Sullins College - Sampler Yearbook (Bristol, VA)

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Cantino and shixered during the Molle Mystery I heater. It was a full day, but there was so much to talk about even yet. Those after-dark sessions were fun. We talked about everything from what’s to become of the world to what we’re going to wear home our next holiday — and, of course, the subject of him. But soon it was “G’nite, roommate. See you in the morning. The Year Begins Remember the first day? Let’s see, it was Septem- ber sixteenth. Sullins was in her glory that day. We sat on the edges of our seats as we started up the drive. The cab drivers were a little glum thinking of those millions of suitcases they were going to have to carry up the steps. But not us . . . “My word, look at the library building — have you ever seen anything so lovely? I can’t wait to see in- side. ” Then, all at once, rounding the last curve we saw her— “It’s good to be back. Some of the other seniors met us on the steps, and such squealing you’ve never heard! Then we were being pushed into the bustle, finding our rooms and waiting for roommates. We old girls felt like the big seniors we were and tried to tell the bewildered juniors everything we knew about everything. We tried to cover everything on the campus that first day — the old favorites first. The Hut — “Aren’t we proud of our new soda fountain? The juke is readv for business. You know, I think Near You by Francis Craig is going to be right up there.” The Post Office— Goodness, our box numbers are posted already. Look, 1 have a letter. Somebody loves me. The Stables— “Dr. Martin hasn’t let us down. Our old favorites are back and some handsome new ones. The Iloofprints Club looks good!” Now, on to the library. “The reading room is luscious— I just have to try one of those deep red- leather chairs. Have you ever seen a more realistic portrait than that of Dr. Martin?” But the day had to end, and as we crawled into bed that night, grinning at our roommates, it was good to have Mrs. Jones come in and say, Good night, young ladies.” A Busy Week-End That whole first week was a bustle. Classes began on Thursday the eighteenth, and that night we had the Hut Party. The flora-dora girls were a big hit, and so was B. J. Cason’s latest song, “Uh-huh.” But the day wasn ' t quite oxer yet. Our first serenade be- tween Senior and Junior Halls — then “Good night, aches ” and off fo bed we went. Lake Day the twentieth was a big event— horse back riding and Dr. Martin as proud as a peacock of his girls and his horses. Swimming and the big soft ball game— the seniors beat the juniors. But, oh me, the faculty beat the seniors! Our first Sunday at Sullins we all went together to the State Street Methodist Church to hear Dr. W. F. Blaekard’s sermon, “The Faultfinder.” In the afternoon each senior called for her little sisters, and we went clown the front steps to the Martin’s home. It was the first time that we really

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“The happiest years of our lives.” You know, thinking back, just kind of rambling through the days we’ve all had together, I’m just beginning to think our folks are right. Surely, though, they couldn’t know quite how wonderful our year at Sullins has been. I’ll never forget all the little things — like hearing the cheery “Good morning, everyone” from the Alarm Clock Club while I sleepily dressed to make it to breakfast. I never did hear that seven o’clock bell! We seniors had a rule about chapel— never to go until at least three minutes after the bell had rung. We had to go to classes for some reason. Mr. Ingram hasn’t talked about “When I was in France” this year— I wonder why. Miss Watkins still talks about her “chappies” though, and Miss Guthrie has us wondering about “the psychology of the thing.” In the morning the Post Office was very popular. Mrs. Zach did her best to fill our boxes — even if she had to put in a card saying, “A free drink of yonr own choice at King’s Department Store.” We drifted into the Hut either dreamily or angrily determined to drown our sorrows in cokes; and we left carrying bags of lolly-pops and bubble gum. “There’s a good show in town — let’s go.” “Well I shouldn’t, but okay.” We chewed our pop-corn, and afterwards stopped at Jack Trayer’s for a hamburger, or at Bassett’s for a malt, or the Snack Shack for an Orange Julius. No wonder supper didn’t taste quite as good as usual. Thursday night, though, we saved room for chicken— or sometimes we splurged and had dinner down-town. We’ll never forget that hour after dinner. We played bridge or told the merits of the north— or the south. You know, I think we’ve done a good job of getting rid of the Mason- Dixon Line. We listened to the Supper Club and got all tangled up in our knitting, or we wrote that important letter. Then, study hall. The library building was a per- fect place to study if we didn’t happen to have to wash our hair or clothes or something. I’ll never forget how Mrs. Jones al- ways seemed to catch Dot just as she ducked into our room to tell us something so important. Ten o’clock, and the lights would go out. I guess hot plates are a little hard on electricity, aren’t they? We had wonderful messes though, everything from tea to artichokes. We crossed our fingers for Dick Page 7

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became conscious of the “New Look.” The tea really was lovely, and we were happy to meet the faculty members. The day of Senior Open House, the twenty-sixth, everyone cleaned with a fury and put on all the little finishing touches. Remember how we hid the mops and buckets on the fire escapes and tried to hide the paint brushes and scraps of crepe paper? Evening came, and we welcomed our visitors. Red seemed to be a good color this year. Remember Dot and B. J.’s animals and Bobbie and Alcece’s flowers? Judy and Smitty’s blue room was a big success too. The juniors serenaded us to say “Good night .” A good ending to a good day. “Bury that Smile” “I love the seniors” — “Bury that smile”— “Do you turn your back on a senior” — “Squeak like a rat” — “Fry like bacon”— “Scramble like eggs.” Oh, the fun of Rat Week. The month of goblins and spooks got a good start. Remember Rat Bryan’s soulful twang as she sang, “You came, I was alone”? And oh, how we seniors cheered at Shortie Hamilton’s poem to the seniors. Then on Saturday the junior rats crawled slowly to the Hut for the trial— Rat Court. The charges were made, witnesses called, and verdicts given. “Our buddies, our pals, those wonderful gals.” Whew, it was good to smile again! Now 1 could be myself, not Miss So-and-So.” The juniors look right pretty in make-up without those millions of pig-tails. That night Senior Hall was overflowing with girls, food, and fun. Halls were turned into dance floors, and remember how we all tried “Put your little foot”? Those toasted sandwiches were delicious! Just think what a good cook each of ns will make some lucky man. The Seniors entertain the Juniors at meet the faculty. The next evening, the fifth, we moved the silver services into senior dining room and put on our best formals and manners. It was for the senior recep- tion. It was so lovely! Those little sandwiches and cookies were delicious, thanks to the Home Ec De- partment. The dishes were very pretty— poor Sara, she washed them nearly all night Saturday. I’ll bet she never wants to see a flowered plate again as long as she lives. Midnight Alarm The evening of the twelfth found most of us sleeping peacefully when all of a sudden three sharp peals of the bell knocked us out of bed. Roommates blinked at each other and reached for coats and towels. It seems there was something else 1 was supposed to do— oh, yes, the windows and lights. Do I turn the windows off and put the lights down, or what? Oh, me, I’m so sleepy!” A few clashed into the hall with flashlights and cards. Ilnmmnn, 1 wonder. Were we sleeping peace- fully? Anyway, Sullins wasn’t on fire; so we climbed wearily back into beck Miss Liles and Miss Stowe must not have been too well pleased with us, because the next night, just as I was ready to step into a nice warm tub of water, the bells rang again. My suite-mates pushed the hot plate under the bed, and we ran! I think we made it in two minutes. Anyway, the water wasn’t quite cold when I came back. On October sixteenth we made a journey to Martin Hall to see the juniors’ rooms. Such cute ideas! We were so proud when we saw that Marge and Bonnie had painted our names on their E-Z-Dos. Some of the dolls were just darling. I love the one Joan Negley had — it reminded me of a lovable little pig. We looked silly carrying a bowl home with us with a gold fish in it, but it was fun being told that, be- cause we were the twentieth pair to enter the room, we would receive a door prize.