Union College - Stespean Yearbook (Barbourville, KY)

Page 27 text:

THE STESPEAN 21 au i i inn inn J ,:,. ' ....:■.■ i n lira m i limn irnr : iiiiiiiinimill REEDA FISH Life without laughing would be a dreai-y blank. Fishie is patient, plodding .nd per- sistent, steadfast and sincere, but you must not think from that that she isn ' t a jolly good sport, full of fun and mischief too, for she is. We see her in the future in the Mission field wrapped up in her life wo rk, but she never will be too busy to play a game of rook. REV. O. W. MILLER I dare do all that may become a man Who dares do more is none. Mr. Miller comes to us from Cincinnati after studying law in Denver, graduating at Cincinnati University. He is our preach- er, philosopher and all round Senior. Altho Mrs. Miller says he is a very peculiar man, we have found that his peculiarities are commendable and fit in nicely with our student life. He is fine in every sense of the word; he stands for everything good and worth while; he even likes a good joke. His very presence challenges the best in his associates. In A ' s he shines, but in A- pluses he leads. Not only a new member was added to our Senior Class, but new strength in the Reverend Oscar W. Miller.

Page 26 text:

20 THE STESPEAN i:iiiiiiiiiiiiii:ui::ii. : : minimi mi : ALLEN D. TUGGLE He needs no one to speak for him — he speaks for himself. Bear has been away from us this year in medical college; altho away from us in person, he has been with us in spirit and so much so that he gets his A. B. along with the other five Sen iors. SARAH KELLEY Silence is one great art of conversation. Tay is one of those quiet, unob- trusive souls that you yearn to know, and when you do to know her is to love her. She goes about her work in that slow, dig- nified manner, and she always accomplishes what she sets out to do. Her worth wins hearts and her constancy keeps them. .

Page 28 text:

22 THE STESPEAN miililliiillil i ■■ ' ■:: -i limn in: . : 11111:11 SENIOR PROPHESY Inhambone, Portuguese East Africa, May 30, 1933. Dear Thelma : Ten years ago tonight — are you, too, thinking of it? — our commence- ment at old U. C, and to think you are the only one with whom I am in touch. I had an experience this afternoon which was a delicious treat for me, and about which I am going to tell you. I had been working faithfully all afternoon, on a project for my girls, when suddenly I realized I was in dire need of recreation. In a short time I was out in the cool of the evening, for it was almost sundown, and off for a hike over thru the neighboring kraal. I had been walking for half an hour when I came to the hut of an old crone, whom I sometimes visit. I crept in thru the door and found her busily stirring something in her big kettle, and humming weird incanta- tions. Immediately, I lealized it would not do to retrace my steps; in fact. I thought it an interesting situation. I seated myself on a pile of dried grass on one side of the room to see what she would do next. Not once did she look in my direction, but kept up her singing in that monotonous tone. Soon I began to tire of my posi- tion and started to rise. But when I did so, I was no longer in the hovel on this lonely kraal, but in your lovely little home in Corbin. You were preparing dinner and telling me all about your married life, how happy you and Bob were ; that it was so different from the dreams of your school days, and much happier. I arose from my chair to go into the next room, but suddenly found myself in a large auditorium, and none other than our beloved Tay sitting at the great organ. I sat entranced as her melodies pealed forth, and I heard it whispered around me that her fame was spreading, and that she was leaving in the fall for foreign parts. I remained to speak with her after the crowd had gone. I saw the same old smile coming toward me. I thought again of the long ago. Oh, Thel, Sarah looked beautiful ! As I reached to take her hand, I was no longer in the great auditorium, but in a doctor ' s office, in Buenos Aires, and none other than Dr. Tuggle, our former Bear was clasping my hand. He had been there three years, and was well established in his work. He invited me to go home with him and as we stepped into the car, it was suddenly transformed into a large church in New York. The preacher was none other than our former philosopher. Rev. 0. W. Miller. He had taken his Ph. D. at Columbia, had recovered his health and was now, where he longed to be. I congratulated him on his success. We went out of the church and getting into his car started for his home. Of course our conversation drifted to the class of ' 23; he had just received a letter from our former president, Francis, who was at the head of the Department of Education in Vanderbilt Uni- versity, and had a beautiful little home in the suburbs of the city. We were both silent for a few minutes, and I began to hear peculiar noises, which increased as we sped on our way. I began to wonder what it could be and turned to ask him. Alas ! I was no longer in the car, but on the pile of grass in the little hut. It was some seconds before I could take in my surroundings after such an experience. The old crone was still by her pot, but her singing had ceased. She gave me one of her smiles, and I thanked her for what she had done. I talked to her a few minutes and then I made my way back to my room to think once again about home. I expect to take my furlough in six months and then probably part of my vision will come true. With heaps of love, Reeda. KiiiiiniiiiiiiNiiiiii i:::n ■ aniiii!:: 1:1 n ' ■ ., : : : . : iiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiuiiiiinit