Sweet Briar College - Briar Patch Yearbook (Sweet Briar, VA)

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Now don ' t begin to make excuses, she interrupted, bu1 gel your hat and wraps and I ' ll lake you to see the members of your graduating class of nineteen-ten. Wise old Mother Goose! She knew I could resist thai trip least of any oilier that she mighl offer. I quickly turned hack to the room, snatched up a pen and wrote a few lines to tell of mv departure, and then putting on hat, coat, and gloves, 1 mounted with much trepidation behind Mother Goose on her p el steed. Oh, it isn ' t necessary to squeeze me to death, said Mother Goose, as I frantically twined my arms about her, for this way of riding is as easy as sitting in a nicker, and nut anything like as uncomfortable as those old-fashioned air-ships which are still so much in vogue at the present day. This reassured me somewhat, but still did not nearly prepare me for the absolutely delicious sensation of goose-riding in mid-air that I experienced as we started upward on our flight. After the first amazement hail passed, I be- came keenly alive to the facts of my queer situation, and greatly infatuated with its novelty. Looking below, I saw the dim outlines of my little town, and as I looked these outlines gradually melted away and gave place to what seemed an endless amount of green. You have probably been wondering, said Mother Goose (though strange to say, such a wonder had never entered my head), how I happen to know of you and your class-mates. However, unknown to any one, I have taken a groat interest in that now world-famous college of Sweet Briar ever since it opened its doors in the early part of this century. My interest, seemed to center especially in the first graduating class. Since then I have kept up with each of its members. It occurred to me the other day that I might make myself known and give one of you the benefit of one of my annual trips, so I decided to stop by for you. My, my, continued she, what a remarkable career that little class of five has had! What names the members have made for themselves! I know you must be anxious to see your friends again. Only have a little patience now, and in several hours ' time, I will land you safely at the home of your nearest class-mate. We will take the girls in turn as we come to them, and the first stop we will make will be at an Powell ' s.

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■■■■■■ Extract From a Diary ' March, 19-30. MY poor old Diary, to think T haven ' t touched von for a month! But so much has happened in that time that now I will have to start in at the beginning and tell yon all. It was a raw and dreary afternoon in the middle t ' February when, tired (Hit, 1 was sitting alone in the library, luxuriously indulging in a cup of tea and gazing into the glowing coals. In the morning ' s paper I had read of the bril- liant wedding of one of my old college mates to a distinguished foreign noble- man, so, now recurring to this in my thoughts, I gradually began to review in memory all those dear old golden days at Sweet Briar. Absorbed in such memories, I -was greatly startled by hearing a queer noise outside of the window. Goodness, what on earth made that screeching sound? I exclaimed in an irritable manner. I had just recovered my composure and was on the point of pouring another cup of tea when the same peculiar sound was repeated. Well, I said, I ' ll find out this time what that noise is. As I started in the direction of the bay-window, the noise came for the third time. I looked up, and the sight that I saw made nie doubt my senses. Had I gone crazy, or merely become a child again with childish dreams coming true ' . For whai do you think was there on my window-ledge I None other than old Mother Goose seated on the back of her big, white goose! Mother Goose with her high peaked hat and broom, just exactly true to her pictures! At the sight, all of my boasted self-control left me, and while I was en- deavoring to catch enough breath to admit of a scream, the old dame leaned forward and beckoned to me in the mosl kindly manner imaginable. In answer, I sprang forward and opened the window. Ah, my dear, exclaimed Mother Goose, it certainly took you a long time to do that. I had to rap three times upon that window and I was lie- coming impatient. However, my deal ' , gel your wraps and mount behind me, for I want to take you on a trip. Come on, don ' t keep me any longer. But, Mother Goose, I began. I

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) Why, I said, is she still Xan Powell V Indeed she is. She is one of the few women who have sense enough no1 to marry, lint don ' t ask any mere questions and yen can find out all about Xan when yen see her. For a long time after this we rode en in silence. Gradually it began to grow dark and from far below faint lights began to twinkle. As we advanced these lights grew brighter and more uumerous until they looked like myriads of fire-flies. Why, Mother Goose, I exclaimed, almost in awe, what wonderful place is this we are approaching? I expected suc h a scene to astonish yon, -he replied. Why that, my child, is New York City. Don ' t fall off, for we are going to land in just about one minute. Even a- she wa- speaking, I could feel we had begun to make a gentle de- scent. We went down and down, and finally came to a stand-still. We had alighted. I found, en a very small balcony off from an upper window of a tall building. Mother Goose leaned over, tapped upon the window-pane and emitted a series of sounds such as she bad first used to attract my attention. Several seconds passed and then I saw coming toward the window one of the familiar faces of by-gone days — Xan Powell. When Xan raised the window I stepped in, and I leave it to you to imagine the look on her face when she recognized me. for an instant neither of us moved nor -poke, and then such greetings! We were both so excited that Xan didn ' t even notice Mother Goose, and in fact 1 was on the poinl of forgetting her when she called : I ll return for you, Eugenia, to-morrow afternoon at the o ' clock. Good- bye until then. And before I could speak she had gone. Well. Diary, Xan and I talked ami talked. We discussed and reviewed every detail of the past, and exchanged personal histories from the year nine- teen-ton. Xan, I learned, was now holding a position in Columbia University never before held by a woman. She was Professor of Philosophy. Xan told me all about her experiences as school-teacher after finishing college, and also of how she had gained her M. A. degree, and of the years she had then spent in gaining her Ph. I . degree. She worked hard, ami at last when almost despairing, she met with success. She solved her problem, viz., to