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

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20 THE BOOK OF THE CLASS OF NINETEEN-ELEVEN : 4; f ' W r W» J, CHOOSING THE THE notices posted on this particular occasion by our secretary did not state that the business before the meeting was the choice of a class animal. But we all knew not- withstanding; and our Freshman hearts thrilled with that sensation, possible only to Freshmen, of being about to do something irretrievable: something by which we, as a class, would stand or fall in the eyes of the college. All of a sudden, we were roused to tremendous interest in the fauna of Bryn Mawr and its environs. At least we sought out such of the fauna as had the misfortune to be coloured green. And all such green animals we looked up in the encyclopaedia, where we discovered the qualities of their inner souls; also, much information concerning their symbolism in ancient days (as will appear later). Then, crammed with information and ideas, and crammed also with antagonism bred by recent controversy at the luncheon table, we betook ourselves to class meeting, ninety strong. The nominations took place as they would in any election. The list read as follows: frog, scarab, chameleon, green dragon, and peacock. After they were closed, I believe that

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THE BOOK OF THE CLASS OF NINETEEN-ELEVEN 19 that dared 1912 to lay hands on one Freshman. Detailed to clear out the halls before the rush entered, we encountered one persistent party of ghosts which had to be dragged out by the heels from some room on the ground floor of each hall. The corporealness of their supposedly spiritual bodies made it stiff work, and we felt justified in bumping them along the floors as we hauled them forth. Then, too, there was a curious weight, a feeling as of solidity to their rushes without violence at doors of the various halls. If there were any Freshmen in that rush, I don ' t remember them (I suppose there must have been, however), but the uproar, and the pushing, and the fighting, all so strictly without violence, were simply wonderful. It was with a proud consciousness of our superiority and yet with undignified regret and open longing that, with satin capes and supercilious smiles, we watched the same old rough house sweep past. Past! Ominous sound, yet for us there was one thrill left in Rush Night. Our bones creaking and gray hair waving in the breeze, we had the satisfaction of taking our places on the Pem West steps and of starting that first Anassa. Margaret Prussing. •Is it Hvputlt to write this way about Senior year

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THE BOOK OF THE CLASS OF NINETEEN-ELEVEN 21 Ruth was on the point of asking the nominees to please withdraw, when she realised the difficulty involved. Since then, however, I have been told of a class, one of whose members had the honour of being nominated as class animal. We, however, simply proceeded to speak for our nominees. Scottie made a fiery and eloquent speech in favour of the frog. I think most of us know where her ardour for a frog came from. Thus inspired, she spoke at length of his beauty, grace, and decorative quality. Members of the biology class, how- ever, thought only of the limp, bony (not to mention odoriferous) creatures that awaited them with outstretched arms in Dalton; and Scottie did not, so to speak, carry her audience with her. Then another spoke in favour of the scarab. She reminded us of what a charm- ing ring it would make, and we were all delighted with the notion until someone vaguely suggested expense. Imagine dispatching a little order to Egypt of eighty scarabs for the Junior Class! Besides, said Scottie, clinching matters, in her snappiest tone, As if any one would want to have an embalmed bug for her class animal! As for the chameleon, we dealt with him most scornfully. We recalled his propen- sity for changing colours; a propensity of which, even in those early days, we felt ourselves incapable. Then Rosie addressed the chair. She said, both loudly and fervently, that she thought a green dragon would be beautiful! Again she repeated the remark, with that intense empressement of which only Rosie is capable. We somehow felt that Rosie must know a dragon personally; that she must have deep, intimate reason for her feeling about dragons. We dared not protest. So we passed to the next candidate. He was mine. Someone had given me two peacock pillows for Christmas, and I couldn ' t help thinking how nice they would look, decorating a class show, or something. Also, I thought I remembered having seen peacocks in the Catacombs; and behold! the encyclopaedia had revealed to me wondrous facts concerning the elusive bird. After I had endeavoured to set forth these facts in polished English, the inevitable protest arose. The peacock was the bird of ill-omen. Oh, well, that was mere superstition, far beneath us as Bryn Mawr students! And finally it was said that 1911 had a reputation for conceited- ness (a thing which, by the way, we did not long retain), and that the peacock was the symbol of vanity. Then I played, as I thought, my trump card. Fresh from research in the reference room, I replied with dignity: Anyone with any education at all would know that the peacock stood for immortality. But then Scottie, who also had been to the reference room, rose and retorted with fervour: Anyone with any education at all would know that the frog stood for inspiration! I relapsed into painful silence. Both of us had perjured our souls, but it would have