Providence Technical High School - Review Yearbook (Providence, RI)

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1930 THE TECH REVIEW 63 lem of whether to wear red or white roses in her hair that night. • One year of the war had passed, with its tale of defeat for the South, and taking its toll of death from both North and South. And Naomi Sutherland was in love. She could not have told you just what the fas- cination was—whether it was his tall, splendid figure, topped with its magnificent thatch of blonde, curly hair, which made so striking a contrast to her dark beauty, or the resolute set of his chin, or the smile in those blue-gray eyes. But, at any rate, in love they were, and she was to meet him in the garden at six o’clock. At last she was ready. She ran out of the door and down the path which lead to the garden, peering anxiously into the dusk as she neared the rose-arbour. Yes, he was there already! “Paul, you did come!” He laughed gently as he kissed her. And did you think I would stay away? But wait, I have somthing for you.” He pulled from his pocket a letter and handed it to her. Naomi paled as she recognized the writ- ing. “It is from Jordan. How did you—” Paul Stuart regarded her gravely, exactly. “He came today with a message for our leader, telling us to expect more fugitive slaves tonight at the Underground Tunnel. When he found I knew you, he gave me the message which you just re- ceived. Naomi shrugged her shoulders impa- tiently. “But let’s not talk of him. What of our plans for tomorrow night?” I have decided, Naomi, that we can- not be married until the war is ended. I am a Union Soldier on Southern soil assist- ing slaves to escape through the under- ground tunnel. You do not realize the danger of my position. And then, your parents!” Naomi stamped her foot angrily. “I do realize your position fully. But there wouldn’t be half as much fuss now as there would be after the war is over. And as for my parents, you know very well that my father is one of the most staunch abolitionists the South possesses.” Paul’s face grew sadder as he spoke. “But have you thought of Jordan? You know that I did not know of your relation- ship with him when I made our plans. He loves you, Naomi, and you have no right to trifle with his affections as you arc doing.” Naomi, realized the painfulness of the situation, and was woman enough to rise to the occasion. Her anger was gone now, and she lifted her face bravely to his and said, “I was wrong. Forgive me and, if you can, forget. And now go, and may God bless you.” He pressed her hand in a last farewell and was gone. He glanced at his watch and quickened his footsteps accordingly. In half an hour the slaves were due to ar- rive at the tunnel and he was a good fifteen minutes’ walk from the place now. But hark! Was that the crackling of the bushes on beyond the tunnel? He could make out only the dim figure of a man sit- ting alone in the little clearing which sur- rounded the camp. As Paul watched, the man rose to his feet and started to make his way toward one of the cabins. “Halt! In the name of the Confcd- Iff I lie man wheeled about and then turned to flee. Paul broke into a run as he recog- nized the man. He must be saved at all events, for Naomi’s sake. But Paul dashed into the clearing and drew his gun just a moment too late. There was a shot, and Jordan Lee fell to the ground without a word, shot through the heart. The officer turned, and Paul found himself confronted both with a revolver

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THE TECH REVIEW 1930 62 The Romance of an Old Colonial Mansion By Helen E. Kinnccom, '30 It had been one of those warm, lazy days so typical of Alabama. Now at twi- light, when a cool breeze was beginning to stir softly among the trees, I sat idly on the veranda watching the various activities which were going on around me. The sun was setting in a mist of gold and ciimson glory. All about me lay the glamour and romance of the old South. Across the street some negroes were singing to the tum-tum-tum of the banjo; here and there an old colored mammy crooned a sleepy lul- laby, while in the treetops the drowsy birds chirped their good-night song. My glance fell next upon an old mansion, half hidden in a mass of shrubs, trees, and tangled vines. It presented a most irresistible as- pect of romance, and I could not resist the temptation to go over and sit in the shade of the big elm tree, which overshadowed the steps. I settled back dreamily, and closed my eyes. Down the street the ne- groes were still singing,— “O i Susannah, No tv don't you cry for me. I'se grvinc to Alabama IVif mah banjo on my knee. I started. Could that have been a voice? Soon it came again, softly. “Would you like to hear a story?” I stared about. I could see nothing but the white walls of the old mansion which rose but dimly in the fast fading twilight. Soon the voice spoke once more, gently, in- sistantly. And then, without waiting for an answer the old mansion began its story. “Long years ago, I was owned by a wealthy Southern planter named Clinton Sutherland. He had one daughter, a beau- tiful, dark-eyed girl, who was unlike the other women of that time, in that she was extremely bright and vivacious, instead of nonchalant and languid. She had one fault—she loved to flirt! It was a great relief to her parents when she finally became engaged to Jordan Lee, the son of a next door neighbor, and with whom Naomi had grown up from cradle days. Naomi’s parents approved of the short engagement preferred by Jordan, al- beit their reason was for fear that capricious Naomi might change her mind. The wed- ding date was set for June, two months after the engagement had been announced. 1 hen came the Civil War, bringing with it the call to arms, which stirred the hearts of every loyal son of both North and South to immediate response. Tramp! Tramp! Tramp! Early one morning in June, 1861, the measured tread of marching feet fell upon the ears of the bystanders. Every step brought with it fresh grief to the hearts of all those who watched. There were mothers, old and gray-haired, there were sobbing children who clung to their mothers’ skirts; the wives, the sweethearts, the sis- ters, all were there. For this was the call to arms! But in this crowd we fail to find Naomi Sutherland. No, she is at home, trying on a new dress to be worn at a party that night. What cares she if Jordan Lee has gone to war. There are others, and it is a relief to be free from the restrictions of an engagement. But the look that had been in Jordan’s eyes when he kissed her good-bye haunted her, and her eyes grew tender as she thought, for she was not altogether heartless—only frivolous and un- thinking. The preparations for the party, however, soon diverted her attention, and her lover was forgotten in the ensuing prob-

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( 4 THE TKCII REVIEW 1030 and the fact that he was under arrest as a prisoner of war. But even then his courage failed him not. He faced the officer with a triumphant smile. “Take me, if you will. I die—for Lin- coln and the Union!” At last the war was over, and by a miraculous turn of fate, Paul and Naomi were together again. They were married, and settled at the old Sutherland mansion where soon a son, Jordan Lee Stuart, came to bless their union. “And now I am nothing but an old de- serted mansion where romance has had its day, leaving nothing but memories—” I awoke with a start. It was growing dark. I gazed about me bewildered. But over on the roof of the school I could see the flag of the Union and the Confederacy flying—no longer two, but one. And as I looked up at the stars which dotted the heavens like beacons of light, the thought came to me that God’s in his Heaven, all’s right with the world.” Concerning College Hazing By James V. Rocl(s, ’3 In a short time seniors of Tech will be wending their way to some college, if they are fortunate enough to be able to attend one. I heir first days will be made miserable by upper-classmcn who probably were very fortunate in making the grade themselves. The ”freshies” are met by these students and are made to carry trunks to the rooms of the upper classmen, speak poetry, sing and dance in the downtown section of the city for the amusement of street corner loafers; they are taken by au- tomobile miles away from the city and, deprived of money, tied to a tree in the woods, or left lying flat on their backs in a ditch while the hazers ride back to the city for more freshmen. It is no con- cern of theirs how or when the student arrives home after a long walk. These are only a few of the many haz- ings experienced by freshmen. It is be- coming a main issue in some colleges to decide what measures can be taken against these ruffians. People have complained that they have been insulted on the streets by students. Principals of schools and owners of stores have complained when freshmen, who were being hazed, were led into their buildings and there has been a disturbance. Is anyone so foolish as to imagine that a freshman is enjoying himself after he has been pushing pencils up hills with his nose to the huge delight of spectators? Has a freshman respect or admiration for his tormentors after he has been through the ordeal? Or has he a deep sense of hatred and revenge for the upper-classmen? And how does the student feel who is a stranger to the state and does not know anyone, or understand where he is being taken? In some colleges hazing of freshmen is forbidden and any students who violate this law are subject to immediate expul- sion. Hazing is substituted by various types of amusement, such as flag rushes, football games, egg fights, etc. There is no ill feeling caused, as anything that hap- pens is done in a spirit of fun. When a freshman enters a college of this kind he is welcomed and not made to feel miserable and in the end the upper- classmen are admired and respected by the embryonic collegians.