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

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This to Page: may you succeed, As fast on the road to fame you speed, And your cravings for music constantly feed. Musical Page. Now for Grace this toast is meant, With courage strong and look intent. Her college days have been well spent. Steadfast Grace. Then to Louise—Louise Dye. She ' s the girl who says, I ' ll try. That she ' ll succeed you ' ll not deny. Patient Louise. Next to Geneva, with mischievous look, Who gets some fun from every book. We all know well how her little ways took. Mischievous Geneva. Here’s to Cecile with jokes galore. New jokes, and some you ' ve heard before. Here ' s a joke, and there’re some more. Joking Cecile. Next to Eunice, pure as gold ; Pirave and strong, hut yet not bold. A guiding star in a worldly fold. Pure Eunice. Now to Elizabeth, gentle—why? On the wings of love she’s beginning to fly, Of course she would this truth deny. Gentle Elizabeth. And last to myself. What must I say? My brain’s all muddled. I cannot stay. I ' ve rhymed enough for one short day. Tired Annie. “And now, fair ladies, one and all adieu, Good luck, good husbands, and goodbye to you. Annie V. Sawtell. 24

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Now to Mary, who does her work As rigidly as any Turk. Never a duty does she shirk. Earnest Mary. This to Catharine, witty and gay, Always something bright to say, Laughs and talks the livelong day. Witty Catharine. Here ' s to Annie, who cuts her classes— The merriest of all the Senior lasses— To Annie W. click your glasses. Cutting Annie. This toast for Ruth is meant to go— Little Ruth, who giggles so, But she can ' t help it, you all know. Giggling Ruth. Now to Agnes, modest and shy, I really cannot tell you why, For surely there ' s mischief in each brown eye. Modest Agnes. Then to Mary—Mary G., Always saying, “Why, let me see. She knows it ' s something. What can it be? Cautious Mary. Next Eleanor, with her gift of song, To listen hours is not too long. Now clear and wild—then sweetly strong. Bird-like Eleanor. And now, dear Fannie, a toast to you. With winsome ways and eyes so blue. To follow you in dress we’ll try to do. Dressy Fannie. Here’s to Minnie with wonderful mind. Such wisdom in youth you seldom find. Always ahead, never behind. Clever Minnie. 23

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Class Prophecy, 1906 T WAS A SULTRY NIGHT in May, all was still; not even a breeze stirred. I stole away from the happy, laughing girls to think. Tomorrow would be commencement day, the day we thought would never come ; and now it was here. We had been such a merry band. Oh! yes. We had promised to write. We had planned to meet every commencement; but it could never be the same again. After tomorrow we would no longer be school-girls, but, women; we would go forth to take our places in the world. What would the world have for us? As I thought, the intense heat, combined with the physical depression, overcame me. Unconsciously my head fell forward upon my arm. I know not how long I slept. Suddenly I was aroused by a pecu¬ liar light, and saw before me “Father Time. Thoughtful, as always, he said: “My daughter, what above all things do you most desire to see? At once a long¬ ing possessed me to gaze upon the changes and conditions the next five years would bring into the lives of my classmates of 1906. He then led me to a high mountain, and gave me an instrument through which I could gaze over the earth, and hear what was said. First my vision met, in a ball-room, a charming society woman—just what one would expect of Mable Cauble. Her wit and winning ways had made her the reigning belle of the season. Next my attention was suddenly attracted toward an immense audience under the magic spell of oratory. The clear tones and glowing face of the speaker awak¬ ened memories of days at Chicora, when Grace Sullivan was chief spokesman of our class. I was not surprised to find her a noted lawyer of this new age. So far was she advanced in the science of politics that her aspirations were leading her to a congressional seat on the absorbing question, Should woman make the proposal for marriage?” While looking out on the suburbs of a large Southern city I noticed a beautiful home, in a large grove, quite a distance from the car line. It was strange how my attention was drawn to this particular house, for it was none other than that of Nannie Charles. She had grown tired of maiden life and had married a prominent young doctor. One little figure, very attractive always, caught my glance as she passed up Main street of her native town. I recognized Mary Hart Montgomery. She was staying with her mother to cheer her in her old age; and at the time I saw her she 25