Mary Baldwin College - Bluestocking Yearbook (Staunton, VA)

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The Mary Baldivin Seminary. 21 Well inuin, I ' ll make it $4.50. No. Well mum, couldn ' t do it for less than $3.50. In a very independent way, I say, Here comes a car, I will take that I did not know where I might land, for had not every car I had seen been marked, Harvard Square or Cambridge. I ask the lady next me, if this car would take me to Harvard — and am told, yes. With- in fifteen minutes the car stops, and the conductor calls out ; Harvard Square. Not knowing exactly what to do I go to a drug store to get a drink of soda water, then ask how I may go around. I had gone but a few steps in the grounds, when a very nice looking young man steps up, and asks if he may show me around I remember my brother ' s last command — entreaty — but trying to convince myself that, May be he is a guide. I accept with pleasure. He shows me through the different buildings, and knowing the history of each so well, I almost succeeded in believing him a guide. But the embarras- ing part is yet to come — when we part. Now I think, If he is a guide, I must pay him, but I ' m afraid he isn ' t. I finally decide I will offer, for then my brother may believe I thought him a guide. He seemed to be a little surprised, but tipped his hat and said, he was delighted to have the pleasure, and put me on my right car. I afterwards hear he was a Summer Student ! Within a few minutes I find myself at the Blockley Square Flats, asking for my grip. I leach the station just in time, and return to Providence, thinking not only how queer brothers are, but how queer t4ie world is. Fanny G. Peck. A MODEL PASTOR ' S WIFE. There are many model pastors and there are also many people to rise up and praise them, but one does not so often find a model pastor ' s wife. There is one who is a model of models. She was quite young, almost a girl when .she came with her husband and

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20 The Annual of seems to outvie the other in beauty and utilitj ' , but shall follow the crowd. Suddenlj I stand before what seems to me, a work too beautiful to be wrought by human hands — Abbey ' s Quest of the Holy Grail. Five different scenes, beginning with Galahad, an infant; and telling for itself, the story of that quest, so long delayed — but finally accomplished by Sir Gala- had, who robed in red is well worthy the praise: God make thee good as thou art beautiful. But I must not linger here, for my pen is too feeble and my thoughts too slow to describe that magnificent panorama that seems to float before my eyes even I ' ow. But still following the crowd, I find mj ' self on the third tioor in Sargent Hall. So much beaut} ' in so small a place causes me to utter an exclamation, but beauty too deep to be appreciated by one of my age. It has been said that next to the Bible, Milton ' s enumeration of the rebel Angels in Para- dise Lost is the best commentary on Mr. Sargent ' s paintings. ' ' Thammuz came next behind, Whose annual wound in Lebanon allured, The Syrian damsels to lament his fate In amorous ditties all a Summer ' s day, While smooth Adonis from his native heath, Ran purple to the sea, Supposed with blood of Thammuz yearly wounded. ' ' Filled with awe and almost inspired, I turn my back upon the paintings, and soon find myself in the open air. Now being very 3 ' oung, and only a girl — I think the next best place to see would be Harvard University ! While in the Public Librarj I counted my money, finding $5.43 and a ticket to Plymouth — to which place I had expected to go next morn- ing. I see a cabman. What will you charge to take me through the Har ard Grounds ? I can ' t mum, there ' s a man over there I think will do it. He steps across to talk with his friend, aVjout my queer looks, I supposed. Cabman No. 2 steps across. Would you like to go to Harvard ? Yes. Step in my cab, I ' ll take 3 ou for five dollars, cheap at that. Horrors, — only 43 cents left ! I don ' t think I shall go.

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22 The Anmial of baby Kate to our city. A bright, pretty girl she was, and before long she had won the hearts of all her people. As time went on she grew more in their hearts, and soon was not only the mother of her family, but the mother of the church as well. Who was there among the ladies, who had any little trouble with which she did not wish to burden her pastor, for he had so much to bear, thai did not go to this dear little w oman for advice? She was never too tired or too busy to listen to these troubles, and was always ready to give her advice and assistance. She was never too much taken up with household duties to visit with her husband, for she felt that it was as much the duty of the pastor ' s wnfe to visit the poor and sick and stranger as that of the pastor himself. She was always ready with something dainty for all the sick and afilicted, and when she had nothing to take with her, she carried that gentle voice and beautiful smile, which were better to some than dainties, for they brought sunshine and comfort to all with whom the} ' came in contact. Then she was the poor ' s best friend. They were not too proud to tell her their suflfer- ing and need, because the}- knew that they would find in her a most ready helper. She sympathized with them in their need, and no one was too poor or lowly to be her friend. She was the children ' s best friend as well as that of the aged. Her house was always open to all the children, and her carpets were never too fine for their muddy shoes, nor her furniture too good to be converted into play things. They thought there was no place like her house for fun,- and no one like her to make fun for them. Her house was open to all, and any who might go there were received with open arms. She was known by her old horse Morgan and the little rockaway. It belonged to all the invalids of the church, and the children as well, for there was always room for one more in that carriage. But not only the carriage, but the owner of it belonged to the invalids also. Wherever there were any sick members of the congregation they thought there was no one who could nur.se them .so gently and well as this dear