Junior Chronicles; As I think uw ' x tlic past of this illustrious Class, I fetil as if I could write vol- umes. Upon reflection, however, I see that it would be history — ancient, mediseval and modern, to compass this entire subject and that would be beyond my powers. I have a vision, too, of my carefully prepared manuscript being returned in such a revised condition that I might ask, Whatever can this be? That experience, too, would be disheartening. Hoping this attempt may escape such treatment and that formidable waste basket in the President ' s study, where student efforts are, alas! often consigned to oblivion, I begin with confidence. On Septeml er 7, 1908, several trembling, homesick girls mounted the steps of the C. B. F. Institute. We were met by Mrs. Scarborough, who was so kind and motherly that we seemed for awhile to forget our troubles. As we stood about gazing disconsolately on former students, we heard on all sides remarks concern- ing our need of salt and our resemblance to a campus in spring, but we knew that all such remarks were only for effect, for not a thing of green was about us. However, we soon went through the usual Freshman trials of homesickness, examinations, and condescending treatment from Sophomores. To relieve our hearts we wejjt copiously once a week. I regret to say we didn ' t bottle up our tears for exhibition to future Freshmen. And strange to say, we occasionally saw a mighty Soph weeping when she didn ' t think Freshmen were near. When we met the following September in the halls, although we were con- sidered to be Sophomores, we felt almost as if we were Freshmen over again, for there had been many changes during the summer. First of all, there was a new President of the school, and several additional members of the Faculty, and changes in the interior of the buildings, an increase in the library books, new pianos, etc. The charter of the school, it was learned, would be changed, and the Institute would grow into a College. As loyal Sophs we rejoiced in all these improvements. In the fall of 1910 only two Juniors from our small Class returned, Maggie West and Elizabeth Morris. We were greatly disai pointed at this small number. Cupid and other equally formidable foes had stolen away some of our members. Fortunately, our Class was soon increased to five by the coming of Grace Strahl and Claude Stephenson, who were admitted to the Jimior Class from other schools. Afterwards, Georgie Bartley, deciding to graduate in music rather than to finish her literary work with the Class of 1911, joined our choice liand. School life would have been monotonous but we were interrupted by chills and hots, to use the Alaska phrase. We took quinine until we were afraid to look into the glass for fear we had turned into a cajisule. But the worst of things
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