Hathaway Brown School - Specularia Yearbook (Cleveland, OH)

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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

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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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corn. Presently I came to a house and, being very thirsty, I went to the kitchen door and asked for a drink, when, to my great astonishment, I saw a middle-aged man washing the dishes and trying to hush a fretful baby, while a boy about fifteen Was sweeping the floor. Hiding my astonish- ment as best I could, I secured the desired drink and went on. Looking across the fields, I perceived two more women plowing. I went over to where they were, and my face must have expressed the astonishment I felt, for one of them said: You must be a new one in these partsf, We only arrived yesterday, I said. I suppose it seems queer to see women working like this, for they don't do it in other places, I am sorry to say, but then you'll get to it, I reckon, especially as you'll have to pitch in an' help, too, in harvest time, for we generally have such a big crop that every woman in the place has to turn out an' help, so there won't any go to waste. P The effect of this startling announcement that I had got to help run a threshing ma- chine was too much, and 'I started off, dis- gusted with the people, if not with the country. Soon I met a farmer's wagon which a Woman was driving, and I asked if she were going to the village, which was about a mile distant. She said that she was, and asked if I should like to ride. As I wished very much to see the village, I availed my- self of her invitation and climbed into the wagon. She tried to enter into conversa- tion, but we failed to hit upon a congenial subject. She asked me ifI had read The Signs of the Times for Women, and the Divine Right of Woman. But as I an- swered that I had never seen either of these magazines, she seemed to conclude that I was a very illiterate person and not worthy of her consideration. She let me down at the first street corner, and as I walked up the street, I began to wonder if the world had begun to turn in the wrong direction. The first store was a millinery store, with a number of trimmed hats in the window. I stopped and read the sign, Mr. James Johnston, Fashion- able Milliner. I walked along farther and came to a blacksmith's shop. Upon looking in I saw a woman shoeing a horse, while a girl, her apprentice, was blowing the bel- lows. I looked at all the signs on the street and they read thus: Rosa Lee, Flour and Feed, John Hale, Candy Maker, Isa- belle Stuart, Druggistf' James Mason, Plain Sewing. At the end of the street was a large rolling mill, ' Sarah Howland, Rochester Roller Mill. Use Sarah's Flour. I went to the postoflice and entered into conversation with the postmistress. It seems to me, I began cautiously, that the women have a good deal to say about things around here. I Ohlu' she said, , we have the say about everything. It's the only way to bring man to the realization of the capabilities of woman. I wandered home again, and, to my hor- ror, I found my father with an apron on and his coat sleeves rolled up to the elbows, mixing bread. This shocked me so that I awoke, and found, to 1ny great relief, that' it was all a dream. P7 FLORENCE CARROLL, Igoo. 25