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

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Prophecy I T was twilight ot ' 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 right 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 Colclougli persisted in coming up before me. 25

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History of 1902 IIE years revolve, the months fly on their course, and once again the historian sits down toiler task of acquainting the “gentle reader” with the successes and failures, the peculiarities and eccentricities, of “naughty two’s, who, if the fates and the instructors be not averse, will as graduates, soon make their bow to the world. Well, we must confidentially confess, were it not for long hours of Poring over Trigonometry, Physics, and Astronomy, and for the ease with which we bear ourselves in society’s realm, we might in a moment of drowsiness, fancy ourselves once more passing the days of Freshmanhood. Our ambitions, our aspirations, are the highest, the best; our motto, “ Excelsior! ” Even in our infancy (as college girls) we “ hitched our wagon to a star. ’ Many of us have been marching steadily onward for two long years, some of us even four. The iyay has been long, the struggle hard, and we are justly proud of the many successes that have brightened our course. Our instructors will bear us witness that our attainments in the class¬ room have been of no mean order. In this connection, only one point can we mention, and that is the fine spirit with which the Senior Latin Class has cleared up and embedded in memory the facts contained in the outline of Latin Syntax. We’ve had our fun. We’ve broken most every law of the Decalogue; so we feel we can honestly take our dips with clear consciences and all the inward satisfaction of something attempted, nothing done. Not that there’s “ nothing doing,” but that the doctrine of least work has been universally adopted. The diversions ot 02 are numerous, refreshing, and invigorating. All possess a tendency for the trodden paths of transgression. Some delight in paying penalties by memorizing a portion of “Dictionary”; others have stained their record with an occasional “mark.” Limited numbers remain in their rooms on Monday afternoons, endeavoring to escape the ways of error. However, the memories ot the many pleasant days spent in and around dear old Chicora will not soon he forgotten by those who compose this noble Class of Nineteen Hundred and Two. And now we shall soon bid farewell to the days spent amid the all- powerful but quiet influence of the charm that pervades that little spot of earth called Chicora. May our own lives reflect the high principles which our associations here have instilled into our minds, and may the great, busy world have cause to congratulate itself that here we were prepared for life ' s struggle. The Historian. 24

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The hospital was supplanted by the little village ot ' B-, at the loot of the Adirondack . Quite a commotion was being made among the inhabitants til the village by the arrival ot 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 t imple-minded people that they demanded an explanation as to what led her to be 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 dry 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 ot 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, he told me that she was sole lawyer for the criminal. My attention waxed stronger and 1 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. lie was a handsome young man, of medium height, with black hair and dark brown eyes. Presently a young lady entered and, advancing to meet ber, he pre¬ sented her to his friend as his better half. When she turned to speak 1 recognized the familiar face of Dee DuPree. 26