Cumberland University - Phoenix Yearbook (Lebanon, TN)

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Class JTi ' jtory. HT sometime in life every man has a dream of ambition ; it may be clothed in the sloth of habit, or hidden under the preiense of humility, but you may be sure of its coining- sooner or later. The adventurous Goddess called Ambition, whose dower is Fame, will to some extent toy with every youthful heart. As Time in his flight carries me back to review the four years just elapsed, my attention is attracted to four ambitious, self-con fident young Freshmen; I say four, because they are the only survivors of the perilous, and too frequently fatal ex- aminations that college students have to encounter. Three of these pioneers are sons of the dear old volunteer State of Tennessee; the other is from the sister State of Kentucky; two of the three Tennesseans are natives of the classic town of Lebanon, the other is from among- the pious inhabitants in the town of Duplex; one of the two Lebanonites is the youngest son of a sweet-spirited Theological Professor, now deceased; the other is a nephew of an eminent Professsor in the Law School. Kirkpatrick and Williamson have begun to get a glimpse of the profession of law, of which they hope to become masters, while Padgett and Graves have their minds fixed upon the sacred ministry. No one perhaps has higher hopes of a student when he first enters college than he himself, and these four were not an exception to the rule. We entered, indeed with a double portion of self-assurance and a look as wise as a sage, but alas, how soon was our pride humbled when confronted and overcome by the monstrous Deupie ' s Algebra. Besides this Greek and Latin roots began to entangle our weary feet until it seemed that we must, like others, forsake the uneven path.and give up the race. At length patience wins, and just as truth crushed to earth will rise again so this unfortunate qua- ternion rises to renew strength from time to time and after ten months sweating and fretting hears the hallowed words Enter ihou into the Sophomore Class. Here our number is increased by four. I see them now, as they enter our class, Horton, from Athens Ala., a city whose very name bespeaks a classic inspiration, and Pinkerton a graduate from the unrivaled Wall and Mooney Training School. 11 We look with astonishment upon this classic spirit, as he reads Horace and Medea with such ease and fluency- It needs no prophet to see that these two gentlemen have the goal of their ambition fixed in the professorship of some Greek and Latin school. Not to omit the other two I must mention Waterhouse and Dickey. The former a graduate of the Chattanooga High School and a citizen of that city of scenery. His calling is to be a teacher of science and his fertile mind directs its force in a special manner upon that branch. His faithful service has also awarded him military honor. — 27 —

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SENIOR LITERARY CLASS. — 26 —

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This year closes with eight students looking- forward for advancement. Some have record for faithful service; others for lack of faithful service. Here we are upon the threshold of the Junior Year. We shudder at the thoug-ht Junior for as many who have gone before, tell us of the much dreaded Professor Buck and his calculus, and assure us a reception as cold as the climate of Siberia; they tell us that this is the Slough of Despond over which few can ever hope to pass. Having put hand to plow, however we venture to stem the tide. But we are not the only ones to try the realities of the dreaded work ; four new members have joined the ranks. Dickey hails from West Tennessee. His serious manner and studious habits, despite his extreme youth soon tell that he means to succeed not only as a student in college, but also in his chosen profession as a lawyer. I pause with a spirit of reverence, as I mention the first one by name David Owen, or better known as the Immortal David, because he is said to have nine lives. His placid face first saw the light of day in the mountains of East Ten- nessee; as a student his record is above reproach, and his daily actions are far from proving him recreant to his sacred call- ing as a minister. The second of this number, who is also a potential preacher is Molloy, or more familiarly called Molly. His characteristicis never. He never gets despondent — never makes a failure in calculus, never fails to smile at the Col- lege girls — and never fails to greet the passerby with Good morning to you ! and in parting extend the invitation to Come to see me sometime. His home is in Spring Hill, Tenn. His year ' s grade in mathematics is perfect. This leaves to be mentioned two more Juniors, viz: Sullivan of Leeville, Tenn., commonly called John L., and Walker from Plevna, Ala. The former denotes strength the latter motion ; the two elements that will characterize their work as successful educators. Junior year closes and twelve candidates stand ready to make the final charge. Thompson and Holder must be added to this number, which completes the list. Thompson from the University of Texas is looking to the ministry; Holder, a graduate of Bethel College, has chosen to be a lawyer. The diligence of these gentlemen will always welcome them to a place of honor and esteem. We are now in full view of the end which four years ago was barely visible through the clouded future. The eventful epoch so soon to occur in our lives agitates us more and more as it approaches. We wonder what the future has in store for us ; sometimes our thoughts call to mind a fair one and it seems so natural to associate her with the future, her con- versation delights us by its piquancy and grace more than ever. But see, we are there. The dream of this closing year is quite realized, we have been looking eagerly for its coming, but now that it is at hand we are half unwilling to welcome it. We have met and received the degrees for which we are unspeakably proud; and now as the last night is waning, we wander for a last look at the old school walls tnat have made for us so long a home. Old broken expectancy, days of glee, triumphs, rivalries, defeats and friendships, are recalled with a fluttering of the heart, that pride cannot wholly subdue. We stand on the stone step on the evening of the last day and think of the dim life which opens wide and long, from the morrow. From the train with one more yearning look we gaze at the old school building, one house after another vanishes out of sight, and then like a broken hope the old building has faded from our view.