Mary Baldwin College - Bluestocking Yearbook (Staunton, VA)

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The Oldest Inhabitant. r- B. W. IOMAS BALDWIN WAVT is one oi the best known per- hi iges in M. B S circles. By nature self-possessed, slightly conceited, a trirl • indolent, ami extremely digni- lied, do yon wcm der that he is highly esteemed ? Asa pi ivileged character, he is a frequent visitor in all the recitation rooms, bill his most decided taste is for languages, while in other blanches he is a mere smattercr. In del man and French, he is a silent scholar: one would almost imagine him to In- a mule. He even •deeps iii class but that is tolerated since he has never been known to snore, and has no terrifying examinations in view, lo produce night-mare. He has a loudness tor - [iiincls ai d birds, spending much time in hunting the former and sedulously watching the How long has h been here? Judging from his conduct, one would In.- ,nie that In- hail founded the Seminary; but, like some .ills, he ntvei tells his age, so, how ate we to know ' . ' In addition to Ins conventional -nil ol graj . on state i his person is adorned with a medal presented to His Honor lor superioril) in general and Ins abilitiy in frightening both teachers and taught, in particular. lb- might be termed l.e Sergeut de Ville, lor he chases stray cats at nightfall, alarming the students more than would a whole battalion ol feline strangers. To show that he possi i -a ite blanche, the following storj is told ; At one time a pitcher ol watci was overturned on a couch. The occupant oi the room was about to be severely reprimanded foi carelessness, when some one came to ihe ie cue, and said, I!. W. did it. Needless to say the deed was al luded i« no mote, alter ihe leachtr had assured the e,iil that the offense was not so flagrant, alter all. We owe Miss Miller a debt ot gratitude foi her d Monsieur Baldwin Wayt, to ihe Seminary, His first mission was to amuse the •; it Is, who were sick in the Infirmary. The In- tendant btcame vei much attached lo him, and w ben she went away; she longed f r B. W. lo acccnijany her, but neither physical nor moral suasion rould Leisuade him to view a new home with approval, so lie still remains a devoted attache oi the Seminary. During his youth, music was bis favorite study and pastime. For mans eais he was connected with Ihe Thomas but, owing lo his obesity u years, he has In en i I to indulge in milder forms of amusement than were once his w ait B. W ' . ' s abstinence from all bad habits assures him lone; life. May he live forever and die happy. When bis funeral oration is delivered a second Mark Antony cannot say, This was a man; lor he is only the pet, pride and joy of ihe M. B. S-, in the shape of a cat.

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Epilogue. OW Time takes wings unto himself and flies — we know not whither ! Swifter than the flight of a homing-bird is the passage of each day ' s experiences. Ever dissolving into each other they forever blend or succeed each other in joy or woe like the shifting lines of a summer sky. Every yeai sees a swifter flight and a speedier evanishing. As the light-hearted child vainly strives with eager, outstretched arms to catch the golden sunbeams ever eluding his grasp, so do we just as vainly strive to detain Time in his flight. Now, the school year is gone with its hard study; gone, with its pleasant hours of recreation; gone, with its petty worries; gone, with its occasional testing times of real trial and trouble. And yet, there is one thing left of which even Time himself cannot rob us, memory. The past, as Wordsworth says, has Deposited upon the silent shore Of Memory images and precious thoughts That shall not die and cannot be destroyed. How kind is Mother Nature, in that she makes our pleasant memories the most lasting, smoothing away those of past worries till they are as if they had never been, save, perhaps, that we are the stro nger for their discipline. On the other hand, she leavee to us the fruits of all our labor and the accompanying happiness of strong, and at least partially successful effort. So it is mainly with satisfaction and pleasure that we thoughtfully turn the pages of this volume, which carry us back over the past school-year. What busy, happy days they were; so busy, that we did not realize how Time was flying ! Ever does this thought recur to us, and with it the melancholy realization that what is past can never more return. Even when we are happiest, this thought of the transiency of pleasure casts a shadow over us. Now, as for our achievements, in what light should we regard them? A story is told of Ole Bull, the great violinist, that, in answer to the high eulogy of a friend, he replied, The years of toil which I have spent for my art serve to show me bu the more clearly that I know nothing. If a genius could make this statement, should we be willing to rest content with our present attainments ' May we never consider our task as accomplished ! It is, then, with mingled gladness and sorrow that we contemplate our work which is finished, but not complete, as we bid farewell to this school-year, with its efforts, its failures, its successes. We want this volume to rest on the book-shelf of every Mary Baldwin girl, as a veritable souvenir, bringing to remem- brance the mingled yarn, good and ill together, ot school days. Now, as we tenderly turn the last leaf of this book, though it be with a sigh that what is past can never more return, let that sigh be succeeded by a smile at the happy memories of the term of ' 98 and ' oy. Edith Emily Holt.

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Mr. M Erskine Miller The following yar he became an at- tendant at the Western State Hospital, being afterwards trans- ferred to the steam department as fireman and sttam-fitter. Then the Wesleyan Female Institute secured his services as engineer and plumber. He held this position for four years, when he left Staunton and remained two years at Rockbridge Alum Springs. But. again, the mighty cause of Education was calling him, and to its urgent appeal he nobly responded. Returning to Staunton, he became an employe of the Mary Baldwin Seminary, where he has since discharged theduties of night watchman. having the care of the steam and heating apparatus of the institution during the night watches. Mr Smyth ' s versatile talents have proved a great blessing to this institution; for he has served in the various capacities of engineer, steam fitter, painter, superintendent of the grounds, boy-terrifier, etc Soon after being taken into Miss Baldwin ' s employ, he re- turned to Ireland on a visit to his mother. While in the Child Counthry. he married, and on his return to America brought his wife with him, John Smyth seems to have found his life-work Though paths of tame are open to him in other directions, he has magnanimously resigned them all and will devote his time and talents to the Seminary. In the spring of ' 98, when the shrill scream of the American Eagle was heard over all the land, summoning her sons to war — John Smyth burned to go to the aid of his adopted country. His patriotism, his valor, his ambition were aroused — but then, he bethought him of the chaos he would leave behind. Who would care for the beloved palms in the warm- house? Who would apprehend the stray V. M. I. boy that strolled by the Sem. and gazed at the windows ? Who would fire blank-cartridges at the love-sick serenader, as he harmlessly warbled his amorous ditties to the sleeping maidens within ? John Smyth asked himself these questions. He trembled for the good of the Seminary, and, although the struggle was a hard one, gave up his ambition and remained with us A little anecdote, which we have heard related of him, will serve to show his enthusiasm on the war question. A troop of soldiers were passing through Staunton To the multitude ot people at the depot, suddenly appeared the apparition of John Smyth, approaching in mad haste He had no hat; the breeze was tossing his hair and flapping his coat-tails. There was a gasli under his eye. Some one asked him what was the matter. Faith, I heard the soldiers were coomin ' .an ' I didn ' t see the fince, an ' here it is. answered Mr. Smyth, pointing to the gash. We rejoice to say. however, that despite its many allure- ments, the war did not entice hint away, and we may still hear the familiar voice calling, Young loidies, plase close yer blinds! Kate Jonks.