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

Page 16 text:

Rosa Willis New Bern, N. C. Nanette Sherard Abbeville, S. C. Mary Mickley Charlotte, N. C. Alene Ward Tryon, N. C. Katherine Stewart Clinton, N. C. Marilyn Brittain Charlotte, N. C. Lucy Williams Charlotte, N. C. Melba Treadway Charlotte, N. C. Johnny Walker Charlotte, N. C. Irene Johnson Charlotte, N. C. Peggy Sabine Charlotte, N. C. Nell Sadler Charlotte, N. C. Sara Sprott Greenwood, S. C. Jennie Ann Efird Charlotte, N. C. Beatrice Kiser Charlotte, N. C. “FRESHMAN DAYS” M AY we be personal ? Notice Helen Hatcher, and you remember individuality—even in one out of 150. And Helen Cumnock is as well drawn a type as we’ve seen. Her tailored suits, her hair, brushed back and then bouncing up again, her healthy appearance, all form the perfect picture of an out-door girl. Have you stopped counting the Charlotte students? There are bunches of them. Eleanor Burris, Sara Keiger, Adele Southerland, Martha Alexander, in one. Jennie Ann Efird, Marilyn Brittain, Mary Mickley, Johnny Walker running around together. And Elizabeth Gammon, Charlotte McAden, Courtney Jones, and so many more attractive ones. Peggy Sabine is an addition to Char- lotte and Queens—she recently moved here from New York, and she’s gifted dramatically. Ginger Snapp, is an- other new resident of Charlotte, and that’s what she likes to be called, with no giggling, please. The names of our freshmen are so unusual—Carmalt sounds delicious. And Tempe is the very name for that alert individual. Cree is a clever nick-name, and Mayme is spelt cleverly. Le Grande is the tops in family names. Rosa Willis has music in her name. And Nanette Sherard seems to turn somersaults on your tongue. Ginger Snapp merits mention again, in con- nection with this subject. And never shall we forget our first glimpse of the freshmen—Katherine Stewart, as radiant and happy as a senior; Rose Shanklin, here early and helping others to find their rooms; Sarah Sprott, with the family reunion in her room; Margaret Hunsucker having her picture taken. Freshman, there’s no one quite like you. [12]

Page 15 text:

“Tip to Movie Scouts-Look over Our Freshman Class99 I F anyone, anywhere, wants talent of any kind, for any- thing, anytime, call on the freshmen everytime. These rats” may be termed exhibit A in the line of Queens- Chicora entertainment. The first surprise came during Rat Week when variety was shown in Talent Time”. The second eye-opener astounded us in the form of willingness of the freshmen to perform at the Party and at Dinner on Wednesdays. And the third triumphant play was made by the class when the two leads for their Stunt were called away at very nearly the last minute, and the show went on! The parts were immediately cast and the Stunt was a clever, original success, under the leadership of Jane Davis. So the freshmen are dauntless; they are gems of activity, and they have fitted perfectly into the atmosphere of our college. Each girl seems to realize the importance of new enthusiasm, individual spirit, and loyal devotion to Queens- Chicora. Frances Garrett Charlotte, N. C. Josephine Rankin China Grove, N. C. Blanche Lethco Spartanburg, S. C. Faye Queen Little Switzerland, N. C. Dorothy Wilkie Virginia Lea Cathey Forest City, N. C. Paw Creek, N. C. Louise Kinser Dante, Virginia Frances O'Hair Rock Hill, S. C. Betty Kale Belmont, N. C. Sally McDowell Pacolet, S. C. Marjorie Timms Winnsboro, S. C. Catherine Todd Gastonia, N. C. Sue Mauldin Charlotte, N. C. Margaret Sadler Paw Creek, N. C. Doris Gambrell Charlotte, N. C. tn]

Page 17 text:

” HY hidy, Elvira, I ain’t seed you, since Mrs. Jones' fun’el. You looks mighty well.” ’Hidy, Mamie, how yawl?” Aw, we’s all right. You know'd Sam gon' be babtised Sunday, didn't yuh ? I come town today to git him a suit.” Hesh, Viry, your Sam? How come day boy gon’ be babtised? He ain’t got no ’ligion.” Haw he have too, he been amoan- in' now goin' on two week—come thru last Saddy night on de way home from church. Me’n Ethel, we’s walk- in’ long pretty good ways in front'n him and s'mo dem young boys, Mose and ’mong ’em, and we hearn some- body holler out, Thank you Lawd, thank you Sir,” and I knowd hit us my Sam. I shore was proud. Gal, I jes’ fell down in de road and rolled.” Yas, Sis Mamie, I knows you war a proud soul. My Mag, she been moanin’ aroun’ fer nigh bout a week, but she ain’ had no luck as yit. I don’ tol her ef she come thru by Sadday mawnin’ time fuh me to go to town wid de boss, I’d git her one dem georged crapeys fur de babtizin’, and you know she's plum crazy fur a red un. I ain’ seed no peace day or night since den, ain’t been able to git a lick o’ work out’n her.” Gal, did you heer the elder rompin' on Sis Haney fer squenchin’ her eyes at dat black Jeems in meetin’ las’ nite?” Yas, and did you see dat big yel- low Rosetta Stone aswitchin’ up de aisle to put dat nickle on the table when dey wuz liftin’ de ’lection? Tryin’ to show off dat red satin dress, and everybody knowd she bought it second-hand from Miss Annie.” Uh huh, if she don’t ketch dat Pluribus Unum wid dat dress dere jus’ ain’t no ketchin’ him, him lookin’ like a ape, and Sally jus’ been dead a mont’, Sadday.” Viry, wuz you down de road dere when Carry Nation Hogens and Na- poleum come ’long? You wusn't. Haw! Lawd, gal, you sho missed it. Sis Milly took ’n’ had a fit an’ she hauled off an’ bit Carry Nation thru de year; she a blue-gummed nigger. Uh wall, wuz’t de same year dat Aunt Martha tore de year ring outer when she got shoutin’ t'other nite?” I ’on’ know 'bout dat, but you know Izeah’s de only one can hold Carry' Nation when de Spirit strike her, now. Talkin’ ’bout shoutin’, gal, you know dat nail Brother Stark drive in de wall fo’ elder Bowens to hang his overcoat on? Wall, of Hesakiah got shoutin' an' jump so high twell he hang dat new pair striped britches on dat nail, an’ I means he hung dere twell some de deakums unhooked ’im.” Now chile! I boun’ he don’t do no moah dat gymnastickin’ aroun’. Think he smart.” Uh hum, wuz you at de Basket rally at Ebeneza fust Sunday? Alder Lewis up der thinkin’ he lookin’ so forty tight an’ all a time lookin’ like a squench owl, talkin' bout churchin’ dis yere young race 'bout dere sneakin’ at de barbecue, an’ his han' still wrop up fum whar he bin gougin’ dat cawn out de crack in Mr. Jackson’s cawn crib, whar Mr. Jackson sot de steal trap dat kotch him.” Look ’ere, gal, de cap’n tol' me meet 'im at foah 'clock, an' ef I ain’t dere he’ll shore ride off an’ leab me lak he dun Ebaline, an' I’ll haf t’ foot it home, an’ git supper arter I git dere. Wal, stay 'ere twil I come, Viry, an’ don’ fergit 'bout poundin’ de paster, babtizin’ Sunday. Gon’ look fer you.” [13]