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H I G H
i
HIGH SCHOOL STAFF
Beaut ine Hubert, Thelma Brock, Frances
Whipper, Clara Haywood, Rebecca Duhart,
Elizabeth Courtney, Hilda Evans.
LIBRARY OPEN EVERY
HOUR
Last year when library assignments were
made, the students would whisper to one another
that they wouldn’t have to worry about their
lessons, because the library wasn’t open during
their vacant periods. W hen the High School
girl would come to class the next day, and the
teacher would call on her to recite, she would
say, “I couldn't get into the library.”
Well, this year the teachers can give as many
assignments as they wish, because the library is
open every hour in the day. The students, as
well as the teachers, are thankful for every ef
fort that has been put forth in keeping the room
open.
THE MIND OF A HIGH
SCHOOL GIRL
I’m so tired sitting here in study hall. Wonder
why nothing ever happens to keep us from here.
The lights might go bad, but then, they would
wait until Sunday night to do that. This Eng
lish assignment is too long. Emerson is much
too deep for me. What shall I wear to the
football game? Emerson says—O, I forgot
about my history exam! Gee, I’m hungry. Guess
I'll pile up these books and take a doze. Gi-
bralter has nothing on these books. Can’t sleep
—I’ll see what Carlyle says. “Blessed is he
who has found his work.” Work! Always
work! Don’t agree with Carlyle. Nothing to
it. O, there’s the bell. Never enough time to
do our lessons. Gee Whiz!
THE NIGHT WATCHMAN
By Thelma Brock
He swings along at his steady gait, with a
great clock under his arm. His figure, clothed
in black, makes a ghostly outline against the
blacker night. His eyes that seem to peruse
the very core of things, are of steely grey, and
bushy dark eyebrows overlap them.
Cold winds blow! Bright stars shine. He
tramps on—this sentry of the grounds. Never
tiring—never shirking—a perfect protector under
the stars.
NEWS ITEMS
High school students are interested in the new
art course which has been added to the curricu
lum. The instructor is Miss Rose, who has had
special training in art at Mount Holyoke College.
The two literary societies, Johnsonian and
Scipionian, started their regular work by having
a joint meeting in the assembly hall of Giles,
Friday, October the twenty-fourth, at three fif
teen. A violin solo by Josie Jackson was fol
lowed by a dramatic skit on the Colonial period,
given by a group of seniors from the American
history class.
THE CAMPUS MIRROR
S C H O O I
SYMPOSIUM ON FREEDOM
Twelfth Grade
“Relax your soul, and you are free.’’—Gwen
dolyn Holland.
“If the fowls of the air are free, and man
has dominion over them, why shouldn’t man him
self be free?”.—Pauline Talley.
“No leaf that hangs on a bough is free to fly
or fall when it desires to. Nor is man free
from the laws of Nature. Nature keeps all
things bound by her laws.”—Wilhelmina Harris.
“Freedom to me exists only for imprisoned,
non-soulful beings.”—Miriam Orse.
"A small person cannot ever be free. He
isn’t big enough to recognize his faults.”—Thel
ma Brock.
“Freedom comes from suffering or oppres
sion.”—Annie Roberts.
“We are not free so long as everything we
do is done to assure the pleasure of doing some
thing else.”—Florrie Jackson.
“Freedom is an uncontrollable movement that
can grow, but cannot be destroyed.”—Lottie
Lyons.
Freedom! Freedom! Freedom!
The bird in the gilded cage beat her two
golden wings frantically. Freedom! Freedom!
It seemed as if her innermost soul cried out for
this thing so long denied, her. If she could only
be free! She beat her wings against the cruel
bars until tired out, then sank to the floor.
As she lay panting there, her mistress came,
and with gentle hands took the bird, fondled
her, and put her on the table until she could
clean the cage. The bird flew gladly around
the room, thinking how good it felt to use her
cramped wings. When the cage was shiny and
clean, the mistress took the bird gently and put
her back into the cage.
Now it seemed as if she must surely go mad.
She made die short flight from one side of
the cage to the other again and again, until
finally she knocked against the door.
The door swung back. The bird gave a glad
little cry. Straight as an arrow she flew out
of the window. Her heart overflowed with
joy, and she sang merry, joyous songs.
But, as she flew and sang, she soon noticed
that she was in the midst of a steadily increasing
number of birds. They swooped at her. They
darted at her. She was afraid. So down,
down, down she dropped, until, finding herself
by a window, she flew in.
Here at last she was safe.
After she saw that the birds did not dare
venture indoors, she dared once more to go out.
Swifter than before, she skimmed on. But,
after the warmth and light of the house, the
air seemed strangely dark and cold. Small
A TRIP TO WEST END
By Beautine Hubert
“Let’s go to West End this evening. I’ve gotta
have my dress cleaned,” suggests Myrtis to
Lavada. After mature reflection, it is mutually
decided that a trip will be made to West End.
Standersby bear tbe prediction and humbly re
quest, “If it does not necessitate too much self-
abnegation, will you please bring back just a few
things for us?” (Long lists are presented to each
of the girls; they express their pleasure to be
of service, and depart).
The trip in process: As old familiar places
are passed, former experiences are related, to
which laughter or humorous comments are the
response. However, the girls are not too busily
engaged to notice the changing of the red light
to green as they cross the street, enroute to
the ten-cent store. Visits are made to the clean
ers, shoe repair shop, bakers, ice cream factory,
and last, but not least, to the sandwich shop.
It is usually very hard to enter the shop with
out seeing a fellow student or teacher. But
this time it is even more interesting! The shop
is remodeled very attractively.
“They certainly must prosper in this business,”
Lavada manages to say after much pondering.
“One of these days James and I are going
to set up a place like this nearer Spelman so
the girls won’t have so far to walk.”
“Myrtis, there you go with some more of
your chimerical ideas!”
While giving thanks this Thanksgiving, don’t
forget to give thanks for West End. What
would Spelman girls do during the week, if
there were no West End?
TRUE STORY
It is great fun at times to see the girls so
anxious to ring the tower bell. They feel very
much hurt when turned down. You would think
that there isn’t any fun in it, but Packard girls
think it a novelty.
white objects began to fall faster and thicker
around her. Almost frozen, and unable to see
two feet ahead, she beat her frantic way on.
Just then before her loomed the lights of a
house. Straight to the light she flew, and when
she saw the window open slightly at the top, she
pushed in and sank, weak and shivering, on the
floor.
As she looked around her, her eye was at
tracted by a large gilded cage, its door swinging
idly back and forth. For some reason, it looked
familiar. She took a few steps toward it, cold
and fatigue forgotten. She took a few more,
she stood on the door. She entered. She
seemed to have come home. With a contented
sigh, she curled up in one corner. The mistress
came in, gave the bird food, and gently closed
the door.
The bird, as she ate her evening meal, saw the
gates close behind her. She felt no regret.
She cared not for freedom so long as she was
warm, well fed, safe, comfortable.—Virginia
Hannon.