Tennessee Wesleyan College - Nocatula Yearbook (Athens, TN)

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A TRIBUTE TO DEAN MILLER When school life at Tennessee Wesleyan is over, and the dooi ' s of this institution have swung to behind us, it will be a great pleasure to think back on the happy days we have spent here, and to think of the friendships we have formed. We feel sure that no boy or girl will go from this college who does not feel that he or she can be a bigger, a broader, a better citizen for having come in contact with the dean of this institution. All of us have been touched by his life — so serene, so calm, so splendid, so beautiful, so uplifting. Uncon- sciously he has influenced some of us — per- haps all of us — to live more helpful, more con- secrated lives. All unaware to him he has been wielding this influence over us. Ever since we have known him it has seemed to us that he is living a very consecrated life — a life that is in close touch with the master. Perhaps that is why he has been able to set an example that we, the freshmen of Tennessee Wesleyan are anxious to follow, and are trying in our weak way to do so. All the noble and manly virtues — truth, purity, honesty, chivalry, are wrapped up in his life. If we had to de- scribe him in one sentence, we would say, Ho is a christian gentleman. We think of him as our friend and as such we speak of him. We realize that he is by far our superior, but he always steps down to our level and discusses questions with us as though he were one of us. He seems to under- stand boys and girls better than most college professors. I suspect that is why we go to him with our cares and troubles, whether seri- ous or slight. After a while we will be able to appreciate even more than we do now the value of his work in instilling into our minds some of his own lofty ideals. Even now we feel a great debt of gratitude to him for all he has done for us during our short stay at Wesleyan. He has done everything in his power to make of us true American men and women. Words are inadequate to express how truly grateful we are for all he has done for us, and how glad we are that we have known him. We pray that God will let him continue his good work for many years, and that other girls and boys will come under his influence and will be touched by his life as we have been — and that they they may be made happy because of a sym- pathizing and understanding heart. CONFESSION The winds blew down through the pine thicket just above the house, and its mysterious whisperings seemed to have a strange effect on the little freckle-faced boy who sat beside a grim-faced old woman. A cricket chirped once, then again. He seemed to be experi- menting. He succeeded, suddenly he was joined by dozens of crickets from the cornfield, and from the meadow. A few lonely frogs croaked hoarsely. The little fellow moved nervously and turned to the woman beside him. Gramma, ' he said, I ' m cold. But the woman gave no heed; her face was set and hard, not with harshness, but rather with the hardness of one who has been forced to play life ' s game alone, and found it difficult. She was short but sturdily built, and her stubby hands were browned and hardened as any man ' s. She was past sixty, but her eyes still held a gleam of determination. The con- trast was striking: An old woman who had won life ' s fight alone, and a nervous whip of a lad whose every whim had been a sacred command to a doting father and mother. The wind increased slightly in force, and the soft whispering gave place to a slight whistle that somehow came just a second be- fore the little fellow shivered from cold. A tall pine by the side of the road that bordered the cornfield began to assume grotesque forms to timid blue eyes. A pair of long thin arms went upward and an attempted yawn almost failed as a quiver- ing voice said. Gramma, I ' m sleepy. The set face remained stonelike, and the old woman did not move. She was probably re- viewing the battles she had fought in life, and most of them alone. The wind came through the pines, and now the whistle was shrill. Each one brought fi ' om the small boy an involuntary shudder. The pine now took the shape of a terrible giant, and the youngster shrank into his chair. The cloud which had been so pretty at sunset was a dreadful dragon with a tail that swept far away and dissappeared behind old Cardell. The huge bullfrogs from the pond set up a howl that would rival a modern bombardment, and the little tree frogs joined in like the continu- ous dropping of rice on a hardwood floor. The voice of the boy broke into a wail as at last the truth came forth: Gramma, I ' m ' fraid. — Earl Henry. Page Eleven

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JUNIOR CLASS HOROSCOPE EDITH HUTCHINS Benton. Tenn. Has Been : Go-getter. Wants to Be : Led to the altar. Will Be: Led to the altar. HANNAH SCOTT Etowah, Tenn. Has Been : A teacher. Wants to Be: Well educated. Will Be: Well educated. GERTRUDE MC KENNY Jacksonville, Fla. Has Been : The girl of his dreams. Wants to Be: Verified. Will Be: The same. BLANCHE ROMINE Sweetwater, Tenn. Has Been. Awf ly sweet. Wants to Be: Growed up! Will Be: Some day! AZALEA FARNSWORTH Sweetwater, Tenn. Has Been : A history expert. Wants to Be: A magician. Will Be: That. NELLIE ERWIN La Follet, Tenn. Honors: S. L. S. Has Been : Sassy. Wants to Be: Mrs. Jimmie? Will Be: A French teacher. IRENE JACKSON Tyneer, Tenn. Honor: S. L. S. Has Been: Pleasant. Wants to Be: Mrs. — Will Be: A saleslady. MAC RAY— Mac Newport, Tenn. Honor: A. L. S. ; Football and Basketball man- ager; Pi Phi Pi. Has Been: A crum. Wants to Be : A Cleveland citizen. Will Be : A tramp. IRA REED— Slim Riceville, Tenn. Honor: Fattest boy in school; A. L. S. Has Been: Good natured. Wants to Be : A tight rope walker. Will Be: A movie actor. THE JUNIOR LOCOMOTIVE We, the largest and most powerful class, have taken as a symbol of our power, the loco- motive. Let the dignified Seniors have their parlor car. Let the Freshmen and Sophomores be the rails (we hate to run over them, but we must). We owe the power of this locomotive, let -us call it The Cooperation , to a vast number of active parts. Our engineer, big boss, and president is, of course, none other than Mr. Charlie D. Me- haffey. He has guided us on a straight course and we have succeeded in every undertaking. Our shining headlight, Helen McCay, lights our way through the darkest hours. Our fire- man, Sam Adkins, keeps the steam up and the hot air circulating. If it were not for our boiler, Pee Wee Crowder, Sam wouldn ' t have to work so hard. Our whistle, Mildred Holbrook, instead of giving a decent warning like all good whistles should, sounds like a wild goose, at times. When our throttle, Neal Ensminger, is wide open, we pass anything on the road. Our two cylinders, Ira Reed and Doyle Patten, are bigger and better than ever. No wonder we have made so much progress, look who we have for drive wheels: Lillie Cannon and Bill Harrill, Max Hester and Grace James, Ollie Mae Smith and Robert Clayton, Sarah Belle Fritz.e and Earl Henry. Edna Rogers is our brake, through her we slow down for curves. Helen Bernard is our bell, assisted by the clapper, Grace Green. In Joe Brown and Mamie Bryson, we have flexible safety valves. Carson Pyle is our smoke stack. We have two bumpers, Sady Lacy and Irene Jackson. Cath- erine Thompson is a good natured coal car. She has as her front wheels, Gus Riddle and Helen Lee ; rear wheels, Grace Taylor and Ruth McAlister. Page Ten

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A PLAY IN ONE HALF AN ACT Time — When Knighthood was withering. Scene — Ye Royale Golf Course in the front yard of King Macintosh ' s castle. Two knights are arrived at ye golf course to joust with golf clubs, and decide who is to be champion of the Royal Realm. A motley aggregation of Royalty, pages, servants, knights, foot soldiers, and booze hounds, are making merry, rooting for their favorite, wav- ing banners, throwing coca cola bottles and sounding Ford horns. The first knight (a favorite of the crowd), i.= seated on a diminutive brown mule. This knight is long, tall and thin, his legs drag the ground as he rides- He struts up and down before the crowd like a plucked pea fowl. The second knight is strikingly the opposite. He is very short, inclined to chubbiness. He is seated on an enormous black mule whose droop- ing head and large, loosely flapping ears speak of extreme age. The second knight ' s round cherub face is wreathed in baby-like smiles as he rides up and down before the crowd. A few minutes of this parading and they dismount, their caddies stepping forward with drivers, offering one to each. First knight, in preparing to tee off. taunts second knight. Ah! Opponent! If I might call thee such! Art optimistic today? Second knight beams and smiles blandly in reply. First knight to his caddie — Varlet! Stand not like the dumb swine thou art, out with the golf balls and on with the show. I must keep a tryst at evening tide. His caddie, quaking with fright, forms a small mound, places a ball on the top and shrinks out of the way. First knight struts up to the ball, brandish- ing his club like a halo. He pirouettes about, all the while making cows eyes at the fair damsels on the side line while getting his form. He pauses, raises his club slowly and de- terminedly. The crowd is silent in open mouth suspense. Wham! He hits the ball squarely! It is a beautiful drive, three hundred yards down the turf. He steps grandly back, smirks and bows to the crowd, which applauds him loudly. The second knight steps up and places his own ball on the mound. He proceeds to get a semblance of form. It seems, though he is so short and fat, he cannot use the driver with freedom. He finally pauses, and slowly raises his club. The crowd jeers him loudly. Wham! The white sphere rizes high in the air. The crowd almost faints. The ball gains a good altitude, then heads for the cup like a homing carrier pigeon. A hole in one ! ! ! ! The first knight cannot believe his own eyes. He stands in a daze until his caddie slips up to him and whispers, Fie! My Lord ' Be nonchalant! Light a Murad! — Jo-An. CURTAIN TO OUR PRESIDENT James L. We liken him to a strong, dependable guide who, by knowing the road over which we are traveling, will not let us miss the finest points of interest along the way. Sometimes the road has branched off into new and more inviting directions; roads that slope downward ; that we do not have to put forth much effort to traverse. Our guide has always, through his knowl- edge and e.xperience, sensed these periods when we have faltered, and, by appealing to us, perhaps through a short chapel talk, or an occa- Robb sional word privately spoken, has given us new courage, new incentives, and renewed hope. We cannot fully appreciate the good that is the ultimate result of the interest he has had in our welfare here at Wesleyan, but when he has shown us the way to the top of the hill that borders the rugged Valley of Life ; and when we have parted with him there, then we may fully realize just what he has meant to us. He is a MAN in the finest sense of the word, physically, morally and mentally. We, the Freshmen of 1930, deem it an honor to have reasons for calling this man our friend. Page Twelve