Peace College - Lotus Yearbook (Raleigh, NC)

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And tlie Ijl-cjs ami biittcrHics Ik-w by and the sun shone on the grass- covered nionnd. I wiped away a tear. When I looked again the jelly was shaking as with convulsion. What is Irene into now? I wondereil. A great conuuolion was going on — an explosion I Tl(e center was auhirl, but at the edges I made out flying teeth and hair and a foot. Report after re]inrt. as of cannon, caused the startled hair on my head to stand on end. What is it? Oh, tell me, I cried. The Angel wrote: She went to a strange city where there was nobody to tell her grievances to ; she stood the silence two weeks, then she exploded. I looked back with a shudder, but the scene was gone, and tlie shaking-jelly turned slowly and tremblingly. r)ur p. let next, 1 knew, and I waited expectantly fur the noljle death of a .great wom.iii. I )eli])erately the mould turned, and deliberately it settled and came to a stand, and I beheld the livelv Elizabeth in the act of committing suicide by hanging herself, I shrank back, and the .Angel wrote: .She thinks it will be such a good practical joke on her mother to find her there. When I looked again the shakin.g-jelly had changed color and taken on a rose light, while a delicate perfume of lilies (imported from Cologne) fiUed the air, and I saw . nnie l.irein reclining an a p lush luunge of decided elegance, holding with her last breath a book of German Philosophy. She died of the most stylish disease known at the time, the Angel wrote, in pink ink, acute inflammatory apoplexy of the pyloric appendix on the posterior . esophagus, Ah, I should have guessed it, I gaspe.l : how like her! - .n imported dis- ease, I know. Next the transparent side showed the fate of our sweet and studious little Myrtle. : wild joy-dance of I ' cejees round a boiling pot in which resided the bones and flesh of their belovi-d missionary. Dut their ardor was somewhat dampened when it was found that the flavor of Trigonometrv permeated even the marrow. The shaking-jelly revolved du its pivot and I In. iked with eager fear to see the fate of Helen, m ' best-loved friend. She spiod .ahme in the beauty of her wiMnanliood, Lively anil lovable, but suddenlv the demonic figure of a lunatic rushed out, with a pistol in one hand, a dagger in the other, and a club in another. The fiend rushed at her with shrieking words, but Relen, too polite to turn her back, smiled as if with a smile to turn him from his wild purpose. On he dashed, and I closed my eyes before the awful deed was done. yMi, how nnich I wish Shakespeare could have seen the next jjicture before he wrote his Ixomeo and Juliet! . scene of moonlight and love. The gentle, romantic h ' annie was in the act of eloping with the milkman. Beneath her

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All, sliall I ever forgt rushed a horse, the earriat: street men raced after him. der of hoofs and wheels. t that scene of wild confusion ! Down the street e behind nickiny from side to side, and down the Screams anil shouts filled the place, and the thun- . policeman clutched at the reins of the terrified runaway as the horse dashed past. And in the plunging , swaying vehicle I made out our president, dignified and calmly smiling, and anon murmuring, Whoa, Bess; this is really ([uite conspicuous. Jump! Jump! a man cried, springing at the maddened animal. .She raised her eyelirows, smiling, and bowed to him. Then like a whirhvinil the horse dasheil against a mail-post and the carriage crashed intu a thousan l pieces. . nd Hazel? — she was thrown higher and higher, but wlien last I saw her she was smiling and waving her handkerchief serenely. Tlic picture faded ;ind the shaking-jelly trembled and revolved on its axis. Not changed in all these years, I said, weeping. Our dignified presi- dent, the same to the last. The next picture reflected in the crystal side was one of melancholy quiet. Our vice-president lay propped up with cushions, her fair, w ' an face lying back and the transparent lids closed over the tired eyes. Plainly, she was soon to breathe her last. The Angel wrote in letters of light : Irene Lacey told a joke on her to the A. M. boys and she lingered on. but never recovered. She died nine days after. Ah. so young to die, and so beautiful! The shaking-jelly quivered with a sigh and turned slowly to the next. (Jnlv a green grave with a modest stone. I bent closer and read the inscription : KATE B. HILL

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vine-clad window he sat in liis rustic cart, amid liis shining cans. And Fannie, above, descending- a rickety rope-ladder. ]iresented a picture of beauty seldom seen. Hut half-way to the bnttuni — alas for true love! alack the dav! — her foot caught and she tumbled head down, feet up, into a three-gallon can of milk. He drew her up by a foot ; he took her out and emptied her ; but all was in vain. Love ' s martyr ! And the last was to be my fate. Witli what trembling- eagerness I watched the revolutions of the shaking-jelly. How with straining eyes I peered into the crystal sides that went by. With what bated breath I waited. At last — at last, it showed signs of settling, but suddenly, to my horror and consternation, the Angel of Destinv reached out her alabaster arm. took tlie jelly, and ate it before I could .gasp out a remonstrance. . nd I am left to brood longin.gly over the page in the Book of Fate which I can never turn. I, alone of the ten, know not where my star is to set, nor how ' the flower of my life is to wither. And if, O gentle reader, you should ever have the misfortune to consume at supper a ten-sided shaking-jelly, which does not agree with you, may your nightmare never be that you write a Senior Class Prophecy. The Prophet.