LaGrange College - Quadrangle Yearbook (Lagrange, GA)

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Nineteen-Eighteen THE QUADRANGLE where many of our happiest hours had been spent. Girls were strolling everywhere as of yore, but could I believe my eyes, were those really men who were walking about as if they, too, belonged there? It was hard to believe that LaGrange which was formerly most emphatically a college for young women, where the very occasional man was viewed with extreme interest, now admitted men into its academic halls. I was feeling some- what saddened to think that every thing was completely changed since my day, and I knew nobody among all those groups, when suddenly a woman came out of one building and walked across to another. There was something hauntingly familiar about her size and carriage and I spent the next few seconds in trying to remember where I had known that walk. When I next looked through the instrument, I found myself gazing into a large, splendidly equipped gymnasium. The class had assembled and was waiting for orders. I naturally looked for the person who was to issue the commands. There on a raised platform at one end of the room stood the same person who had so greatly inter- ested me as she crossed the campus. She was clad in bloomers and middy which made her size more noticeable than it had been on the campus. The class came to position and I followed her as she led them through the easy graceful motions of a dance step. It seemed to me that I could almost hear that command of my gym days given so briskly and executed so charmingly by Miss Potter — Step-Bend-Step- Point ! With this memory a thousand others came rushing back and I marveled at my stupidity in not recog- nizing Mary Lizzie Wright before. After a long sigh, I turned to Mr. Edison to express my wonder at this marvelous invention and to thank him for the pleasure he had given me in thus affording me the sight of my classmates and flooding my mind with delightful reminiscences of my college days, when the door burst open and Ila rushed in exclaiming, For goodness sake, Jennie Mae, get up. It ' s five minutes ' til breakfast. — Jennie Mae Erwin, ' 18.

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THE QUADRANGLE Nineieen-Eighteen Time fails me to tell of the unusual experiences which that school mistress met in her clay ' s work so I followed her as she left the schoolhouse after having, with unruffled calm, administered fifteen strokes with the ruler to the palm of her lankiest, laziest pupil. She slowly walked up the road and turned in at the gate of the most ancient-looking of all the houses in the vicinity. She entered, put her books down in her room, where mottoes such as God Bless Our Home, hung on the wall and such ornaments as china ducks sitting on real grass graced the mantelpiece. Then she went out on the back porch where she washed her hands in a tin pan on a shelf, and after partaking of the evening meal, she returned to her room and looked longingly at Slumber and Sleep, boldly embroid- ered in red on the pillow shams. But as if impelled by a sense of duty, she went into the parlor where the rest of the household sat around the wall in front of their enlarged ancestors, who gazed sternly from their enlarged frames. It seemed that the circuit rider was preparing to lead evening devotions. The little schoolmarm sat primly in her chair with folded hands while her eyes followed him with rapt admiration. I turned away from the instrument — this was all I could bear — for by this time I had recognized Mardel Taylor, and I was full of sympathy for her, because on graduating with eight years of French, she had expected to be professor of French in one of our great uni- versities. Would you believe that Harriet Rains gained both fame and a husband imme- diately after graduating? The next thing I saw through the machine was a page of the New York Times showing a picture of a charming family at their country home. The mother played with the twins while the father looked on with evident pride. Beneath the picture was an article which told how Harriet Rains was spending the summer with her family on the farm, after having successfully published The Loves of Lillian, the best seller of the year. The next scene I recognized as Five Points in Atlanta, with its usual rush, bustle and hurrying throng of people. In this ever-changing crowd, my attention was drawn to one spot undisturbed by the hurry of the crowd. This spot was just off the corner of the sidewalk directly in front of Nunnally ' s. There beside a pot hanging from a tripod stood a lassie, clad in sombre garments and wearing an old-fashioned poke bonnet, whose plain- ness was somewhat relieved by a red ribbon around the crown, which bore the words, Salvation Army. She was steadily ringing a bell which induced an occasional pass- erby to give alms. From time to time, persons from the crowd would stop to talk and as the lass responded, she raised two large, calm, brown eyes and I had little trouble in recognizing Mary Kate. Whilst I was wondering what had induced her to discard the once-loved rouge and other frivolities of fashion, that familiar scene changed to one that was at the same time both strange and familiar. I found myself gazing at a hill on which were several im- posing structures. On closer examination, I could read this inscription on the arch above the gateway, University of LaGrange. Although the campus had been enlarged and several buildings had been built since my school days, I at once recognized the quadrangle

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THE QUADRANGLE Nineleen-Eighteen Senior Will STATE OF GEORGIA, County of Troup. SCttflUl All Mttl bg aJljrse llresentB, That we, the Senior Class of 1918, of LaGrange College, in said state and county, being in possession of a sound mind, memory and understanding, do make and publish this, our last will and testament, hereby ex- pressly revoking any will that may have been made by us heretofore. ITEM 1 . To Miss Davies, our honored president, to whom we are deeply indebted for the interest she has continually manifested in us, we do bequeath to be held by her in trust, for the benefit of less well-behaved Seniors, our soft voices, gentle manners, and our sweet dispositions. ITEM 2. To Miss Winslow, our dean, who has always been so ready and willing with her help and advice, we bequeath a perfect system of Student Government which, when assumed by the Student Body, is guaranteed to give the dean not the slightest care or uneasiness. ITEM 3. To Mr. Tague, we will enough of our youth to keep him from ever grow- ing old. We especially wish it to enable him to preserve that boyish glee and that man- ner of slapping his knee when amused, that he displayed at the circus and on similar occasions. ITEM 4. To the Faculty, we, mindful of their longsuffering and forbearance, be- queath the memories of our recitations — only. ITEM 5. We recommend our ability for sound reasoning and understanding to the Juniors and underclassmen, hoping and assuredly believing that unencumbered by these, we may be able to seek our fortunes in the fields of matrimony in case teaching should prove too strenuous an occupation. Item 6. To Louise Foster, Maud Harris bequeaths her dignity to be used at all executive meetings. To Laura Lee Satterfield and Evelyn Goggans, her wonderful gym ability to be used only when all efforts toward cutting fail. Item 7. To Josephine Haley, O ' Lura Campbell leaves her quiet and demure manner and to the next librarian, her presence in the library. ITEM 8. To Emily Allen, Mary Connally wills her winning smile and charming grace. To Alma Murphy, her extensive correspondence from Somewhere in France, together with her various souvenirs, pictures, etc. ITEM 9. To Miss Gane, Nellie Humber leaves her babyish ways and the prefix Little to be attached to her name. To Gus Childs, her little white shoes to be worn on all dress occasions. ITEM 1 0. To Evelyn Smith, her roommate, Harriet Rains wills and bequeaths her ready tongue and extensive conversational powers. To Lillian Van Devender, her treasured pictures fof which Lillian has always entertained such admiration.