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

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Ancient History Page 27 THE Aborigines had been nothing, but the Ancients, at the dawn of a new era, expected to be Something. They knew better soon. Oppression from the higher ranks they expected and were resigned to, but what shocked and surprised them was the freshness of the upstart poorer classes, who had suddenly arrived and were pampered and raised beyond their station in life. This was due to the religious fervour stirred up in all classes for that great festival, May Day, the climax — and the cloudburst — of the era. Records of this period found in the temple of the old god Taylor (known for the splendid incoherence of its architecture) tell of a ceremonial called Peascods, some sort cf rite known as pageantrchearsal. and the creation of fragile paper flowers. Antiquarians have found in that quaint activity the inspiration for the famous line of Swinburne ' s, I shall never be friends again with roses. The Venerable Applcbce in a little brown frock was the moving spirit of this period, holding sway impartially over man and beast, dragon and worm. Stories are still current about the untiring devotion of this Pontifex Maxima, who called forth the crowds to the daily practice for those spontaneous pagan gambols. Meanwhile, even in the temple of the old god himself, there had sprung suddenly into being a new cult, Publicity. Strange and painful orgies of stamp-licking were held in its service: we have documentary evidence to prove that these hardy peasant folk were capable of absorbing from twenty-five to seventy steins of mucilage at a sitting. Closely connected with this cult was the choosing of the May Queen Golden hair was a definite requisite — but what about sophistication? The neo-sophistication school and their candidate found overwhelming opposition in the back-to-nature school (for these were simple folk on the whole). But they did not give up without a struggle; and so on more than one day the town hall was filled with golden heads and bitter words, while the townsfolk considered which candidate best fitted the smart but simple green dress. This was a century of divination, and prophets and seers constantly watched the signal flags on Dalton roof or, inside those sacred portals, dissected rabbits and dogfish to observe their viscera and to predict from this the weather of that all-important day. And when the day came, it was heralded by the Insurance Man. Early in the morning he appeared, and was seen, like Pontius Pilate, gravely washing his hands in the insurance dish and thereby decreasing the bulk of the water. This seemed unfair: and when it was noticed, some thoughtful soul stood guard over the dish, protecting it with her umbrella from the man — and from the rain. Bulk of water is to insurance as amount that man took out is to his hand. BRYN MAWR NOTES and MONOGRAPHS S