Chicora College for Women - Nods and Becks Yearbook (Columbia, SC)

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The hospital was supplanted by the little village of B-, at the foot of the Adirondack . Quite a commotion was being made among the inhabitants of the village by the arrival of a tall, stately young woman who announced herself as Miss Dorroh, and an inventor. A woman inventor! The bare mention of such a thing so astonished these timple-minded people that they demanded an explanation as to what led her to he such a thing and what she had invented. She told them her curiosity and then began producing her wares to convince them of the truth of her statement. • First came a tumbler- dryer which would thoroughly dr}T seventy-five tumblers in the space of a minute. Then came a most wonderful machine which would remove the soiled linen from eight tables, putting in their places spotless cloths. The women and girls took to her immediately, and she was allowed to remain. Soon, by her inventions and discoveries, she established for herself an ever- lasting fame and became the wonder of the surrounding country. The next scene was a courthouse in a certain city of our native State about which was thronged an enormous crowd of people of every description. A visitor, not knowing that this was court week, would naturally enquire the occasion of such a crowd. Having been told that a big case was being tried, I elbowed my way through the crowd and into the building. My notice was at once attracted by a young woman pleading most earnestly for the prisoner at the bar. I enquired of the gentleman at my right if she were merely a witness, when to my astonishment, lie told me that she was sole lawyer for the criminal. My attention waxed stronger and I watched her every movement which, strange to say, seemed familiar. At last she finished and the jury went out and came back ere long with “ Not guilty.” “Due entirely,” as the judge announced, “to the successful pleading of the criminal’s lawyer, Ema Douglas.” The scene was again changed, and the main street of a flourishing Virginia town came up before me. About half-way down the street was an immense building, covering a square of the city. This was a department store where a wealthy young man was carrying on a large and lucrative business. The young man, in company with a friend, was standing near the main entrance of the building, evidently waiting for some one. He was a handsome young man, of medium height, with black hair and dark brown eyes. Presently a young lady entered and, advancing to meet her, lie pre- sented her to his friend as his better half. When she turned to speak 1 recognized the familiar face of Dee DuPree. 26

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Prophecy. IT was twilight of a winter’s eve. The peculiar silence which is character- istic of that period of the day had fallen like a holy calm upon the city. I sat in my room alone, absorbed in thoughts of the future, when suddenly the room was transformed into a winding country road along which I was walking with the noonday sun beaming full upon me. Catching a glimpse of a shady, cool-looking knoll some distance to the l ight of the road, I turned aside in that direction, hoping to find a suitable place where I could rest a while. As I neared the knoll it grew larger and larger, and on coming upon it I perceived an opening in the side over which was written in large letters, “ Cave of Futurity.” Ferns and beautiful flowers grew in the cavern and the delightful cool- ness of the atmosphere lured me into it. After delightedly looking about me for a time, I caught sight of a couch made from soft green moss, and being very weary, I could not resist the temptation to lay me down and rest. Immediately, as if by magic, I was carried forward into the future, and a liv- ing panorama, familiar and yet unfamiliar, passed before my wondering, raptured sight. The first picture presented was Birmingham parish, which boasted of the best rector in the State. Every one sang the praises of this good man, especially the sick and destitute. Day and night he was seen darting in and out of the homes of the rich and hovels of the poor alike, seeing about his Father’s business. The question was asked why it was that when he was young he was so worldly and now he led such a useful life. The good man answered himself that he owed it all to the influence of his excellent wife who was Mary Beattie, of Greenville, S. C. The parish fades away and the great hospital of Baltimore takes its place. Here I saw a corps of well-trained nurses flitting noiselessly about, smoothing a pillow here, admini-tering a palliative there, and doing the thousand and one little things which go to make up the life of a trained nurse. But I noticed that among these nurses, which all seemed alike to me, there was evidently one who was a general favorite. 'The patients had named her the “ Good Angel of the Hospital,” and I began to study her to see if the name was appropriate. Something about her movements carried me back to my school days, and the form of Scriven Colclough persisted in coming up before me. 25

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The brilliantly lighted ballroom of the hotel in a celebrated summer resort next came up before me. Here a great crowd of people were gathered from every State and peals of laughter betokened mirth and enjoyment. A great many beautiful women were here, but one especially was talked of as the reigning belle of the season. She, with her partner, was to lead the dance, and as they stood waiting for the music to begin admiring glances were cast upon them, for they were indeed a well-matched couple. The next morning the paper announced that Miss Renter Farmer and Mr. Charles Osmond led the dance the night before. The reading-room of one of the public libraries of New York supplanted the ballroom. Around a table a number of people were gathered and a lively discussion was going on as to who wrote some verses which had come out in one of the late magazines and caused quite a sensation. The signature affixed was 22, 6. Some one suggested that they count down the alphabet and find out what letters corresponded to these numbers. This was done and the poet’s initials were found to be V. F. I recognized in a dash that this was no other than our class poet, Vivian Folger. Scarcely had the reading-room faded from view when a school building in one of the rural districts arose. It was recess, and a score or more of small urchins were playing at leap-frog, while from within the school-room came the droning sound of kept-in truants’ voices. After a little the school- mistress came to the door to ring the bell, and a passer-by asked of one little fellow loitering behind who his teacher was. Immediately came the answer, “ Miss Lila Folger, and she’s a good un, too; bur she’s awful strict.” A rapidly growing and well ordered institution for young ladies in West Virginia followed the school building. An election for the Mathematics chair had just been made and the new teacher was Lncile Humphreys. Reports concerning her had preceded her. It was told that she had aston- ished the male students at Vanderbilt by leading her class, and every day when the different classes assembled her intellect was envied by all. “ And still they gazed and still their wonder grew That one small head could carry all she knew.” The college was succeeded by the slums of the city of Anderson, which had been greatly changed. In the windows of the tenement-houses were beautiful flowers imparting their cheery brightness to the inmates and exhal- ing perfume as a sweet incense, blessing all those who came in contact with it. The children of these tenements were neatly dressed, clean-looking, rosy lads and lasses who had a goodly amount of learning in the elementary 27