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

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was accompanied by a Junior, her Junior, she called her then, and a fragment of supper. I have seen the day when a person ' s eyes sparkled as if toasterettes had been diamonds, while a sardine sandwich moved them to tears. The spoiled portion of humanity may not realise among their poisonously prepared French cookery the suggestive pathos of a sprig of garlic or a chunk of scrapple. The tremendous fact of the meeting, which was as dramatic as the daily rising sun, and as awful; as melodramatic as its crimson setting, and as much of an anti-climax — was that the Sophomores did not discover our hiding-place and break it up. We elected our chairman, and, most happy, ended our evening under the Pembroke Arch. Margaret M. James. JLittlt 2®auht ant) $er fl©ama Dtslt B. £@ anb « m JDnt0toe ot tfjc $tt0toent ' 0 fDttitt THE afternoon light was waning as Little Maude and her mama ascended Taylor stairs and found themselves outside the President ' s office. What is this galaxy of wilted-looking people, mama? inquired Little Maude, as she struggled to find an empty space in which to plant her feet. This, my child, is the Freshman Class, responded her parent, mowing her way through part of it. And are they waiting for the Day of Judgment, mama? said Maude. No, my dear one. They are on their way to interview President Thomas about their courses. O, mama, who is that rude man with his watch in his hand, who nearly knocked me down just now? Hush, darling; that is an irate father. He has an engagement with the Pennsylvania R. R. in about three minutes, and he has been here since daybreak. See, they are letting him and his daughter in. That is the beauty, Maude, of having an irate parent. No Freshman should be without one. Fathers are just now at a premium, but in a few more years mothers will do just as well. Yes, mama, said Little Maude, sagely; votes for women, and she readjusted her suffrage badge. But, mama, what happens to all those who are not provided with parental protection?

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1910 ' iftitft Claaa Meeting ( With humblest apologies to Mr. G. K. Chesterton.) OBJECTION is often raised against a first class meeting, because it lays crude hands upon, and dives into the deeps of what should be sacred and secret about a class. Why have a first meeting? Why not leave tenderly unscratched that soil which will doubtless later yield both peaches and daisies in profusion? Everyone has felt the glaze of mystery over an unknown group of fellow creatures; surely it is a pity to draw the veil away too precipitately. Before a crowd has met to analyse itself, it is usually unconscious of being conscious; after the fatal step has been taken, it becomes conscious of being unconscious. That is to say, it feels its selfhood sink into interest in the others. It is a matter of irrelevancy whether a girl wears a bow on her hair, or a pigtail down her back; whether she has yellow, red, green, or pink eyes; whether her nose is a limb, or no nose at all, the fact of her having a personality is more startling than all the eyes and noses in the world. When we came to Bryn Mawr, we felt we were embarking upon the momentous fact of our lives. There is usually in the universe nothing as fanciful as fact, nothing as unreal as reality. We decided, then, if it were a dream, to take our places in the dreaming of it, and hold this first class meeting. It was first-class; it was first-rate (rated first of all, in fact) ; it was, in short, excellent and incomparable, there being no others for it to be compared to, or excel. We held it in the Abernethy ' s barn. Poetic spot! Has it ever occurred to you for what geniuses barns have been responsible? That Burns probably lived in a barn, and if barns had then been the fashion, that ancient wolf would have inhabited one, and Romulus and Remus graced our list. We felt, of course, that We were the first that ever burst into that silent sea ; we wondered how there could ever have been class meetings before ours, and, in fact, whether the college had existed at all before we came to receive the torch of wisdom. It is the world- old question of whether the lion roars in the desert, if there is none to hear him, and whether the college exists, if we are not seeing it. Oh! try, dear classmates, to recall that time, and become really full of the ancient ecstasies of youth. We have not utterly lost our inward warmth and geniality, under a thin coating of sinister pessimistic philosophy. That evening, before dark, in early Autumn, we stole to our rendezvous as proudly as any Baron de Gaulois or Count Vertigo to a duel in ancient days. Each member of 1910 13

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They wait here every day until a certain date, dear, and then pay five dollars for not having their course-book signed. And who are those benevolent-looking girls with yellow-and-white badges, mama, who stand around with such a look of wisdom? They are walking delegates, Maude, from the Christian Union, who work on an eight- hour schedule and show the Freshmen how to make out their course-books. And, O, mama, who is that tall Freshman over there, and what is she talking about so eagerly? She is telling her class-mates, Maude, what courses she intends to pursue in this first year of college. It is her ambition to become a medical missionary, and she is going to devote her time to French, German, and History of Art, registering as a hearer in Phil- osophy, Psychology, Geology, Archaeology, Greek myths, and Pragmatism. After her interview she will tell them that she has decided to take English, Biology and Physics. But, mama, cried Little Maude, none of those are what she intended to take at first. Of course not, my dear; that is the beauty of having an interview I But will the Freshman be happy in having her ideas changed about so? She will not notice that they have been, my dear, until she goes home and thinks it over. Till then she will be radiant, and after that it will be too late. Little Maude became exceedingly quiet. Mama, said she, at last, when I come to college will I have to interview President Thomas? Certainly, dear. Whereupon Little Maude walked slowly down Taylor steps and gazed long and thoughtfully at the sunset. Madeleine Edison. musty H5tgDt THERE certainly had been a traitor! There was no other adequate solution, for we had never sung or even thought of that rush song except when we shouted it in Music Room G — and that room was sound-proof. It was unfortunate, too, in the light of Miss Thomas ' repeated allusions to babies and kittens, to have Wow, wow, wow, turned into Meouw, meouw, meouw, because even we understood the implied ignominy. A hurry-up meeting in the afternoon saved the situation with The Sophs are out this evening, and fortunately the song itself was conceived at such a late hour that a repetition of the morning ' s tragedy was not possible. u