Richmond Womans College - Puffs and Patches Yearbook (Richmond, VA)

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Senior Class Prophecy , . even I the unworthy, had been elected prophet of the class of IQI3. In order to predict their futures, I traveled to all countries and dipped into magic and science, but all in vain. At last tired and despondent, I took a walk in a cool, green forest. I walked slowly along, my head bent low in deep thought when suddenly a marvelously sweet voice broke upon the still- ness 2' Follow the white dove and your search shall be ended. A snowy bird Huttered from the trees and flew before me. It led me on and on till Hnally the forest stopped abruptly and I found myself in a wonderful garden. The air was permeated with an exquisite perfume, under my feet was spread a carpet of violetsg' 'among the trees, whose leaves glistened like jewels, were birds of brilliant plumage. In the centre of the garden was a fountain with diamond-like spray. As I approached it, a beautiful girl with gleaming, flowing hair handed. me a golden 'goblet filled with an amber-colored Huid, saying: This is the water of the magic fountain, drink, and in the spray you will see pictured the future of your classmates. ' V ,As the wine spread through my veins, my brain seemed cleared of all im- perfections, my senses were sharpened instead of deadened. I . I looked into the spray and saw vague shapes which gradually cleared and formed into a large building, surrounded by wide lawns. On the campus, in groups, are many girls. A group of older women are leisurely passing up and down thewalks. In the centre of this group is a strangely familiar figure. Something in the small stature and sweet face remind me of my- college days. She turns toward one of the groups and I recognize our beloved president, Lautina VVilliams. I gather from her air of ownership that she has been made president of the New VVoman's College. I now see the ladies with her more clearly. One is Mary Currin, who is teaching Latin, another is Louise Tillman who has been awarded the chair of Philosophy, and the third is Alice Hatcher, who is Professor of Mathematics. From their bright faces, I know that they are happy in their chosen occupations. . The college fades and the white walls of a hospital come in its place. Among the rows of tiny cots a blue-uniformed nurse is slowly moving. At each cot she stops to rearrange the sick one's pillows and give the sufferer some word of cheer. As she .moves on, the patient's eyes follow her and for a moment the pain is forgotten. As she reaches the last cot' the fever-parched lips of a boy beg for . 42 7 A Y Y Y YA ,A ceasxii- f-------i-aiA --V-A-f+--H ---mv-'Win

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7. I X5 I I J I l Q , 3 TE I E I 1 ' . x. N , l I A I i' il ll., ' l 3 nl. ' 5 Y , l' , N .3 ii ip, 5 I I ss E' ?fi , y E j I i ' QW la- - + -I ' ' ' a- ea aala : .g .... l,. ...., ,,,' ,,,,,, .ws 'mf 'RA' . i ' . 1912 Elizabeth Purnphrey Wicker, B.1Vl. Lily Bell Quarles, B.S. RICHMOND, VIRGINIA ELLERSON, VIRGINIA When she had passed, it seemed like the ceasing of exquisite music. Elizabeth is one of our chief vocal stars. She was originally a Yankee, having come from Massachusetts to the beautiful and historic Richmond, which is still the rich possessor of this wonderfully talented speci- men of humanity. Nature has endowed her with many of her richest gifts, the most noted being her voice, which is soft and low, and she is all the world to us. Chief Recommendation: Her voice. Chief Characteristic: Suggestivity. Delta Alpha Sigma Sorority, Philomathean 41 I never knew so young a body with so old a head. Lily is last, but not least, of the Trium- virate. Each morning, through rain and storm, she comes from the country to Rich- mond. It shows a great longing for education to rise from the sweet dreams and rush off to catch the train. Especially, when she always knows her lessons. Lily Bell is rather shy, but when you once know her you love her. . Chief Recommendation: Earnest desire for knowledge. Chief Characteristic: Studying.

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water. She deftly slips her arm beneath his head, and. as she does this, I find myself looking deep into the brave, bright eyes of our vice-president. Rose Bloxom. From a small studio, plainly but artistically furnished, comes the most ex- quisite tones of music. l see a woman bending over the keys, whose expression is one of rapt devotion to her art. She seems utterly unconscious of her sur- roundings. Piles of unfinished music lie on the desk. She has already won fame as a composer, but this will be the song of her soul. Finally, the last bar is played, with a sigh she turns. It is Margaret James. The winter sunshine streams into a sitting-roo1n. The place has an air of tranquility and comfort, the furniture is for comfort and the open hre throws a cheerful glow over the occupants of the room. An old gentleman is reclining in one of the low chairs and on a stool at his feet a slender, golden-haired-woman sits reading aloud to him. The sunlight kisses her bright hair, making a halo around her raised face. It was Jessie Jarvis. She is staying at home, -making her parents' lives happy with the richness and fullness of her love. I see a big, old-fashioned house standing back from the road. A buggy drives up and from it steps a tall woman. just as she reaches the front steps the door is opened and I hear a familiar voice, So you're back, Sallie, come on in, supper is just on the tablef' . - A Soon as I wash my hands, Nell? A It was Sallie Adams and Nell Livesay, who have realized their dream of keeping bachelors hall together. - , In the spray a picture of rare tropical beauty grows. It seems a plantation on one of theafar southern islands. The roomy frame house is surrounded by rows of orange trees. The air is heavy with the scent of the blossoms, and among the foliage the oranges gleam like balls of fire. Two l'13.1U1l1OCkS are swung under the trees and in them are two ladies, reading and sipping from tall glasses some cool drink. The faces come into better view and I see Mamie Addison and Merle Vlfesterman. After teaching for a few years, they bought a planta- tion and are now thoroughly enjoying a life of ease. A fair-haired woman is bending over a desk littered with books and maga- zines, busily writing. I know at once it is Bernie Bruce. I-Ier stories are talked of all-over America. On her desk is a book of poems, the author's name seems familiar even at a distance, as I look closer I see f'Lena Winn. An article in one of the magazines speaks of her as one of the cleverest and most original poets of the day. j . - . ' In a large room, lined with rows and rows of books, I see 1nany people. Some are seated at the tables reading and some are strolling about. Plainly itis a library. I glance casually at the desk and am surprised and pleased to find in the librarian an old schoolmate, Hazel Cole. ' 43