Mary Baldwin College - Bluestocking Yearbook (Staunton, VA)

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24 THE AUGUSTA SEMINARY ANNUAL. News from ttie Old Girls. NO. I. T HAVE BEEN ASKED to write something about the - - old girls, at least that rather disrespectful term is the only one that occurs to me as the title for my items of gossip. Perhaps the oldest would be better pleased, if fol- lowing the example of a recent writer to the Central Presby- terian, who wittily described Staunton as a town full of lunatics and school-girls, I were to dub the old girls es- caped lunatics. ■• The new girls, who are now reveling in the exquisite humor of time worn jokes directed against the Seminary, would call that escaped a peculiarly appropriate adjective, but honestly, though you all won ' t believe me I know, after one leaves the dear old Sem., that oft sneered at dear comes straight from the heart. It is not that By the river of Babylon we sit down and weep when we remember Zion; this world has not yet become to us the Babylon, the wisdom of the oldest would represen t it. Some of our shadowy dreams have shapened into pleasant realities; still as one and two years have rolled away, the wounds that Conic Sections and Gildersleeve inflicted have healed, leaving, instead of .scars, the most soothing conviction that we wei ' e the stars in the school firmament, a conviction greatly confirmed by the flattering statement of our home papers that each one of us had been graduated with the highest honors in everything. And then I wonder whether, after a while, the memory of the light hearts and unsullied beliefs of those sheltered school girl days may not come to us in wistful thoughts that have, The lingering charm of a dream that has fled, Ivike the rose ' s breath when the rose is dead, Like the sunset glories that follow the snn. Like the echo that comes when the tune is done, Everything tender and ever3fthing fair That was, and is not and yet is there. I think I would better tell all I know about the girls, and a little of all I have heard ; to tell one-half of what I have heard would be a colossal undertaking, possible only

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TIIK AUGUSTA SEMINARY ANNUAL. 23 — nothing. We warn one of them that there is never a rose without a Thorn. To Laura Hagood and Mary Irwin, our painters, — as it is only a question of time before they reach the ultima thule of artistic aspirations, and make Claude and Turner, and all such lesser lights, wild with envy, we leave the canvas and the brush. May their clouds all other clouds dispel ! For Pearl McCreery and Mary Jones, we predict a bright literar} ' career. We give them the blue ribbon, but beg that they do not affect the blue stocking. To Evelyn Morton we give a small time-piece, — that runs a little fast. Time waits for no man. •• For Nora Simpson, There ' s pansies, that ' s for thoughts. Betty Coffee will be a journalist, Eliza Anderson and Eloise Butt fashion-reporters; the former also a stenographer, and our zealous and untiring business-manager, Mary Guy, proprietor of The Staunton Boomer. To these we offer the scroll and pen. In less than three weeks the class of ' 91 will be but a thing of the past. Before the curtain falls, however, we hope to make a last appearance before the public to receive and bear off in triumph the long coveted sheep-skins. As we retire under cover of the d eafening applause of the assembled thousands, the mantle of our wit and learn- ing will descend upon the shoulders of the Intermediates. May the} wear it gracefully and well ! Ring down the drop, — The Act is o ' er ! A. Lucille Foster. Since our Class -Prophet, Lucille Foster, who has so generously showered upon us, kind wishes, and valuable legacies, has stolen from Apollo, the gift of prophecy; from Mercury, the god of eloquence, her glorious talent; has thieved away Cupid ' s own eyes, while the little god, in con- sequence must ever more be blind, there is nothing left, which, we, poor mortals, can bequeath to her, except our very heartiest wishes for her success and happiness in life.

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Tin-; AUGUSTA SKMINARY ANNUAL. LT) to a girl ' s tongue. Two summer ' s ago, Ella Lewis, Lucy Hughes and I were together way up in the Tennessee moun- tains. We sat one day before a big log fire and cleared the room of those unsympathizing beings, sometimes found, who could not see the point of a school joke. But for the valuable information gained then, my present task would be a hopeless one. I heard that Melinda Headley had married a young Doctor, after making her debut, robed in a gown that had a train three miles long, and carrying six dozen roses. (Ella Lewis is responsible for that.) Florida still had a rather sleepy effect upon Thrasher, and May Easton had spent the previous summer in Tennessee, resting after the labors of a society bud in New York. Rebie Metcalf was the wife of a wealthy young lawj ' er in Chicago. Ade- laine Adair, Camille Mercier, Anne Raine, Nett Rotan, and Ellie McClung had come out, and a half dozen of them were belles. Blanche Sebrill was married and did not use slang any more. Bess Hardesty was Mrs. Richardson, of Belair. We wondered a little whether Bess was any more grown-up, and if she said yes ' m-ah in her old fascinating style. We decided that it was easier to think of Mrs. James Garnet, of King aud Queen county, nee Laura Levering, as a settled matron, and that Angie Perry was just in the right place as somebody ' s sweet wife. I had just recovered my appetite for school news, after two month ' s fast, when in October I went to Parks ' wedding in Wheeling. Jen Baird, Lydia McMechen and Jess herself told me all over again what I knew before and volume more. What knowledge I had grasped before taking is so confused with what I knew after taking that I am afraid I shall confound one old girl with some other old girl, and marry her off a year before she left school, if such a calamity befall me, just go to Parks and Ella Lewis — they told me. I think, however, I am correct in stating as a real fact that Anne and Jen Baker are living in St. Paul, and are so delighted with their abode that they have not been induced to leave it by any pleader, charm he ever so wisely. ' ' Jule Hubbard spent last winter at Andover. The love of Jule and Mame is still a beacon light to all darlings. Bessie Eauntleroy has grown into the graceful,