Washington Seminary - Facts and Fancies Yearbook (Atlanta, GA)

Page 113 text:

f , -flfai rf lf Xiflgf ff 1,1 l ,f X i - ..,1 WI - .QNX f Ar pq F U fiifewon0Xeizf EVER Too LATE fe K fThird Place in the short story can fesf 5 X EEEE L jk f l E yy i j , Ss, , ,ef C1 l 2221. Margaret Gates lay still in the bed where she had lain for many months. She had regained consciousness for the first time in several weeks. A physician and two nurses stood by the bed watching the gaunt figure in the heir-loom four-poster as the life she had so beautifully lived for others slowly ebbed away. They silently waited for some last word or wish to issue from her lips, but no word came. Margaret Gates realized there was no earthly future for her, and, knowing this, she desired to lie quietlv and during her few remaining hours live in the past. She was seemingly unaware of the at- tendants, as she gazed intently at a pho- tograph which was ever present at her bedside. It was the photograph of a young man, a young man whose eyes sparkled with humor, whose mouth was kind but Hrm and whose face showed in every fea- ture the sheer joy of being alive. It was to this face she turned her eyes, for it was John, her nephew, who alone had aided her to become the woman she had dreamed of being as a girl. As she looked at the picture, she turned back the pages of her memory thirty-four years to the night that had been the cli- max of her life. Margaret had been an orphan of wealthy parents. She had ignored the existence of relatives other than her sister, Eleanor, and her sister's four children. She was then twenty and had lived the last few years of her life in her own free way, throwing conven- tions to the wind, laughing at the shocked glances and smothered whispers which always followed her entrance wherever she happened to go. She was not happy. If she stopped to think, she would, disgusted and dis- illusioned, go to the home of her sister and revel in the innocence of the chil- dren. So loving and tender was she with them that they adopted for her the name Pretty Lady. It was the realization of the children's devotion to Margaret that sent Eleanor to her in an effort to make her abandon the wild life she was lead- ing. Margaret had only said, 'Tm sorry, Eleanor, there are so many things lid like to do differently, but it's too late now.', Only two weeks after Margaret's twenty-second birthday, she had been called to the bedside of her sister, whose body had been wretchcdly broken in an accident. Eleanor had turned suffering eyes to Margaret and recalling her child- hood name for her had said, I'm going soon, Peg. I can't take the children. It . . . happened suddenly. No . . . ar- rangements . . . Be good . . . to them, Peg ,... and love them. Margaret had not left the children except for dire necessity since her sister's death. In adapting herself to their moods, de- sires and atmosphere, gentle and comfort- ing, she had forgotten the hard, sophis- ticated circle of her friends until the en- trance of Jim Markly, a worthless cad who had been a most important figure in her past days. His very presence in the room of her new environment seemed sacrilegious to her.

Page 112 text:

and live for just a few years until he shall come of age and perhaps make something of his thwarted youth. His request is granted. He lives, only to fall in love with a woman of questionable morals and to die again, disillusioned and reconciled to his fate. The settings of this play are exquisite in every detail. Mrs. Scott does not make a practice of reviewing musical plays but because of the popularity of the song Smoke Gets In Your Eyes, she mentioned Roberta. The music is by Jerome Kern and the play from a novel by Alice Duer Miller. The play is really a gown-maker's holi- day. Men In Wlvifr, by Sidney Kingsley, is without doubt one of the finest plays of the season. It is so far the only play to present actually on the stage an operat- ing room complete in every detail. It deals with the heroism and self-sacrifice of members of the- medical profession and has for its theme the selfishness of a rich girl who insists that her fiance, a young interne, be at her beck and call at every moment, despite his duties at the hospital. The topic is sordid but well done. Then come plays having elements of propaganda in them. First among these is They Shall Nof Die, the story of the Scottsboro case. The people of the north seem to regard it more as a problem play of justice than as a racial problem. It is harrowing, but magnificently done. Peafr' on Earth is a production of a new theater group called the Theatre Union, who say they are establishing a theatre for the working class. The Union is located at present in Eva LeGalliene's old theatre. Their first play deals with ship-loaders who, on discovering soap boxes full of ammunition in the cargo, strike. The play is well presented and the crowd seems skillfully handled. Some consider the union a hotbed of communism. Its activities will be watched with interest. In closing, Mrs. Scott swayed her audience with a review of a second play by Mordaunt Sharp in which rampant humor gives way in the end to pathos, quiet pathos but all the more compelling. The Crime Thu! Blofssmned is up to the very last raucuously sensational, tragedy commercialized. Then suddenly appears the unoffending victim of the venture who impersonally, without bitterness, discloses the terrible consequences of such morbid gloating over crime. There are waters blown by changing winds to laughter And lit by the red skies all day, and after. Frost with a gesture stays the waves that dance, And wandering loveliness. He leaves a white Unbroken glory, a gathered radiance, A width, a shining place, under the night. With these lines from Rupert Brooke's The Dead, Mrs. Scott concluded one of the most enjoyable events that has ever occurred in Washington Seminary audi- torium. TO A FRIEND To you, my friend, God has given to you The gift of knowing What is right to do. No harshness, no ugliness Can ever come near So brave a smile As yours, my dear! -Virginia Toombs.

Page 114 text:

It was the recollection of this incident and the following ones that were closing the last chapter of Margaret's life. She remembered so clearly Jim's reaction to her refusal to return to her old life. He had scoffed at her and insulted her by saying, After all, Margaret, isn't it a little ridiculous-a woman of your-. She hadn't allowed him to Hnish. 'fYou,ve said enough, Jim, please leave me, she had commanded. He had left and not until he had gone had Margaret permitted the tears to run freely down her cheeks. Johnny, the youngest child, had crept in and, putting a comforting hand on hers, had said, Don't cry, Petrry Lady, I'll never leave you if you'll only smilef' She had smiled then and many times after that when she had wanted to cry, but only for Johnny's sake. She loved the other children but it was Johnny she adored. She had lived for them alone, neither making new friends nor return- ing to her old ones. She asked nothing of life except happiness for them. As the years slipped by, they grew into splendid men and women, going gradually into lives of their own, that is, all except Johnny. He had been content and happy in the comradeship of Margaret and scien- tific research. He had left only a year ago for South America where he was in- volved in daring investigation. His letters were frequent and he often sent quaint little gifts from out-of-the-way shops. She knew they had not given her the let- ters from him for fear of exciting her. She knew now that excitement would not matter. I-Ier thoughts were voiced and a startled nurse ran to do her bidding. She returned soon and Margaret selected the WINTER The sky in the West is crimson and gold Behind the barren trees And the winds are biting and bitter cold, Roaring, as angry seas. The shadows are lengthening, gruesome and grey, Making the world unreal, Distorting their features out over the bay As cold as frosty steel. latest one. Tears filled those failing eyes as she read, My dearest Pretty Lady: 'tToday is the day of the final and most dangerous experiment. After it, I'll soon be home with you and we can . . .H She read no further. She had not al- lowed word of her illness to be sent to him for fear of disturbing his work. Now she realized there would be no i'Pretty Ladyn when he returned. Her thoughts were interrupted as a maid entered bringing her a letter. It was from South America, but the writing was strange. She sum- moned her remaining strength to open it. It was from Johnny's instructor sympa- rhetically and tactfully informing her of Johnny's courageous death. He wrote that his last words had been, Write to Pretty Lady, but tell her to smilef' For once she did not smile. Instead, she turned her eyes to heaven and silently prayed, Dear God, He is there with you now. I haven't been worthy always but he believed in me. It was his belief that led me to you in happiness or distress. I ask now, dear Father, that, if I wasn't too late in starting, I may come to you and Johnny now? As the tired old heart was beating its last, she visualized an angel of beauty standing with outstretched arms beside her bed saying, Come, my child, God is good. He forgiveth all sins. The nurse stepped to the bedside, not realizing the happiness with which that soul had gone to its eternal resting place. DUSK The hush of life falls over all Except for the blasting breeze As the sun sinks low, a fiery ball, Leaving last rays, to freeze. The sun drops low, the crimson dies, The gold has left my sight, The small bat swoops and flopping flies, The symbol of winter night. -Elizabvlfa Trz'sz'zll'r.