Hathaway Brown School - Specularia Yearbook (Cleveland, OH)

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II. Gbe open Jfielos. Mr. Mabie proves himself well 'able to hold, as 't were, the mirror up to nature, to paint its varying hues and aspects. His description of the Hplaygroundl' in this essay is spontaneous,-it seems no effort for him to describe it vividly, -minutely, graph- ically. The essay is not long, on the contrary, when it is inished one feels rather disap- pointed because it is no longer. Yet it is complete, one feels sure that the author has said all he meant to say, and that well. Very often similes and ,metaphors in pro- fusion do not enhance the beauty of a de- scription. Here one has no such feeling. The author's likening of the great sum- mer clouds to vessels is very real and true to nature. How often has one had just such an idea of them as they sail through the air, but how few could put it into words as pleasing and as graphic as Mr. Mabie's! Whether he looks up- to the heavens or down to the earth, or turns to the prospects around, he certainly Ends something beautiful and remarkable in everything. ' MINERVA C. KLINE, '9o. 3' III. 1In tbe iforest of Broan. A sojourn in the Forest of Arden with Rosalind is a delightful and profitable dream. To bring us nearer to nature, to point out the universal harmony of all things, and to show the essentials for gain- ing admittance to this fancifulrealm are the aims of Mr. Mabie in his beautiful essay. The contemplation of nature for awhile, far removed from the series of interrup- tions which constitute the life 'of the world, and away from all hurry and care of common life, is sweet indeed and refreshing. Delightful it is to learn lessons, not from books which are mere translations, but from the great original of all books-from Nature herself, and make ' This our life, exempt from public haunt, Find tongues in trees, and books in run- ning brooks, Sermons in stones, and good in every- thing In the Forest, too, we learn the sacred.- ness of true friendship, and locked in the wood, speech is not necessary-wefeel, and that is sufficient. - And what if it was a dream, and what if the Forest of Arden, with all its unspoiled beauty, exists only in the mind, and is only a passing fancy! Should we not wake to reality, carrying the lessons of harmony, love, and inspiration into our daily lives, and shaping for ourselves a veritable Arden round about us? Oh, if we all, with Rosa- lind, could enter the Forest of Arden! FLORENCE W. SHEHAN, '99. 3' T IV. 'Glnoer the Elpple JBougbs. . ' Mr.-,Mabie's delightful book of essays, Under the Trees and Elsewhere, has just been brought to my notice, and my only re- gret in reading it is that I had not known the charm of its pages before. The essay, Under the Apple Boughs, seems to me singularly fresh and dainty, even as the blossoms themselves. One of Mr. Mabie's. most pleasing characteristics is his ability to make you see and feel as he does. You immediately become conscious of the, mys- tery of Nature and you watch with himas the plot unfolds. The workings of nature are shown by him in a newer and fresher way. Then, too, the daintiness of his style touches you and you feel a pleasant thrill, when in describing Nature as she busily works with her storms and sunshine, he speaks of a falling out between the conspiratorsu and sets himself to watch for some disclosure which might escape 'E i f i. S 2 2. E. if f. 1' S a s 3 l I i 'I- t in it l Q in 'il ' r ,, 1 ,th s , .Fr .3 F. ws I r at ..,i Jil . , fig . gl .W -,3!' .Lflf 'Jug '15 I i 'i ,.i il .5

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iii' 5?55'5'E5Qi'Z5 go?-' s Emi ter ef in t , , 1, - M. i M, .ra ,.,,,,,,. ir. ' fn . 1. z.. . . 3.31 1. 'if, pression on me,-the maids in their flowing white robes, their dark hair caught up by golden fillets and uncovered by the usual veil, each occupied with her loom, and all seated about Andromache, who superintend- ed their work. I thought that no scene, could be more restful, but still it was far from a happy one, because their mistress was so sad and silent. Wthile they sat thus, I heard a great clam- or inthe courts outside. The maids dropped their work in astonishment. Their mistress went on with her spinning, too occupied by the sorrowful remembrances which her work brought up to notice or care about what was happening in the world around her. Some of the women arose as if to go and ascertain the cause of such an uproar, but after gazing at 'Andromache's silent figure, they resumed their work. Finally, a servant ran into their midst, breathless with excitement, and spoke in low tones to a maidjand she, almost stupe- fied, told her mistress-that she must come to the court below. Andromache, impatient at thus being aroused, left her work, and signing to some of her maids to follow, slowly left the room. I was impressed then by her graceful dignity of carriage as she quietly passed from us. I do not remember how I arrived in the court yard or by whose guidance, but the next that I knew I was there. Here I found Andromache bending over a body which lay on a car in the centre of the court. I learned that the body was that of Neoptole- mus, who hadbeen killed by Orestes. Such an impressive scene it was! The I dead warrior in the center, clad in all his armour, stretched on the car whichrhad so lately borne him triumphantly to battle, pale, sad Andromache bending over him, but uttering no words of complaint or of grief g the maids and servants weeping and wailing around her. . i ' I awoke 3 but I could still see it all, and almost hear them wailing. MINERVA KLINE, '99, 'fam Qlriticiams of jfour Essaga. I. GD6 'dlnoiscovereo IISIHTID. 'The book, Under the Trees, by Ham- ilton W. Mabie, is most delightful reading. The language is simple, the diction pure, and the reader is carried on andon by the flow of beautiful and instructive thoughts. In f' The Undiscovered Islandf' where we retire from the world and find Nature in her loveliest moods, we meet the immortal Shakspere's Miranda and Ferdinand again face to face. Rosalind meets them, the poet meets them, and we, being of the same little party, meet them, too, decked in fresh, new fancies. We' know we have met dear old friends once more, and we cannot close the book without carrying away the beautiful word picture painted in such deli- cate, yet vigorous, coloring. Truly, as the poet says, imagination is a potent factor in everyone's life. It isneces- sary if we want to live broad, helpful lives 5 and by imagination we can catch glimpses of the other side of peoples characters, better understand their motives, and make allowances for what seem to our eyes fail- ings, thereby saving many a heartache by cruel, unjust criticism. The world would surely be much better and happier if we followed out the suggestion of Rosalind, the old Bible saying, Judge not, that ye be not judged. , LILLIAN FENNER, '99. . 9

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from one side or the other in the frankness of anger. And as we follow the storm with its thunder and lightning, the clouds piling themselves against the horizon in such a manner that we catch glimmerings of their silver linings, we feel that the essay is a beautiful little thing. At last beams of that broad smile which spreads itself over the whole earth pierce our hearts and we are glad.. When the apple blossoms come with all their sweetness and purity, we feel their presence through the rest of the essay, and the foam of blossoms bury- ing the world in a billowy sea is constant- ly before us. The beautiful way in which the author holds communion with the blos- soms is very attractive, and involuntarily a wish comes from our hearts that all who look upon the apple tree when its boughs are covered with snowy beauty, might take away as noble and high thoughts as Mr. Mabie. Surely the world would then be better in every way. , GRACE G. GILMAN, ,QQ Reprinied from THE INDEX gf December f, 1898. fkffl I Zine tops' 113311. p s i It was New Year's Eve, the night of the annual toy-ball at McGillan's large toy store. As soon as the clerks closed .up for the night, the decorating committee began' its work. The tiny doll musicians were placed on one corner of the large glass show case, and around them were tastefully arranged some small Christmas trees, and a baby palm or two. They could not decorate very much, for atthe stroke of twelve every- thing must be in its place, because Tom the watchman came at that time, and they were afraid of being caught. The guests began coming early, all dressed gaily for the occasion. The rag doll came with her rag doll brother. The French dolls with their clzic dresses looked very attractive and pretty. The slang doll fthe newest inventionb was the belle of the ball, she was kept wound up all the evening, and talked slang to her heart's content. Well, isn't this fun? said the Peck twins, or the half bushel, as the little tin soldier jokingly called them. The music struck up My Rag Time Baby, and I thought the rag dolls would go insane They simply tore, something I hate to see, it is so unbecoming, and also so injurious to one's constitution. The colored 'dolls walked a cake walk, to the amusement of all the rest. Do look at the little tin soldier and that French doll! said one of the gaily dressed paper dolls. Such flirtations I never did see. I do believe he is holding her hand! Oh, how shocking, answered one of her more substantial friends, a large knitted doll with black beads for eyes. Oh, this is too sudden, sang out the slang doll. You are not-- She could not finish. She had run down. Suddenly the big clock struck,-one-two -three-and before the twelfth stroke, everything was in its place. The door opened and in walked the watchman. Si- lence reigned. I Crash! 4 For the love-- 'I' Oh! whispered one of the twins, the slang doll has fallen. Tom was- quite startled, but he picked her up and set her in a chair, and walked . through to the back door. I-Ia! ha!', laughed the little tin soldier. But no one answered. They were all asleep. NADINE J. SIMMONS, ,9Q. I I