University of the South - Cap and Gown Yearbook (Sewanee, TN)

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©he ( ap anb (frown 25 who had determined to do some hard reading. But the whole summer iSlipped by me in the same way, and the meeting of the Board of Trustees which I had planned to avoid, was on me before I knew it, and I would not have left for anything. A mild excitement began to pervade the place. Bishops seemed every- where, and clerical and lay-trustees were as thick as trouble. I contem- plated putting on a black coat and a white tie in order to be in the fashion. The opening services were really fine. The bishops and clergy in their vestments, the faculty in their gowns and hoods, the Chancellor and Vice- Chancellor in gorgeous robes of academic state. It seemed that I had not fully realized the University before, and when this imposing procession entered, preceded by the choir and ended by this blaze of colour, a feeling of wonder came over me that this thing was so hid in a corner. That night was the contest between the societies. I had forgotten all about the model boy, and when Tompkins, the star of my society, came forward, I was in almost as much of a tremour as Miss Jemima. I smile now as I sit here in a far-away city when I remember the type of thing over which I lost my head at Sewanee, and how thoroughly I became im- bued with the spirit of the place. I called Mrs. Z. ' s our house, and her quota of students our students, was desperately exercised over a lunch she gave the Trustees, and worked tooth and nail to assist the Hop Com- mittees. On the night of the contest I was extremely impatient with the judges who were to decide which society had won the honors. I called those elevated personages all sorts of slow things, and threatened many punishments if they did not at least divide the honours. And when at last they announced that the honours were divided, one society taking the Oratory cup, the other society the Essay cup, I made quite a spectacle of myself, and began immediately to congratulate red and blue badges with a wide and indiscriminate charity. All Commencement week we were in a whirl of excitement, culminating for the young people in the Commencement Hop. Everybody was there. The whole Board of Trustees, including Bishops, were looking on. All officials of all kinds, from the janitor looking in the window to the Vice- Chancellor shaking hands with all the mothers and sisters. For every fellow wanted the Vice-Chancellor to know his people. The only member of the community missing was old Bunny, the University mule, that trotted the mail wagon from place to place. I danced with the girls ' school and with charming young ladies from 3

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24 ®ite ( ap txnit (f oxvtx. The church was a temporary structure that had been patched and added to until in was a most conglomerate piece of architecture. It was churchly, however, and after the first moment I never again remembered that the benches were not painted, and that only the main aisle and the chancel had any carpets. The altar was ablaze with flowers, but no candles, and the light thrown on them from a corona of lamps was beautiful. The organ and the cornet were played by students, and the choir-master was also a student. I had thought the music sweet as it came, but once in the side door the volume of sound was remarkable. Everybody sang. I saw two, and sometimes three, students leaning over one hymnal, and found myself imitating a rain-crow most successfully. It was a lovely service. The responses sounding like a roar to one who had come from a whispering city church ; and I wondered, Have I ever prayed and praised before ? And the sermon ? Well, I felt turned upside down morally, and decided that I had not been converted, and was not half the good fellow I had thought myself. On Monday I went into a number of the class rooms, and was delighted with the course of study ; but this investigation had the same effect on me mentally that the sermon had had morally ; and I found out that I was not quite as learned as I had thought. On Thursday evening I was taken to the E. Q. B. Club. The lead, the discussion, the supper, were all good, but the stories that came after, the mossy jokes of Miss Angelica ' s description, were more jolly than words can say. Everything was very simple, but framed in the truest good fel- lowship, and the most whole-souled hospitality. On Friday some one remarked, You have been here a week. I looked up in astonishment. Only that? I said, slowly; if you had asked me I should have- answered, ' I have been here all my life. ' How extraordinary ! And you have not seen a newspaper, Miss Angelica went on. I made sure you would grumble about that. A paper! I repeated. A paper! Does the world wag still? Are they still murdering, and lynching, and embezzling, and lying, out in the fury-haunted world? I am sorry you reminded me of it. It was really remarkable how time had flown, how busy and interested I had been, and yet how I had accomplished nothing except contentment ; J

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26 ®ke ®ap anb omtt. Chatauqua without either fear or trembling, and emphatically changed my mind as to those places. We had a grand time. Then the Trustees went away, and I called to mind the fact that, sooner or later, I also must leave. It was with deep regret that I saw October approach, and watched the gorgeous colouring that was falling like a veil over the woods. This change signified to me a fading of the summer and a parting with all my good friends. , It was with a heavy heart that I made my farewells — heard the last hymn fade away — looked at the last sunset — took my last walk ; for the love that had grown up in me for Sewanee made even Jim ' s hack horses seem swift trotters, and Cowan the beautiful gate to a happy land. And I think there is not, and never will be, another place like Sewanee, where lives and fortunes wrecked by the war have been swept together from out the turmoil and rush of the modern world. A place where the widow and orphan find refuge, where all live for and by the University, heeding little s ave where that is touched. A place where politics are sel- dom mentioned, where State lines seem to be forgotten, and bank accounts are not worshipped ; where the Commencement takes the place of elec- tions, where the Vice-Chancellor and Proctor are of greater importance than Congress and the courts, and where the Church is supreme. Happy Sewanee ! where peace is more peaceful, and charity is love and not a science. And now, sitting alone in my far-off city home, where my windows look out on stony, snow-covered streets, I call up in the gloaming all the fair pictures of my Sewanee Life. I can hear the water forever falling over the mossy stones — I can see the purple shadows creeping up the gorges as the day dies — I can feel the dash of the wind and watch the great trees wave below me, as standing on Poised Rock I look out to the valley lying like a dream — I can see the hillsides yellow with golden-rod, the ravines shady with ferns, and the picture of the dim beechwood in Lost Cove comes up so vividly that I seem to see the yellow sunlight flickering up and down the dappled trunks of the trees, and hear the fading laughter of the scattered party as they wander far and near. It all comes back to me with a sadness I cannot fathom. All the patient, earnest faces of the workers, all the simple life I led there, touching me like the days of my childhood. And some faded fern leaves are all I have left, save one hope, of which more anon. Sarah Barnwell Elliott.