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Page 17 text:
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£0ap 2E ap The May Day Fete, arriving in accordance with the well-ordered cycle of the Bryn Mawr universe, found our class in its first irresponsible months of college life when all things alike look rosy. It is no worthy tribute to May Day, therefore, that we liked it immensely and that it holds for most of us, since we have forgotten our weariness and our trials, memories quaintly colored with romance. Of course there were some chosen spirits whose dramatic ability was early dis- covered, and who were made to flinch in every Freshman sensibility while being coached into roles of Elizabethan brilliancy; and others, responsible characters, who bore on their shoulders the burdens of management. But for the most part we danced and wound garlands with care-free hearts, enjoying only the pleasanter aspects of the preparations for May Day. Even one long, nagging day of rehearsal did not daunt us, and in the evening we danced like elves in the cool moonlight to the music of our own tinkling bells. But soon after the beautiful, fair dawn of the first of May, we began to be annoyed by the arrival of relatives, who came in large numbers, and with charac- teristic promptness, to condole with us because we were distractedly busy. But with the conviction that it is an ill wind that blows nobody any good, we set mothers and aunts to sewing bells on our caps and pleating our ruffles, while all available fathers and brothers were lured to the battlements of the towers, from which, at the peril of their lives, they were induced to hang out banners at the encouragement of dairy- maids, court ladies, and clowns below. Besides these difficulties we had trials even harder to bear ; the amiable cupids began to remonstrate that the sun had an evil, blistering effect on their necks, which, after all, their ambrosial locks left but poorly protected ; then for the first time it oc-
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Page 18 text:
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curred to Henry VIII and Queen Elizabeth that it would be unconvincing for both to appear at the same pageant, and they put their crowned heads together to solve the anachronism. After the difficulty was removed by the simple plan of convert- ing the picturesque queen into a portrait of herself, the royal tram in heavy bro- cades ascended to a conspicuous parapet, where they might see and be seen to the greatest possible advantage. They made the ascent with the aid of an uncertain ladder and a muscular workman to assist the last dizzy steps at the top, only to find themselves completely extinguished behind the battlements they had scaled with such peril to life and properties. Then there was some difficulty about the chim- ney sweeps, who complained naively that they simply couldn ' t make themselves look ugly even by applying smudges of soot to their faces — an opinion with which the well-meaning newspapers of the next morning agreed. Our real disillusionment began, however, when we saw the soft, white lambs, which, with the courage of our ignorance, we had imagined could be led about by silken cords, or guided with graceful crooks and which we had pictured as adding the last exquisite touches to an Arcadian scene. At last they arrived. But they proved to be the most unlamblike of creatures— large, dirty, grey sheep, each with a mind of his own, and an ingrained antipathy to parade or ostentation of any sort. When they were desposited on the campus in the midst of a crowd of observers, they all, to a sheep, trotted off towards Radnor, divi ning that there at least they might find seclusion. All this was disillusioning, and by the time the procession began and we found ourselves with determined smiles advancing in rather forced capers between lines of spectators, where an occasional familiar face had power to put one into an agony of self-consciousness, we were for a time quite blinded to the romance of the situation. But when the plays began, we forgot to do anything but try to please an apprecia- tive audience. Then, even the abandoned looking Morrice dancers felt the gravity of the situation. Whenever there was a lull in a play, this motley troop was called for and came jingling over the green, dodging amused faculty and friends, just in time to catch the last words of their cue — Some entertainment, ho ! Strike up the Morrice dance ! at which they ran on the stage and went through the dance to its last unearthly yell. Even the most troublesome details of that day are pleasant to think of now, and one is apt to linger too long over the time when Merrie England came to Bryn Mawr. Eleanor Bartholomew.
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