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.
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.