Mary Baldwin College - Bluestocking Yearbook (Staunton, VA)

Page 94 text:

JPrBeg for plues tocking OTorfe Rest Shori Story, offered by Palais Roval. won by Marjorie Duf ' fie. Best Poem, offered by Beverly Book Company, won by Alice Montgomery. Best Kodak Picture, oft ' ered by H. L. Lang Co., won by Alyse Rmnpf. Best Art Work, oft ' ered by Mr. Thomas Hogshead, w in by Lucy Page Coffman.

Page 93 text:

iHonosram Club r.ASEBALL Louise Hodges Carmen Cerecedo Virginia Bull Elsie Jones Mary C. Henson Mary Ford Finch Gray Deans Lucy Page Coffman Mary Goodloe Billings BASKET BALL Virginia Bull ; L rv Ford Finch Louise Hodges Gray Deans Elsie Jones TRACK Gray Deans Douglas Summers Elizabeth Putnam Alphonsine Stewart Virginia Bull Carmen Cerecedo Louise Hodges HOCKEY Gray Deans Virginia Bull Carmen Cerecedo Elizabeth Putman Alphonsine Stewart Louise Hodges

Page 95 text:

(Malice I.ICl ' ; anil l ' ' ii ick came- In us strant, ' fl -, out (if tlic stdniiy iiii lit. ' )iit (if a sidiiuy night these two men canie, and into the (d y ' Sptiuhift, a small and very old saloon in Port La Vaca, lluy drifted. Inside its stuffy taproom were a red-hot stove to warm cold fingers and backs hy and enough hot liquor to loosen silrnt tongues. 1 liad linisli(.-d my rounds among ihe sick, ( iy]), m ' horse, was comfortable in the stable, and 1 was sitting with two or three friends near the stove. There were glasses of toddy at our elbows. Outside the autumn winds moaned, and a mysterious whistling as they raced through the crevices in the leaky old side of the saloon made one think of Pan weirdly piping. We heard the whisk of the winds and the lashings of the rain and the drip, drip, drip of the water in the sloppy comers where there were no winds. I can vision the place now — a knocking somewhere, the sudden bang of a door, the straining of hinges, and above all, the strong sweep, the mad hurtling of the gale high in the air. Inside — warm, yellow comfort. - t this moment the door was flung violently open. . 11 in the room turned. A large man with a chest as thick as a gorilla ' s stood in the doorway. He wore a soft, b ' .ack hat, a mackinaw, and cowhide boots, all shining wet. liehind him : . u through the open door swished the rain and wind. He stood at the door with one hand holding the knob, and slowly took in the room, from face to face, from stove to 1)ar, and from rafters to worn floor. After a pause he stepped into the room with unexpected alacrity and tried to shut the door. P)Ut a second man squeezed through before tiie door was closed. I ' or the first time in any of our lives we saw Galice. There he stood before us, gazing unconcernedly about ; his thick hair matted and dripping wet, falling over his high forehead, over his eyes, much like that of a little Pomeranian chow. . n ill-fitting Prince .Albert coat, heavy with the rain, reached to his shoe tops. Galice followed his companion to the bar and stood behind him. The bar- keeper placed a bottle and glasses on the counter. One of these glasses the big man filled and then, apparently for the first time, as he returned the bottle, noticed that there was a second glass. Two glasses? It was a thick, foggy voice. The attendant indicated Galice with a nod of his head. Galice ? The big man turned slowly around and stared down in disdain at his companion. Gentlemen, to us in the room, that is Galice. Make your bow. Galice — pretty.