Philadelphia High School for Girls - Milestone Yearbook (Philadelphia, PA)

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9,0 - If , Q 'I I I Twill The Prophecy He who works in rhythm carries a song in his heart to lighten the burdens of life W1 'l A 11 e nna Ross and I were taking our much longed-for trip abroad, we were rambling l a ong a country road in England, and happened to come upon an old unoccupied house. It was an object of curiosity and we stopped to gaze. The early -part of the afternoon had been dark and h ' ' ' s owery, but it was clearing off now, and though sullen clouds still hung overhead, yet there was a tract of golden sky in the west, from which the setting sun gleamed through the dripping leaves, and lit all Nature into a smile. Stepping inside the house, I seated myself on a window-sill, and was musing, as oneiis apt to do at twilight, on past scenes and early friends, and indulging as Irving writes in th t k' d J, , , a in of melancholy fancyin g which has in it something sweeter even than pleasure. All l a one I sat, for Anna, now a world-famous scientist and artist, had left me to seek more treasure for her art-art which a reat cr't' h 1 ic as said resembles oetr for in each ! are numerous graces which no m th d ' ' e o s teach, and which alone a master hand can reach. I was suddenly startled by a harmonious droning rhythm vibratingthrough the air, and finally these words became audible- ' . She has come! Our watch is through, , Hear, Oh Prophet! Hear whats' true! Lo! By my side stood an enchanted Eolian harp, upon the strin f h' b . . . V gs o W ich the gentle reezes rose and fell, bringing forth melodies. And, as I looked I seemed to see a circle of girls standing where the sun beamed do 5 wn upon them, their faces rapt and happy as, singing, the beautiful strains accompanied them. Led by Edith McMullen, the sweet voices of Alice Pollock, Isabel Reilly Reba Russel and Ann M , a ae Schilpp delighted me so much, that I knew these girls were making the worldhappier' day by day with music. . ' O4 -1 Y V -M VL VJ A -Z Y AY- :ig 'I HT AV I H -H in g -ind' V Y H .ami-V

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And as their bright lips sang they caught So beautiful a ray, s That, as I gazed, I almost thought The spirit of their lay Had left, while melting in the air, . Its sweet expression painted theref' Gradually their faces disappeared, and the music alone remained. Where had I heard those words before? Why were the strains of music so familiar? As I mused, the sweetest, most winning little girl took her place before me, and I knew who the author of the verses was, Alice Rodman, our poet- ' Thy fame the archives of the world do now unfold, and future times shall tell, too, of thy renown. s ' r As the harp continued playing the refrain of the song, I wondered again why the strains were so familiar, and at thethought, our great musician, Ida Orum, seemed to stand beside the instrument, and I realized that Ida's aim in life' had been the quest of happiness from music. . He who works in rhythm carries ever a song in his heart to lighten the burdens of life. The music continued, and Matilda McNasby rose before me. A foot more light, a step more true than hers we really never knew. On, still on, the harp played, and with its persevering, pure and precise rhythm I was carried along till I saw before me dozens and dozens of little girls and boys. Lena Rutberg -and Amelia Reeves, with true epitomes of school marms, purity, propriety and precision, were trying their best to show that I seen, you was and the many more such, are incorrect, and I beheld on their faces the assurance that keeping everlastingly at it might bring success. , I just then the harp gave forth a phrase of tremendous happiness, and the great chemists, Drs. Lavie, otherwise Estelle Levy, Jane Murrow and Blanche McNeill appeared, each holding in her hand a beaker of some chemical substance. Their happy faces seemed to say 25 . .