Salem State University - Clipper Yearbook

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ASS, 1908 Cl. GRADUATING

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'Q .0 1 's 'O 0, N .e 4 f-1 2 . 5 f- 4 n

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A Modern Fairy Tale. ffldaptedfrom the meager notes taken in the reading classfj A heavy, damp fog had rolled in from the sea, enveloping the town in its gray darkness. Night closed in without a moon. As we walked or rather groped our way along, occasionally the dim rays from a street lamp straggled through the mist and re- vealed the way for a few steps before us. Then all was darkness again. Berne on the chilly night wind came the dreary, sullen roar of the breakers as they dashed on the near-by shore. We shivered, drew our coats closely about us and hastened on. Gradually the mist in front of us seemed to be illuminated with a weird light which, as we advanced, grew more and more intense. Suddenly we found ourselves before a huge archway resplendent with brilliant lights which formed, over the entrance, tl1e signiicant words, Quo Vadisf' Impelled by some unseen force, we drew nearer. At once the portal sprang open. We entered, and the great gate clanged behind. Before us stretched a broad panorama of strange buildings and towers. Peculiar sights and sounds greeted our bewildered senses. We hurried forward and in a moment would have entered the wonderful city. But, alas! we were startled and stopped by the sharp tones of a familiar voice calling us by name. There, craning her neck through the small aperture of an office window, was our old classmate, Marguerite Kelley. After we had answered numerous questions in regard to our ancestors, their birth, life. religion, habits, etc., and our own public and private affairs, she was evidently satisfied and gave us a passport into the Mystical City. We had ventured forward only a few steps when someone brushed us rudely aside, shouting, ff Get out of my Way! I'm running for the 7.167 When we recov- ered our equilibrium, we saw Dezzie rushing along, hair loose, belt in hand, shoes un- buttoned, and coat flying. ff We might have known? We followed closely behind and caught up just in time to see her throw herself and belongings into an airship. Evidently someone else besides ourselves had arrived too late. Standing on the land- ing, with her arms outstretched and her eyes gazing upward in a most beseeching man- ner, was Ethel Crocker. ff Why, Crocky, what can be the matter? we volunteered sympathetically. In answer, she pointed despairingly to the slowly receding airship. f' Can it be that he has taken to the air? I asked. Why, sure enough, there he is at the gea1'. Poor Chapman l Uncertain as to what would happen next, but prepared for the worst, we started on again. As we turned a corner, we were confronted by someone who extended to- ward us a small collection box bearing the inscription, 4' Foreign Missionsf, Thought- lessly dropping in one small coin, we continued on our way. Forced to glance back by hearing our names spoken, whom should we see following us but Millie Isaac with her little box. 4' You might at least have recognized me, she said. Apologizing for our oversight, we stopped to inquire what was to become of the small coin we had sac- rificed. ff Oh, she replied, this money is to be sent to Sister Alley, who is doing noble missionary work in the wilds of Africa. At once interested, we loosened our purse strings and graciously filled the box. At this point our interview was out short 21