Chicora College for Women - Nods and Becks Yearbook (Columbia, SC)

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a grand success. The second event was the cordial invitation from Clem- son College to be their guests on their annual field day. Never was a happier, merrier company of girls than our Chicora clan on that memo¬ rable day. We were greeted with a royal welcome and were entertained with every courtesy and kindness possible to be shown. As Seniors, we have now reached the summit of all our ambitions. We are on the mountain top. “The traveler owns the grateful sense Of sweetness near, he knows not whence, And pausing takes with forehead bare The benediction of the air.” We stand with our talismans untarnished, on the threshold of actual life. For we shall go out as trained workers into the harvest fields of the world. Comrades of 1913, the future is before us! “Press on! 7 ' here’s no such word as fail. Press nobly on! the goal is near. Ascend the mountain; breast the gale! Look upward, onward—never fear!” Tone Rowell, Historian.

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The Mountain Climb Roll back thy (hist Of dark broivn years, Reveal the paths Our feet have trod. ' O N a bright, hopeful day in September, we, a large party of moun¬ tain climbers, flying the banners of Chicora, stood at the base of Mount Knowledge, which towered far above us into the heavens, w e were eagerly awaiting to make the ascent which would cover a period of four long years. Before proceeding up the mountain, we found it necessary to make some preparation for the journey. Others who had gone before us had told us that somewhere, near the foot of the mountain, was a beautiful valley in which could be found exquisite gem-stones. The peculiar property of these stones lay in the fact that the y were talismans to those who possessed them. They had this virtue: that they would give us perseverance, faith, strength, courage and application to hold out till the end. We readily found the valley, but after a careful search only six out of such a large number of us were fortunate enough to find a gem. With these coveted prizes in our possession we pressed forward, but with little realization of the trials and labors before us. On the way was hard study. Our work happily, was diversified by athletic sports, in which our party became truly famous, winning the championship cup in basket-ball for three consecutive years. With the beginning of the second year’s climb we were tainted with “hydrocephalus” and visionary. Several of our party had fallen but the ranks were augmented by accessions from other schools. They, like our survivors, had been to the valley of gems and brought their treasures with them. These new comrades were a valuable addition. Bright and pleasant are the memories of our sophomore days for they were days of big things with us. We still held our prestige in basket-hall. Under the able guidance of Miss Bridgman and Miss Witherspoon we did some practical work for our Alma Mater. We presented a play; with the proceeds from which we added about a hundred volumes to our library. Our Junior year found us hard and determined travelers. We now began to see that our journey amounted to something. Realities were taking the place of our visions. Two principal events marked our Junior year. 1 he first was the Junior-Senior reception. The large number of gentlemen present attested to its importance and our popularity. It was

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Prophecy of Class of 1913 O NE Wednesday afternoon, as I was worrying over writing this prophecy and trying to think of something original, Randolph rushed in, saying: “Lewis, do stop bothering with that prophecy and be sociable. Hurry up, get ready, and let’s ‘be going’ to the fortune teller’s. We Seniors have permission to go this afternoon.” “Fortune teller’s?” “Yes, didn’t you know there will be a grand one in town to-day and to-morrow? Here’s where Senior privileges come in. Child, did you ever hear of anything so grand?” “Say, let’s go early so we can shop a little. This prophecy can wait for a more convenient season.” I was ushered into a small inner room, heavily curtained, where the semi-darkness and the odor of the burning josh-sticks filled my very soul with awe. After I had crossed Madam Eda’s palm with silver, she glad¬ dened my heart with the assurance that I would be a physician, the dream of my girlhood hours. A number of girls had gathered in the reception room, and as I was waiting for Randolph to have her future “read,”—for someone else was now in the room,—I caught sight of a long passage. Wandering down this hall I spied a door, and upon turning the knob it yielded. I stealthily pushed it open only to find myself facing thick curtains. But what was that I heard? Was it not Madam Eda’s voice? Here was my oppor¬ tunity to satisfy my curiosity as to the fortunes of the other girls. I could hear the monotonous voice continue its wierd chanting and these words fell upon my listening ears: “And behold under the guiding influence of the great instructor Philippe you shall become a potent factor in the musical world.” At first I could not recognize the vo ice of the recipient of such a for¬ tune, but at last the proverbial, “Oh, how cute,” and I knew this must be Mabel’s promise for the future. I could hear Mabel’s distant footsteps grow less distinct, then a laugh, a heavy tread, and I knew Catherine had entered the room. There was silence for a few moments, during which time I supposed Catherine was performing the necessary preliminaries. Then again the low mumble, but this time I could not distinguish the words. She spoke for it seemed an indeterminable length of time, then I could hear Catherine exclaim: “Am I going to be an editor? And of a paper called Wit and Humor?