Hathaway Brown School - Specularia Yearbook (Cleveland, OH)

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his villa Strawberry Hill. From that time on he was busily employed making over his villakin H into a Gothic residence which in later years developed into a verit- able treasure-house. Many rare and valu- able things were collected here, such as a tortoise-shell comb, studded with silver hearts and roses, which was said to have belonged to Mary, Queen of Scots, the red hat of Cardinal Wolsey, a clock given by Henry VIII. to Anne Boleyn, and count- less articles of similar value. Among many valuable and rare editions of books were the identical Iliad and Odyssey from which Pope made his translations of Homer. He set up a printing press at Strawberry Hill, its first products were Gray's Odes and The Progress of Poesy. From this press issued many volumes, a number of them from the pen of Walpole. But Wal- pole was not a success as a writer. His f' Castle of Otranto 'I is a weird story, very little read now. Gray wrote to him of it : It engages our attentions here fat Cam- bridgel, makes some of us cry a little and all in general afraid to go to bed o' nights. As for Walpole himself, we have hinted before that he was aristocratic and had a very good opinion of Mr. Vfalpole. His closest friends were women, but for the friends of his own class, Sir Horace Mann, George Montagu and Conway, he seems to have had a genuine affection. It is curious and interesting that he never wore a hat and was a great drinker of iced' water. Miss Hawkins in describing him says: His dress in visiting was most usually, in sum- mer when I most saw him, a lavender suit, the waistcoat embroidered with a little silver, ora suit of white silk, partridge silk stockings and gold buckles, rutffles and frill, generally lace. ,, ., ,, In his later years he was greatly enfeebled by the gout, which made ,him walk, warily. In a letter to Lady Ossory he says: Walk- ing is not one of my excellencesg in A my best days Mr. Winnington said I tripped like a peewit, and if I do not flatter myself, my march at present is more like a dab chick'sf' Thus we see the elegant Mr. Walpole. By his letters, which were edited and ready for the press at his death, we are best able to know and judge the man. As a letter-writer he was a success, and an inveterate writer he was. GRACE G. GILMAN, -,QQ CA!-1 ' El EiI6lTll11H. Percival DeWitt walked briskly down the street and turned in at the gate of a beautiful old house, standing far back from the road with a long green' sweep of lawn stretching to the street. He was on his way to a dinner party to be given by Miss Wil- lard in honor of her guests, Misses Maud and Helen Tracy, whom he had heard a great deal about from various friends, and whom he was quite anxious to meet. As a rule, young ladies never particularly in- terested himg he thought them afoolish, simpering set of dolls, though of course there were exceptions to this rule, and Grace Willard was one. As he entered rhe drawing room and glanced around he saw only one stranger, a tall, dark, slender girl, very beautiful and very graceful. Miss Willard at once came forward and introduced him to her friend Helen Tracy, who explained that, as her mother had been suddenly taken ill, her sister had been obliged to return home that morning, but would probably be back again in a few days, if her mother improved. Percival was for once entirely captiva- ted. Miss Tracy was charming, as uncon- scious of her beauty as achild, and over- flowing with life and spirits.. He hardly left her side all the evening, and departed

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outside the window that opened UPOU the porch. I closed the book with a btlflgv T056 and Dol-:ed the fire, drew my Chalf nearer to my friend, and tried to start a conversa- tion, but in vain, for again I Ileafd the 10W wail, this time nearer and more distinct. I could endure it no longer. I jL1I11Ped to my feet, resolving not to be a coward, whatever :night befall me. I quietly walked over to the window, jerked open the old fashioned shutters, and. bracing myself, lOOk6Cl out. I saw nothing but the starless heavens, the swaying branches of tl1e elms, and the faint glimmer of the moon. For a 1nO111CD'i I forgot myself in watching the weird beauty of the scene. But suddenly I was quivering with excitement, for a long, dark object lay at my feet on the other side of the window pane. I know not why, but I could not look down at it, much as I longed to. A11 of the horrible, ghostly tales which I had lately been reading flashed through H157 mind. While I stood staring out into the darkness, visions of some poor person over- Come by the cold, who had fallen on my doorstep, came before me. Summoning all my courage, I wrapped myself in an Indian blanket, opened the door, and, feeling the cold rush of air in my face, stepped out. I steadied myself for a moment, then knelt and felt of the ghastly object. Something warm and soft touched my hand. I shud- dered! It moved. A cover fell back, and there-there was only our big Newfound- land,iRomp, wrapped up in the door mat! SUE I-IARMAN, 1903. CAA1 . lborace Zltllalpole. . The eighteenth century in England will always he au interesting period for students of literature. It is the age of johnson, Coldsurth, Richardson, Fielding, and many other Ruuous literati g but Horace Walpole, the well known literary gossip and great gentleman of the land,-greatest, according to his own opinion, considered them entire- ly beneath his royal notice. Walpole was horn in London September 23, 1717. the fourth sou of that famous Sir Robert Walpole. whose admirable pru- dence. litlelity, and success did so much for lil!!-Zlltll P1'0SPCl'il5'. His mother was Catherine Shorter. who claimed Dryden for her great uncle. Of his childhood very little is known: we hear that his godmother was his beautiful aunt, Dorothy Vtlalpole, and that he was inoculated for smallpox in 1724. Probably the most interesting event of. his early life was his visit to the king X? hen he was' about ten he tells us, in Chapter I. of his Reminiscensesf' that he had a great desire to inspect His Majesty in consequently his mother obtained permission for him to kiss King George's hand, although it was a most unusual request even for a Prime Minister's wife. He was educated at Eton and King's College. It was at Eton that he-formed the friendship for Thomas Gray, with whom later he traveled on the Continent until a separation was necessitated by some mis- understanding, causing estrangement until years later. Then Walpole was generous enough to own that he had been entirely in the wrong. Through his fatheris influ- ence he obtained a number of valuable sinecures, which made' him independently rich throughout his life. ' But we can not think long of Walpole without thinking, too, of Strawberry Hill at Twickenham. In 1748 Walpole puf- chased the villa, paying f,'I,356, los. for it. He tells us that in looking over some Old deeds he found that the ground on which it stood had been originally called Straw- berry Hill-Shot. Consequently he named 22

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head over heels in love, though he would never have confessed it. 'Wllefhef Mi55 Tracy was equally charmed remained to be seen. Une evening not long after this, he re- solved to call on her. He was informed at the door that only one Miss Tracy was in, and being ushered into the drawing-room beheld, much to hisjoy, Miss Helen Tracy. Site did not seem very pleased to see him, but just stood calmly and haughtily looking at him. He advanced toward her and offer- ing his hand, said, Perhaps you don't re- member me, Bliss Tracy. I think we met here a short time ago. l'm afraid I don't. I think it must have been my sister you met, answered Miss Tracy. No, I'm quite certain it was you, and then the conversation changed, and they drifted to other subjects. All through the evening Miss Tracy was very cold and dis- tant, and he departed, wondering how he had found her so charming at their first meeting. Not long after this,just as he was cross- ing a muddy down town street on business, he saw advancing from the opposite side Miss 'l'r:1cy: she saw him, too, and a bright smile llitted across her face. But just then her foot stuck in the mud, and her rubber came off. Of course Percival had to stop and put it on. and assist her to the other side of the street, lest it should come off again: and then leaving her, returned to his business. This time she had appeared quite like herself, and all her coldness and haughtiness had disappeared. When he hnished his business he started up the street again towards his ofiice, when lo! there in front of him she was again, advanc- ing down the street with a young gentle- man, and in response to his smile and nod he received only a cold stare. ' He saw Miss Tracy quite often during the following year, and- he at last decided to ask the fatal question. With great anx- iety one evening he awaited her appearance in the drawing-room, and he thought of the possibility of her being haughtily un- approachable, as she sometimes Was. His fears were only too well grounded, for when she entered, he perceived at once that she was even more distant than ever. Never- theless, in due course of time he began the usual formulag but what was his dismay when this tantalizing young lady burst out laughing right in his face. Controlling herself she said, Mr. DeWitt, I must beg your pardon, but perhaps you do not know that I am engaged. If you will be so kind as to wait one moment I will introduce you to my sister. She opened the door and called Helen, Somebody came across the hall and entered the room. My sister Helen, Mr. De Witt. Percival turned round, and there standing in the doorway was his fair captivator of tl1e dinner party, blushing and smiling. Her sister softly tiptoed out of the room, and, closing the door, left them together. Of course you know who Mrs. Percival DeWitt is now. JEAN W. BACKUS, rgoo. C74-'I GUY EPCHIN. In the spring we moved into the country for the summer mouths. As is always the case in moving. we were all tired out when :iight came, and I went to bed, glad to think that the days work was over, and that I had the prospect of a good nights rest be- tote mc. 24 XVl1en I awoke the next morning, I began to take a survey of my surroundings. I started down the main road and, looking over into a field, to my surprise I saw a woman planting corn. Poor thing! I thought, she must be very poor to have to go out, in this blazing hot sun, and plant