North Carolina College for Women.

Pine needles (Volume 1920) online

. (page 4 of 9)
Online LibraryNorth Carolina College for WomenPine needles (Volume 1920) → online text (page 4 of 9)
Font size
QR-code for this ebook


Carrie Duffy Wooten, A.B

"The fashion wears out
Adelphian; Proctor. Spring 'IS; Fire I.icu



Ma



Kinston, N. C.



When our '20's want to boast of their good looks and style, they calmly point out Carrie Duffy, for in
her both are exemplified. Carrie Duffy has one very strong point in favor of her teaching, namely,
getting other people to do things — even to getting up before "prep" and rehearsing plays. Many occasions
have brought Carrie Duffy to the front, and we have been shown that our class has a real treasure. Until
this year we had not known she was such a jewel. Most of her old friends left her in the Class of
'19, and now she is our very own. She has proved herself worthy of being a real friend and a real
Lavender and White Class member. Here's to Duff!



Elsie Yarborough, B.S.



Cary, N. C.



"Zealous yet modest, innocent though free.
Patient of toil, serene amid alarms."

Dikean Proctor. '16-17 : Secretary Athletic Association, '17-'1S; Class Cheer Leader;
Basketball Irani I Sophomore I : .society Debater; charter Member of the Dikean
Society; Societj Treasurer, '18-"19; Junior Hockey Team. '19-'20; Society President.
Fall '19; tnter-Society Conference Committee, '19-'D0; Tennis Team. '19.

If you have come to Elsie you are near the end of the Senior pictures in this annual, for she is actin
in her usual capacity — rear guard of the Home Economics Class. Probably it is the practical applica
tion of the inexhaustible "A. C. D. order" to everyday affairs. When she gives us her infectious smil
and reveals her latest plan, backed up by good, strong argument, the secret of Elsie's success in clas:
fociety, and a thousand and one committees is out. Add to this that she is a good sport and a frien.
lo us all. and you know Elsie. We have her word for it that she is not going to teach, but we knoi
that whatever she does she will "major" in it, and have a good time while she's doing it.



Page seventy-nine




SENIOR CLASS STATISTICS



Page eighty




es



SENIOR CLASS STATISTICS



Page eighty-




History of the Class of 1920

Part I

HERE were only three hundred and twenty-nine of us who were enrolled as Freshmen

that fall — September, 1916. We were the largest class that had ever been at the college—

the upper-classmen have said that we were also the "greenest" Freshmen

the college r

earning each other and the col-
lege. After we had spent about six
weeks trying to accomplish this, we
turned our attention to the task of or-
ganizing our class. For this purpose
we met with Mr. Forney in the
"Chapel of Curry Building." elected a
temporary chairman, accepted our con-
stitution, and elected our first officers.
Willard Goforth was elected President.
Soon we were announcing meetings
and calling meetings as regularly as the
other classes. There was much to be
done and we were very busy. One
the meetings we enjoyed most of all
Lindley, first met with us. We were so happy that
class meeting, and this is how we looked!
stronger than ever. We soon elected second-half
as the examinations were over, we went to work
ked faithfully and were rewarded in this wise: We
gained quite a few honors on Field Day, and we




ill was the one

that we had our piclu
the Christmas holidays o
md Lois Wilson was Pre:
athletic trophy for our
came out second in the hocked
engraved "1920" on the basketball cup.

Socially we fared royally that first year. First came initiation with all its mystery and with its
banquets. Then the Y. W. C. A. entertained us, and we had thought such affairs were over when
invitations came from the Sophomores inviting us to the Court of Night. Here the witches and fairies
kept us charmed until a late hour. All the year our "big sisters," the Juniors, had always been ready
to help us, advise us, and play with us. To try to show them how much we liked being adopted and
how much we appreciated their kindness, we look them to the park with us for an Easter egg hunt.
We found then that they were not so "grown-up," after all, for we saw that they could still enjoy
finding and eating candy eggs.

Part II



The first thing we noticed when we came back as
of our original number. We now numbered only abc
from watching the new girls and "seeing ourselves as
was to elect our first-half Sophomore off
guidance we began our preparations for th
a camp supper in Lindley Park. After
camp supper came. After several hours c



:ers. Nell
Sophomori
nuch busy
owded full
find that the street cars could not run! Nothing daunted,
proved, after all, as much fun as anything. Even though
we never let the Juniors and Seniors know it.



Sophomores in 1917 was that we had lost many
ut one hundred and ten. We got much pleasure
others had seen us." Our first business that fall
: Bardin was elected President, and under her
■-Freshman entertainment. Our plan was to have
work and many call meetings, the night for the
of fun and enjoyment, we started home, only to
Iked home. This part of the program
re tired when we reached the college.



Page eighty-two



Until

Bui we i



one but the Seniors and Juni

been more studious than oil

allowed the use of the library




es



had been allowed lo work in the
Sophomore classes, for we began lo v
night. We succeeded, and the libraria



class meetings there thoj

but our cla
elected Pa'.



wards that

first nights.

After Christmas we
tine for several week:
work went on. W«
Jordan second-half President, and with
Patte leading, we accomplished many
things. We were beginning lo think
and talk much of the war. The
Sophomores entered heartily into all
war work the student body was asked
to do, from giving money to the War
Work campaign to making a layette
for a French baby. In fact, for sev-
eral weeks that spring the Sophomores led the olh'



But one of the most enjoyable event
Dr. Foust gave us a place for it near
one Saturday afternoon, armed with ho
the bed. We had much fun and had c



From the very beginning of our Junior

Willie John Medlock was elected Chairrr

Marguerite Jenkins was elected Presid.

class and other work — with a will. By thi




the whole year for
infirmary. We sent home fo
rakes, hand plows, and othe
pictures made.

Part III



year the
an. and



she had the



r violet bed.
olet plants, and met there
;cessary implements to fix



talked about
unch room in



the fi

th,



the fall of 1918, and we went at our work— both

e had come to know each other better. Our family

now, for we had about three hundred "lillle sisters" this fall. We were quite busy

'eeks becoming acquainted with our new sisters, getting the lunch room in order, and doing

things that fell lo our lot as Juniors. When we had reached the campus we found that

wealers, which we had ordered the spring before, had arrived. No one, except those who

their own new class sweaters, can know with what pride we wore them. Cold weather could

ion enough for the Juniors then!

n came the influenza epidemic. Although we were very fortunate and had no serious trouble

with influenza, this was made possible
only because we observed the strictest
quarantine practically the entire winter.
Because of the war, all social functions
were done away with this year, and
the Juniors might have found college
life rather dull had it not been for the
epidemic and the lunch room. Soon
the infirmary was unable to hold the
girls who were suffering with "cold in
the head"— as the official announce-
ments stated— and Guilford Hall sec-
ond floor was turned into an infirmary.
And here's where the Juniors and their




Page eighl\/-lhree




Irusty truck, "Juny," came

sick in Guilford, and three

What if it was hard work,

We were still in quara.



each day the Juniors and "Juny"

s lots of fun, too!

after Christmas. Mary Benton \



i into a supply station for the
trays to the girls in Guilford.



elected second-half Fresident,



Nelle Fleming second-half Lunch Room Chairman. About this lime our rings came, but we could not
wear them until we were Seniors, so we kept them carefully put away in our rooms. It was this spring
that we experienced one of the biggest disappointments of our entire college course. The War Work
campaign was put on again, and we decided to give up our plans for the Junior-Senior banquet in order
to help make the campaign a complete success at the college. Our disappointment was not so great, how-
ever, when we found that by not having the banquet we could increase the war fund by three hundred and
fifty dollars.

Part IV

It took us quite a while when we came back in the fall of 1919 to become accustomed to being
called Seniors. But our class rings helped us out here. There were now eighty-four of us, and in a
few weeks we were wearing our Senior rings and carrying Senior dignity as if we had been Seniors
several years, rather than several weeks. Sybil Barrington was selected President for the fall term,
and Rouss Hayes was chosen Editor-in-Chief of the annual. And the annual was what kept us so
busy that we did not have lime to miss the lunch room
very much. It was the annual that we were interested in
now. And this interest grew even more intense as time
went on and Mrs. Wooten came to take the pictures. Then
it was that the under-classmen were startled to see Seniors,
wearing evening dresses, going at any and all limes of the
day • toward New Dormitory.

Another thought which was uppermost in the minds of
all the Juniors throughout the year was, "How will I look
in my cap and gown?" Then it was that the short Seniors
wished they were tail, and the fat Seniors wished they were
slender, for everyone knew that it was Elsie Swindell's
type that could best wear a cap and gown. But many of
our fears were groundless, for here's the way we looked.

We have given you here our history in brief from
September, 1916, to June, 1920. Perhaps you think we
have been an unusual class. We ihink so, and our list of
Senior privileges, which provide for almost anything from
"chaperoning under-classmen off the campus, ' to "going to
the theater with young men," seems to point to the same
thing.

We have had joys and have had sorrows; there have
been both smiles and tears; but we have been happy. We
are taking away with us possessions which we deem priceless. We have formed friendships which
will last forever. And we'll never forget to sing: "1920, we're a loyal band, working all together
with a steadfast aim."




Page eighty-four




"Tis eventide; the sun sinks low

And again for this last lime
Spills its gold and lets it flow

Through the tops of the di-
Deepening shadows spread o'er

As if by affinity,
Closer, closer together drawn,

Rob us of identity.



'Tis evening; (he night has come,

But, still, 'tis not all dark;
The stars are shining, and the moc

Chases the shades in the park.
The sun has set — that is true —

But it will rise again
And bring a day bright and new

With more goals to attain.



'Tis evening; the day is done;

Our college hours are past.
The minutes beat out one by one,

"This is the last; this is the last."
The farewells spoken here and there

Like empty echoes die away.
No words suffice on lip or scroll

To say what we would say.



Our college days have come and gone.

But Alma Mater is with us yet.
Her dear old halls and walks and parks

We never can forget.
She is ours — and we are hers —

We two shall never part.
We leave ourselves with her and take

All of her in our heart.



Confessions of a Dope Fiend




|NE night I was worn and weary as I sat at my table studying, studying,
ever studying, as the timepiece in the corridor slowly and painfully ticked
off the "wee sraa' hours," and the midnight oil in my lamp burned lower
and lower. The dismal wind outside howled and moaned and sighed and
^SI groaned, again and again, as it swept about the building, sometimes rocking
it in its fitful rage. No one will ever know just how badly my head throbbed, for too
long had I labored fruitlessly; O classmates, too long had I endured my sufferings. At
last I could bear it no longer. I thrust my hands through my hair, slung my books on
the floor, used appropriate language (as they do in the movies), and then exclaimed:
"Give me liberty, or give me death!" Next I vowed a vow that whether the state ever
had good teachers or not, I, for one, would never "bone" again. The next minute I
became bold. I grabbed my long coat and my scarf for a disguise. Stealthily I crept
down the creaking stairs ; stealthily I passed into outer darkness ; stealthily I dodged the
night watchman, and stealthily I arrived at my destination — the "Little Store" — and
bought, let me whisper it, a Coca-Cola! Alas! I wish that I had never tasted that
vile stimulant, for that night queer dreams surged through my brain and tormented me,
enraptured me, gladdened me, saddened me. Why should a mere thing as a dream
move me so? Ah, my friends, if you too had had such dreams, you too would have
been moved.

The first thing that I saw after I closed my eyes was a gray mist that revealed —
nothing. But slowly, as I listened to the strains of low music, golden gleams began to
dart through the haze until at last I beheld a city of shining light. Then, as the music
changed to the soft, joyous strains of "We raise our voices, let them swell," a tiny voice
whispered in my ear the following:

"This is the City of Service. It is not an unusual city. There's much beauty, much
joy, much sadness, much humor here. Look at it closely and you will see many things;



Page eighty-five




but many will not be as you expected. See that wide, beautiful street over there with
all of its lawns blue with violets? That's the Avenue of Love. See this frequented
street over here? It is the Street of Loyalty. But, look! you must see the main street
of the city directly in front of you. That is the Street of Honor. All of your class-
mates know that street. It's a beautiful one, and a beautiful city, if you look at it in
the right way. But it's no Utopian city, for there you will find everything just as you
would in an ordinary town. Go and see for yourself what your classmates are doing
there."

I decided to explore it as was suggested. Down the street I sauntered, looking at
all the advertisements, trying especially to see if I might find out the business of any of
my old friends. I had not walked long before I achieved my purpose. The first two
signs that I saw prepared me for everything, for who would ever have dreamed that the
simple, unaffected Lela would ever have gone into business with an advertisement,
"Mademoiselle Le La Wade, Beauty Parlor," or that the charming, dramatic Anna
Bernard would want a dead sort of job with "Benson, Undertaker and Embalmer,"
as an advertisement? As I stood before these signs in open-mouthed wonder, an old
covered wagon rattled up before "Medlock's Five and Ten-Cent Store" and stopped.
Just as I was thinking how well Willie John must have applied her business ability to
her work, an old lady with five red-headed children jumped out and went into the store
and bought a quarter's worth of all-day suckers. Poor Carrie Duffy, to think that you
should ever come to this, when once you had such a store of beauty, charm, clothes,
and suitors! I felt truly sorry for her, but I could not bewail her fate long because of
the shrieks of a Salvation Army lassie singing on the street near me. I peeped slyly
under her bonnet and saw the Madonna-like face of Catherine Cobb. With her was
Norma Holden, also in the Salvation Army costume, preaching to a dozen bystanders.
They were failing in their attempts to draw a crowd, for our little Hessie, as scientific
and as conscientious as ever, was on the other side of the street selling "Blankenship's
Kidney Pills — her own discovery, guaranteed to cure burns, to remove dandruff, corns
and goiters, and to create a skin you love to touch."

At first I had been truly bewildered at the things that I had seen, but now I was
prepared to see anything with the attitude of a stoic. Consequently, I was quite calm
when the crowd on the street began to line up along the sidewalk, craning their necks
and jabbering. I followed the direction of the eyes of these people and, to my surprise,
saw the head of a huge elephant waving his trunk as he slowly came nearer. As I
gazed, gradually the whole body of the animal came into view. To my astonishment,
I saw a tiny midget sitting sedately on the red plush and gold-trimmed affair that adorned
the back of the creature. My eyes told me that this person was Janie Klutz, but my
intelligence would not let me believe it. Just then the Still Small Voice came to my
rescue by whispering: "That's all right. Janie still intends to be a foreign missionary.
She's merely joined the circus temporarily in order that she may learn something of the
wild animals of the jungle before she goes to Africa." Satisfied with the explanation,
I resolved to question fate no further. Behind the elephant in the parade came zebras,
lions and panthers in gilded cages. Hooray, a "sure-'nuff circus"! Joe Causey, in
semi-military khaki, stood with a camera on one side of the street and took pictures of
the parade for the movies. Dainty, spotted, cream-and-white ponies pranced along to
the music of the steam piano. Elizabeth Smith and Mary Haynes, dressed in simple,
fluffy, pink-spangled gauze, posed daringly on their big toes upon the backs of two of
these animals. Elizabeth Davis rode with the lions — the wee, timid Elizabeth — in
order that she might tame them if they should become wild or unmanageable ; while the
lovable, dignified Mary Bynum Paris, dressed in a clown suit, tried to ride a balking
white mule, keeping the crowd in an uproar of laughter by her ridiculous antics. I was
human. I could not help but follow such an interesting spectacle to its destination.



Page eighty -six




es



Accordingly. I joined the crowd and followed the parade to the circus grounds, there
to see even more unusual sights. It was not long before I spied Lena Williams selling
"hot dogs," and Sadie Somers running a shoot-the-negro-baby (three balls for a nickel)
gambling machine. While visiting the side shows, I found that the Greek goddess,
Mary Foust, daughter of our old college president, had become the "Wild Woman";
Lydia Farmer and Elsie Swindell, Siamese twins ; and Marie Richards an acrobat. I saw
Ethel Boyte exhibiting the largest frogs in captivity (raised scientifically), and also Corne-
lia Jones and Rachel Haynes running a successful bowling alley. As I chased about the
grounds, I accidentally ran into Sybil Barrington. She had a notebook and pencil in her
had, and told me that she was a reporter on Miller's Times at present, having been dis-
charged a few days before from Cherry's Sun. Then she gave me a copy of both papers,
and I stuffed them into my pocket, continuing the absorbing process of drinking pink lemon-
ade. At last I became tired of the circus and decided to go back to the city and rest.

As I was dragging my feet wearily along the dusty road, Bessie May Walker passed
by me, driving a jitney, accompanied by Elsie Yarborough. They gave me a lift, and
we proceeded to talk over old times. Elsie said she had married a baseball player and
had procured a divorce. (She added that she had not yet decided whom she would
marry next.) They told me that Nell Fleming was a dress designer; Edith Laidlaw
a stenographer; Marjorie Mendenhall a landscape gardener; Marie Kinard a Wall
Street financier; Elizabeth McLean a kindergarten teacher; and Katherine McLean a
"Traveler's Aid Woman" in the City of Service.

About this time we had come to "Pharr's Drug Store" in the city, and I thanked
my old friends for their bumpy ride, telling them that I thought I would go in and get
me something to drink while I read the papers Sybil Barrington had given me. The
first thing that I noticed after I had settled myself down to digest the news while sipping
a Coca-Cola was that Marguerite Jenkins had made her first appearance in the Metro-
politan Opera House. Reading further in the Art Column, I also learned that Mary
Fulton had gone abroad to study music, and that Elsilene Felton had been fined two
thousand dollars, while attempting to perform on a piano in Paris, because of injuries
to the instrument and to the public-at-large, due to the Samson-like strength of Miss
Felton, developed while taking music at the North Carolina College. I was also glad
to learn that Natalie Coffey had become a second Petrova, and that Ethel Icard and
Rachel Clifford had won fame, the first by a lecture called the "Etomology of Flea
Culture in Ancient Rome," and the second by a book called "An Appreciation of the
Spinspangolian Poetry." I found interesting information in other columns than this, one
thing being a plea of Marie Kendall's for money to buy calico dresses and overalls for
the two hundred orphans she was caring for; another thing being a picture of Carrie
Tabor taken a la Irene Castle, with some opinions of hers regarding dress underneath;
while still another thing was an advertisement of LaRue McLawhorn's florist shop,
wherein she made a specialty of cultivating "Sweet Williams." That Josephine Hopkins
was doing reconstruction work in Belgium; that Hazel West had joined the I. W. W.'s
in Montana; and that Lutie Stevenson was running a free lunch counter in Canada,
were enlightening bits of information also. But the one thing that impressed me most
in both the 7*wies of Miller's and the Sun of Cherry's was the political gossip regarding
the next candidates for the presidency — Mary Kincaid and Veritas Sanders — the slogan
of each party being "She's the very girl for the place."

Just then I was interrupted by a slap on the back. I looked around, recognized
Isabel Adrey after a few seconds, and shook hands wtih her. She sat down and I
asked her to have a "dope on me." She did so and before long began to tell me about
herself. Her story was one of single bliss. She had become a fine country doctor and
was practicing around the City of Service, seeing and being with many of our former
classmates. Juanita Kesler, she said, had invented an absolutely painless method of



Page eighty-seven




washing dishes and was selling her instrument to thousands of people. Dr. Adrey
added that she often ran into Juanita giving a demonstration, or Jessie Rankin trying
to sell books. The last articles were written by Rouss Hayes, who had followed in the
illustrious footsteps of the man of that name and had written many sociology and history
books, but had surpassed her model in that she had illustrated her works with many
cuts left over from the annual. Hattie and Pearl Wilson were becoming rich, the good
old doctor then informed me, by being twin auctioneers ; and Margaret Lawrence was
also very successful in running a large farm, employing nothing but women as laborers.
Mamie Speas had realized the height of her ambition — to run an up-to-date dairy.
Aline Hicks had married a millionaire and had an elegant suburban home. This lady.
Dr. Adrey said, had given much of her wealth to the County Home, run by Katie
King, in which two of the inmates were Nannie Mae Tilley and Mary Winn Abernethy,
who had lost all of their money from too frequent trips to the Little Store during their
college days. Little Virginia Dare Braswell made an ideal country parson's wife, and
Jimmie Jones, as Director of Dormitories in a small boarding school, was one to be
feared with her immense amount of dignity. Mary Benton carried the government mail
between several small villages around the city, my old friend added with a grandiloquent
air. Then she pulled out several pamphlets from her pocket and told me that these
were given to her by Lucile Dowd, who was then engaged in inspecting school children
to determine whether they were adenoid, tuberculosis, or hookworm patients. The next
information given out by this old gossip lover was that Myra Stone was working in a
Jew's store, Helen Askew had joined the gypsies, and Ruth Heilig was doing her duty
as the county sheriff. But the most startling fact of all came next. Mildred Mendenhall
had become a world-famed detective since her skill had been shown in unraveling the
mystery that had baffled experts for years concerning the disappearance of the pension
money given to a great number of old maid school teachers who had taught for at least
twenty years. The unfortunate ones were Julia West, Ida Owens, Mary Alderman,
Mabel Boysworth, Carrie Burton, Annie Campbell, Fay Martin, Christine Sloan, Win-


1 2 4 6 7 8 9

Online LibraryNorth Carolina College for WomenPine needles (Volume 1920) → online text (page 4 of 9)