Atlantic Christian College - Pine Knot Yearbook (Wilson, NC)

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Senior Class Prophecy After many fruitless invocations to those weird sisters who control the des- tinies of human beings, I decided to give up the task and let the future of the Class of Nineteen Hundred and Thirteen portray itself in its own good time and place. For how could I prophesy without help more than mortals could render? So one warm, bright day in the latter part of January, not having anything in particular to do, I made my way to the woods that lay back of the plantation. This woods was composed of tall pines which spread a bright, hopeful green over the gray skeletonlike limbs of birch, oak, and hickory and screened their hopeless attitude from the distant observer. The sunlight came flickering down, softened to a gray twilight. Into this refuge of solitude I plunged, awaking echoes with every step among the thickly strewn dry leaves. Presently I reached my favorite seat beneath a large ancient hickory that stood on the bank of a little stream which trickled down and flowed into the mill stream a few hundred feet distant. Seated here, listening to the softened roar of the old mill, I suddenly came to myself by the falling of a large bright hickory nut. Glancing up, I saw a saucy gray squirrel who eyed me enviously as I picked up the nut and proceeded to crack it upon a large root of the tree with an ancient pine knot. Suddenly, I jumped and stood trembling, not with fear, but with surprised delight; for on the root, with spreading wings, were five of the daintiest, airiest little fairies, deli- cately colored—blue, white, yellow, lavender, and crimson respectively. They few in a circle from right to left, forming a most exquisite rainbow. Then they disappeared and I was left to listen to the crooning melody of the mill. A moment later the one in white returned and poised herself gracefully before me. Opening a tiny book, she read: “After leaving A. C. C., Sallie Bridges’ love of a practical life caused her to take a special course in millinery. Having finished this course, she found profit- able employment in several small towns for a number of years. Finally, when she had gained sufficient experience and capital, she established a business for herself in one of our prosperous western towns. Now, she is sole proprietor of one of the largest and most fashionable millinery establishments in New Orleans. They say her husband is a very gallant Scott. Then she folded her book and departed with a very knowing little nod. Then without any ceremony the fairy in crimson approached, carrying a tiny crystal which, while I looked, seemed to grow larger and more luminous. Pres- ently I saw a large, magnificent audience, breathlessly listening to the rendition of one of Bach’s selections. The pianist was none other than my accomplished friend, Elsie Langley. The fairy turned the crystal and looking again I saw a multitude of women listening to a suffragist’s speech. Upon closer examination I saw that the speaker

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thing there stood all the teachers before us. We were horror stricken but only for a moment, and in a short while, people passing the streets saw several teachers standing erect in front of several trees. They could not imagine why but, at second glance, saw a long rope wrapped very artistically around the tree and also, a teacher. Who were the leaders in all this? Why, the Sophomores, of course. After this frolic we settled down to hard, earnest work, for we knew in a few more months we would climb to the next niche in the educational wall. Finally examinations were over and we prepared to leave once more. With many handshakes, good wishes, and hopes to meet again as Juniors next year, we scat- tered to our homes. Once more the wheel of time made its round and we found ourselves again at our dear college to face the responsibility of Juniors. Of necessity the Junior year was more quiet than the Sophomore or Freshman, because we had passed from the rainbow days of our incipiency into a more sober realization of the work that lay before us. We had only nine Juniors, but we were willing to face any difficulty and we did not care if the other classes did call us “uppish” or “con- ceited”; we worked with all our might, and we are sure we accomplished great things. Four years have passed and we are now Seniors. When we arrived at col- lege in September we were sorry to find that some of our classmates had failed to come back. Only five of us—all girls—are left. However, we have set our faces toward the future with a determination to win or die. The other classes are somewhat envious of us this year because we, being Seniors, have Senior privileges, such as keeping on our lights after light bell, going on long strolls, and—having young men callers once a month, when such calls are sought very eagerly. We have felt our importance and I think the people of Wilson have also, for didn’t they entertain at the college in honor of the Senior Class? and didn’t they have the Wilson Orchestra for our pleasure? The A. C. C. boys have also known our importance, for they gave 11s a grand reception over at their home. We have enjoyed this year more than we can ever tell. But, now that we are drawing- near the close of our college days at dear old A. C. C., each one has the feeling that our past efforts have been successful, and that we are better prepared for the battles of life. The goal of our ambition has been reached: we are now ready to graduate into the trials and joys of life, and as each of us goes his separate direc- tion, we hope to scatter sunshine and happiness to all the world. Often in the future we shall turn again the pages of memory and live over in our dreams the hours we have so happily spent together. And so, dear friends, we leave Atlantic Christian College, our dear old Alma Mater, which has become so dear to each of our hearts. There is not a spot, not even a leaf or the tiniest bud around this campus, which is not sacred to each member of our Class. Historian.

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was Elsie and that she carried a pennant on which were the words, “Woodrow Wilson for President of United States for the third term.” It was then I real- ized the true worth of oratory and that woman’s sphere is not confined to her own fireside. Before I had time to recover my thoughts, the fairy in blue had taken the crystal and was twirling it lightly with one hand. Then bringing it to a rest, I saw, on a sandy shore under a great bamboo tree, a crowd of eager brown faces apparently listening to the words of a neat little brown eyed girl, who seemed to be reading to them. Then the scene changed and I saw Eunice Andrews seated under a palm tree looking intently at what looked like the form of a man in the distance. As he came nearer, I recognized that he bore that indefinable stamp and carriage of a minister, besides that unmistakable air by which I would recog- nize my old school friend, Kenneth Bowen, anywhere. Putting two and two together I decided that they were missionaries on one of the islands of the Pacific Ocean. Next came the fairy in yellow bearing a tiny note sealed and addressed to me. Opening it, I read: “For a long time we were undecided as to whether or not Susie Gray should study for a trained nurse and be associated for life with a cer- tain young surgeon. Finally we saw that her splendid home advantages and con- genial social surroundings had fitted her especially as the dainty little butterfly who could lead awkward and diffident young men in the art of taking graceful steps and making fancy figures under the influence of alluring music.” Lastly appeared the fairy in lavender, gaily waving a bright colored cane. Stationing herself before me, she began by saying: “You dream of a neat and attractive country home, but ambition and a desire to see the outside world will overrule your dreams. So, after leaving A. C. C., you will go to Brooklyn and take a course in Domestic Science. Then instead of teaching in the State School, as you had intended, you will marry a jolly old widower.” Prophet.