Plymouth High School - Mayflower Yearbook (Plymouth, IN)

Page 29 text:

THE SEN IOR ANNUAL fa' Y 'ww 1 f ,M s l l l l l X l EMMA CHESNEY A M. Kalamazoo College A. B. '92 Unlverslty of Mlchigan A. M. '97 Latln and German l l l l C. E. HARRIS A. B. Lebanon College A. B. '06 Ohlo State Unlverslty Sclence , H. G. SCHE LL Michigan State Normal College Cleary Buslness College '06 Commercial Department ,ef-'..,N ,, Mm .4 ' Mk if ,f 5. M. ADALAIDE MCGUIRE Chicago Muslcal Colleae '04 Columbia School of Muslc Muslc and Drawlng '05 .xy l l

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THE SENIOR ANNUAL R. A. RANDALL B. S., M. Pd. bnlverslty of Mlchlgan '00 Mlchlgan State Normal College '97-'04 Science and Mathematics ALAL ' 1 44 eg : Q, - f 5 - .5 K, LV... . iw F uv ALICE J. GRIFFIN A. B. Cumnocks School of Oratory Northwestern University '07 English EVANGELINE MORRISEY A. B. O. E. MCDOVVELL A. B. Principal Michigan State Normal College '03 University of Michigan '06 History Indiana University '08 Mathematics

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THE SENIOR ANNUAL ESTHER O'KEEFE I I U72 ZDBSQU C0901 1 I I had just received my degree at the State Varsity in June and was so tired after the Prom and house party, that I ran over to B- to rest up. B-is a wee bit of a place, but very shady and cool. The square white houses sit complacently back in a sea of green lawn, far removed by the row of high picket fences from the glare of the outside world. Farther down the square was the same corner- store, where I used to invest every available penny for licorice nig- ger babies. Everyone in this village of Friends was glad to see me for my father 's sake, for he had grown to manhood among them. My mother was of the world's people, a somewhat forbidden topic in these regions. The sincerity of these villagers was so genuine, that had a stranger cared to assume any superior airs, they would of necessity have fallen aside like a discarded cloak. My Aunts Prudence and Patience were the nearest of my kin, and I chose their home as my headquarters. It was once an old tavern on the State Road. Here my grandfather kept open house and here my father was born, and his mother died. VVhen but a tiny girl I used to come and stay weeks at a time. The things that I best remembered from these occasions were the quince honey and hot muffins for tea. First, however, I must tell you something of my aunts. Aunt Prudence was a large finely proportioned woman, whose word was law. She was always scolding and Worrying over some minor detail, but remarkably well did she play the masculine part of the house- hold. Oftentimes I have seen her don a pair of rubber boots and seizing the plow-share, show that worthless hired boy Zeke, how to run things. Aunt Patience is as different, well there is about as much diiference as can exist between a delicate damask rose and a purple cabbage. The latter is sometimes very useful, but for my part I prefer roses. Zeke was waiting for me at the station with the buckboard. His freckled, smiling countenance had not changed in all the years since I had last seen him, except that over it time had traced slight furrows, and the freckles if anything, were browner. A dampish drizzle had set in and the old gray nag trotted along with surprising alertness, considering his years, until we were soon at the farm. It was the same place as of other days, with the prim evenly-clipped box-hedges, and flaming rambler over the queer arched door framed by its two tiny panes of leaded glass. Zeke handed me out with the air of a prince in a fairy tale and there stood Aunt Patience at the door to greet me. The first thing that came to my notice was the tatting and shuttle in her hand. Since my earliest remembrance she had been placidly making tatting.