Mary Baldwin College - Bluestocking Yearbook (Staunton, VA)

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As I was coming eastward a month later, a dainty little lady in brown slipped into a seat in front of me and dropped her traveling bag at her feet. The name painted on the end attra(5ted me and in a few minutes I was listening eagerly as May told me of her successes and of the great audience she was to entertain that evening. Mildred, you have not changed, she said later. But you have traveled now over nearly all the world and are still planning new trips. Where will your ambition end ? I wonder where, I answered, and the thought came back to me when I left her. Where will it end for each of us ? We have, indeed, accomplished much ; are there still greater things ? A halo seems to gather around my old companions as I see them again in fancy, and out of the mist about them the figure of the Grey Man of the North rises and stands before me once more, and as he points onward I look beyond into the realm his eyes are piercing, — lo ! the sky is bright with glory and the morning ' s rosy tints have but melted into the purer golden clouds of evening ; and all the way lies clear before us. Elizabeth Matthews Sherrard.

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North, did your veiled prophecy contain anything of richer promise for our dark - haired Philomela than the reality holds ? The very next day my friend, the German professor, told me that Lillie had just returned from abroad, w here she had been studying the languages and making researches in some old Anglo - Saxon manuscripts found in England. He spoke of her almost reverently. Her kno vledge, it is immense, he said, she leads in her branch always, her head is full of truth and she never forgets. The pi(5 ure gallery v as open, and, allured by delightful memories and gay voices I made by way within. There I joined a crowd that was standing before a beautiful painting, the gem of the colle(5 ion. I looked at it again with interest, for I knew the honored artist and the greatness of her fame, my old school-mate Hill, whose picStures and sketches are copied and sent throughout the country into the very homes where her sweet stories are read with eagerness and reread with lingering appreciation. On my journey I spent the night in my old school town, and there where I had known her, I found Annie again. Married, of course, and a marvelously neat and well - kept home was the one to which she welcomed me, for she had carried into it the patience and determination which overcome all difficulties. Virginia! I cried, as I stepped off the train at my next stopping place, surely you are Virginia, your bright face betrays you. And I was right. She was married, too, and was making life a happy dream for the one whom she had captivated by her music and charmed by her winning ways years before. Where shall I go next? I thought, when I left Virginia ' s merry home. I was anxious indeed to visit Gabriella in her Southern city, where she still rules as queen in her social circle, but learning that she was preparing to spend the winter in historic Rome, I went instead to the rolling West, where I found Bessie studying prairie life in all its phases, making drawings for a great history of the West to be issued in the spring. Well satisfied herself with her fame, what more could her friends wish for her.

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A MviVtBt IFantaBy. ' T is in the heart of the forest, The trees throw shadows gaunt, As the moon shines softly through them. On the fairies ' woodland haunt. The cricket pipes a signal. And now from far and near To join the joyous revel, The elfin bands appear. The first is Johnny - Jump - Up, With his splendid retinue, In violet velvet mantles, A princely sight to view. Who is this winsome lady. This dainty little fairy ? The Queen of all the Buttercups, In yellow robes so airy. The bands of sprightly Wildrose, And Marguerite so shy, With dainty Queen of Bluebells, Are softly drawing nigh. And there is Black -Eyed Susan, Snap- Dragon is her lover, And as she trips adow n the glen. His fairies round her hover. At length they all are gathered On the mossy bank of the stream. Awaiting their lovely leader, The beauteous Fairy Queen. The pale moonlight grows paler, A horn sounds, faint and clear. As on a slanting moonbeam.