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ladies. She was living a successful life, and seemed contented and happy. Associated with her as
teachers were Sarah Wendell and Lollie Baisden.

Suddenly before her eyes there appeared a procession of kings and other royal personages
bearing garlands and palms. On a gorgeous throne in the background sat a figure in robes of
green. Over her head, in incandescent lights, flashed out the word "fame." The procession ap-
proached and laid their offerings at her feet. The observer had just time to distinguish the
cla.ssic features of Mary Fite Turley, when darkness came to her relief

Theresa McGavock she saw as a blooming young matron occupied with sweet home duties.

Ethel Smith's keen wit had placed her in the position of editor of "Puck," and well did she fill
her place.

Frances Harris had become a poet of sweet and charming personalit}', and was fast taking
her highl)' merited stand among poets of every tongue.

Mary Saunders had developed into a learned Latin and Greek scholar, and spent her days in
digging up old monuments and deciphering their inscriptions.

A great volume of smoke obscured the view. When it cleared, a battlefield, with all its horrors,
presented itself. Soothing the groans of the dying, dressing wounds, and performing offices for
the dead, were to be seen members of tlie Red Cross Society. Foremost among them, she dis-
covered Mary Tom Odil, whose gentle face was loved by all with whom she came in contact.

Bennie Hodge a brilliant journalist had become, and her name was famous throughout the
entire world.

Much might be said of Laura Malone's historical works, but the fact that they were to be
found classed with Gibbon's " Rome," and Guizot's " France," speaks for itself.

Sarah Berry was an artist of great promise and rare and singular genius, and Emma Gayle
Craig's voice had made her a second Patti.

Gertrude Whitworth had graduated at Vassar, and attained great honors there ; while Alice
Carroll was spending the winter in New York, giving a series of successful musical entertainments.

Next the eyes of the image showed her the interior of an enormous theater, upon which was
being played, with great feeling, " Romeo and Juliet." The leading lady she recognized as Maggie
May Beaty, an actress of great note.

Clara Park she found as a woman's rights advocate, and her eloquent appeals were heard
throughout all the country.

Lula May Haynes was the wife of a well-to-do banker, and was living in great state.

The fate of all, save herself, had now been revealed. Raising the image in her trembling fin-
gers, she attempted to put it to her eyes ; but her hold upon it had been very slight, and in a mo-
ment she beheld it in a thousand pieces at her feet. "Alas! Alas!" she cried. "'What have I
done ? My fate is sealed from me forever! " And with this she sank upon the floor in a swoon.

Fannie May Withkrspoon.

Jo f Ae




To the Senior Class 1899-1900. Ward Seminary, Nashville, Tenn.





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Cuiiyiiglit, 1900, by Frederic Emoraou Farra





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Mens Sana in corpore sano.

'fhusiral QJulturr Exlnhitiou


From 4 to 5 o-clock

1. May Drill.

2. (n) Swedish Gymnastics.
(*) Club Swinging.

3. German Bell Drill.

4. Fancy March.

5. Ring Drill.
0, Combination Wani> a

7. Advanced Cli'b Swin

All lady friends of the school ;
cordially invited.

'^Uard Scminarv) Commencement

MAY 17-30, 1900

Thursday, May 17, 8 p.m. /iic/lal. — Pupils of Miss Mclhvaine.

Friday, May iS, S p.:\i. Recital. — Pupils of Miss Gear3^

Saturday, Maj' 19, S p.m. Recital. — Pupils of Miss Cosgrove and Mr. Allen.

Monday, May 21, 8 p.m. Recital. — Pupils of Mr. Starr and Miss Caldwell.

Tue.sda3', May 22, S p.m. Graduate Recital. — Piano and \'oice, Miss Little.

Thursday, May 24, 8 p.m. Annual Recital. — Elocution, " The"

Friday, May 25, 8 p.m. AVr/A!/. —Pupils of Mrs. Randle.

Saturday, May 26, 3 to 5 ; S to 10 p.,'M. — Art Reception.

Sundaj', May 27, i i a.m. Baccalaureate Sermon, Rev. Jas. I. \'ance, D.D.

Monday, May 28, 8 p.m. Aliinuiic Reception to Senior Class.

Tuesday, May 29, 8 to 10 p.m. Graduate Recital. — Music and lilocutiou.

Wedne.sday, May 30, 11 .\.m. Address to Graduates, Professor William Spencer Currell, Ph.D.
Conferring Diplomas.

Clang, Clang, Clang!

( With apologies to Tennyson I

LANG, CUiiiK, ClaiiR!

I iR-ar thy rail, O bell,

Anil I would that my tongue coulil utter
The thoughts that within me dwell;
For I know I am late tor breakfast,
And I feel that stony stare

That comes from the angry teacher—
A warning, I'd best take care.
But, still, I am always tardy,

Though I honestly, earnestly strive
To get up when I hear that gong ring.
And be there at six fifty-five.
Clang, clang, clang!

Comes sharply again to nn- ears,
And it always has this meaning:
A lecture, repentance, and — tears.

— Is.\m-.r. Wiij.i.\M.s

The Senior^s Story

WAS the night for our club to meet in mj- room. Mr.
Blanton had \-er3' kindly permitted u.s to form the dub,
with the provision that it.s meeting.s were not to interfere
with our college duties; in fact, though no such admission
was e\-er made in so manj- words, he permitted the club
to exist s///> rosa in the Seminar}'. It was a story-tellers'
club. Each member was put under solemn obligation to
hatch up a story and tell it at some meeting. This had
been the order pursued by the others until my turn was
now due. I had racked my brain for the last several
months trying to evolve .some fabrication from my un-
imaginative mind, and I felt that I had not only failed,
but must certainly continue to fail in the future. I had
never been able to tell a story when it had been produced
by some one else, and the task of making the story and
telling it, too, seemed ridiculously far beyond me. Now
that my fate was staring me in the face, I felt deeply conscious that I had been almost a traitor
to permit myself to join a story-tellers' club. To tell the whole truth, I had had at each meeting
qualms of conscience ; had felt my guilt, but not sufficiently keen to stick to my half-formed
resolution to confess and resign. So I had not done it. I had listened to the stories told bj' the
others in titrn with varied and conflicting sensations, first with wondering approval, and then
with fault-finding disapproval. It was so easy, as I looked back upon it, to sit in judgment upon
the efforts of others, and yet now I realized with a vengeance that to criticise and find fault is,
after all, easier than to do better oneself. Therefore, I sat in my room almost prostrated with
the overwhelming sense of inability to do as well as those I had thought in nn- ignorant pride

were so iinperfectl_v " filling the bill " ol the club's demand. At the thought of the ordeal so rap-
idly approaching, the cold, clammy perspiration came out on my hands and feet. If Carter
had come in on me then, and, doubting my state of health, had put her educated touch upon me,
I am sure she would have pronounced me suffering with a chill, possibly a congestive chill, or
even approaching death.

For the sake of the privacy we were tacitly allowed to meet late, our meetings .sometimes
lasting for an hour or two after lights were out. I had gone up to my fourth-story room, south
wing, at once after supper, That awful coming event had already begun to cast its baleful
shadow over me, and I felt I must get off for a while to bring myself into some composure, if
possible. It was all in vain. Disgrace, as I felt it, like an avenging Nemesis, was just behind
nie. I, the vny /as/ of the ten, was about to make ihe Ji/s/ failure. I realized now that the poor-
est effort, that one that I had thought so imperfect, was as beautiful as a dream of happiness and
as perfect as an ideal fancy from the poet's heart on fire with his theme. My mind would not or
could not work, and my memory, usually .so good to help me, was a perfect blank; so, like a rud-
derless vessel, I drifted to my fate.

Hush ! Was that the step of the first member ? No, nothing but the hungry wandering of a
mouse. I could not repress a ghastly smile at the thought of a mouse, of all living things, wan-
dering about in a college for young ladies. Thus, it is said, men will sometimes go to death with
a smile on their lips. But that smile seemed to loosen something in.side of me, and, much to my
joy, I felt a wave of blood leave my heart and run through me, carrying warmth and (what was more
important) a feeling of renewed life. Strange to say, I felt confidence growing in me, although
I could not tell upon what basis it developed, and was not inclined to take time to analyze it.
I was too deeply grateful that I was to meet my fate in a better frame of mind, to say the least,
and I just shut my eyes with those joy bells ringing in my ears and enjoyed that thrill of satis-
faction to the fullest extent. The next moment I opened my eyes glowing with delight, for when
my lids shut out my lamp and the fire light I .saw a vision. Never mind what it was: that will
come later; but that was like a peep into heaven. I wanted to sing, to shout, to dance,
to tunable on the bed — wanted to do everything a well-ordered Senior ought not to do — and I had
hard work to hold myself in check. The prisoner sentenced to die, standing with the yawning
grave just behind him, momentarily expecting the flash of the rifles, ne%'er received his reprieve
with a greater shock of joy than I did when I realized that my pride was not to tumble to the

dnst. Now I would welcome the (irdeal and feel satisfied with any outcome. The critic in me
was dead, and my soul leaped within me as the man whose faith had made him whole. I felt I
had passed a crisis in my life which would exert a humanizing- influence to its latest years. What
a respect for others had grown within me! What a charity — wide, liberal, generous! So happy
and elated did I feel that I sat there with almost palpitating breath to enjoy the luxnr)' of a good
" think " before the quiet assembling of the club Back and forth along my college course, now so
soon to close, my mind flew like the .shuttle of the weaver. The glowing radiance that the
future had suddenl}' taken, .seemed to glow along the pathway of the years behind me also, and
the successive gradations of my intellectual training seemed suddenly to assume definite propor-
tions and to flame with vivid meaning. I felt as if my mind had hitherto been a.sleep and had
just now awakened to the sunlight of a fully developed strength. I felt that the attitude that had
formerly been mine toward classmates and teachers had somehow changed. They were, of course,
untouched; so it must be that I had undergone this wonderful, all-pervading change. As I thrilled
through and through with my new-found ecstasy, I felt that I resembled m^' old self less than the
airj' butterfl)' resembles the ugly chrysalis from which it has j ust escaped. The past took on a fuller
meaning; the future offered an illimitable opportunity. As my mental — and, I might add, my
soul — exaltation increased, I felt I must fill my lungs with more of life's elixir, and so I threw my
head back to get a deep breath, when I lost my balance and fell from the chair. Mj' castle in Spain
was all a dream, and the crushing sense of my impending degradation rolled like an icy avalanche
upon me. D. R. S.

The VioIin^s Story

I lie forgotten in these walls,

Where even sunshine nia\- not stra}-,
So closely doth the yellow earth

Bar out the litfht of dav.

Across my breast the broken bow
Rests idly — it has lain for years-

And one by one my silver strings
Have fallen unite as tears.

Yet he, my master, as he played

Across my throbbing bosom, pressed

His slender fingers, and his curls
I'pon my heart were wont to rest.

He wandered 'neath the gold and Tilue
Of Andalusia's sunny skies.

And ever into song caressed
The cadence of our mingling sighs.

And I, a violin, brown with mold,

Vet time hath sweetened by her tread,

Within this narrow box, and by

The side of him, my master — dead!

They found him at the fountain's brink.
And cold upon my arching breast

His lips; and I, a violin, nmle,

Upon his \oung, dead heart was pressed.

And here within the grassy rod,
Beyond the busy lives of men,

Alone with Nature and with God,
Thev l)urieil us beneath the fen.

And with the chill of setting sun
I hear across the fallow marsh

The long-beaked crane her wand'ring mate
Recall with wild notes weird and harsh.

Here, where the blushing jasmine binds
The willow with her twisted arms,

I slumber in the silent clay

Beneath the green and spreading palm.

And here his spirit softh' comes
To greet me with the love of years,

And as the pale moon waxeth old,
We meet and linger with our tears.

Soon, soon m^' form shall crumbling die.
And mingle with the loamy earth;

The flowered moor, the stagnant tarn,
Shall give a modern citv birth!

Will Progress mark her chan.ges here
By era of the harp and pen ?

Will nations meet upon tlie soil

That once has been our loneh- fen ?

The antlienis of forgotten rears.
In time shall live again to prove

That still upon his heart there lies
A dead musician's only love.

— G.\RNET NoEi,.

Our Pound Party

BREATHLESS hush fell upon us all wheu Nydia Rutledge sat up straight, her
eyes glowing like coals of fire in a face almost ashen witli emotion. We felt that
something was coming. Somehow the silence before a storm burst was the feeling
that had been insensibly growing in our minds, as we saw her flush and pale with
alternate waves of suppres.sed excitement. Our gathering was rather unique
Strictly against Seminary rules, we had conspired to give this strange, self-
poised girl a treat, garnished with a genuine surprise. It was just at tlie close of the Christ-
mas holiday vacation, when the boxes of good things were almost emptied of their hoarded
goodies. It had been noticed that Nydia Rutkdge had not received any box from hiane. When
this was seen and fully realized, we more fortunate ones felt a sympathetic tenderness come over
us toward her; yet, however genuine the feeling, none of us could have spoken to her. She had
held everybody at arm's reach, as we then decided, although no consciousness of any feeling of
coldness was present to any one. It was just known to be the case when the subject was discussed,
and that was all there was to it. Ways and means were privately discussed as to how we could
best contribute at least the remnants of our Chri.stmas dainties to her pleasure. When the prop-
osition was made it was adopted unanimously, and it .seemed the easiest thing in the world to do:
but b\- the time we had rejected some half dozen schemes as not suitable, it began to dawn upon
us that it was the liardest kind of thing to do. We had all known her and liked her in a general
way; but upon the demand being made for volunteers to do something tangible, it developed that
she had not been intimate with any one of us or any one of her other schoolmates. Theretore our
good intention seemed about to die of congenital lack of vitality. At last, however, some genius —
I believe it was Miss Peck, tliough I am not certain — suggested that we might give her a surprise
party some night, and each one was to contribute what she had or what she thought best. I
called it a "pound paitw" l)ul the girls laughed that out of countenance, because some of them
did not have a pound of anything left. But, anyway, call it what you please, we decided to drop
in on her some night and have a feast as the closing event of our holiday vacation.

In our little world it does not take long to mature a plan, especially if it has anything to do
with eating, and bv the following night, like a band of conspirators, we slipped along tlie corri-
dors to her room, I think at first she was inclined to disregard our leader's knock, thinking it
was some prank; but the certain, confident tone it next assumed opened the door at once. She
showed surprise, if not annoyance, also, at the sight that met her gaze, Init in tlie next nioir.ent
we were invited in. Six girls in one room, and that not the biggest, are a good many, and it
took some diplomatic as well as unconventional managing to get us all seated. Without prelimi-
naries our leader stated the object of the meeting, just as in one of our literary societies. I tell
you, it took a good one to keep right on beyond the danger line, as she did, when N\dia began to
stiffen and freeze as the full import of our call dawned upon her. But we had not reckoned with-
out our host, and she was just compelled to understand that our hearts were right, whatever our
methods lacked. All the " returns," as I called them, were in by the time our peace was fully estab-
lished, and the top of her small center taljle was covered with fruit cake, sardines, raisins, marsh
mallows, and so on, until it would have made the mouth of a cannon icatcr to have seen the
spread. Opening our mouths seemed to open our hearts — or just the reverse, if it suits >oa better —
and the icy atmosphere rose in temperature at a rapid rate. Conventionality Hew out of the win-
dow, and joyous hilarity ruled in its stead. Our talk rambled as inclination or impulse, especially
the latter, dictated; and, but for that occasional something that Nydia seemed to swell with, all
was as serene as could be. No one seemed to notice her or to fear any accident, yet all of us were
perfectly prepared for something, if not anj'thing, when that hush which I have mentioned fell
upon us. Nj'dia had straightened up with talk in her manner and a strange condnnation of con-
flicting emotions was playing changes on her face.

" Girls," she began, " now that our feast is about over, I feel that I ought to dn more than
thank you. I find my heart so full of varying surges of inclination that it is almost impossible
for me to articulate at all. I may not say what I wish to; in fact, I feel that I cannot: but because
I so full)' appreciate your kind intentions I feel that I must fail trying to do my l>est to that end.
I realize more fully than you think how this tangible kindness is onl\- the outward manife'-tation
of your intangible good will, and I know the sympathetic hearts that throb back of this pleasant
little party. I feel, too, that the foolish pride which all but caused me to treat you rudely at the
outset should be atoned for by a confidence from me to you. This confidence must take the form
of a complete life story, which, when fully in your possession, will, I believe, explain much that

may have niystifiecl you and others of my schoohnates. Before I can remember, my father, a well-
to-do merchant in Charleston, S. C lost almost everything he possessed in an unfortunate trade.
With flaming pride he collected what was left and went over the Blue Ridge and settled, with wife
and child, on a modest farm hidden in one of the deep coves on the Tennessee side of the Great
Smoky Mountains. Their pride of birth and educational incompatibility with their neighbors iso-
lated them from almost all associations. There, on the bank of the Little Tennessee River, I was
reared, with no friends but my parents and no companions but my soaring aspirations. As a child
I pined for the opportunity of education almost without knowing its import. As far as my parents
could teach me, I was taught; but the wings of my ambition were only strengthened by such in-
struction, and I found myself soaring up to the sky line of the Smokies with a never-weakening
desire for learning. It is most likely true that none of you have felt what I am trying to depict,
and I humbly pray that it is so.

"After years of beating fruitlessly at the bars of my cage, as it were, a chance came like a
providential gift. One day, while aimlessly strolling along tlie valley road, I picked up a scrap of
newspaper, and just as aimlessly commenced to read it. That was four years ago, before I com-
menced here, and seems almost a dream of another and former existence."

She paused for a moment, and her fine eyes were filled with a soft light of reminiscence. We
were dumb in the presence of this noble girl thus revealing— for the first time, doubtless — the
cherished, companion secret of her girlhood. In a moment, with a perceptible start, she returned
to us and resumed her narrative.

" That scrap of paper contained an account of the finding of pearls in Stone River, a tribu-
tary of the Cumberland, that flows by this city. It was a message from the outside world, and as
such arrested my attention, and I read with rising interest of how the people along its banks were
.seeking pearls in the common mussels found in the shallows of that stream. Ah'eady pearls had
l)een found worth hundreds of dollars to the dealers in the cities. Until I had quite finished its
perusal no thought of its having a personal interest to me came into my mind, but then in a flash
I was transfi.Ked with the idea that here my chance had come. The Little Tennessee River, a
tributary of the Tennessee, was filled with sand bars upon which I had known for years those
same fresh-water mussels abounded. Many a time I had waded, more like a solitary boy than a
girl, into the water, and pulled them out of their beds for the idlest pastime. Now the very sug-
gestion that they might contain pearls, pearls with a money value, caused me to pant with a new-

born hope. I was impatient to be at the work of findino out, and before I went home at twilight
I had piled up a half bushel or more along the sandy bank. Almost bursting with my .secret, I
could hardly wait for the earl}' breakfast before returning to my search. Armed with an old
hatchet, I hurried to my work of exploring those mussels, and the fire of my ardor refu.sed to
be dimmed by the ccjntinued disappointments that repaid my labors. But when my fingers were
beginning to show the effects of sharp edges and awkward blows, I came upon a pearl, a genuine
pearl — not very large, to be sure, but as a warrant that there were others to be had sufficiently
alluring. Days and weeks were filled with my persistent .search, and one shallow after another
was almost depleted of its supply, and yet mj' zeal knew no abatement. The good-natured chaffing

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