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

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THE BOOK OF THE CLASS OF NINETEEN-ELEVEN 25 they stepped out of the cloister door, for it made a vast difference. Often the rhythmic beat- ing of the tin pan by the fountain and the shuffle and sway of the line overcame their sense of obedience and caution and they would burst into song, only to be suddenly hushed by the person behind. On the whole, Lantern Night went off well and the class was very graceful in its acceptance of compliments on the singing. No one said a word about that galley ser- vice in the moist morning when we staggered and tottered into the cloister before breakfast trying to achieve that most difficult of feats, to keep our breath and our balance going down steps. In looking back you realise that those were grand days. Our feeling for freedom per- mitted us to sing any song any way, not caring who wrote it either, how, when, or why. Each singer felt at liberty to put forth her own interpretation and often there were as many render- ings as there were girls to rend them, but on the whole the effect was fair and anyone with a sufficiently wide range of musical knowledge could come somewhere within ten composers of the song we were singing. For let it be known that our choice was exceedingly varied, extending from Wagner to Weber and Field. Now I have spoken only of those dear lost voices, and they were lost, through no fault of their own. Let us turn for one brief moment to the people who really did the musical work and rode hard on the outlaws and uncertain members. It was Norvelle Browne who for two years gave us a clear firm starting note and had voice and faith enough to keep many people on the key and some people somewhere near the tune. Among these latter ones were a few staunch adherents, who knew a good thing when they saw it, noticeably Leila, who would get near enough the air occasionally to strike a fine alto. Most of this happened Freshman and early Sophomore year and was in the golden age of our singing life, when it never dawned on the class that it was not a body collected solely for the purpose of regaling the campus with song. Then no one was discouraged and everyone sang. About the middle of Sophomore year was introduced a regular system of Black Hand, which kept many of our most lusty members under a sort of vocal cloud from which they could but occasionally burst forth and could shine only when out in such company either where it was thought that they could do no damage, or where kind friends could not get at them to remonstrate more forcibly than by savage glances. By the end of Sophomore year the reign of terror was having an excellent and most salutary effect on the fractious ones, and the busy pens, pencils, and brains of Betty, Delano, Mary Frank Case, Amy, P. Rice, and many others were putting out enough songs to keep the class busy on the athletic field,

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24 THE BOOK OF THE CLASS OF NINETEEN-ELEVEN It would be hard to place these singers satisfactorily because they could excel in so many parts. I know Rosie would have made a bully Parsifal; but I ' m not quite so sure about Alice for Kundry. However, she might do the part with real feeling, and thrill the house as she came crashing down the wild cadences of Wagner ' s magic maniac. But alas these things, which I picture before the ardent members of the most noble class ever graduated from Bryn Mawr, are only the fleeting visions conjured by a doting classmate who sees what might have been from out the that which is not. Nothing can be done, for the time for working such wonders is past. These with others of that vast crop of frosted blossoms fell withered beneath the bitter blast of ingratitude blowing from off the iceberg of our class-spirit. For goodness sake, don ' t sing so loud in the Lantern Song, your flatting puts everyone off the key, were the biting words which cut deep at the roots of some truly musical emotions when the desire to sing was opening the lips of some Freshmen as the Spring sap opens the petals of the crocuses in the cloister — (a good old classical illusion). It may thus be stated that it was with the fervour of the early Christian martyrs that the various music committees worked, sorting and re-sorting the sheep from the goats. In spite of the most scrupulous care in selection there were some sad mistakes and many a student who was thought sufficiently white and fleecy of voice to be admitted to the flock of the chosen few, developed most alarming traits which soon put her into the category of the refractory members or black sheep, and from there it was but a short step to the limbo of the goats. In fact, in spite of the game of weighing in the balance, which F. Wyman and B. Taylor started in music-room G, there were found to be a shocking number of those found entirely wanting in every musical requirement. Some couldn ' t carry a tune wrapped up in a basket and others were discovered to have no sense of rhythm and could keep the jolliest waltz time to the most solemn march ever written. Having mentioned the committee in terms of semi-disparagement — at least, as regarded their inhumane treatment of the goats, — I feel called upon to give some idea of the results of their efforts and also of the patience of the mutes. Dawn hours and wet feet was the lot of the average singer — to that add a petrified smile, which had to be maintained at all costs, and you get the fate of the musical directors. They, of course, had to be examples of cheerfulness and early rising. About seven-thirty, — it should have been quarter past, — a chastened and saddened multitude went beneath the Arch and proceeded to the library. In this procession worried mutes walked by the sides of singers and busily tried to remember just which foot came on just which syllable when

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THE BOOK OF THE CLASS OF NINETEEN-ELEVEN while our polite ditties to the upper classes, inspired by some of their illustrious members, should have ensured us a place on their good books forever. At the end of Sophomore year the Herculean labour of a song rested quite easily on the class shoulders and we stood at the foot of Senior steps and sang our returns of 1909 ' s praise quite happily. We seemed to give each other confidence singing en masse and had an almost touching faith in our starter. Toward the end of May the songs took a sadder note and moist-eyed Sophomores began to count the days before June should scatter the protecting red class to the four corners of the earth, perhaps never to return. At last the end came and 1909 ceded the steps to 1910, and the old classes stood shoulder to shoulder on the ground for their last collective song. Mutes and all broke into Thou Gracious with an astounding vehemence and it was the strength of the rush which carried the song without a tearful breakdown. Junior year was one singularly lacking in all musical efforts, save the singing at dinner of the May Day songs in which 1911 merely followed the lead of 1910. It was fortunate for us that little was required for we had lost so many voices that we needed time to recover and to develop another leader. What we lacked in song we tried to make up in dignity — but it is a question as to how we succeeded. In the course of time we were given the steps and we did manage to get up without mishap. I suppose every class that takes the steps for the first time feels as though it had stolen something and l ecn taken red-handed; but in spite of emotion we did start Thou Gracious and were for the first time full-fledged singing Seniors. In the Fall of 1910 anyone coming on the campus about half past seven would have heard a sound of voices, — but — it was not around the psalmist ' s crystal sea, and if it had been I am sure those harpers harping on their harps would have thrown down the instruments along with their heavenly crowns and beaten a hasty retreat from the scene of confusion. The sound produced was wonderful and fearful. The curious may want to know what I ' m driving at— well it ' s 1011 1 Senior singing, and that is something that won ' t be driven and can ' t Ik- led. There was the class gathered on Taylor steps in all stages and kinds of attire, fighting merrily over and around the patient form of Pinkey who had been made leader— ■ position much like the one of the person who blacks his face, sticks it through a hole in a canvas and dodges the ball of the ardent pleasure-seeker who aims to hit the nigger-baby, and thus get a good cigar— well it was a toss-up between Pinkey and the other fellow. There she sat m media res ducking her patient head and waiting for the storm to pass. From the descnpUon it may be gathered that Amy was not there. Each girl had a request for a song