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

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 L T° T McNE; sen,OR CLASS OF THE PRESBVtSn h

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f JJrolngur High up on the Alpine Mountains there grows a flower called the Edelweiss, “noble white.” These flowers are so prized that tourists are willing to go through untold trials in their ambition to climb high enough to gather them. As the tourists, we have tried to gather a perfect specimen of our flower, though we too have climbed through trials. If through rough gathering, therefore, its petals have been bruised, we pray you, be not critical of this, our Edelweiss. M. T. M. 5

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Julitt OUjarles UrNrill Was born of Scotch parents in Richmond county, North Carolina, July 27th, 1874, and died at or near his birthplace September 16th, 1907, when scarce past'his thirty-third year. With a college educa- tion based upon that acquired in the neighborhood schools, he became tutor, professor, lawyer, legislator, poet, scholar; but born in the country he died a countryman, a child of nature. No enjoyments were so great to him as those afforded by the woods, the streams, the fields; no music so sweet as that of elemental nature, which sang ever in his brain, and no day so happy as that when he threw down his pencil, pushed his work aside, and started on a visit “down home,” where the perch bite and the pines sigh. Tall, slender, lithe of figure, his face was that of the poet, his eyes dreamy or flashing, or laughing or melting with tenderness. He was the sweetest spirit I knew. He was the only man 1 ever knew as he was to me, of whom it can be said in truth that I never heard him speak an unkind word of any person, living or dead. He was the incarnation of good humor. There was never such uniformity of temper never merry beyond the point of dignity, nor angry, nor morose. The simplest things interested him as they do a child; the beautiful, the good, fascinated him; the great led his intellect captive. He was as modest as he was sweet-spirited. He never knew his powers; nor knew, nor could have been per- suaded, that he was the sweetest singer the State has had; yet Burns never sang with more exactness the song of the soil, nor any one portrayed so truly the characteristics nor spoke so faithfully the dialect of that peculiar people who give the South its master problem. He died before his time, and his dying hurt many hearts, for he commanded the affection of all who came within the sphere of his influence. He was the sweetest spirit I ever knew. J. P. Caldwell.