingwell; the Five Gaited Cup to Betty Fowler; and the much desired Senior Cup to Mary Louise Sudduth.

Base Ball and Captain Ball

On the fall the Sevenths and Eighths had several baseball games. They were very exciting in spite of the fact that the Eighths always won by a generous margin. However the Sevenths took the defeats so well that no one could call them "poor losers." After the snow came, captain ball began. The two match games were very interesting. The score of the first was 10-2 in the Eighths' favor, and of the second was 8-7, the same side being victorious. Then came the Gold and White games, both of which the Whites won. It was hard, but it was fun, to play against a girl that one had previously played with as a partner. These games brought out such good sportsmanship that we all enjoyed them.

BASKETBALL

The basketball season opened with much enthusiasm as soon as school began after the Christmas vacation. The attendance at practices was especially good this year, and the members of every class reported regularly. In order to arouse some spirit, each class distributed its colors among its rooters, and there was much competition between the classes in finding original yells. As a result of these efforts the crowds at the games were exceptionally good, much larger than in previous years. The Sophomore-Junior game, the first of the season, was won by the Juniors after a hard fight. The next two games were the Sophomore-Freshman and the Senior-Sophomore, which were both won by the Sophomores. The Juniors then played the Freshmen and were victorious. The Senior-Freshman game, one of the most exciting of the season, ended in a tie, much to the disappointment of both sides. The Seniors in their last game at Northrop played the Juniors and won. As a result of these games, the Juniors and Sophomores were competitors in the tournament.

The girls worked hard to make the gymnasium look suitable for the occasion and were rewarded for their efforts, for cheering and enthusiastic crowds filled the gym. The best yelling of the evening, however, was done by the Sophomores, who nearly raised the roof with their snappy and well-led cheers. Their serious and well performed stunt of forming and singing, contrasted with the ridiculous showing of the Juniors made on tricycles. After the stunts, the game began and certainly proved to be a close one. Although the Juniors were behind during a good part of the game, they finally won by a score of 11-8. The tournament closed the inter-class games and those of the Gold and White teams began.

In order that more girls might take part in the games, the upper school had been divided into two large teams called the Gold and White. These teams were in turn subdivided into basketball teams, and many games were played between these teams. Although the audiences were not all that might be desired the plan can be called a success since it interested more girls in the game. The White team won the first two games and the Gold the next two; therefore the final game between the two "A" teams would decide whether the Gold or the White team would win the basketball series. The game was won by the Gold team, 11-8. This game ended the basketball season, which has been an unusually good one.

I strive to wring from my unwilling pen A sonnet,--and all ordered thoughts pass by; Light as a swirl of mist, too soon they fly For my poor wits to capture them again. O sonnet unattained! For other men So easy to attain, but it is I Who struggle, and for me all goes awry,-- My efforts fond go unrequited then. "Why, surely it is but a trifle, this," They cry amazed, in sweet unknowing bliss. A trifle, yes, for Shelley or for Blake, They had not many extra marks at stake; I toil in vain toward a retarding goal,-- I fear the poet's part is not my role.

SHIRLEY WOODWARD, '27.

Gardens I Have Read About

Books are the means by which one may travel without moving. It is through the medium of a book that I was able to visit a garden in Italy. It happened to be a garden that was typically Italian and a very charming one. The entrance was through a vine-covered Tuscan arch at the side of a villa, and down several steps to a wide terrace. The sun was beating down outside, but inside this walled garden all was cool and refreshing. At one's feet were clumps of darkest green ferns, like miniature forests. At the bottom of the terrace there was a terracotta pool, where water flowers were drifting on their flat green pads. Around the edge of this pool and through an aisle of tiny fragrant pink rose bushes was a space enclosed on three sides by feathery greens. Here a laughing satyr was perched on the top of a fountain, spouting water in a silvery arc. Through a shaded avenue could be seen other secluded spots with marble benches in front of other fountains. In another direction was a grotto where water trickled down gray, moss-covered stones. Far in the distance were cypress trees waving their spear-like tops and standing guard over the coolness and beauty of the garden.

Very different from this is the sunny English garden that next I visited. It, too, was terraced and had fountains, but the water in these fountains sparkled in the sun, and the cool dampness of the Italian garden was lacking. On the terrace were occasional closely-trimmed yew trees, or box trees clipped in odd shapes. A curving walk, edged with laurel, led to the ivy-walled inner garden. Here, in the full sun and warmth, grew, not the delicate rose bush of my Italian garden, but sturdy, bold rose trees, and apple trees, above snowdrops, daffodils, and crocuses in round, oblong, and square beds. These had trimmed herbaceous borders, and gray flag walks lay between them. Beyond towered great elms, but even these did not shut out any of the sun, which reached the foxgloves and violets, transplanted from the moor to the corner of the wall.

Here in America, though I have never been East, I know I should feel at home in a New England garden. My entire knowledge of them has been gained from books, but I am sure, from what I have read that these gardens are quite as charming as the more formal ones of other lands. Separated from the street by either a white picket fence or a row of lilac bushes, grow in their seasons nasturtiums, pinks, larkspur, mignonette, sweet peas, and forget-me-nots, in neat rows. All these are in such profusion that one sees only the glorious general effect and fails to notice that the garden has been planted with total disregard to the blending of colors. At the back, against the fence, tall sun flowers flaunt themselves, while in front are clumps of gorgeous peonies, and at the side beds of fragrant mint.

All these gardens I think of when spring comes, and my yearly gardening fever seizes me. But at the end of two months, when my radishes go to seed before attaining edible size, and those of my flowers that are not choked by weeds have been dug up by other members of the family, I go back to the dream gardens in my books.

MARY EATON, '26.

DIXIE

An old man, ragged, but with an air of dignity, quickly glanced at his stop watch as a small figure, crouched over a shining black neck, shot by. With a thunder of hoofs the black horse whirled past and fought for her head down the stretch. She would win the following Saturday--she must! If she didn't then she too would have to go and leave the ruined old gentleman, who looked so feeble leaning over the white rail which enclosed the mile track. After much coaxing the black colt came mincing up to her old master.

The small colored boy, as black as his mount, was bubbling over with enthusiasm. "Dat dehby, Suh, is going to be won by ma Dixie," patting the curved neck of the horse.

The old gentleman looked up. "Mah boy, you must remembah that Dixie will have otheah good hawses to beat. Vixen is the favohite and very fast, although Ah know mah little black friend heah will do heh best to honah the purple and white," glancing proudly at the headband of the black marvel. "Next Satahday will decide it all."

A shadow fell across the colt. Looking up, the gentleman, known as Colonel Fairfax, saw a man dressed in a checkered suit and orange socks. On a tie to match was a monstrous, well polished diamond, which sparkled wickedly in the sun. The man stood staring at the stop-watch. "Ah beg yoh pahdon, Suh, but theh anything Ah could do foah you?"

The man, hearing the question, looked up, flushing. "Youh horse is a Derby entry?"

Colonel Fairfax eyed the horse reflectively and answered, "It all depends on her condition, and only time can answeh that." The man hurried away, leaving the old gentleman looking after him, a deep frown on his face.

"Washington, Ah am a bit doubtful about this new-uh-acquaintance," he addressed the exercise boy.

Each day, no matter how early Dixie was given her exercise, the stranger was to be seen loitering in the distance or walking briskly beside the track--seemingly deep in thought. His presence seemed to trouble the Colonel, who watched his colt anxiously.

At last, the final workout. Colonel Fairfax and the unwelcome stranger leaned over the rail, intently watching the black horse, which appeared to have wings. The stranger, who had been seen talking to the owner of Vixen, the favorite, annoyed the old gentleman; he was suspicious of this flashily dressed man and did not conceal his feelings.

Sundown, Friday, found the stable at Churchill Downs buzzing with excitement. The favorite's stall was surrounded by interested old racing men, who loved the thoroughbred and his sport, while a few individuals in gaily checkered suits crowded about, listening to the many "hunches" for business reasons only. An old man sat before Stall No. 7. Glancing up, he noticed two men peering in at Dixie. One was the man who had seemed so much interested in the mare's trial gallops. Through the half-open door of the box stall could be seen a horse in faded purple and white blankets. After a hurried conversation the two men passed on to the favorite's stall, where they smiled at the jockey, looked in, and walked on.

Long after the one-thirty special night train had whistled at the Downs crossing, a dark figure could be seen sliding along the stall doors--"Ten--Nine--; Eight--" Then it came to halt before Stall No. 7, and slipped through the door. It felt in the dark for the blanketed horse's neck. The horse jumped as a dagger-like needle was thrust into its neck. The colored boy, in a drugged sleep at the door of the stall, stirred in his dreams, but was still again. The door opened quietly, and the figure slipped out, leaving the horse in No. 7 leaning drunkenly against the side wall. A shaft of moonlight fell across the intruder's face, revealing the same man who had attended all of Dixie's trial gallops. Little did this unscrupulous person realize that the black mare was spending the night in an old deserted barn near the race track, guarded by an old gentleman whose mouth was twisted into a whimsical smile, while a "guaranteed-to-be-gentle" livery horse was leading a life of luxury that evening in Stall No. 7, Churchill Downs.

Derby day at Churchill Downs! Kentucky was doing homage to the thoroughbred. As the band played "Dixie," the Derby entries filed through the paddock onto the field. Proudly leading the string of the country's best two year olds, was the song's namesake, a true daughter of the South. With arching neck and prancing feet, Dixie, the pride of an old man's heart, took her place at the barrier. Her jockey looked up as he passed an aristocratic old gentleman, dressed in a faded coat which reminded one of "befoah de Wah" days and whose hat remained off while the horses passed.

The barrier was up, and the roar shook the grandstand. "They're off!!" The favorite, Vixen, shot ahead and seemed to be making a runaway race. Cheer after cheer rent the air. An old man clasped his program a little tighter and breathed a prayer. Around the turn came Vixen, but not alone. Crouched to the ground, a small black horse crept up to the flying tail of the favorite. Down the stretch the two thundered, fighting for supremacy. "Foah Kentucky, Dixie, and the honah of the purple and white!" As if she heard this plea from her master, Dixie bent lower. Then, her black nose thrust ahead, more than a length in advance of Vixen, she flashed under the wire, bringing "honah" to the purple and white.

NANCY STEVENSON, '26.

MY BUREAU DRAWERS

My bureau drawers,--I wonder what their contents could tell! Whenever I go through them with the firm resolve to clear out everything that I do not actually use, I always end by saving some things just for the sake of the memories connected with them.

Take that pink satin hair ribbon, for instance. I wore it for the first time with a new pink dress at a party in California. It brings back all the thought of California as I first saw it in nineteen twenty, memories of stately and haughty poinsettias, of date palms from which one could pick and eat fresh dates, of a dancing ocean with its myriads of lovely sea creatures, and its gaily-colored beach equipment, of an amusement park with the roller coaster on which I nearly had heart failure.

Then, in another corner, lies a string of green beads. What could better recall to my mind the night of my graduation from the grade school? The recollection makes me want to be in grade school once more. I well remember how one of my classmates forgot to bring the music to the class song which was to have been one of the attractions of the program. Disaster marked that evening farther when a tall Danish boy, looking the picture of selfconsciousness and misery, arose to give the farewell address. As nearly as I can remember, it ran thus:

"Ladies and gentlemen, on the evening of our graduation ve vish to tank de teachers and also de principal for de vork"--a long awkward pause--"ve vish to tank de teachers and also de principal for de vork"--a still longer pause, interspersed with rising giggles from the graduating class--"Ladies and gentlemen, ve vish to tank de teachers and also de principal for de vork vich they have done in getting us trough."

Then, there at the back of the drawer, is a black satin sash. It brings to my mind an entirely different kind of memory. It is one thing that I have left from the dress I wore at my grandfather's funeral. I remember all the tragedy of the occasion, lightened by one spot of comedy, my grandmother's losing her petticoat.

I dare say that some day I shall throw away these things that others consider rubbish, but I shall never part with the memories for which they stand.

POLLY SWEET.

A SURPRISE

It was early in the morning when Nancy Nelson awoke. She got up and put on her wrapper and one slipper, as she couldn't get the other one on, though she tried hard. "Ah," she said, "there must be something in my slipper." So Nancy felt in her slipper and then pulled out her hand. Why, there was a little package! "Who put it in there, I wonder," she said, quite surprised. Nancy asked everybody in the house. Then her mother said, "Nancy, did you forget that it is your birthday?" Then she opened the little package and found a small silver thimble, with the name "Nancy Nelson" on it.

ANNE MORRISON, Form IV.

THE DEPARTURE AND THE RETURN OF THE SHIP

It was a clear, warm day in late spring and a ship was leaving the harbor, its departure accompanied by a merry clanking of chains as the anchor was drawn up. The lusty cheers of the sailors floated back in echoes. The shore was crowded with the wives and sweethearts of these two hundred sailors, their brightly colored gowns and fluttering handkerchiefs making a lovely picture against the background of the green cliffs. On board the men were singing lustily as they performed their tasks and the last echo of their happiness floated back clearly to the little group on the shore as the ship dropped below the hill and out of sight. The women had already settled down to their period of watchful waiting and were trusting the safety of their loved ones to God, who had always protected them and brought them home safely before.

It was a clear, crisp night in late October and the moon was sending its silvery beams out over the quiet waters. Everything was pervaded by an air of mystery. Slowly, from far out at sea, a great ship came slinking into the harbor. As it drew nearer, it glowed with crimson lights. Then, suddenly every light went out and again the great mysterious hulk was swallowed up in the darkness. Not a sound was heard. Could this be the same ship that had sailed away so gayly three years ago? No one awaited its coming, for it had been long given up for lost. It came nearer and nearer, and a breeze, which had suddenly come up, whistled through its thin sails and moved the spars, making a sound like the rattling of dry bones. Then, as if in response to the command of a ghostly captain, the great, black hulk sank into the darkness under the water, leaving only a whirlpool to mark its existence. It sank as it had sailed in; slowly and mysteriously.