Jacksonville High School - Crimson J Yearbook (Jacksonville, IL)

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The Nautilus of nursery rhymes, which she bought, but Samantha Calpurnia promptly hid it, and brought forth a large book on Shakespearean characters,illustrated. “This,” said she, “is the proper book from which to instruct Thomas if he’s to be worth anything.” JerushaPortia’s younger heart made her long to make some of her famous sugar pies or cranberry jelly for their young guest, but such food, according to the “Family Physician,” would prove highly injurious. White taffy or fudge was not to be thought of. Not even was the child to be allowed any food containing lard, although Samantha Calpurnia had rendered it out with her own hands. Unwillingly Miss Billings consented to the purchase of A. B. C. blocks, a large rubber ball and a tin horse as gifts for the youngster, although she was strongly convinced that checked gingham aprons and bibs would have been far more to the purpose. The evening of the arrival of the summer guest came at last. George Washington Jones, the old coachman, was sent in the family carriage to meet the train. It was all nonsense, Miss Billings had said, for any of the family to accompany him, for the nurse most assuredly was in charge of the little boy, and that was all that was needful. The nurse should go back home on the morning train. It was an hour or more before the carriage could possibly return, so Miss Samantha sat down to read over her schedule for Thomas to see if it were correct. She was somewhat in doubt as to whether he ought to walk a half hour or an hour before dinner, and whether it would be better to have him sleep a half hour in the afternoon, retiring for the night at five o’clock, or for him to nap an hour after dinner, going to bed at six. She observed the nursery from floor to ceiling for the twentieth time to assure herself that all was in readiness. The necessities of the nursery table were inspected again, one by one, with satisfaction, all these arrangements seeming as far above criticism as did the snowy linen and shining silver of her dining hall. Suddenly she heard the sound of wheels creaking over the gravel drive, as the carriage came slowly up to the house. In a flutter Miss Samantha Calpurnia walked to the door. Jerusha Portia had preceded her, and in the growing dusk was flying down the long steps of the old fashioned veranda to meet the carriage when it stopped. “Jerusha, bring that child right out of the night air as soon as possible. Bring him straight to the nursery at once!” called her sister. Miss Samantha hurried back to the nursery, and sitting down awaited there the carrying out of her command. A confused mingling of voices ensued, followed by a merry, ringing masculine laugh and Jerusha’s unrepressed giggle. Then the door flew open, admitting a tall, handsome 3

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The N a u t 1 1 u s new baby and all her worryments. Let me see, that was two years and a half ago come this June.” “Yes, that’s about right,” agreed the younger sister. “Well, if that nurse’s a commin’, and I reckon she’ll be more’n likely the one to bring him, she c’n march herself straight back the minnit she gets him here, for, if he’s commin’ to stay with me, I reckon I know how a child oughter be raised properly, and don’t want any of your fine nurses botherin’ around. Sophy’s says they’ll pay any amount of board we ask, but I guess we’re not so poor yet a while that we’ve got to take money from kinfolks who’ve come to visit us. They’ll not get any ‘Tommy’ out o’ me, neither. That child shall be called by his right name, Thomas, as soon as he gets inside of my door. ’ “Mercy! Samanthy, what’ll we do about heating the guest room for so small a child?” asked pretty, thoughtful Jerusba. “Land sakes, I’m not a goin’ to have my guest room spoiled by that young-un. No, indeed! This sittin’ room’s too good enough for that.” Again Jerusha Portia waited for her elder sister to take the lead. “I’ll just get about it, an’ fix this room into a nursery.” According to her plan, Miss Samantha ordered most of the horse hair furniture from the sitting room to be stored away in a back bed room. What little was absolutely necessary for their own use she allowed to re- main, wrapped, however, in strong burlap. Jerusha Portia was sent to the attic to bring down the old crib bed, which was thoroughly washed, aired and revarnished. Jerusha Portia had suggested that it be painted white, to look fresh and dainty, but her elder sister, greatly shocked, exclaimed: “What was good enough for you and me, ’s good enough for Sophy’s boy, too, I just guess. And then it’s all these fine cribs and things as first begins to spoil a child. Sophy shall not complain of my spoilin’ Thomas any.” The arrangements for the nursery went on. A sufficient quantity of burlap was purchased at the village store to go around the entire room, reaching from the floor three feet upward. All the pictures were taken from the walls and two or three nursery prints put in their place. Then, after much consideration, more burlap was purchased to cover the floor, that the new rag carpet might not be spoiled. Miss Samantha Calpurnia spent all her leisure time poring over the “Home Doctor” books. She had pamphlets upon the “Proper Foods for Children,” “Correct Ventilation in the Nursery,” with numerous other articles, while for the nursery table she collected such necessities as Mrs. Winslow’s Soothing Syrup, malted milk, cold cream, camphor, goose grease, cough drops, witch hazel and peppermint. When Jerusha Portia purchased the burlap, she noticed a beautiful book 2

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The N a u t 1 1 u young man, who strode across the room, and, taking both of her hands in his, kissed her heartily. “Well, cousin Samantha, here’s your baby—your infant Hercules. And this is my nursery, is it? Jolly place! only your crib isn’t big enough. You see, Jerusha told me all about it out there. Well, don’t change your program on my account. I’ve been sick and require taking care of, you know-This is a complete change of surroundings, you see, and that’s what the doctor says I need. You are not disappointed in me, I hope?” Miss Samantha, who had arisen at his entrance, sank limply into her chair. “Cousin Sophy alius would get things mixed,” she gasped. “Well, I think the most of us are a little mixed on this question, don’t you? George Washington, there, is decidedly mixed,” said the gay visitor, eyeing the old negro who stood glancing first around the room and then at him with a mystified air. “Cousin Jerusha is the only one of us, I believe, who isn’t mixed.” “Well, I suppose you’re here and you’ll have to stay,” said Miss Samantha. “Jerusha, it was that youngun that was to go to bis grandmother’s, and it was the other Tom that was to come here, wasn’t it?” “That’s about right,” agreed the bright eyed Jerusha, who had suspected as much all along, but who had feared to say so, lest the young man should not be allowed to come. “Yes, I’m the other Tom,” said the summer guest. That Entrance Exam. MATIE CAROLINE ATOR, ’06. It was the first of October. New students were arriving every day in the little university town of Camberwell, and here and there, in the long halls of the old state university, groups of young men and young women were gathered about the bulletin boards, reading the numerous announcements posted thereon. Sophomores with sly looks, which meant mischief to “Freshies,” boldly admitted to each other that they were mighty glad they had no entrance exams. The Seniors, known by their haughty and indifferent mein, looked on with sarcastic smiles as Juniors, proudly bearing the honors of upper classmen, discussed the matter of electives, and planned for the work of the year; while the Freshmen, with looks of restraint on their faces, seemed too bashful to take any part at all. As Nell Marr came down the long 4