Longwood College - Virginian Yearbook (Farmville, VA)

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We shall never lose the picture of Miriam Hearring, with her bright lace ever lifted upward, her eves smiling, her voice ringing clear and true as she sings herself and her children into the bliss of music, and cheers her class-mates with the joyousness of a nature that seems never to have known a cloud. See Eva Heterick, faithful as a teacher, as a student never seeking to rule, but ever eager to serve — to do some kindly deed. Lucile Moomaw and Annie McLaughlin go their quiet ways, winning our respect by their determination to succeed. Claudia Perkins is strong already in knowledge of her own powers as a woman, and A ' et happv and merry as a child with a fountain of jov in her heart. Courtney Taylor has always been so modest that even the verdict of the faculty cannot persuade her of her merits. Martha Holman is so enamored of bravery and courage as to become in her acting of the soldier wonderfulh ' realistic. Louise Godwin has been so attentive to her duties as to give us little chance to know her as we wish. Charlotte Merrill is already wielding the power of a gifted pen. Ilia Miller and Bertie Eaton have been so devoted to each other as to be slow in finding how beloved they are by the rest of the class. Carrie and Bessie McGeorge. who are so much alike physically as to make it impossible for the servants to tell which from tother — are also so alike in spirit as to call forth our wonder that two souls could be created so exactly alike in goodness and truth. Each girl ' s character has helped to make the character of the class. Twenty- two proud heads are lifted higher to be crowned with priceless praise by her who has had the task of directing the home life of the school. This she bestowed upon us as a class when she said we had betrayed no trust, brought no reproach upon the institution she would have us honor, or the example she has ever tried to set before us. Twenty-two proud hearts swelled with happiness over the verdict that was contained in our President ' s few words so full of meaning, These girls are all workers. Shall one of us ever forget the hour we all sat in trembling silence waiting for the closed doors of the President ' s office to open — waiting for the members of the faculty to pass from that long faculty meeting. during which our fates were to be decided, and at the close of which we should know how many of us had been pitched? Shall one of us ever forget the face of our President as he at last came to us, so grave and seemingly so troubled, and began speaking slowly: I regret very deeply — oh, heavens! Can it be we are nearly all pitched? That must be what he is going to say, gasped our frightened hearts; and none can forget how swift and bright was the change from seeming gravity to laughter, as he added: Yes, deeply regret to lose you all in January. It is small wonder that we almost went off into hysterics, for this was our President ' s way of announcing that we had the distinction of passing as an entire class to this, our graduation Mary Gr. y.

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Class History of January igo4 IN THE record of every nation, events that mean little, items of little or no interest, results that are insignificant as viewed by outsiders, stand out prominently, veritable landmarks of history to the people of that nation. It is much the same with every graduating class, and to me has been as- signed the duty and privilege of making a brief review of the historv of this, the January class of 1904, and of recalling such events, items and results as have indeed made history for us. As a class, we number two and twenty (if we may be allowed to count our twins as two instead of one ), and we bear the proud distinction of being the largest number that the Normal School has yet sent out as a January class. We come from widely separated portions of the good old State which, wide as she is, and heavily burdened as she long has been, is yet none too wide nor too heavily burdened to send her daughters to this, her fountain head of intel- lectual life, in even greater numbers would she but build to receive them. Though but twenty-two in number, we represent fifteen different counties of Virginia. We did not all enter at the same time. There are only two of us who entered in 1899, five who joined in 1900, six who came in 1901, and nine whom we never knew until 1902. Yet to-night we stand almost as one in affec- tion, in aims, and in aspirations. Each girl ' s school experience has been a part of that of the class. We have known each other ' s aims, shared each other ' s pleasures, and sorrowed over each other ' s failures. Each one ' s personality has so stamped itself upon our memo- ries that in after ) ' ears they will all come back to us. For us, Carrie Sutherlin will ever live as she has moved amongus, dut ' -loving and dignified as a student, yet fun-loving and resourceful as our partner in the hour of pleasure, equal to imitating the solemnity of the Puritan minister in a colonial plav, or the crude- ness of the bridegroom at a tacky party. Ethel Topping is always ready with wit for any waggery demanded, with power to portray any character of the drama — able even to support as John Alden so inimitable a Priscilla as that made by our lovely and charming Mildred Evans. Annie Mason is so faithful in her work as a teacher, so practical in her suggestions, that she has won acknowledgment from her supervisors of her really fine business qualities. Beulah Tillar is so in love with the sound method of teaching she has acquired as to have thought for little else. Of Bertha Harris it has been said by a mem- ber of the faculty that she has a very bright future, and is going to make a great success as a teacher. Elizabeth King, found in The Little Kingdom, as Aunt Mandy calls the kindergarten, the right place for a spirit so pure and sympathetic as we know hers to be. Marie Etheridge, with her softly sweeping skirts, placid and sweet as a summer ' s breeze, won her way through nature study to the love of the children she taught, and carried them with her very near to nature ' s heart.

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Pt ophecy fo7 ' Class of January igo4 WHILE pondering upon what the future might bring to tlie different members of the January class of l ' .)n4, 1 dropped into sleep and fell adreaming. Years seemed to have passed. I was no longer a school girl, but had beconte a full-fledged pedagogue, still on the sunny side of forty. I fovmd myself alighting at the station at Farmville, my mission being to deliver at the State Normal School my now famous address on The Necessity of a Standing Posture During the Recitation. As 1 looked around, a stately looking gentleman, with elastic step, approached me. Allow me, he said; is this Miss Topping? To which I replied, I consider this none of your business, sir. Beg pardon, but I was sent to meet you by my wife, whom you probably remember as Mildred Evans. Then it dawned upon me that this AVas Mr. , now secretary of our old school. Fearing that my pedagogical sternness might have seemed somewhat rude, I answ-ered, Yes, indeed, I remember her, the brown-eyed, gentle- browed girl who was salutatorian of our class. At the familiar old front door of the Normal School I was met by ] Iildred, and with her, wonder of wonders! was Louise Godwin, now the matron of her own Alma Mater. I was shown into the parlor, which had become several times the size of the one I k«ew, in order to accommodate the increasing number of girls who have companv on Friday evening. Well, Mildred, I said, doesn ' t this seem like old times for three of our class to be together within these familiar walls? It brings back memories of the others. Can you tell me anything about them? There are so many of whom I ne er hear. Lucile Moomaw is assistant matron. Her amiable disposition and soothing pats on the back have won for her a tender spot in the girls ' hearts. Do you remember Marie Etheridge? For nearly three j ' ears she occupied the chair of English in the National Uni ' ersity at Washington, but was finally asked to resign be- cause she persisted in spelling the participle ' been ' ' B-e-n, ' and with a capital letter. In less than six months after her resignation, the president of that college, while reading an invitation to her marriage, learned the cause of such a mistake. Then there is Charlotte Merrell, broke in Louise, the girl who used to read every- thing, and remembered all she ever read. She is now perched on the history pedestal of Vassar. I had a letter from Mary Gray last week. She is happy in her chosen work at the head of a query department in Washington. Ah, yes! said I, I remember she always could ask more questions than anybody else, and many of them were stich as would have puzzled Socrates himself. I know you will w ' onder at he change that has come oA ' er Annie Mason. Yoti remem- ber how she disliked the gymnasium, and whenever possible found an excuse to be absent. Well, some years ago she broke down under the strain of superintending the primary schools of Boston. The doctors gave her no hope, but some physical-culture director undertook her case, and after he cured her, she was so enthusiastic oxer the work that she took her whole course. Now she is coach of the ball teams at Bryn Mawr. Do you know what has become of Bertha Harris? Yes, to be sure! Her placidity of manner and soothing ' oice ha -e won for her the position of principal attendant in one of the most famous rest cures for nervous invalids in New York. Just then the servant presented a card. Looking at it, Mildred exclaimed: Who! what! Carrie Sutherlin, Traveling Secretary of the State Missionary Union? At this moment a tall, slender woman, with light hair and blue eyes, was ushered into the room. Well, Carrie, I cried, I knew you were destined to fill some such noble position. We