Hittle Township High School - Hi Lite Yearbook (Armington, IL)

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A Prophecy Class of 1909 An impressive silence pervades the atmosphere as I sit alone on the east porch of my New England mountain home, this evening. The clear blue sky dotted with myriads of tiny stars, the harvest moon peering through yon mountain peaks and throwing a soft mantle of light over the valley and the dew settling on the cool green grass at the close of a long summer day carry me back to the days of my childhood and the old homestead among the maples and elms of Central Illinois. Right well do I remember how on my graduation from the Hittle High School in 1910, I dreamed of the beauties and grandeur of the future of a life which should bring me fame throughout the land. Oh! foolish days of youth. The next year I married and with my husband who was an actor began a career on the stage. In this line I continued for 13 years when the breaking of my health compelled me to seek rest in travel, which I began by taking a visit to my old home in Armington, Illinois. While enroute to Illinois the airship in which I was sailing suddenly became deranged, compelling us to alight at a small country town, Vernon, in Indiana. While waiting for repairs I was strolling over the town when I ran upon a wiz- ened, gray haired, swarfish man of perhaps 40 years of age. He was a curious looking personage and, while his dress and appearance and the old blind horse which he drove to a rickety huckster wagon plainly bespoke the farmer, it was easily told that he had seen better days. At his side attired in a red calico dress and faded slat sunbonnet reared back with the dignity of a queen sat his wife, hale, hearty, and fifty. Despite the many years which had elapsed since I had seen this woman, her laughing brown eyes and pleasant smile recalled to mind at once an old teacher at Armington and I decided to speak to her. Hailing them on the street, I soon had the history of their past ten years laid bare. Ray Albright, for such was the old man's name, greeted me very cordially and his wife, formerly Miss Jessie Newcomb, were living peacefully together in their suburban home near Vernon, whither they had gone shortly after Ray's dismal failure, six years previous as the rival of Webster in the production of big words. I must not tarry however, as the ship was now ready. I bade my friends good-bye and started onward landing in Armington August 6. I went to the post office and who should I see at the door, ready for all corners, but the new post- mistress, formerly Miss Mabel Medberry, but now Mrs. Edmund Darnall. She told me that through an immense poultry farm which they had started a few years ago all their wealth had been lost and that now while she ran the post office, Edmund ran a milk wagon for a living. After a few days here I passed out to Lickskillet, Illinois, where an old friend was now living, Lenore Walker. She was a confirmed old maid and lived in great happiness among her chickens and other pets. Lenore was a great favorite with the children in and around the Skillet but woe to any man who should dare step foot inside her door. Before leaving my Armington home for the West, I decided to take a trip into the shady wood south of town where I had spent so many happy hours. How like the old days of my youth it seemed. Here and there I wandered among the oaks and walnuts and maples dreaming again the dreams of the happiness of my childhood. When startled suddenly from my reverie I saw an old tumble down cabin, apart and alone on the hillside while nearby ran a small stream of water. Green were the banks on which rested a cup, the one Billy Doon had oft drank fromg for this was his home and neath yon porch sat a woman, rustic in look and at each side of her chair lay a faithful old watchdog, in her lap lay dozing a opossum. At her feet a young coon softly sleeping seemed to wholly occupy her attention. These were her pets so it seemed and she was contented and happy. I did not disturb her meditations but walking back to the village heard she was a student of nature, that she sang to her pets, the birds and the flowers, nor mingled much with the townsfolk. A fine woman she was or so they said, but now an old maid and quite homely. She lived but to delve into nature, for content with the world was Miss Blackburn. Leaving Armington for the West we stopped for the evening at St. Louis and went to hear the famous Madela and equally great Heinrich who were making their world tour in Grand Opera. I had heard much of this famous couple but never before had heard them sing. At first I listened to the rounded notes of the great contralto Madela, and then as the full clear tones of the tenor Heinrich filled the house I sat entranced. It seemed a dream. Loud and beautiful sounded those two wonderful voices till there was scarce a dry face in the vast audience. It seemed like being with the infinite to hear them as they closed the program with a selection from Rubenstein. After the vast concourse of people had left the auditorium we started at once for the hotel Southern where the noted singers were staying and here we met Madame Madela and Monsieur Heinrich as old friends Mr. and Mrs. John Hanger, his wife being the former Miss Edith Davidson. Leaving St. Louis we started for the West and were going along nicely when the gasoline in the engine gave out and we were compelled to alight in a ranchhouse in southern Colorado. Going to the cabin door who should greet me but my old schoolteacher, Mr. Kramer. What a surprise! I thought he was still an instructor in the University of Heidelberg and to find him here attired as a cowpuncher with chaps, a slouch hat, heavy leather boots and spurs was beyond comprehension. Yet as I think back I can hardly help realize that he seemed perfectly at home. Showing us into his home he introduced us to his wife, formerly Miss Mauna Verry, who had run away from home so long ago. But what seemed most homelike was their eight prattling little children, Augustus, the eldest boy, was a captain, indeed. The very image of his father. Securing oil at a nearby town we soon, with many regrets, left our friends and continued to San Francisco. After purchasing supplies we started on our trip across the ocean in our airship. I shall never forget that journey all through the long day and half the next when we reached Tokyo, it seemed that we were everlastingly doomed to destruction in the great waters below, but at last we reached safety. Spending a short visit with the Mikado we started for China and landed in one of the inland towns, Fauns, early in the evening. Going at once to the American settlement we registered at a hotel and went out for a short walk before dinner. Hardly had we gone two blocks before we ran across a friend who we had not seen nor heard from in several years, Miss Gertrude Hanger. I hardly knew her she had changed so but one could not easily forget those laughing eyes. Gertrude in- formed us that she and her fiance, Mr. Dixon, had disagreed and she had come to China as a missionary. She had devel- aoped the Chinese habits and dress and it was surprising how she could eat rice with two little chopsticks. The second day in Fauirqs, Gertrude took us to one of the missionary schools where Lloyd Keisling and his Chinese wife we re teaching the Christian Gospel to the lower classes. Having run across so many of my old friends I determined to visit the American Ambassador to China, Markland, and wife who were at San Too. San Too is a pleasant little town in central China, surrounded by a huge grove of mangold trees. On three sides mountain peaks rise to a great height on which from the village in the valley can be seen great white peaks of snow the year around. The village itself has a pleasant even temperature and is quite a watering place for tourists. At the north edge of town where the aristocratic set reside, can be seen the Gothic home of Charles Markland, and it was here that Charles and his beautiful wife, formerly Miss Alma Logue, entertained my husband and I, for a week in true Royal fashion, when I received a telegram informing me of the success of a play which I had written while on the stage. It was entitled, A Romance in the Hittle Township High School, and my youthful ambitions and aspirations for fame no longer seemed dreams but a reality. We made a flying trip home in our airship, making the journey in three days and arrived at our New England home last evening for a few weeks rest before taking up our work on the stage again. . Ruth L.. Grissom April 10, 1909

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