Bryn Mawr College - Bryn Mawr Yearbook (Bryn Mawr, PA)

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recognized, and took a place about halfway down. Soon a pair of hea vy hands were drop- ped upon her shoulders and a cheery voice said Good evening, I don ' t believe you remem- ber who I am. The tall beauty gasped wildly — this girl sat at her table where every one was awful and had such table-manners, and finally ejaculated Oh, yes it ' s Miss Shenk. A spasm of rage contorted the visage of Miss Shenk then she smiled sourly and said: No, Skenk— I think that ' s a little better, don ' t you ? What a question to ask a pathetic freshman! Soon the line started, and then began the work of revenge. Instead of lightly allowing her hands to rest, like fluttering butterflies, on the shoulders of the girl in front, Eunice put all her weight into them, and dragged comfortably. This was hard enough on the bean- pole, but when they came to the stairs — oh, it ' s hard to portray the pathos of that picture! Then Eunice took a tighter hold, tucked up her feet, and hung! Harriot is about two feet taller than Eunice at any time, and when she was one step higher up on the stair-case, the diflPerence was terrible — Her breath was absolutely gone, but she managed to gasp; Can ' t you put your hands on my waist instead of my shoulders ? but that did no good — Eunice was evidently paying back for being called Shenk . But even this was not the worst — On the way to Denbigh, Eunice slipped off the grass to the path — an imperceptible difference— and sprained her ankle! But why tell of the agonies then? Her fair roommate feebly murmured Fm afraid that Eunice has sprained her ankle. Had I better take her home ? Then the beast-of-burden ahead nobly answered, between sobs of breathlessness, Oh, no, if she ' d really sprained it, she couldn ' t walk. She ' ll be all right in a minute, and took up her task again— But Miss Shenk was forced to drop back and then the clarion shout of 1907, march along. Hurrah, rah. Hurrah rah, was increased by the silvery accents of our melodious Harriot. But such bliss could not last long. Soon the iron hand within the velvet glove fell with a sick- ening thud on her heaving shoulders, and the pack-animal with a groan, realized that flights of song were no more for her. Such was her task that the derisive shouts of 1906, and the encouraging cheers of 1905 could not penetrate to her brain, rapidly becoming lethargic, and it was with a weak, half-dazed smile of relief that she stood under the arch, and with fascinated eyes, watched Ethel de Koven cheering madly, a strange jargon end- ing, la, la, la, de K— Bryn Mawr, Bryn Mawr, Bryn Mawr. This isn ' t a very clear account of rush night, but it is all that lingers in the memory of Harriot P. Houghteling.

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close to a window where we could see somebody studying in a beautiful room, a perfectly stunning girl, whom we never saw again. Why wasn ' t she out to see the fun ? How could anybody fail to be excited ? j r r i After ages we got there, and walked around a long piazza, that made a fearful noise under our feet, no matter how softly we walked. Here there were ever so many Jumors who took such a personal interest and breathed sighs of relief to see us, and pushed us and pulled us, away from the figures that were snooking around in the dark corners, whom we were as ready to embrace as Juniors, then hurried us up endless stairs and into a big room where a little point of gas lit up an endless number of barely distinguishable upturned faces. We were three if not four deep, and it was so stuffy we could hardly breathe, but the 1905 people at the door wouldn ' t let us talk or open a window and soon we had even to put out the light. A few more were shoved in on top of us and they told us to hurry up and elect or 1906 would get in. Somebody whispered Augur. We got deadly quiet all of a sudden, and shook with the awe of the thing, beside, we didn ' t know how to e lect. But urged again we broke forth into a wild chorus of Augur, Augur. There was no dissenting voice, so we concluded she was elected. Then somehow we got to our feet and tumbled out and down the stairs in a fearful jam. The whole house was resounding with a great racket of cheering, and the hall was packed with people who were very much pleased with us as if we had done something quite remarkable. We were so dazed we didn ' t know where we were, but we managed to answer the cheering in some inarticulate fashion. It was all over in less than no time, though it took so long in the preparing. But we talked of it half the night, and still like to think of it, once in a while, for it is a part of that strange Bryn Mawr full of mysteries and excitements, a Bryn Mawr that never really existed, but once lived in our ardent imagination, and now remains in amused and won- dering retrospect. Elizabeth Bogman Pope. ' Theirs not to reason why Theirs but to do and die ' On the night of Sept. 29, 1903, our tallest member hurried down to Radnor in response to an order she had received to meet there at quarter past seven, and found a mob of chattering girls, none of whom she had ever seen before, she felt. As they were forming in line, two by two she sought the place that she had always been taught at home would be hers, the head of the line, and found it occupied by that Boston pair, Williams and Hutchins. So she modestly fell back, feeling that her superiority would sometime be 8

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Ciie 2Dean ' fl? iaeception It was with fast beating hearts, that we donned our best frocks, pinned on our most ornate bonnets, and took our way to the Deanery. Of course we had met Miss Thomas before, but in an unsatisfactory interview, where we lurked in the shadow of a parent, while a howling mob of mothers stormed the door. Now we were to go on our own responsibility, take tea with Miss Thomas and tell her our views on college Hfe. Those of us who had acquired Junior friends so early in the game, were buttoned and pinned by them and sent forth with their maternal blessing, and many directions as to how we were to greet the Dean. We gathered round the Deanery door in trembling groups, no one being bold enough to be the first to venture in, we rehearsed the remarks that we had prepared, our best wit for Miss Thomas, our second best for Miss Gwinn, shut our eyes and made the plunge. I believe we sat down at once and heard Miss Thomas ' remarks about college tradition. For the first time we heard the magic tale of the single case of two roommates, no engage- ments with the faculty, etc., stories that were to be such good friends to us in after Hfe. In spite of the thunderbolt Miss Thomas launched the next minute, in her talk on tradition she unwittingly laid the cornerstone of our future dramatic literature. Then, sandwiched in between the interesting origin of the daily bath habit and the statistics on Harvard graduates, came the mild statement as to the advisability of omitting the Freshman Play this year. In a very few words she convinced us of the thorough wisdom of this plan, we began to behevethe Play was a traditional myth, that its only appear- ance during the year was at this function, when wise Freshmen, such as we were, rejected it in scorn. Academicity for us, down with the drama! In this frame of mind we shook hands with Miss Thomas, swallowed our chocolate and ice cream and conversed in subdued whispers about the newly-learned traditions. A few of us who had heard of former college plays had a vague feeling that all was not well, but we were resolved to make a firm stand for the purely academic life, and, strong in this purpose, we bade Miss 1 homas good-bye. With most of us, the modest ambition of reforming the college vanished on the Deanery steps, a few clung to the thought until they were almost past Taylor, but when we reached our respective halls, with one accord we fell weeping into the arms of 1905, to sob out our •childish woes upon their sympathizing shoulders. Is it heresy to say that 1905 hailed this opportunity for scrap with something akin to joy ? No, it was their love and affection for 1907 that made them plunge into the matter heart and soul. Of the struggle that went on among the higher powers we knew little, we were merely informed of the happy result when thesystemof ten hours of rehearsal and something like Keith ' s became established as a new tradition. Cornelia Lynde Meigs.