Contributions to this department are desired by the second of the month in order to appear in that month's issue, and should be sent to Gertrude Tubby, Tenney House. '81. Ella C. Clark has returned from Southern California where she spent the past winter. '92. Harriet A. Boyd and Blanche E. Wheeler, who set out for Crete in March, have excavated a Mycenean site with a street, houses, pottery and bronzes. '94. Caroline V. Lynch sailed for Europe June 5, to spend the summer. '96. Mary C. Howes sails for Europe June 22, to spend four months. Frances I. Butler, Eva L. Hills and Frances E. Jones sailed for Naples June 1, having planned a trip through Italy, Germany and the Low Countries. '97. Mrs. Joseph Scott Rawson's (Grace Nichols Dustan) present address is 9 Park Terrace, Hartford, Connecticut. Alice A. Maynard has been traveling abroad since June 1900. Therina Townsend was married June 1, to Mr. Everett Larkin Barnard. '98. Isabella Mack is studying medicine in the Woman's Medical College, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. '99. The notice given in the May Monthly of the marriage of Helen K. Demond is without truth and is hereby retracted. Margherita Isola was married May 21, to Mr. Charles Gilman Hyde of Germantown, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Ruth Huntington will remain at Johns Hopkins next year in her present capacity. The position offered her by the University of Pennsylvania was not the traveling fellowship announced in the May issue. Caroline C. Hills was married June 12, to Mr. J. Weston Allen of Boston. Harriet Stockton announces her engagement to Mr. Maulsby Kimball. 1900. Edith Ramage is traveling abroad for a year. Clara E. Sherman is teaching English in the Evening High School, New Mary S. Whitcomb has announced her engagement to Mr. Alden Clark. BIRTHS '99. Mrs. W. Stewart Gilman (Marjorie King) a daughter, Florence King, born May 7. Mrs. John De Harte (Katharine Seward) a son, John Somers, born May 24. DEATH '90. Mrs. A. M. Amadon (Bertha B. Smith) died at her home in Dorchester, Massachusetts, on Tuesday, May 21. ABOUT COLLEGE "Know thyself" said the Theban philosopher with calm assurance, as if, in that innocent-seeming bit of advice he had not recommended the most baffling search that one can imagine. Would that On Knowing Oneself they had added a postscript with directions for the use of their philosophical pellet, or had left some record of their own successes or failures in practising what they preached. The search after one's self sometimes seems as profitless as the chase of a kitten for its own tail, as hopeless as the chase of a kitten would be, if a dozen tails were waving tantalizingly just around the corner of its eye. Who of us is not acquainted with a score of "myselves" each claiming to be the "true and only"? We have delightful companionship with a faithful, loyal-hearted, merry being for days together, and rejoice to find ourselves so amiable and agreeable. On the morning when we shake hands with ourselves in congratulation at having made the great discovery of life, a weakwilled, basely ambitious, utterly benighted soul presents itself to our astonished view as the rightful claimant. We grumble upstairs when So-and-So is announced, and go down to tell our friend, with genuine sincerity, that we are glad to see her; or we assure So-and-So that it will be the greatest pleasure to do that little errand for her, and feel disposed to complain next day at the extra blocks we have had to walk on account of it. On Sunday we sit in our quiet pew and wonder at the violent-tempered discourteous acts that we did on Saturday. On Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday the illusive self puzzles us still more. We find ourselves able to argue unsophisticatedly for both sides of a question or strenuously upholding one principle and working in practice on quite another. Blue moments, often lengthening into days, fall to our lot, when with downcastness of spirit we incline to the oriental belief in soul-nothingness, so vanishing and unknown a quantity does our self seem to be. Indeed these periods of distrust assume almost the character of "required courses" at college, where opinions and ideas that we never dreamed of, are thrust upon us from our books and by our teachers. We are continually playing a fierce and eager game of hide-and-go-seek with the elusive personality that is forever losing itself among weird and terrible shapes of hitherto unknown thoughts. The meditation that would shape the new chaotic material to forms of beauty and order oftentimes must wait till summer vacation before it can begin its work of saving grace. So that while we can glibly recite the opinions and judgments of the "authorities", they lie in our minds unrelated to mind itself, like the wind-blown leaves on the meadow in November. People tell us reassuringly that we must insist on our own opinions, that they have as good a claim to be considered as the most orthodox and recog nized of those that have their abode on the shelves of well-regulated libraries. But what ingenuous aud frank soul is fully persuaded of this truth? How is it possible that the mighty intellects of the authors of our reference books can be mistaken or can have overlooked considerations that seem to us salient? It is infinitely easier to believe that we, rather than they, fail to see the point. Nevertheless, modesty often plays us a sorry trick. The question is not after all whether we are numbered with those who hold the "best opinions", but whether we actually hold an opinion through personal conviction rather than phonographic imitation. Better the quite fallacious view that we came upon by ourselves than the faultless one we grind out mechanically by dint of mere memory. Our opinions symbolize to us the mysterious force belonging to us alone, about which we are sometimes sceptical because it refuses to be pigeon-holed. Wherefore, even though we may not fully know ourselves, let us nct fail to have opinions of our own, even if we must stand with an unpopular and sadly small minority. Further, we may always console ourselves with the reflection, in the words of the song, that "after all the fight, Why, perhaps the wrong man's right, don't you know." ETHEL MARGUERITE DELONG 1901. The following is a translation of excerpts from M. Deschamps' article on his visit to Smith College, published in Le Temps, March 2: All the students, no matter what their far-away homes-those from Chicago, those from Lafayette, those from Philadelphia, or those from San Francisco-all have been moulded by the intellectual, moral, and physical discipline of the college. The routine of the same classes, the same examinations, the same efforts of memory, the same gymnastic exercises, make these young girls resemble each other, almost as sisters. They all have the same manner, at once studious and athletic. ... One perceived, beside, that these young girls felt at home. They planted the stout soles of their shoes upon the soil with a sort of joy of proprietorship. Evidently they consider the city of Northampton as a simple dependency of Smith College. In matter of fact, this city, in spite of its 20,000 inhabitants, its Episcopal church, its walks bordered by elms, its navigable river, and its manufactories, consents to be the devoted servant of this college. The one takes possession of the other...... .... On the walls, hung with flowered and light-colored paper, one sees watercolors brightly tinted, which reflect a corner of the sky or a bit of sparkling water. One sees, too, photographs artistically framed, that smile. I notice here and there pictures of young men. These are cousins, evidently. I also admire the trophies of athletic victories carried away by Smith College. Here are the banners glorified by the basket-ball players.... The excess of work would run the risk of being dangerous if Smith College did not have a campus where the students play tennis; woods and fields where they go, during the fine season, to take luncheon on the grass; a Paradise where a river offers boating; and lastly a gymnasium where they play basket-ball. I was permitted to be present at a game of basket-ball. The object of this game, borrowed from the ancient palestra, is to seize the ball on a bound, and to throw it into a basket, placed very high, near the wall of the hall. The players, divided into two sides, are conveniently dressed in a gymnastic costume of blue serge, drawn in at the waist by a leather belt, which makes them look like very coquettish young zouaves. A sailor collar on the blouse-waist increases the simplicity of this loose and easy garment. At the signal, you should see them jump with the sudden spring of Amazons, upon the rebounding ball.......A kindly rivalry excites them. They run, they stop, extend their arms, start again on the run, utter cries of triumph or despair, strike the floor on their flexible low shoes, bend down, rise again, push each other a little, fall sometimes, rush again to the contest, to the victory. And the ball, animated as a living thing, outdoes in its sudden bounds the movements of these two alert teams. The desire of victory and the chances of the game multiply their gestures and their attitudes, display an infinite suppleness of feminine charm, almost feline, and show in instantaneous pictures, too quickly disappearing, a group of harmonious figures. College Hall never held a more radiantly eager gathering than that whitewaisted throng which, as early as eight o'clock, began to assemble for chapel on Tuesday, May 28. For the next half The President's Home-Coming hour the air was charged with the storedup enthusiasm of six months, but the instant the organ announced the entrance of President Seelye, the noise subsided, and we rose to receive him. As he faced us from the desk, we burst into the stirring greeting which we had been calling "the President's Song", written by Charlotte DeForest and Dr. Blodgett : The ship has sailed across the blue, The ship has brought across the blue Guides nobler craft to journey free From outgrown worlds of thought to new. We sang well, for our hearts were filled with thankfulness and that was the best way we had of expressing it. After this, which took the place of the chant, the service proceeded as usual; President Seelye read the Psalm beginning "I was glad when they said unto me, Let us go into the house of the Lord." At the end, the President spoke to us of the fulfilment of his parting prophecy-that his happiest moment from the time he left his desk would be the moment when he stood there again. He said that of all the places he had visited, none seemed to him so fair as this; that in none of the institutions he had seen, did there appear to be more advantages for the education of women than at Smith College; and that he thanked us for our welcome and heartily reciprocated the affectionate greeting we had given him. Our applause was interrupted by the signal for a verse of "Fair Smith ", and then, while the organ pealed forth the Hymn of Joy, we reluctantly filed out, sure that besides all the other advantages Smith College may possess, there is no such President as ours anywhere. REBECCA ROBINS MACK 1901. The date for the Junior Promenade, wandering uneasily back and forth between the eighth and the twenty-ninth, finally stuck fast midway between the two, and became fixed for May 15. On the The Junior Promenade morning of that day the junior psychology class was pained to learn that the sun was of that type of individual who delays and procrastinates and makes up his mind very slowly indeed. But as afternoon came on, and the back-campus became dotted, then massed, with dainty light gowns, with here and there a glimpse of a more sombre hue, he could not forbear to smile at the pretty scene. And later, when the musical clubs began their program, and the cameras were clicking everywhere-one would-be photographer even mounting the Observatory roof in his zeal-the sun smiled still more broadly and did not cease until, for obvious reasons, he had to. With the evening came the event itself. The class of 1902 extends to the class of 1903 a hearty vote of thanks for the charming and effective way in which the gymnasium was decorated. Laurel was everywhere, banked and festooned, relieved here and there by touches of red. The Oriental and Indian rooms were wonderfully attractive, and the cosy corners were all that could be desired. At 7.30 the reception by the Class President and Vice-President, Miss Freeman and Miss Childs, and the patronesses, took place, after which the dancing began. The orchestra was placed in the balcony, an arrangement which not only left the stage free for decoration, but allowed the music to be heard in all parts of the hall. The dancing, with only an occasional partner or little red program lost, continued until 11.30, when the orchestra hinted that home was sweet, and bade the ladies all good-night. No amount of persuasion being able to convince them to the contrary or induce them to postpone their adieux, the Junior Promenade was over. It is needless to ask if the juniors enjoyed it. And their guests? It is reported that one of them exclaimed: "This is ideal. I wish it might last a year!" While it is difficult to believe that the average masculine being is so attached to evening dress and dancing shoes that he would be willing to occupy them for a year, yet we feel convinced that no one of its guests regretted the four hours spent therein at the Promenade of the class of 1902. The committee in charge was: Blanche Hull, chairman; Elizabeth Macneil, Mabel Coulter, Katherine Harter, Mary Bohannan, Ruth French, and Winifred Dewing. The patronesses were: Mrs. H. M. Tyler, Mrs. R. C. Smith, Mrs. A. C. Egbert, Mrs. A. G. Tallant, Mrs. S. E. Devereux, Miss Hubbard, Miss Berenson, Miss Benton, Miss Barrows, Miss Woodruff. On the day following the Promenade, the juniors having guests were most kindly excused from attendance at their classes. SYBIL LAVINIA COX 1902. |