Indiana State University - Sycamore Yearbook (Terre Haute, IN)

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THE NORMAL ADVANCE 7 going to encounter when you came up this evening? she unished. itYour deductions are entirely correct as usual? he returned, composedly. 4tI was in the same boat with the Iitle boy, who, having run to the garret to escape chastisement, had to choose between spending a night in the dark and exposing himself to probable punishment? The girl threw back her head and laughed in joyous abandon. ttAnd preferring known terrors to unknown, like the little boy, you decided to put on a bold front and come forth? she said, tears of laughter in her eyes. ttYes. And as was the ease with the little boy, I found that absence is a wonderfully ef- fective effacer of misdeeds? He drew up the corners .of his mouth in a characteristically ludicrous fashion, and looked at her ehallengingly. The girl laughed, she couldn,t help it. She didIft want to laugh, but his drollery was in- imitable. But she immediately assumed a severe expression and added: t4Perhaps you may discover, as did the little boy, that punishment is merely postponed? ttWell, in any case, I escaped a night in the dark, which is just cause for thanksgiving? he returned calmly. Miss Keating frowned slightly and turned her attention to the group of Italian musicians on' the lawn below. They were playing the low, seductive music of the Southland:the soft cooing of the violins rose lingeringly above the deep droning of the Violas, and the tingling of guitars. Miss Keating leaned far over the railing, absorbed in the music. Mr. Warner watched her interestedly. :41 didnt know you were so fond of music, he ventured finally. itWell I amfi she said, a little defiantly. 4tAnd I edon,t see that there is anything so re- markable about it?7 I Mr. Warner was silent, deeming that his safest course. ttI have never heard you play? tentatively. 7.7 i4I dont play. I wish I did. I Would give anything in the world to be able to play' like that ragged little boy down there?- Mr. Warner meditated. ciWhy don,t you learn? he suggested.- Miss Keating turned upon him impatiently. ttWhy doift I learn! There are any number of reasons, any one of which would be suf- fioient? ttFor instanceW icWell, in the first place, Pm too old to begin now; in the second place, I havenit time; and in the third place, I havent the money?7 Mr. Warner ruminated. I ttWell, the second two are easily disposed of? he said, judicially. Miss Keating looked around inquiringly. ttWhy donit you marry a rich husbandw he suggested. Miss Keating preserved a dignified silence. ttDid it ever occur to you that you might fall in love sometime?,, he insinuated. ttI have always considered it a possibility? uAndi you havent Changed it to a prob- abilityW itI have never had occasion to do so; ferently. tiDid it ever occur to you that a man might fall in love with you. W thes, it has occurred to me several times. Mr. Warner smiled,broad1y. Perhaps it was just as well that that corner of'the veranda was dark. ttDid it ever occur to you that I might fall in love with you W tiWelleeyes, since you mention it.,, ccIn case of such an emergency, what did you intend to d027, 4tNothingY, itShort, simple, and to the pointf, he mur- Inured. A silence ensued. The music vibrant, inex- plicably sweet, rose and fell. Miss Keating, her hands clasping the railing, leaned forward, tensely. Mr. Warner touched her hand, diHidently. ' i indif-

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6 I THE NORMAL ADVANCE You Never Can Tell THIRZA C. PARKER. Mr. Samuel Prescott IVarner was. in love. He hadn,t told anyone about itrperhaps because any statement from him would have been super- fiuous, for everyone at the big summer hotel knew it. But, contrary to his usual good judgment, Mr. Warner had elected to fall in love with the most impossible girl there. I say c4impossible? because none of the men had been able to make love to her, successfully. Mr. Warner was the hero of several affairs of the heart, and was rather well-versed in the ways of womeneor thought, he was at any rate. But this particular specimen of femininity didn7t seem to fit, in anywhere. He found himself turning her most obvious remarks over in his mind, and survey- ing them, suspiciously, from every possible angle. He was uneasy when he was talking to her7 and he was frantic when he wasn,t. A1- together, Mr. Warner was paying rather dearly for his lack of judgment in falling in love with the only girl at the hotel who wasntt in love with him. However, there is always a subtle attraction for the average person in the unat- tainable, and Mr. Warner was very human. In no other way can I account for his falling in loye with Anne Keating. She wasnit pretty, and she didnt wear Paris gowns, but she was decidedly clever. Mr. Warner had never met a really clever girl before, which perhaps ac- counts for his not knowing how to handle this one. His previous extensive experience in such matters seemed to have left him entirely. And then, again, Mr. Warner had never been in love before. He had thought he was, a number of times, but had always eomeiout of his numerous attacks unharmed. But, after four weeks of un- successful striving: to gain Miss Keating7s favor, he finally decided that this time he had really contracted the disease. And, as is the case with people who put 0H taking things till late in life, he had it awfully bad. If she had shown the slightest regard for his feelings, it woulan; have been so bad, but her way of calmly ignoring all his attempts at inti- mate discourse left him hopelessly at sea, drift- ing whichever direction her fancy or caprice might ordain. This was the state of aEairs one warm even- ing in late summer, when everybody was con- gregated on the big veranda. Warner had taken up his position by a huge pillar so as to command a View of the wide hallway, and, as he talked, he east frequent, watchful glances to- ward it. He had been talking half an hour, perhaps, when Miss Keating emerged from its oapacious shadow and passed swiftly to the opposite end of the veranda. IVarner continued talking a few moments longer, and then follow- ed her leisurely. yea ccI have a crow to pick with youf, he said as he came up. ttYou passed me this afternoon and didnt even look at me? ttDid I? I71n sorry. I was in a bad humor this afternoon so you mustnit hold me account- able for what I did or did not dof, 4:07 so you were in a bad humor this after- noonWt He laughed amusedly, the while he stood with his hands behind his back, his long body swaying t0 and fro. that was wrongW, ccO, nothing-and everything? gtEnigmatical as usual. Do you know, youtre a puzzle to nae. I cant quite make you out? CCNO ?,, ccNo. You are so unexpected. You remind me of a cactus. You have a prickly side and a nice, satiny-sniooth side, and you present the alternate sides with disconcerting suddennessf, A little red crept into the girPs face, and she laughed, uncertainly. She was conscious of the quizzical eyes bent upon her, and was un- comfortably aware that he was enjoying her diseomfiture hugely. I ttAnd you didi'ft know which side you were

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8 THE NORMAL ADVANCE itYou didnt mean what you said a while ago? Miss Keating made no reply. iiDid you? he insisted. ' gAm I in the habit of saying things I dont meaniw she returned calmly. itNo-o, butel, Mr. Warner stopped. There didn,t seem to be anything else to say. Another Silence. , ttYou are letting me hold your handf, The member in question was promptly with- drawn, and Mr. Warner regretted his rashness. i4Beautiful night;7 he ventured finally. No answer. t2A trifle warm, though?7 Still no answer. Mr. Warner began to get uneasy. He wished it wasnlt quite so dark. tiMiss KeatingeAnne, Ilm a brute? ciGrlad to hear you acknowledge it? itI am. I had no right toeal ccOf course you didnitltl iiI am a wretched villain, a worm in the dust. I have no right to live at all, and I humbly beg your forgiveness?7 Miss Keatingk shoulders were shaking. Warner could not decide whether from laughter or weeping. So he had to move up a little closer to find out. It probably turned out to be the former, for, whereas before the moon had revealed two shadows, it now showed but one. Julia Ward Howe MARGARET LAHEY With Monday, October 17, came the death of one of wide reputation and interest, J ulia Ward Howe. She was ninety-one years of age. Her life has been one long chain of unselfish and untiring services to mankind. She is chiefly thought of in connection with her writings, but she is also identified with prison reform movements, the equal suffrage movement7 and numerous activities of a philanthropical char- acter. Her one great desire was to uplift man- kind, and when at the age of twentyufour, she married Dr. Samuel Grindley Howe, she found in him a companion of high ideals and cease- less activities. Mrs. Howe came of a family of culture and early showed great literary tastes. She was all her life a leader in thought and progress, and was at all times associated with men and wo- men of great attainments, among whom were Charles Dickens, Washington Irving, and the older J ohn J acob Astor. Mrs. Howets works are: ttThe Passion Flowers? WWorks for the Hour? ilA Trip to Cuba? itThe Worldls Own? tiFrom the Oak t0 the Olivef7 iiLater Lyrics? ctSeX and Edu- cation? ltMemoir of Samuel Grindley Howef, icLife of Margaret F uller,77 tiModern Society;9 tiIs Modern Society Polite?7 4iFrom Sunset Ridgefi c4Sketches of Representative New. Eng land Women? She is survived by four children, Mrs. Flor- ence Howe Hall, a prominent woman suffra- gist; Mrs. Laura E. Richards, an author; Mrs. Maude Howe Elliot, wife of the artist, John Elliot; and Prof. Henry Marion Howe, pro- fessor of metallurgy at Columbia University. It is given to few women to attain the heights which she reached and at the same time to remain as sweet, as unassuming, and as womanly7 as did she. A nation owes a debt to such womanhood, a nation has need of such citizens. But if Julia Ward Howe has no other monument, this will be suchientethat the words of her great song, cVIlhe Battle Hymn of the Republic? have rested and will continue to rest, on the lips of a nation from the merest child to the oldest veteran.