Mary Baldwin College - Bluestocking Yearbook (Staunton, VA)

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holds of Westover and Berkeley were wont to meet once each year in picnic fashion. It seems to our highly-colored imagination that the Harrisons and Byrds are again assembled in merry groups. We see The Fair Evelyn seated upon the green, talking in a low, sweet voice to her dearest friend, Anne Harrison. Evelyn is thinking of her lover in far-away England. She looks toward her father with an appeal in her great brown eyes. But her appeal is in vain and she lives her days at Westover in quiet longing for her Lord whom she is never to wed. What is this next picture which calls our attention? Surely no colonial maiden was as bold as this. Yet V -ginia had her Priscilla, too. Life was not without its chai-ms in those colonial days nor was Cupid without his darts. The heart of Miss Betsy Hansford is his target this time. Truly Cupid hath strange ways. A certain youth of Williamsburg has been captured by Miss Betsy ' s charms but she will hear none of his suit. In his dire extremity he appeals to Mr. John Camm, the professor of divinity at William and Marj College, to aid him. In vain does the Reverend John plead with Miss Betsy, proving to her by passages of scripture that it is woman ' s duty to marry. His charming parishioner meets him in his own field when she tells him that he may find her answer to his entreaties in Second Samuel, twelfth chapter, seventh verse. What is his sur- prise and perhaps joy to find these words: And Nathan said unto David, ' thou art the man. ' ' We fancy that the wedding which fol- lowed was a happy and a joyful event. The sun is slowly disappearing over the treetops. The approach- ing twilight i eminds us that we must cease our dreamings of things past and come back to the reality of things present. So we end our musings with this picture of that most delightful and important occasion — a colonial wedding. Annie Bridgers. References: 1. Story of Pocahontas. — Cooke ' s History of Virginia. 2. Story of Governor Nicholson. — Fiske ' s Old Virginia and Her Neighbors — pp. 132-123. 3. Story of Evelyn Byrd. — Some Colonial Homesteads, by Marion Harland — pp. 43-49. 4. Story of Parson Camm. — Williamsburg, the Old Colonial Capital, by Tyler — pp. 156-158.

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what was yours should be his. You called him Father, being in his land a stranger — and fear you here should call you Father. I tell you then, I will; and you shall call me child. We leave the alluring picture of the little Princess and her Captain to turn to more stirring tiines in the Colony. The eccen- tric and cantankerous Governor Frances Nicholson has fallen pas- sionately in love with the beautiful Miss Burwell of Williamsburg. We laugh merrily as we think of this strong-minded young lady firmly refusing His High and mighty Excellency. We see her toss her dainty head as the Governor in the grandeur of his carriage and four passes her on the streets of quaint old Williamsburg. It sud- denly enters her lover ' s mind that Doctor Archibald Blair, the brother of the worthy minister of that name, is his rival. Now The Reverend Blair is the Governor ' s opponent in affairs vestral. When His Ex- cellency imagines that the indomitable Scotchman ' s brother is the favored one of his own fair lady love, his irascible soul is moved to anger. But we suspect that his blustering speech to The Reverend Blair, Sir, your brother is a villian, and you have betrayed me, only affords our colonial maiden much men-iment; and when the peppery Governor declares that if she marries another he would cut the throats of three persons, the bridegroom, the minister and the justice who should give the license it daunts her independent spirit not in the least. As time has left us no record, we can only wonder if she further wounded the Governor ' s self-important dignity by becoming Mrs. Dr. Archibald Blair. We turn fi om this amusing love story of Virginia ' s willful maid to the picture of The Fair Evelyn Byrd. We first see her at the brilliant court of Queen Anne. All eyes turn toward the lovely American debutante as she passes down the ballroom with the young and handsome Lord Peterborough. Her eyes are aglow with love and hope as she turns to her gay companion. What a contrast to the next picture we have of her! The all-important Colonel William Byrd has em phatically refused to allow a daughter of his to marry that Popish gentleman, Lord Peterborough. As we idly roain over the estate of beautiful old Westover, we reach the spot where stood in former days the oak under whose peaceful shade the house-

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ullip Qlotn PRIZE STORY ILLSON had just returned from an extended tour in Europe, and had invited several friends to spend the evening with him in his apart- ments, the chief feature of the entertainment to be the story of his adventures in Europe. He had knocked about the world a good bit, and had collected many interesting curios, so while his friends viewed his latest collection, he arranged the chairs about the hearth and set out the tobacco. The men appeared deeply absorbed in the col- lection, when one happened to spy a curious coin. Look here, Willson, whei ' e did you get this coin with the Latin inscription? said one. Oh, I picked it up in Rome, but there is a peculiar story con- nected with it. I ' ll tell you fellows about it, and then you can draw your own conclusions, whether you think I was crazy, drunk, or asleep. It was while I was in Rome. One day I went to a curious old building to make some sketches. The room in which I was at work was rectangular in shape with a spiral stairway at one end leading to a tower. The windows were small with the sills about two feet out of my reach. The walls were smooth, but in some places a little notched. The frescoes were wonderfully well preserved, so I made several trips there and became quite friendly with the warden. I decided to spend my last afternoon in Rome, finishing my sketches of the frescoes. After I started sketching I found that 1 had more to do than I had thought, and became so interested in my work, that I did not notice the approach of darkness. Finding it too dark to work, I