Mary Baldwin College - Bluestocking Yearbook (Staunton, VA)

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12 The Ajnuial of AN A. F. S. GLRL TO THE M. B. S. GIRIvS, GREETING. The interest which you M. B. S. girls of ' 97, are likely to take in the effusions of a back number A. F. S girl of ' 91, is rather like what the people of modern days would feel, if the Sphinx — that discreet lady of the Nile were ever to open her long closed lips and begin to discourse upon the family affairs of the Pharaohs. Nevertheless, despite the vast chasm of six years, time which yawns between us, we are all ' ' Miss Baldivin ' s girls, ' ' ' ' and that is a bridge on which we can meet, old girls, new girls, M. B. S. girls and A. F. S. girls — not only now, but in all the years to come. That is a fact of which we are all proud, and the older we get, the prouder we grow, for we see in the after lives of Miss Baldwin ' s girls, the effects of the fine, strong, beautiful influence for good, which she throws around us all. Although the old name and the magic initials A. F. S. were very dear to us of ninety-one and before that, yet we are glad of that change which perpetuates the name of the woman who not only founded one of the finest schools in the south, but whose whole life has been a Messing to all with whom she has been thrown in contact. Love and reverence for Miss Bald- win have grown to be a part of the life of thousands of young women all over the country, and we form a sisterhood into which we are very glad to admit you girls of ' 96, and ' 97. Since the thoughts of every old girl naturally turn Staun- ton-ward, as commencement . ' eason approaches, the advent of The Alumnae Record was particularly seasonable, with its attractive accounts of the two meetings of the association, its bright, newsy two minute talks and clever poems of the full graduates, and its enticing suggestion of a grand reunion of all Miss Baldwin ' s Girls at the Tennessee Centennial in June. It would be very delightful if we girls of ninety -one could meet you of ninety-seven and talk things over. We should want to hear from you all about the changes which must have

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The Mary Baldwin Seminary. 1 1 But the coiiscietice-Kinittt:!! Joe was in no mood for expla- nation. ' Come on home aiul let ' s jjo tochurch, he answered savagely. Church ? You can go to church if you want, but I am going to stay here and watch him till you come back. At this reply, Joe ' s heart sank within him. To kill a deer on Sunday was bad enough, but to make his brother stay awaj ' from church was worse. No, John, he said severely, you must come, people will talk. As the farmers stood about the church door waiting for service to begin, there were numerous inquiries as to the whereabouts of the Brown brothers. I am afraid something must be the matter, said farmer Black. Joe Brown hasn ' t failed to be here by ten o ' clock, rain or shine, summer or whiter, since he was elected deacon, five years ago come this December. Now it is most eleven. While the first hymn was being sung, the Browns entered the church. The Deacon ' s head was bowed low as he walked up the aisle, but there seemed to be an unusually bright twinkle in the grey eyes of his brother that brought an omi- nous sigh from the elders bench. The sermon for the day was on repentance. After an able discourse, the minister called on Deacon Brown to pray. That prayer! Its like had never been heard in the annals of Mount Horeb The penitence, the humility the utter self-abnega- tion of the petitioner brought tears to the eyes of his hearers. On the way home the elders wives said to one another in awed tones, that Deacon Brown did seen to grow more consecrated every day of his life. The next dinner-table day the minister dined with his fa- vorite deacon. On the dinner- table was a huge roast of veni- son. Why Deacon, you must have had good luck Satur- day, said the jovial clergyman Where did you get him ? ' Over in John ' s old field. was the sententious answer.

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The Mary Baldtvin Seminary. 13 taken place since we left , and al)out our friends in the faculty and in the servants ' hall, the former of whom still have our af- fectionate interest and the latter of whom we are by no means disposed to forget. In turn, we should try to convince on that in our time were the golden days; that never were brains like our brains, talents like our talents, voices like our voices, nor jokes like ourjokes. Strict candor would compel us to confess that there were jokes like our jokes which amused Noah and his family in the ark ; also jokes gotten oflf by our predecesors and handed down to us, as I have no doubt, ours have been handed down to you. Any way, they are good jokes, arn ' t they? With a little encouragement we should tell you about the jolly little glee club of ' gi which made hideous the warm nights of early spring, when the balcony of Long Room re- sounded with the strains of I ' ll Be All Smiles To-night Love ' and My Bonnie Lies over the Ocean One of the teachers used sometimes to entertain her callers out on the front porch. On those occasions we took a peculiar school -girlish delight in in warbling Goodnight Ladies and Home Sweet Home, in the alluring hope of embarrassing the visitors. We had on- ly one guitar and we had to resort to di.scipline to keep all the members from singing falsetto or trying to, because it was so nice to get in the little grace notes at the end of every line. Everybody laughed at us and we all laughed at ourselves and at each other ; but we had a very happy time over it ayid the present glee chib with its recognized place 07i the commeyiceynent program has grotvn ont of it! In those days they would soon- er have thought of putting us in jail than upon the program for commencement, I am sure. We should probably tell you, too, about Mr. Thompson, the night-watchman in our time, with his red cheeks, red blanket, and a dearer redness than that of either cheeks or blanket — the redness of the big, luscious apples which he used to bring in his capacious pockets for those of us who teased him most. How he used to frighten the life nearly out of us as he came tip-toeing along the back gallery in his big squeak- boots — to see if everything was all right !