Davidson College - Quips and Cranks Yearbook (Davidson, NC)

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In church and State, In all that ' s great, We see them, each one working; No one can mar, So fair a star, By the waj ' s of evil lurking. A SEA VOYAGE. On Saturday, July 2nd, 1898, the Steamship Lucania, ' bound for Europe, left Xew York at two o ' clock. She is the largest of the Cunard Line and in fact one of the lar- gest ships afloat, being 625 feet long and carrying 8,000 tons. In crossing the ocean speed is secondary to safety and comfort; and this is especially true of all the ships of the Cunard Line. This line has been in operation for forty years and has never lost a passenger. And this is something that no other line can boast of. The Lucania is a floating palace. The great size of the ship adds to the comfort of the passage. She is more steady, she does not pitch and roll in the least swell, like the lighter boats that we saw tossing around us, while she was moving majestically through the waves. The saloon, instead of being at the stern, according to the old style, is placed more amidship, and covers the whole width of the ship, w hich gives light on both sides. There are four bath- rooms, with marble baths, supplied with salt water, so that one may have the luxury of sea-bathing without going to Manhattan or Coney Island. In crossing the Gulf Stream the water is warm enough; but if elsewhere it is too chilly the turn of a cock lets steam into the bath, which quickly raises it to any degree of temperature. The ventilation is excellent, so that even when the port-holes are shut on account of the high sea, the air never becomes impure. The state-rooms are furnished with electric bells, a touch of which brings a steward in an instant. Thus provided for

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Juniors now, the roll is called and twenty-eight respond. A little older, a great deal wiser, and dignity multiplied. Fewer in number but more resolute we cannot allow our banner to trail in the dust. In foot-ball we played for the class championship and won the cup. Our reputation was not lowered when another cup was added on Athletic Day. Junior speaking — that quaking nightmare of a thousand dreams came, passed, and is almost forgotten. It is strange how like a dream some terrors become when they have passed away. Another Commencement, a darkened page, we mourn, and, — home once more. No more we dream for life is a fact and we «r living. We muster twenty-three. Our number is no longer so large and we think of those who have left us. Those two of the gentler nature. Those two who, though they can- not be of us, are nevertheless always with us in sympathy, whose interest in us is more than we deserve. Some of our boys have gone to other colleges, some have faced the duties of actual life, — and two have married. To all we wish success. More resolute than ever we take the duties of college life. Ours has not been an epoch-making class. Its life has been peaceful with no besetting storms. Noth- ing has been done, but in all that we find to do, we try to do our best. Across the field of view there flashes a glimpse of the future. In many homes, under sundry climes, we see the toilers working. A face whose lines are familiar meets us. It bears the stamp of our own grand motto — Vincet Qui Patitur. We hasten to clasp a class- mate ' s hand, and in that hearty grasp is renewed all that is good and grand in college life — the friendship of man with man. We love to linger over such a theme ; but the history of ' 99 is yet to be written, for surely such men were not born to die and be forgotten. 21

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one may escape, as far as possible, the discomforts of the sea, and enjoy in some degree even the luxuries of civiliza- tion. Captain Kennedy is an admirable seaman with a quick eye for everything, always on deck or on the bridge watch- ing with unsleeping vigilance over the safety of all on board. The order and discipline of the ship is perfect. There is no noise or confusion. All moves on quietly. Not a sound is heard, save the occasional cry of the men working on the forward deck, and the steady throb, day and night, of the engine, which keeps this huge mass moving on her ocean track. But what a vast machine is such a ship, and how com- plicated the construction which makes possible such a triumph over the sea I Come upon the upper deck, and look down through this iron grating. You can see to a depth of fifty or sixty feet. It is like looking down into a mining shaft. And what makes it the more fearful, is that the bottom of the ship is a mass of fire. Thirty-six furnaces are in full blast to keep up steam, and at night, as the red-hot coals that are raked out of the furnaces like melted lava, flash in the faces of the brawny and swelter- ing firemen, one might fancy himself looking into some Vulcan ' s cave, or subterranean region, glowing with infer- nal heat. As we were near the banks of Newfoundland, a dense fog hung over the sea, through which the ship went, making fifteen miles an hour, its fog horns screaming nearly all day. About four o ' clock the fog lifted and the sun came out in all its splendor; and the next night, as we sat on deck, the full moon rose out of the waves. Instantly the hum of voices ceased; conversation was hushed; and all grew silent before the sublime beauty of the scene. Such an hour suggests not only poetical but spiritual thoughts — thoughts of the dead as well as thoughts of God. It recalled a passage in David Copperfield, where little David, after the death of his