Millsaps College - Bobashela Yearbook (Jackson, MS)

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He sat down amid a roar of applause. Bailey. Whereupon arose a most portly personage in a capacious Prince Albert. Time and feeding had expanded that once romantic form, the poetic chin of long ago encroached upon the borders of a white cravat. Deep-set wrinkles had gath- ered around his mouth, his hair was iron gray, but behind the same broad forehead the crafty mind of Bailey was working as of old. With massive head lowered as for a charge, one hand hanging loosely at his side and the other ready to be thrown aloft in the air, he opened his mouth and spoke in a most stately and impressive manner : Gentlemen, fellow-classmates, it has been many years since we last met around the festive board. Many changes have taken place in our lives and in the life of our country, and I regret to state that the changes have not all been for the better.- Take politics in this State, for example — corrupt, my friends, corrupt. As you all know, I alone among all the candidates for the Legislature from the county of Webster stood for honest, open politics, or something like that, only to go down in defeat before a notoriously worthless scoundrel and a set of scheming, bribing thieves. As Mrs. Bailey said to me the night of the election : ' Defeated, but not dismayed; overcome, but full of courage, Thomas; for right will conquer in the end ' — or something like that. Therefore, my friends, remember this in 1931 when next you go to the polls, and vote for one who stands for the rights of every individual in the great and glorious county of Webster and in the whole State of Mississippi. Scarcely had the applause ceased when he rose again, Boys, he said in a timid, hesitating manner, I hate to leave so soon, but — er — well, the fact is, Mrs. B. prefers to have me home before ten o ' clock at night, and, well — if I ' m not, I ' m afraid it will be exceedingly uncomfortable for me, to say the least — Be seated, interrupted the toastmaster. Brooks. A small, thickset man with a long black beard, a ring of sleek black hair around his head and a white bald plain on top of it, deliberately came to his feet. In a deep, slow voice that lingered long on every word and paused between, he spoke: For the last twenty years I have been working as a photographer; I have supported myself and family in comparative ease for fifteen years, and now am ready to retire on an income larger than any I ever dreamed of as a school-boy. On such an occasion I feel that it would not be out of place to state that my total yearly receipts amount often to as much as $500. I feel that I have said enough, and I yield the floor to the next. Hand. A small man came to his feet slowly and lifelessly. There was a weariness in his manner and an expression of disgust with the world and the Class of ' 09 that caused a feeling of sadness to come over his classmates. Cheeks sunken, deep wrinkles ' round his mouth, hollow eyes — all seemed so different from the gay young Charlie of long ago. Drawing from his breast-pocket a little old lace handkerchief, Boys, he said, this is all that I have left to show what I once was — nothing else remains to me of the life I once led. Youth, happiness, friends — all these departed long ago. But I still have left the greatest thing of all. Here his manner changed, a faint color came into his hollow face, his eyes brightened, and with a sudden return to his old quick manner, he drew from another pocket an oblong package. Here it is! For it I have sacrificed all that I once possessed, for it I have toiled night and day in ill-smelling laboratories. The remainder of my life shall be spent in per- 27

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Senior Prophecy. It was the night of June loth, 1929. In the banquet-hall of the Edwards was a table set for twelve — a long, white table covered with shining silver and sparkling glass. At each end and in the center stood tall vases of fern and yellow roses; the chandeliers were gaily draped with green and gold ribbon; t he walls were covered with banners. At the end of the hall was a great white pennant with the legend MiLLSAPS in purple, and, just beneath, a green one with Class of ' 09 written in letters of gold. All was ready and waiting. Just twenty years before, in that same banquet-hall, just such a table had been set for twelve. Promptly at the stroke of nine a door had opened and in had come the Class of ' 09. Ten boys and two girls, light-hearted, happy, full of hope, and glad that their school-days were ended, in they came, one by one, till all were gath- ered around the table. At this their last meeting before they should leave their Alma Mater, another banquet was planned — one to take place just twenty years in the future. The same toastmaster was to preside, the same songs of class and college to be sung, and, last of all, a t the calling of the roll, each should rise in his turn and give an account of himself and what he had done. Amid much fun and laughter it was planned — that far-off banquet when each should have realized his hopes and ambitions. The twenty years had gone and again all was ready and waiting. Promptly at the stroke of nine the door opened as before and in they came. Boys they were no longer — grey beard, bald head, lined and wrinkled face — the passing years had left their marks on all, some smiling and evidently prosperous and others sad, stoop- ing, care-worn. Gathered once more around the table after so many years of sep- aration, they told stories of the long-ago school-days, of pranks played on callow young Profs, even they now displaying silver threads among the gold. Finally the master of ceremonies rose to call the roll : Appl ewhite. Down at the other end of the table rose a well-built man, tall, middle-aged, dressed in true Western style, his face and neck tanned to a dark brown. Straight- ening his bright red tie, smoothing down his tumbled hair, and looking around with an air of perfect assurance and rollicking good-nature, the speaker began : Fellows, I never dreamed I ' d have to get up here and tell you that, after all these years, I ' m still a single man. ' Tain ' t my fault, though. Nearly ten years ago, when I was over in Texarkana, I saw the purtiest little girl in the world ; she was a peach — but that don ' t come in this tale. After I had taught Math a year or two to a set of stupid school-boys, I cut loose and went West — finest place in the world. Say, you can spend the whole day ridin ' and shootin ' ou t under the sky, free as a bird. It ' s the only life worth living. I ' ve been there nearly eighteen years now, and never saw the time yet when I couldn ' t get game enough to give a feller a sup- per fit for a king. Why, down there on my ranch they ain ' t another place west of the Mississippi River or this side of Heaven can beat it raisin ' cattle and corn. And, fellers, if you ever happen out that way, stop by and I ' 11 show you the real life on the rolling plain. Maybe the dishes ain ' t washed every day, but the grub ' 11 be there, and the welcome, too. 26

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fecting it. By means of this one instrument I shall hold the world in the hollow of my hand, the whole scheme of the universe will be changed, and you will live to see it. He sank back into his chair exhausted, his cheek paled, the light faded from his eyes, and his habitual expression of ennui returned. There were a few moments of silence, then the name of LeggeTt was called. There was no answer. The master of ceremonies drew a letter out of his coat- pocket and read : Lincoln, Oklahoma, June 6, 1929. To the Class of ' 09: I regret exceedingly that I can not be with you on the night of June loth, but certain unforeseen events necessitate my absence. Ordinarily my practice would allow me to leave, as most of my patients are at present alive and well; but I have decided that by proper economy two can live on my income, and — well, it will be impossible for me to get off just now, as things seem at last to be coming my way. But you needn ' t tell her I said so. Yours as ever, W. C. Leggett. MULLIXS. All eyes were turned with interest on the man who now stood up. He was tall and lean almost to emaciation, his clothes hung on him with a forlorn air, his face was a network of mournful wrinkles, even his eyes seemed to droop at the comers. And when he spoke it seemed as though the sorrows of all the ages had been poured into that one voice. Listen to the sad story of my life. Just sixteen years ago on the twenty- first of last month I had finished my electrical course at Cornell and was employed by the Electric Company of Meadville. I was sent out into the suburbs of that great city to mend a transformer; the current was to be off until six o ' clock. It was all due to a habit I got into at college — the disastrous habit of working over- time. I picked up the wire and could not let go. It was drizzling rain and not a soul in sight except a young girl who was just then coming ' round the comer. She realized my plight instantly, pulled oft her rubber overshoes, and snatched my hands from the wire. T:en I regained consciousness, several people were trying to help me — but she was gone! Boys, — here large tears gathered in his dismal eyes and slowly trickled down his cheeks — boys, I have been looking for her ever since. I have been all over the civilized world and the greater part of Franklin County and I have not found her. I shall spend the rest of my life looking for her — the most beautiful, the most — But here he broke down entirely and, sinking back into his chair, sat with drooping head while the other names were called. Miss Ricketts, calls the master of ceremonies. All is silent There goes up a sigh, for each remember how she, in the good old days, delighted with her verse of wit and humor. Consequently, despite the fact that she is now a great physician, they had expected a poem, for surely the divine spark had kept itself aglow. The master calls the next name — but hold! there is a rustle without the ban- quet-hall and all are gladdened with the familiar but long unheard I ' m comin ' , Br ' er Rob. Greetings being over, her name is again called. And as she arose it seemed to all that she had changed little from the Miss Rickets of our school- days. Time seemed to have laid his hands less heavily upon her than any other member of the class; her hair was still as black and her eyes as bright and cheer- ful as before. 28