http://archive.oes.edu/files/original/40f877b3cb8cc02519cb5b59e674d489.pdf 4275e9ab1e2a1b05daec944434528c1e PDF Text Text ��; ' cu "Wvxo (?4a t / (i ' >. {fc ' » I' "• : t- ■ I ' & ’ sOpi^/ / • ‘vrr • m 4H >t4A* V /t/M/.- * 1 -•£> . ✓ / is r v iyV. v) .sOSt^ / -~-:i - m " JyCJ^I ^ *r {yrff'js ap^' ^' i>'..•mJ*. f i "* /? d/^ Of < ‘k* •^i. f#v£ _to M. m :) ojr al > , / TuT s/ \ �PRESS OF LANE-MILES STAND1SH CO. PORTLAND, OREGON �* am ..'V-r'i:' f ! i• ; §5>t. v y ®elpl)ic i. i- f N . i ■ L 1 ■ & mi ■ \ ■ ! Commencement 1922 !-'• I ■ m so t ‘ f ' ■ �Lblplttr §>tatf Editor-in-Chief Marion Farrell Literary Editor v . Helen Holmes Assistant Literary Editor Catherine Overbeck Kalendar j Philippa Sherman l Virginia Edwards Old Girl Notes Virginia Pittock ;■ jjtj Art -vl Exchanges & . ( Janet Griffith ( Elizabeth Holbrook Margaret Boyer Business Managers ( Leah Estelle Rose ) Margaret McAlister ,v i Advertising Managers "■V^j ! -c m ■:3 --’Tl . . ( Frances Cornell \ Helen Parker �JffAH fln*liiT»r '12 CONTENTS V Graduating 7-8-9 Editorials Literary . My Neighbor’s Garden The Gold Seekers Through the Eyes of a Loup Game You Never Can Tell . . 17 A Pack of Hounds The Will A Garden of Memory . 16 . 18 21 �,«S31 -."•rrr1 - fK ' 7; I - *r' '■ yti ;v?i! Si rjr-'i ..... '•-.-I The Delphic is published twice during the school year. Contributions are solicited from all the students. - V';! H • 1 -Si II r:. <£ ! ;s.s M < Literary communications should be addressed to the Editor-in-Chief. Business letters and subscriptions to the Business Manager. Subscription: $1.00 a year. VOL. 26 j '■ :o3 si . | - •; 1 * 'J _.:s -a S! s_ J 3*3 . .-j mm JUNE, 1922 No. 2 �" • rrr-. CSrafouaiing Gllaas nf 1922 . ? ■ - 5 ■ r ■ �mm uJlu> (graduating (Class uf 1922 . . «•' „J ! ■M n.T' t \ m : •: * •'-•.! 1 r; - m *••. • ; •■ -. -i ...... •■''! ra -'i ] ' ' -■■r: ' ■r '•’! •••■; I •^•Si :.-l 311 Annabelle Bates Harriet Breyman Helen Ernst Margaret Boyer Frances Cornell Marion Farrell Esther Benson Virginia Edwards Janet Griffeth �r ' ' �AW / V / (9 i w .-,1 'jV XI % >))£?(® jk) EBKNt _J :■**•! J i r ■■. m ■ SI : 1. ■ , . ■ ItH • W 3'5 iEbttoml NOBLESSE OBLIGE OBLESSE OBLIGE’ is the motto adopted three years ago by the class of 1922. With the aid of this inspiring motto, the class soon earned a reputation which has been held tenaciously. In the words, Noblesse Oblige, lies a rather vast and deep meaning, one which mere words cannot express as well as actions, To rise above all cowardice and to refrain from being a slacker in even the smallest degree is one v a) of heeding Noblesse Oblige.” In the days of chivalry, which seems to be dying so fast in modern life, the significance of the words were perhaps known to every one. When a man was knighted it was his duty, nay, more than his duty—it was a part of his very self: To break the heathen and uphold the Christ, To ride abroad redressing human wrong, To speak no slander, no, nor listen to it, To honor his own word as if his God’s, To lead sweet lives in purest chastity, To love one maiden only, cleave to her, And worship her by years of noble deeds.” Perhaps we may think of an ancient family coat-of-arms as a fair example. In old family estates, the coat-of-arms was everywhere conofthe‘USf h r6minded gr0winS s0ns ^d daughters of the noble deeds ers, and inspired them to live honorable and unselfish lives, that their families, as as their descendants, might be justly proud of them. «. s we remember our fathers, let our children remember us.” ■ fc i I 1 i ! i i �2B e l p u i c Or, let us consider ourselves as daughters of St. Helen’s Hall, carrying a torch bright and glowing. It has been handed down from generation to generation, always burning. At times, by some great catastrophe, it has been nearly extinguished; but by courage, faith, and steadfastness of purpose, it has been kept alight so that we have had an opportunity to share in its glory and to strive to do our part in maintaining its brightness. So have the helpful words. “Noblesse Oblige,” been an inspiration to us to do our best and to keep our reputation and actions beyond reproach! J- Last year, Bishop Sumner offered two Day Pupil Scholarships foi the Senior year to the two girls of the Junior class who passed the College Entrance Examinations in six points with the highest average. The scholarships were won by Catherine Overbeck and Helen Holmes. This year the Bishop offers a Day Pupil Scholarship for the Senior year to any girl in the Junior class who passes the highest in six points, and another for a Senior who passes the highest in six points in the Entrance Examinations in June and wishes to continue at the Hall for a year of post-graduate work in order to prepare for an Eastern college. The school also offers a prize of $100 to the Senior who passes the best College Entrance Examinations in enough points to meet the entrance requirements of a standard Eastern college. It is not necessary that the Senior enter an Eastern college. The scholarship and prize are surely worth working for and a number of girls are making special preparations for the scholarare �mm mr 2B c l p fj i c 12 - r I m ■ r'1 •V -a LITERARY \V;'i '-■s'. 5. , S3 si ■ S'v r;: SS--, TV ■ w. 3 1 y«* :j>£i -j T A' - •...n Isa u -j -i , -:r: ..... jl Edinburgh, November 14, 1786. To Mr. William Chalmers, Writer, Ayr. My Dear Friend: had intended writing you an entertaining letter, but though I am e e as an illustrious poet, and though winter’s clouds are banished > t e g are of fashionable London life, still I am not in a vein to write a humorous letter, even to you, whom I regard as a ‘‘man after mine own heart.” As )0u well know, I was ever ambitious of being well known. A wh.ie ago 1 should not have said so particularly as I now say, BY WHOM, . ^ 6 0 e ^nown- I veritably believe that good and learned men nj,„t rulSf aS Sat- !rue ^0ve concerning which I have so often, in times distnrh^H .urs.fd Wlt^ you- The other morning at breakfast I was much never nnrl° hef f Cl3yman abuse Gray’s “Elegy.” This person had Datienre tie, ^legy.” \ fear I made a hasty remark, but my Gienmvin o’ m SOre*y Lied. However, the friendship of Lord measure fn/t-h^6 3S that °f his wo.rthy Lady, compensates, in some obiect of wnnri G anryLance.I suffer in having to converse and be the wonder of rmS" S0se *8n°ble souls who can scarce rise above the comes of “q,,! extraordinary” and “marvelous success,” for one who I could wish thflf ami and <1S Possessed of so poor an education.” a few minutes of^V^ W°Uld Spend’ with my volume of verse’ salons in honor of rV:im® whlch thfy sPend in arranging dinners and ■ d. ror many, I would especially mark verses, as: �■;^ws fr - v.- iB 11 pt it 13 H^/i r - l “What though on hamely fare we dine Wear hodden gray, and a’ that; Gie fools their silks and knaves their wine, A man’s a man for a’ that. For a’ that and a’ that, Their tinsel show and a’ that, The honest man tho’ ne’er sae poor Is king o’ men for a’ that.” I say within me, “Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate you!’’ My Lord’s generosity and kindness every day give me new evidence of his nobility. He himself is a greater proof of the immortality of the soul than all the philosophy of all the philosophers; such a mind as his can never die. '‘The lesser ones are bits of undeveloped chaos, some with a little sulphur even yet, and may go back to dust, whence they came.’’ My dear Chalmers, you are receiving a most dismal letter. Charity, that greatest of all virtues, is not mine tonight. Even now I can hear the howling of winds, and dark foreboding tells me that my season in the sunshine is to be but brief as is the summer. 1 have no abiding place in this life. I am but a simple bard who can amuse but a short hour or two. “What proves the hero truly great Is never to despair!” But come— I must enjoy the light while I have it. Jane, the Duchess of Gordon, is more fascinating than I ever dreamed a woman could be, and I have dreamed them loveliest of all created things. Beautiful of face and form, graceful of movement, charming in manner, she pos­ sesses as keen an intellect as any man I have ever seen. Her conversa­ tion delights me beyond all words. I had indeed missed the half of my life had I not come up here to Edinburgh. She is as perfect as Miltons Eve in Paradise. I wonder if there is any other living thing that can approach her. I have seen but one. However, Lord Monboddo’s daughter is a very pleasing young person, full of wit and gayety. I find her quite charming to behold, when I must sit and listen to my Lord s, her father’s, philosophy. By the by I have forgotten to tell you of the strange episode which occurred at Ballochmyle before I left Mossgeil. One evening during my sojourn with the Laird, I chanced to be strolling along the banks or the Ayr, the favorite haunt of my muse, The crimson sun was just vanishing beyond the horizon; not a breath of air stirred to flutter the leaves or bend the stems of the flowers; the only sound was the song of the Mavis, settling to rest, which I endeavored to avoid, lest I dis- . : . p._.. jg-.. '• �W:- . \ ;c ‘W■ 14 /.;; 3S! T-TM i '■< i I $ © e l p ij t c turb the harmony, Thus lingering along the river, I came upon one of the fairest sights I have ever seen—a woman, indeed a fairy queen, as delicate and perfect as any poet’s fancy could describe. But the vision disappeared from before my eyes. On my return home I composed the song, “0 Lass of Ballochmyle,” a copy of which I will enclose. Later, I discovered that the vision was the Laird’s sister, Miss Alexander. I have written her, begging pardon for the intrusion, and sending her a copy of my song. She has not favored me with a letter. I wait in anxiety. You, my dear fellow, will further my anxiety if you delay your letter to me. Therefore, have mercy and love for your friend, Robert Burns. L. E. R., ’22. v illy Nnyhluir’s darhnt til . n' ' :■ ' ■ "' ■*.■; : V' -3 233 ' 13 ! : 1 ■ i||JJ Y neighbor's garden is a delightful spot. When 1 peep through the hedge, 1 look into a fairyland ablaze with color. The tall holly­ hocks along the wall and the blue flower lances of the delphiniums stand on guard and raise their heads to spy upon any trespassers. The gladioli smile on everything, and watch the mischievous pansies as they crowd each other out of their bed. The masses of golden glow lean heavily on their supports. The real fairies of the garden plot are the feathery cosmos that dance lightly in the breeze. The phlox and fox­ gloves stand in waiting upon the fairies, and the sweet elyseum, candy tuft and mignonette are fair maids. The canterbury bells fill the air with music, and the honeysuckle furnishes an abundance of sweet syrup for the winged visitors which it attracts to the garden by its fra­ grance. A playing fountain surrounded by a mossy carpet and a fringe of forget-me-nots is the resting place for several little birds. Once in a while, if I am very still, I see a hummingbird hovering over it. On eithqr side of the ivy-covered gate are clumps of columbine, that look i e beds of blue and white butterflies in the gentle breeze. Silky poppies ance around them, while the stately foxgloves gaze down with majestic pride upon their humble companions. Under a low apple tree, spread over one. end of the garden, and interwoven with a climbing rambler, is a rustic bench. Often my neighbor, a dainty, little, old lady, may e seen seated on this bench. Perhaps her wistful expression is caused y reams of her knight, who came to see her in years that are past, f . ^ neig or s §arden spot is a fairyland from early spring, when the . r; .r<?Ps aPPear> until the last asters and goldenrod fade in the for I KAr lke^° Peep through the hedge when no one is in the garden, undpr^onlfu? tlie fairies talk to each other there, and sometimes I to each oth 6 Smi ing and noddmg messages they send across the garden Cr‘ F. E R., ’22. B. A., ’23. f �20 e l p Ij t c (Hite (gnlii iwkrrs ®l|rmigh tl|£ of a ifoup (Sam w HE Yukon District had been in winter’s grip for months now, and even the animals were becoming restless, looking for the change which would bring the first signs of Spring. The great black wolf, which had been the leader of the pack for many seasons, shook his heavy coat and started off across the crust of pale blue snow. Even the pine trees cracked like guns as he trotted through the wilderness to his favorite drinking place. He was happy today, for his instinct told him that before night the Chinook would reach the frozen Northland. Even at that moment he felt its warm breath on his pointed muzzle. But his keen scent caught something that was not that of the Chinook. It was something he had never scented before, something which gave him a thrill like that which he felt before he encountered the great lynx. Unconsciously rounding a high cliff, a strange sight met his eye. He stopped short and looked curiously at what was going on at his drinking hole. There arose a column of smoke from a fire by which sat two enemies. He instinctively knew they were enemies, and he felt a strange sense of fear which he had never known before. He shrank away from the sight, but some strange animal curiosity each time drew him a little closer to the tiny camp. After darkness fell and the fire died down sufficiently to give him courage, he investigated the new aspect of his old drinking hole. r';', : fT, ■ m A long wooden cradle was filled with tiny gold sands which he had always noticed floating in the little stream. On hearing the howl of a husky, he rejoined the pack to make known his discovery. It was several evenings before he again summoned courage to revisit the old hole and at his heels followed some of the more daring of the pack. g. _ The scene that met their eyes was a typical one of the gold rush The boats had just broken through the ice, which had held them fast all winter. Men, gone mad in the lust for gold, were erecting over night saloons, dance halls and dwellings. Everywhere was a frenzy of excite­ ment and clamor. As the pack skirted a little nearer to the strange sight, an iron jaw closed on the forefoot of the leader. With a low cry of pain he gave warning to his pack that they must leave their old hunting grounds and go far back into the frozen tundras. All night he lay there in pain and heard the cry of his comrades becoming fainter in the dis­ tance. At dawn he was released by one of the strange humans and was the first wolf to experience the ways of the white man. L.L:: m #1 : . Helen Ernst, ’22. i V. 13 *.v*r assess . ...- - . ... ■ �V m-W~- ; 16 Be Ipfttc m Imt Nmtrr (Eau (Erll » . i n » ■i ~'vj : S! -3 i x - L/'i.-i;::! ^7":. \ :- sa r?. if: v,-^2 -i ■ '•si T was the first evening of their search, and as they descended the hill into the great wilderness of pine and fir, neither horse nor rider was thinking or worrying over the coining of the night. The rider was a mere boy, a few years past twenty, but a man in all other respects. He was an athlete, and though Inspector of Division Seven of the Royal Mounted Police, this did not affect him at all. He was a sport and played all the games with his men, most of whom were several years his seniors, and won their favor. At Fort McMurry, the morning before, a letter had been delivered to him addressed to Inspector Robert Keel, R. N. W. M. P., with instructions to continue the search for Betty Davidson, a young girl who had been mysteriously missing for some time. No one could account for her disappearance or even suggest when it had happened, so there was very little evidence on which to work. . ■ 3 a Bob was thinking of this very seriously when—“What was that?” Laddy, his well trained pet and companion, stopped still and alert. Yes indeed, it was a woman’s voice singing that old familiar Canadian boat song. He called. There was no answer, but the singing continued. He tried to follow it, but it led to no place—behind him, in front of him, to his left, to his right. The sound seemed to come from the heart of that giant stump, but that was impossible. He was tricked. Would it never stop? He wished he would fall out of bed and wake up, but it was no dream. There was that singing, and where, oh, where did the confounded song come from? Who was singing? Where? Why? Inspector Keel was puzzled. He decided to camp there for the night and find out. He made a search, but all in vain, and settled himself for the night. Lying back on his blanket, he remembered that this dis­ trict was under Inspector Gray. Funny he had not come across any of his men. Then—yes—Dick Hutchinson was under Gray—good ol’ Dick— though only a buck, he was an old college pal. Dick lately—oh, well, what had happened to the singer? Gray wasn’t a bad sort. Who was this Betty Davidson, anyway? Then he dozed. He was awake in a minute, and just in time to see two figures dis­ appear around that giant stump! “Halt in the name of the law!’’ he called, but they were hidden by the s ump so he didn’t know whether they did or not. Around the stump ne rushed and bumped into Dick Hutchinson. He was standing in the opening of that giant stump. “Hello, foolish, you jolly well scared me pink,” was the greeting, as the two pounded each other on the back. �m 11 p 1J t C “Well, if it isn t ol Dick! I was just thinking of you a minute ago But the woman, the singer—who and where is she?” Hutchinson smiled. “You’ve caught me, old pal,” he said. “I'll have to own up. She is my wife and, of course, being in the service, I should not be married, so we pulled it off secretly, an’ this ol’ stump’s our home. It’s not so bad, and my wife—well, she is Betty Davidson!” Bob was unable to pull his thoughts together, and all he was capable of was a good hearty laugh and a friendly congratulation. Later he found out that Bob’s wife was worth the hunt, and that the stump as a home was certainly “not so bad.” The following morning he was riding toward Fort McMurry, bearer of a marriage certificate and a letter to Inspector Gray with the signatures of Dick and Betty Hutchinson closing it. As he went up the steps of the main office he was whistling. Suddenly he remembered that he was on duty. Why, oh, why, did he whistle that song? Julie Cameron, ’25. A f ark of ©imubjs NE afternoon, when I was visiting my uncle in England, I went to Squire Bogs’ to tea. The estate and manor house of . Squire Bogs was very old—indeed. I have been told that the house itself was built four hundred years ago. Therefore, on account of its age and picturesque­ ness. I was very much interested in the architecture and furnishings, especially in the old morning room, where Mrs. Bogs and l had tea Between discussions of free verse and modern art, I carefully scrutinized the beautiful paneling of oak and the quaint Rembrandt portraits which hung on the wall. Soon, however, my gaze was attracted to the long Gothic windows at the end of the room which looked out onto the park, stretching in a smooth green sward to a border of gigantic oaks. While I was gazing at this entrancing scene, I suddenly saw a pack of hounds, in full cry, dash across the park, as if in close pursuit of some game. The quaintness of this scene made me jump up and, running to the window, cry, “Oh, how lovely! There must be a hunt on, because there are the hounds.” . , , “What did you see?” demanded Mrs. Bogs, in such a strained voice that I turned toward her quickly. She was standing, her face livid, and her calm eyes now filled with a sudden horror. ^ “Why,” said I, in surprise, “the hounds. Didn’t you see them . “No,” she said, sinking back into her chair; “I saw nothing. I was surprised at her singular behavior, but through_asense^of deli­ cacy did not pursue the subject, and as she seemed suddenly fatigued relieving in part my surprise, increased my wonder. �' : >• 18 3 i * ... -1 1 JBclpf) it “My Dear Susan: You are, perhaps, wondering over my sudden illness yesterday. 1 will, now that I am more calm, though no less anxious, endeavor to state certain facts, although I cannot attempt to explain them. This house, in which we still live, was built by my ancestor, Clement Bogs, several centuries ago. But soon after he had settled here, he was thrown from his horse while hunting and instantly killed. It has been said that a young girl, crossing the park a few hours before the accident, saw a pack of hounds cross the lawn with no hunters behind them. From that time it has been a tradition that before a death in the family some­ one who is no relation to us will see a ghostly pack of hounds cross the sward in full cry, unseen by anyone else. In view of this you will understand my present state of anxiety and surprise, as this amazing prophecy has already occurred twice during my life, in the events of the deaths of my mother and my brother.” Even after receiving this note I gave little credence to the tale, till the next day I read with amazement the account of Squire Bogs’ sudden death, caused, as the paper said, by a fall from his horse while pursuing his favorite sport, fox hunting. Jean Muir, ’23. <-* d tlihr Util IBS :3 ' : • % 3 m1 •: : ■ • - 1 . .-ri -•'V. .71 : fsl ssrc&i jJ PADDLED my canoe out into the middle of the lake and stopped, gazing into the waters around me. There, without glancing up, I beheld a scene reflected in the clear, blue lake. Overhead was the sky, its long expanse unmarred by clouds. Huge mountains overhung the edge of the lake on all sides but one, giving the glistening sheet of water the appearance of a primeval throne. The lake was placid enough to have been a mirror, but as I touched my paddle to the water, a tremor shook its surface, sending countless little ripples undulating toward the S SUU’ dr0PP*n& behind the mountains, cast the soft glow of twilight over the whole scene and gave the final touch of glory to this wonder, untouched by man. Rousing myself from reverie, I remembered that I had had a definite object in view when I pushed the canoe I had found, off the shore. I was a ung a short cut across the lake to the hotel, which I could not, at most, reac until after dark. This was to be my last hike, for the next day the Tand^^E)1 ^°me’ ^rom w^at had been an unforgetable vacation in . • ^ last 1reached the opposite shore and pulled the appropriated canoe TA w?n 6 dank' I then began the last stretch of my homeward walk. nn^jLr Steep and Ied P^cipitously up the mountain side, turning rnw anri a y 6Very now an^ then. For the most part, the path was narsmnn?hdjHngi.er0US' T" °ne Side a wal1 of so!id rock rose like §lass’ water itc h .s,ini.n£' On the other hand was a cliff overhanging the arer, its height increasing at every step I took. However, fear did not < �M elpf) tc enter my mind once and I continued my course in an entirely carefree manner. Again the thought of my approaching departure assailed me with a poignant pang. How exhilarating it all was! I should miss it all indeed. Yes, I should miss every bit of it! Suddenly a half-formed word of slang came to my lips, but I pressed it back, unspoken. I stopped. A part of my path had been swept down by a landslide, leaving a space of about six feet. There was nothing except loose stones on which to set my feet. My first attempted step but served to set the mass rolling downward. This had happened recently, 1 thought, for although 1 had that morning taken the longer route, 1 had come this way only a few days before. But here 1 was" stranded, and with every moment the violet dusk grew deeper. There was a path a little way back that led up the mountain. I had only noticed it at the time, in passing, wondering where it led. At least, 1 might try it; it was too late to take the other trail and anything was preferable to a night on the damp ground. I had gauged my distance well, for at the end of the ten minutes 1 had allotted myself, I came upon the object of my search. The passageway, for it was almost too narrow to be called a path, seemed to have been cut into the rock, and led upwards about twenty feet. Once more on the soft earth, the trail widened and 1 walked on, half running in my haste. Not for a comparatively long time did I notice the peculiar tinge that shed its ghastly light everywhere. Instinctively 1 looked up at the sky, where without any warning a blinding light flashed and the next moment torrents of rain came down upon me. With the I was downfall of rain came darkness that kept me from going on Another flash of lightning seemed to come indeed trapped miserably. Yet that could not be, for the light remained from among the trees. flickering steadily. My fates were surely favorable and, like Columbus, I cried, “A light! A light!” with as much, if not more joy, and hastened rain had brought with it a terrible on against the driving elements, for the wind. Trees would present themselves in the way of my mad rush but aside from a few painful bruises, 1 cared little and by s eer , . light to the door of the cabin, or whatever it was that held the kindly light The oil lamp was placed in the window, and I thought it best_to see who or what occupied this remote habitation before I asked or shelter. At first 1 saw no one; then, as my eyes grew accustomed to the dim His white head was outlines, I saw a man seated by the coals or a So far as bent forward in his hands, giving him a furnished room. I could judge he was the only occupant knocks. No one answered. I turned to the door and gave seveo'na11 S^erppersistent downfall and the 1 knocked again, louder. Again I was by this time thoroughly drenched, howling of the wind greeted me. I tried the door. It yielded to my and determined to obtain shelter. �p" •:;i 20 . J 3 ■ • I .. ' i -j ■: v V • ...5 - •. 1 . mm Mi * £3 i 30 e l p lj i c touch and swung open. The man was still seated by the fire and had not moved from the position in which I first had seen him. I went over to him and touched his arm. It fell helplessly to his side and the bowed head fell lower. An icy chill ran through my body at the thought that he might be dead. What a ghastly adventure! With a last faint hope I felt his pulse. He lived. Then I recalled a story told me by the hotel manager. Surely this must be the “man of mystery” who had lived in these woods for forty years, Such a name was given him because he had told no one who he was or why he had come to this remote place. He was only seen at rare intervals when he went to the general store for his provisions. I stood looking at him stupidly. Finally I moved him to a couch that lay nearby. I knew that the end was near, but 1 prayed that he might sx least open his eyes before he died. My prayers were answered, for after what seemed an eternity his eyelids quivered and opened, revealing a pair of piercing blue eyes, unblurred by age. He seemed to show no astonishment at the presence of another man, but merely tried to point his hand toward a table in the middle of the room. Then he shuddered convulsively, and was still. Reverently, I removed my cap. I could not possibly leave till morning, so I set myself to search the table for anything of interest it might hold. Yes, there was a paper upon it, written in a wavering hand. I picked it up, and at the sight of the first few lines I think I must have paled a little. The paper read: “I, John Fairfax, realizing that I have only a few more hours to live, make known to whosoever shall read that my will, duly sworn to and witnessed, may be found in the recess above the mantel, together with sundry papers”— The writing trailed off into an illegible scrawl, but that was enough. John Fairfax—the man who had killed my grandfather in a duel—the man who had disappeared mysteriously from his home in Virginia. To think that I, the namesake of Charles Lee, should meet my grandfather’s mortal enemy in such a way. I wondered what possessions the man had and to whom he could give them, he who had spent so much of his life in solitude. I turned to the chimney, and after trying all the bricks 1 came upon one that was loose. I removed it and pushed my arm in, bringing out a handful of papers. I easily singled out the will, which was encased in a plain envelope, on which was written, “The last will and testament of John Fairfax.” What was my amazement when I found, after the first formalities, the clause, “I do give and bequeath the whole of my fortune, consisting of about two millions of dollars, to the heir or heirs of Charles Lee—” No need to read further, for was not I the only living heir of Charles Lee? C. L. 0.. ’22. �i •C" M elpfj tc A (Saritett of Memory £LOME people have said that my acts and thoughts are guided because I never make mistakes, although I am very young, In a measure they are correct, but they never imagine that it is my memory that is my ouide. 1 say my memory, but I do not really mean my memory. It is more the thought of a dim dream of the past. It is a rather difficult thing to explain, because it is all very misty to me, but 1 will try, if you will attempt to understand. Once long ago there was a garden way out from the rest of the world; at least. I thought that it was, for no sounds or noises ever reached it. It was on the edge of a dense grove of trees and extended a little way into ua large green field beyond, 1 could tell this because over one side of the high white wall that surrounded it could be seen the tops of stately fir and oak trees; and on the other side nothing but blue sky, and once in a while bits of down from a ripe thistle, or a bumblebee, very dis­ tressed because it was so high in the air and far away from the fascinating blossoms below. In this garden I lived for a length of time, I have no idea how long, but I did not have the form that I have today. Then I was a flower. I probably would be called Daffodil today, but then I was called Uncer­ tainty. All the flowers were the same in shape as they are today, but they were called by different names. (To connect them with my present life I will call them by their old names and put their present names after them.) r ;• • f/T.--'-- sSHSSSSeI lived a true, tragic or happy life, just as people of today, and from them 1 received my guiding dream. I was Uncertainty Daffodil, a new and strange person to the world, and 1 was looking for the good and happy way to live my hte 1 came up through the warm earth and first met Youthful Gladness orCnm She was my best friend for a little while, but soon die died and 11 was left to make new friends. While she was alive I had met many people among whom were Mirth Wild Grape, Ambition Hollyhock, Music Oats, Amiability Jasmine, and Riches Buttercup. These had all been happy, all sides from Slander cheerful companions, but now I was in danger on flowers Nettle, Jealousy Marigold, Deceit Monk s Hood, and their tribe of flo . 1 had many bitter experiences with these flowers and I might have been killed, but Encouragement Goldenrod, Hope Hawthorne and them won derful friends came to me and helped me on to Peace After that I staved on with Peaceand my lifebecame very happy, Atter tnat 1 sta>eu uii wi parden A young man came until one day it was changed and I lett g flowers over our high white wall and gathered abouquet of all the love flowers < • i.rVy £.. .., I \:r~A pp. �■J •VI 22 ©elpfjic ! - y. m >:* .] 3 3 and good flowers in the garden. He took my stem to tie them together and then went over the wall to the outer world. He went to a great white house, where he found a lady and a little baby. He gave the bouquet to the baby and told the mother what the flowers all meant. He said that they were to compose the baby’s character and then I seemed to leave my flower form and go to the child. From that time I have seemed one with the baby, but I still have my dream to guide my new life. Dorothy Haradon, ’23. $ .* .. - -i . Vj •-.i! “When birds do sing hey-ding-a-ding-ding Sweet lovers love the spring.” % . ?'! 4 V I , i ■V- .«• ;-ry. 33 ’v3 m 77f HE next thing to being in love for a spring-time recreation is having a garden. Whether you are old and sage or young and giddy, come out into the garden and you will find health, wealth, love, wisdom or anything for which you may chance to be searching. You, tired busi­ ness man, with your furrowed brow, and, you, woman of numberless household cares, bring the hoe and spade, the rake and the trowel again into the light of day, brush off the dust and enter a new world. The Out-of-Doors is garbing herself in new robes. Will you fail to behold the transformation? Hasten! Take a smell of fragrant brown earth and you will have discovered a source of everlasting youth. Do not, as some have done, direct your man-servant or maid-servant to gather one pan of the best soil in your garden and carefully transport it to your bed­ chamber that you may satisfy your curious nose as you tranquilly lie among the pillows. Slip your delicate feet into a pair of heavy boots, for the dew is heavy of mornings, and step into the sunshine at six o’clock of an April day. You will declare that you knew not such a world existed. \\ hen you have spaded and hoed, when you have dark, very dark, spots on oth your knees and your hands are of the same complexion,you will,if you are of a questionable age, remember nothing but the joy of living and perhaps some of the half-forgotten delight and simplicity of childhood will have crept ,into your wise old heart. If you are but yet young in . yuars’ y.°“may have Partaken of the wisdom of Timeless Nature. One thing will he certain. You will clean your tools, scrape the mud off your shoes, and dress for breakfast; and while you are in the midst of this once almost useless, now entirely necessary, meal, you will say to yourself, or to he One across the table: ‘'My dear, this is certainly the best break­ fast we ve had for a month And your table partner will marvel at the ever increasing wonders of the world, or else you will think to yourself what an amiable, happy being you are—at times. L. E. R., ’22. . . . - ■■ ■ ■ < V‘ �© e l p fj t c (1% Utarg of flnt&me j^nrupleo February 16, 1707. Such actions! Who would believe that I, Prudence Scruples, should live to see them? Lack-a-day, if they go on I’ll not be here to help old Mrs Crumber with her patch work, come two weeks. Here 1 have lived in Boston, in this old house, for well nigh forty years (though if it be not worldly to speak so, no one could tell it by my face) and in that time mark thee, there’s been no men poking their good-for-nothing noses around this place! That I should live to see such a day! Well, well, as good Parson Cursem says, we must have patience under our afflictions. But that terrible little flibber-tigibet Conscience was such an affliction that I could not have patience long. The minute she came in the door, I knew she was wicked, Faith, I was sitting talking by the window, watching Mrs. Grootch hang out the clothes, when in my niece came rushing and literally pounced on me crying: “Oh, Auntie, I’ve come to live with thee.” And when I turned and saw her, 1 well nigh fainted. Such a flyaway with dozens of black curls tossed madly over^ her head (she never kept them still) and then her stepping in Tabby s milk, »nd 'aughing a saying, "Oh, Auntie, won t thee come and see? 1 ve spilt Tabby s milk and it looketh just like old Cursem’s bald head! Still it’s all my fault. 1 should have known there would be some doings goin° on if 1 d thought, and I should never have sent her to Neigh- *« »2" •—™*r it'*,1; ™4t. ‘s.:s just hankerin’ to be gone and girl. And this is what comes of all my indulgence. '■Conscience,” says 1, "take thy hemming and finish thy row, before thee goes for Neighbor Barkem s bread. So out she went, her hair all curls Heaven forgiveand sat hersel beneath a tree to sew. She thought 1 was gone t0 ™'k^eT ^’ot ten minutes passed before that Such a thing has never hapthe road and leaned against my gate-post. his hip, whistling and the other Pened before. Well, there he_ stood one hand on^ kjnd and, Bless Me! Conscience moved over on the bench. ‘ ; more, but thrusting my head from the wmdow, shrieked, Consc.en Conscience packing home, despite her That was all, but I sent that convinced are gifts of Satan. tears and tossing of curls, which I am Jean Muir, ’24. �mm 24 S e l p \) t c u4)f #tortj of Eguitna, (Mmttatfon j * aH -*'! a a ■ ,-i •• 'V ■: -\d i .. ~tn ■ •' -■ mm :" ' DEMAND the ordeal! Into the hands of God I commit my soul. He alone can attest my innocence!” The clear, steady voice rang out. Egwina, fair of face and form, stood with flashing eyes before the elderman and gerefa of the shire. A murmur of approval surged over the crowd, for surely, unless innocent, she would not dare appeal to the Supreme Judge. Egwina had once been skald, or gleemaiden, to King Alfred, but because of her love for Edward, the atheling, she had secretly stolen away one night, fearing lest the king should think her unworthy of his son. She had wandered from the mead hall of one great thegne to another for many days, making glee, and pleasing all with her sweet voice and simple manner. In the hall of one, Edwy the thegne, there had been a certain juggler who was jealous of the maid, and the many rich gifts showered upon her. He contrived, as Egwina was leaving the great hall, to have the harp of Oswald, the favorite bard, put amongst her posses­ sions. Later, she was pursued and accused of the theft of the harp. Being alone and friendless, she was immediately taken to the elderman for trial. ‘‘Then,” said the elderman, after Egwina’s appeal, ‘‘thou shalt to the Bishop to purify thyself for the rite. Let nothing but bread and salt, water and herbs pass thy lips. After three days, thou shalt return here, and in the presence of twelve witnesses plunge thine arm into boiling water, taking from it a heated stone. May God be your judge. I have said.” 3 Egwina, at the end of her trial and ordeal, was proven innocent; and the guilty man was condemned and sentenced to make a pilgrimage, barefoot, to the shrines of four saints. Egwina remained at the home of the kind Bishop Beoruwulf and his wife, who soon grew to love her She was very happy with them and took up little household duties with the greatest pleasure, for she was weary of wandering. The young girl was accustomed, after her work was finished, to wander about the woodlands. One day, having strayed farther than was her wont, she sank down on the green sward to rest. She had been seated there but a short time when she heard voices, and through the trees she could distinguish the figures of two persons. One was a young and beautiful girl, a Dane, and the other appeared to be a Saxon youth. Ihe Danish maiden did not seem very strong and, wishing to rest, sat down beneath the tree under which Egwina sat. They soon became engaged in conversation. Egwina learned that the girl was Hilda, daughter of Guthrum, king of the conquered Danes. Seigbert, the Saxon youti, had been taken when a boy, she learned, from a monastery by the invading horde of the Danes. He had been brought up with Hilda and learned to love her as a brother. As she sat there and watched him, �j& e l p i) t c t there arose, in Egwina, a great longing to be of some kin to this noble youth; she felt a strange stirring in her heart as half-forgotten memories wedged themselves into her mind. They talked of many things, of St Cuthbert, the holy Bishop of Lindisfarne, of the many miracles that had been wrought by his tomb, of the conversion of Guthrum by King Alfred, and lastly about the loved king himself and his love and devo­ tion for his people. When it became dusk they all agreed to meet again the following day in the woodlands, Egwina returned home with a new feeling of joy and lightness, The next day, at the appointed hour, Egwina was waiting in the forest when Seigbert arrived, alone. “Hilda feels not herself today, but I would talk more with thee,” he explained to Egwina. As the two walked through the forest together, Seigbert told of his father and grandfather, who had both been wandering bards, and of his sister, whom he had never seen since his capture. With eager eyes and beating heart, Egwina questioned hiim: ‘'What was the name of thy father?” • Athelwulf, son of Wulfhere.” “And the monastery thou speakest of, was it not Croyland?” “Yes,” he answered, scrutinizing her closely. “Then 1 ” she began. "At last! You are my sister!" he exclaimed rapturously, as they embraced amidst tears. H. H., ’22. (Eta Ifitstorg I 7TT HE history of the class of ’22 began as far back as 1910 when sev W eral little girls in fluffy frocks went to Miss f^^^Tmure on Lucretia street. Among these were bashful He!I|" then in Peggy Boyer and our present class presiden , |ar these short socks and pink and white *Veventfui seven-year course three small misses entered upon a happy Hal\ in the second in grammar school, and they chose S^Helen^ Hall. ^ ^ grade another little miss, Helen H , J and ades passed upheld the honor of the second gr • leavina only their names slowly on, while new friends came went, Jeaving o^ Helen behind. However, the sixth gra ^ secretafy and treaSurer, but Van de Water, who n0'v is n^ {^ss A few months later our select also the youngest member of th 1 ‘ yj inia Pittock in our midst. number was increased to rive, & f ' r I £5 •'•v. ; !■ .. . r.vr. : ..V. ! ••. ' •. *.* �fr w:~' 26 IB e (p fj I c V -i .1 -.tfi •••i'V H rj % '•i d 1 i a ■ ■! ■ • • % •'! •iv/WS mm ’ -* ..Tsa :"::5 rl i"‘- ~ r |3! "Hgi - The end of the following year we had actually graduated from the lower school and were ready to take up our high school education in the new building at Thirteenth and Hall. You see, the terrible fire of 1914, which destroyed the ivy-decked buildings on Vista avenue, compelled us to use only temporary buildings, which we soon outgrew. It was in our Freshman year, however, that we made ourselves famous. We were proud not only of our position in life, but of many other things. Some promising members were heartily welcomed. Among them were Medora Howard, Marguerite Pendergrass, Philippa Sherman, Catherine Overbeck and Margaret McAlister. At the beginning of the second term Marion Farrell joined us, and Virginia Edwards came as a boarder. During that year two prizes were offered for the best essay on “Noblesse Oblige.” To our great delight, both of these were won by members of our class, Virginia Pittock and Marion Farrell. Our success as interpreters of Homer completed our first year with great honor. The following Fall we all returned proud to bear the name of sophomores, and added Char­ lotte Malboeuf, Muriel Withers, Harriett Walters and Annabelle Bates to our number. School life for sophomores we found to be one trial after another, simply because we were neither Freshmen nor Juniors. Allow­ ances are always made for the former and extra privileges always being granted the latter. However, the year passed almost before we could realize it. In our Junior year eight more members were added to our class, Janet Griffith, Esther Benson, Frances Hyland, Leah and Frances Rose, Frances Cornell, Helen Parker, Elizabeth Holbrook and Catharine Hay, who, although she had attended the Hall, had not until the Junior year been enrolled in the class of ’22. All through the Junior year the girls prepared themselves for the responsibility the class would have to shoulder the next year. In June we entertained in a most delightful man­ ner at a luncheon at the Waverly Country Club for the graduating class of the year. Of course, this last Senior year has been an eventful one in every way, and perhaps more so than usual. Now, to distinguish the class even more, we are going out the largest class ever graduated from the Hall. Jj * J �©tlpfttc Oil)? (Elasa Mill THE LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT OF THE CLASS OF 1922 Be it known that: I, Annabelle Bates, leave my curly bobbed hair to Edna Ellen Bell. I, Esther Benson, leave my smile to Virginia Hull. A I, Margaret Boyer, leave my speaking voice to Doris Thompson. f 1, Frances Cornell, leave my ability to talk to Virginia Fenton. I, Helen Ernst, leave my dry humor to Roberta Douty. 1, Marion Farrell, leave my honorable position of editor-in-chief to anyone who will accept that worthy state. I, Janet Griffith, leave my poise to Lillian Luders. I, Medora Howard, leave my good nature to Edna Potter, l' Catharine Hay, leave my position as school songstress to Dorothea Scarborough. I, Muriel Withers, leave my ability to play the piano to Gertrude Ireland. . . Thu.DuxUn&***> I, Harriette Walters, leave my highly developed powers of retaining order in the study hall to Elizabeth Hawkinson. i I Virginia Pittock, leave my reserve to Frances Ford. I Hefen Van de Water, leave my love For study to Catherine Martin. L Helen Parker, leave my love of homes to Hazetaary Pnce. I, Leah Rose, leave my executive ability to Izabel Schetky. 1, Frances Rose, leave my quiet disposition to Bess; A . 1, Helen Holmes, leave my “Pollyanna Philosophy to Martha Youlden. of athletics to Eleanor Costello. 1, Frances Hyland, leave my love 1, Philippa She,maa. leave m» io've of i.rdi.e. to !; teZgSK&SSSSa5 S. sea,, eias. » } Anne Wentworth. my love for Terpsichorean Art to Dorothy I, Elizabeth Holbrook, leave Haradon. absent-mindedness to Peggy Spencer, I, Virginia Edwards, leave my love (?) of ancient history to I, Marguerite Pendergrass, leave my any future history student. , prances Weller. f the Senior I, Charlotte Malboeuf, leave my physics^note Catherine Overbeck, leave my position as chairman L Council to someone with tact. (Signed) Marion Farrell. Witnesses: Helen Holmes. Catherine Overbeck. �WMf: w 28 Selpfjic udu' Class flnipljmj ■:->-‘i JUST heard about your home down here, Harriette, and I thought I’d run down and see what you were doing. I had no idea I’d come across an old schoolmate of mine,” said Philippa Sherman, wellknown society reporter, as she climbed out of her periwinkle blue Per­ shing airplane and ran up the stairs to the terrace, where Harriette Walters James sat chatting with her old chum, Muriel Withers, more familiarly known as Peg. "How fortunate you decided to come,” greeted Harriette. "My hus­ band has just purchased Poplar Lawns and I am giving the house­ warming today to open the summer season.” After general embracing and much excited talk, Philippa settled comfortably for a glass of refreshing iced tea. It’s heavenly here, after the busy season at Palm Beach and New­ port; but, tell me, what have you been doing all these years, Peg?” "Composing music, from soft say-it-with-flowers kind that accompanies the heroine's tears, or a love scene, to the rollicking, snappy, crashing jazz of a chorus. Oh, yes, I’m living in realms of musical comedies now,” laughed Peg, snapping her fingers. "So you've become what we all thought you would, a musical comedy composer!” Philippa exclaimed. "It’s nearly time for dinner, so let’s adjourn to my room and chat there,” suggested Harriette, rising. The girls willingly followed her into the spacious hall of the huge house. Just inside the door Philippa’s observing eyes were attracted by an unfurnished room at the end of the hall. "Oh, is that the famous radio room of Poplar Lawns?” asked Phil­ ippa, eagerly. "Yes,” answered Harriette, "and that reminds me that I received notes from some of the girls to listen in for them tonight.” "Let’s go in at once, and maybe we’ll hear some of them now,” said Peg, running to the room. Quickly they adjusted the amplifier and almost immediately they heard the voice of Charlotte Malboeuf, head of the Crow Institute of Home­ less Cats, in San Francisco. Yes,” S^e was sa^n§’ will be all, two tons of catnep in the bale. There was no doubt; it was the same voice that once graced the halls of St. Helen’s. By some fault of the radio connection, the phone clicked and they heard another voice—a lovely singing voice. They discovered it was the voice of Madam Morelli, practicing for a concert over the radio. 3 •; ,31 i l - "1 v-S mm V \ : ;i i . —*] .• ■ i 'i ipij : J I 5 r:i ■ '•V- -’i 1 IK.-* - T"- -' — vXSTwt S-. 55- c . -J �IB e l p ij i c Girls, listen to this—Madame Morelli, nothing! This is Catharine Hay’s voice! There is no mistaking that voice, Philippa. I only wish we might hear Kay laugh again.” They listened entranced, until the lovely voice died away. Then the announcement of dinner forced them to withdraw, reluctantly. A few hours later found them again seated in the radio room, talking. Their conversation was interrupted, for a current was being sent to the house. It proved to be the returns of the Kentucky Derby that Harriette had been calling. Helen Parker, our acknowledged horsewoman, was winning everything from blue ribbons to silver cups. When the connection of the radio was switched for a few moments, Peg said, “Weren’t you surprised to see Mrs. Leah Sturdevant, our zealous Leah Rose, at dinner? She has just returned from Baltimore, where she has been attending the Pan-American Conference of Women. In addition to being a member of this body, she is president of the Women s Federation of Clubs. The conversation was interrupted by a buzzing noise, and when Har­ riette opened the amplifier a familiar voice bellowed forth. It was their Peggy, or, rather, Margaret Boyer, Ph.D., the respected dean of a large college for women. She had received the message that they would be “listening in” about this time, and she had not forgotten her old schoomates, even in her busy hours. She had just finished a lecture on Mo ern Poetry as Compared to the Art of John Milton.” Then she announced mysteriously that she had a surprise for them. Were they surprised. Well, rather, when the familiar voice of Elizabeth Holbrook broke in upon them. She had just won the prize offered to the summer making the best time across Lake Ontario, thus claiming the title °f champion long distance swimmer of America. A buzz and a die roug e contact with Helen Holmes, otherwise known as Holmesie She h distinguished herself writing stories of the rising genera 10n> spending the week-end with Frances Spaulding—was the name Rive . When ; ■. !: ! mf !- 1 c L least one of the class had become purely a business woman. More clicking and buzzing brought Frances Hyla"d’sofv°^^1r°s^e the air. She was well situated in Chicago, as the ow , tQjd shop for individual stationery. Before she st0|?Pe , < a station of them to be sure to listen in for Medora Howard, who had a station her own on her Eastern Oregon ranch. butler, announcing Katherine Just then they were interrupted by a Kerr. We all looked puzzled. “Katherine Kerr, the great actress, the second Jane Cowl—what can she be doing here?” —_ : �Selpt) ic .. -•'! Harriette rose graciously, as a graceful, stunning figure glided through the doorway. ‘How do you do? 1 am quite honored by your visit, Miss Kerr,” she said, extending her hand. “Harriette, don’t call me that. My contract has expired, and I have a glorious two weeks’ vacation before my next production. Call me ‘Kaki’ again,” she pleaded. vj The other three all jumped up and there was much more embracing and excited talk, in which they listened to the story of “Kaki” Overbeck’s thrilling stage career. \ However, the talk led back to the Hall, and Harriette opened the trans­ mitter. Medora’s voice came over the wire, business-like and curt. 5 ;' . . 'A -si l 3 ■ !•; “Hello, everyone; it's very nice of you all to want to hear from me again, but I’m very busy now. 1 got a new herd of prize Guernseys and a new electric tractor, which I must go and investigate. You see, a large ranch like this one keeps me pretty well occupied. Did you hear about Marion Farrell and Frances Cornell? Fran, has a hair dressing parlor in the Fijii Islands, and Marion a school of original dancing in the same place; they are still together. And Janet Griffith—she is the wife of the American Ambassador to Spain. She has a wonderful villa in Madrid and a summer hacienda in South America. Don't you envy her? Then there’s Annabelle Bates, who is Madame de Mortigne, the wife of Cap* tain Mortigne, head of the Boys’ Military Academy at Paris. Quite a few of our girls are living abroad. Personally, I prefer the wheat fields and grazing grounds of Eastern Oregon; and, by the way, I can’t talk any longer; it’s milking time. I’ll ring you again, Harriette. Good-bye.” And the connection was broken. While Harriette was trying to make connections with New York again, she got a call from Texas. It was a state-wide call to arms of the Bu Hu Band, an organization of night riders, who kept things in order down on the border. There was evidently a little trouble down there, and a strangely familiar voice rang out: : i i “All ye members of the Bu Hu Band, upholders of the state and defenders of the Union, assemble at general headquarters of Esther Benson, Chief Whacket, at midnight tonight. To arms! To arms, for the cause of the just!” and the voice ceased. Well, well! spoke up Kaki, “the Benson fighting blood is keep­ ing things in order down in Texas. Pretty plucky of Esther.” Here we are connected with old New York again. I’ll see if I can get Margaret McAlister. You know she has a studio in Greenwich Village, where she designs those very quaint covers for Vogue, Vanity Fair and Harper s Bazaar. It is very interesting.” J �' ■■■■■■■■ 3B c l p Ij i c 31 “Yes,” spoke up Phlip, “I often visit her studio and she always has a crowd of poets and artists around her. What very different lives we all are leading!” “Can’t get her; I guess she’s on her vacation, too,” interrupted Harriette. Virginia Pittock is going to call us on the phone. You knew she’s the Circuit Judge of the city, didn’t you?” asked Peg. “Yes, the others all agreed; “we all voted for her, and how cleverly she handled that last case! The papers all called her the girl Solomon and the Twentieth Century Portia,” ejaculated Phlip. “There she is,” spoke up Harriette. “Are you busy?” “I have a session in two minutes,” came the voice, much deeper and slower than we had remembered Virginia’s to have been, “It’s the case of the eminent New York physician, Virginia Edwards’ husband, You know she has been devoting much of her time to singing at institutions. The case is against the people of Mulligan Alley. It’s a bad district down there, and hard to handle. 1 am going to refresh my brain tonight however, by going to a movie. I always rest my brain that way, and I think I shall take in the play, ‘The Truth About Janet Parker by H. Holmes, with Helen Van de Water in the lead. I hear its'taken the city by storm, She surely is a second Marguerite Clarke. Well, court consummons; I must away, Come in and see me, all of you,” and the nection was cut. “Well, I guess that finishes our phoning,” Peg sighed, and wasn t it nice to hear all of them and to find out what they were doing?” ck ,*® to Poplar Lawns, Long Island. V 1 \ bum; Thank you. “So Frances is in business for herself? Good for her,” said Philippa. usual thorough, scientific “Indeed, yes, and she is doing it in her and she seems like a flower manner,” Peg spoke up. “Her shop is ideal, ; herself among all the lovely things she grows, an y . J an(j either of you read Helen Ernst’s new book on the 1 ^5“'“ animals of the Northland? You know she has ju ^ a sensation extensive trip there. The book is creating qui e et Helen’s as did ‘The Diary of Opal Whitely,’ when we were Juniors at St. Helen Hall. in exclaimed, “I must get back Just then, glancing at her watch, Phhp jn jn the mornmg, to New York before dark, as I leave for^N j P ‘ §may come up again. but I surely have enjoyed this afternoon, Good-bye.” r - r. - ■ �r,, •! dnh& -1 j •v--| 32 3Be l p fj i c £ - £. $ a ':'v •1 •'J ■: KALENDAR. \. - 1 ..* Sfl V " \ : \ - ,i January 30—The new term starts today. We are now looking forward to Easter vacation. And then, after that, good, solid work for every one (especially the Seniors) until June. February 8—Midyear’s dance at the Portland Heights Club. The Japanese decorations were unusually effective. February 12—Lincoln’s Birthday was celebrated by a patriotic pro­ gram in the Study Hall. February 18—Miss Jocelyn Foulkes gave a tea for the Senior Class February 22—Washington's Birthday and a holiday. April 14—The Lenten offering of dresses for Alaskan children was collected. April 16—Easter. April 17—Lent is over and Spring vacation begins. April 24—The return. Some late. Many yawns. April 29—A tea was given for the Senior Class by Mary Helen/ Spaulding. May 2—The Boarders gave a birthday party for Betty Hawkinson, Virginia Edwards and Esther Benson. The table was decorated in lavender. May 13—The Juniors entertained the Seniors at a luncheon at the Waverly Country Club. May 15—-The New Girls entertained for the Old Girls at a newfashioned picnic at the Meyer estate on the Sandy River. �© e l p i) t c ^ ■ • i-l May 26—Ten girls—Pearl Biehn, Elizabeth Hawkinson, Sarah Pea­ body, Edna Ellen Bell, Frances Ford, Frances Cornell, Bess Edwards, Martha Youlden, Le Anna Faurrote and Charlotte Allen—were confirmed this morning. May 27—The Alumnae entertained the Senior Class at a tea. May 29_Exams! A dark blue cloud hangs over the school, envelop­ ing everything and causing every one to walk about with weak knees and hollow eyes. May 30—Decoration Day. Spent in worrying over the exams for next day. June 2—The Annual Spring Musicale was given in the afternoon. Several Seniors made their farewell appearance. This was followed by “She Stoops to Conquer,” a play laid in rural England of the eighteenth century, given by nine of the dramatic stars of the Senior class. June 3—The program of aesthetic dancing given on the lawn in early afternoon was followed by the French play, Bataille de Dames, given by the girls who were so fortunate as to be able to combine dramatic ability with that of speaking French. June 4 Baccalaureate Sunday. The school en masse attended St. The Stephen’s Pro-Cathedral to hear the sermon by Bishop Sumner. The usual bountiful spread o'f Seniors especially were interested, chicken salad, chocolate and strawberry shortcake was enjoyed after the sermon. p June 6—Commencement for the graduating class of twenty six a Trinity Church. The address was given by Bishop Sumner; 9 day in the lives of twenty-six girls. Flowers-mus.c-congratulations. 1 - --- ■ p !■- b V I ! — I I iramattrs On the afternoon of Friday, June 2. She Stoops '^’^hleh is laid presented by nine members of the Senl0^ un^uaiP0pportunities for m England in the eighteenth century, ga . isPtPe cast: quaint costuming and effective staging. Th Philippa Sherman Mr. Hardcastle. Frances Spaulding Mrs. Hardcastle Frances Cornell Marlowe............ ........ Lucy Spittle Hastings ...... m &F.V. Si ft?;: fob m tM BH -> v �JBe1 p fj i c Kate Hardcastle Constance Neville Landlord Maid Tony Lumpkin '' $ v*\ ■ .* :,i i-? j * " - •’*'***’ r • :' I | . • -V.' ■ ■: ^51 i, ..... •:2 ' ; - I:.:—] —[i Esther Benson Muriel Withers Frances Hyland Catharine Hay Helen Parker “Bataille De Dames,” by Scribe and Legouve, was presented by the advanced French classes on the afternoon of June 3. Comtesse d'Autreval. . . . Leonie de Villegontier. . Henri de Flavigneul. . . . Gustave de Grignon. . . . Le Baron de Montrichard Un Dragon...................... Une Domestique............ . . . Virginia Edwards . . . . . .Janet Griffith . . . Harriette Walters . . . Harriet Breyman ........Margaret Boyer ................. Bess Allen Helen Van de Water The Second Uppers presented a charming play on the afternoon of June 5, Six Who Pass While the Lentils Boil,” by Stuart Walker. The Boy............ . ........ Nancy Chipman The Queen............ . .Elaine Strowbridge The Mime............ Margaret Ellen Douty The Milkmaid.... ............. Virginia Zam The Blind Man . , . Phyllis Henningsen The Ballad Singer ............ Mabelle Allen The Headsman. .. . . . .Betty de Pencier The Butterfly. . . . ..Elizabeth St. Clair �Sr5 SSS5*HU®Sta!i-MBI mm ©elpfnc Athbttra March 12—This month the aesthetic dancing classes were organized. I i April 7—The basketball season closed today with the final champion­ ship game between the Juniors and the Uppers. The Juniors won by a score of 18 to 16. This shows that the two teams were well matched. The winning team was presented with the silver cup, which has been coveted by the various teams since 1904. The winning team had for its members Gertrude Shappell, center; Hazelmary Price, side center; Lillian Luders and Margaret Spencer, forwards; Virginia Hull and Gertrude Ireland, guards. On the Upper’s team were Catherine Martin, center; Marjorie Pittock and Betty Sewell, forwards; Izabel Schetky, side center; Mayanna Sargent and Katherine Hennagin, guards. May 12—The Annual Tennis Tournament closed today. Virginia Hull of the Beginners defeated Evelyn Meyer 6-1, 6-1, and was presented the tennis pin by Virginia Edwards. In the Juniors’ match Jean Muir defeated Katherine Hennagin 6-3, 6-1, and the prize, a silver cup, was presented by Analene Cohen, Catherine Martin, champion of the Seniors carried off the laurels and defeated Susabeth Bruce 6-0. �M11 p f) l C ®lj? Jfrral d>ui of fit? Class of ’22 If the ideal girl of the class of ’22 had: ■ : a • .-I ■-! . I' a V'v £ WM . -. - i ■t Si . ■ *33 3-33 33 : Hair like Janet Griffeth’s, Eyes like Charlotte Malboeuf’s, Teeth like Esther Benson’s, A mouth like Virginia Edwards', A nose like Helen Holmes’, The complexion of Margaret Boyer, The hands of Helen Ernst, The feet of Margaret McAlister, The figure of Frances Cornell, The style of Harriet Walters, A voice like Catharine Hay’s, The musical ability of Virginia Pittock-^ The dramatic ability of Leah Rose, The athletic ability of Frances Hyland, The artistic ability of Elizabeth Holbrook, The ability to be a student like Helen Van de Water, The intellect of Catherine Overbeck, The patience of Frances Rose, The sympathy of Muriel Withers, The vivacity of Annabelle Bates, The thoughtfulness of Marguerite Pendergrass, The cleverness of Philippa Sherman, A sense of responsibility like that of Medora Howard, The tact of Frances Spaulding, The charm of Marion Farrell, The disposition of Helen Parker, What a charming girl she would be! �JB elpijic a L 37 ij ©Sff^S T C s VriJMfv Mr. and Mrs. Allen C. Hemphill (Ethelwynne Harris, ’02) are the proud parents of a son, John Harris, born in December. K:nderearten Miss Jane Lowe, who was graduated in 1917 from the Kin & Training Class, was married to Mr. Thomas J. Webb, Apr (Lets Kopiuk.) is bsing c.gr.tul.kd on tbs >M " Lir.to0.'"./! SlS".rd, b, .he ! b. .9,2 .««.* St. Helen’s Hall. the Ambassador Hotel in Eleanor Simpson, ’20, is head designer at Los Angeles. . Chester Kennedy (Eleanor Cram, ’18) announced the Mr. and Mrs. _ birth of their second child, a son, born not long a§ • m6W York. Faith Newton, ’19, is attending Miss Scoydle s school, in; Ne» Captain and Mrs. John Leonard Riddell (Ethel Malp*s, >6) * congratulated on the arrival ot Joan their s®“nporot^ Carpenter, ’21, Those who knew Helen Winter, 21 ’ „ during recess 0ne day were glad to see them when they visited th Fnrnne where she studied a short time ago. Inez Chambers, ’18, who returned from the violin, is now making a tour with the 1 visited the Hall Both Doris Henningsen, ’20, and Elizabeth Kelly, . h f Mrs> Cabell recently and every one was glad to see t e™It was with deep sorrow that we learned of the de.a n (Emily Failing), who was graduated from the Hall Frances Baker, ’20, is a F.resh‘T1|'di^t Kirk’s School, spent the Janice Parker, '21, who is attendi g „rand-daughter of the late Easter vacation with Elizabeth Burroughs, the grand s John Burroughs, the naturalist. . English teacher in the Consuelo McMillan, ’17, is the assistant Johnston, ’19, was the costume mana^wpek_end with us during FebruHazel Fairservice, ’20, spent a sh come back ary. We are always glad to have our ol g �11 n fj t c I 4 4 , - ... _ . •, gs?3 1 iExrltaitgeH ~ * ' * asp.,3 ,.-?d ‘i B "is tr.-r- 3 :1 -kM - j Ult. However, we shall hope to see them all next year. B^ue ^nnt' from the Kathrine Branson School. It PcrLC°meS *u US’ ^ ns much good material, and we hope to see it often. Satura staf^you^mflafl^0"1 St‘ J°hn Baptist’s School, Ralston, N. J. enlarge it and sdn & ZI,ne COntains good material, but why do you not The a ^ eXChange dePartment? We find many^iood™!*1 ^ar^'s Academy, is an interesting number poetry. s 0ries> together with the usual abundance of fine �I ; 3B c l p f) i c f 39 The Washington Seminary “Scroll” comes to us again with a very original number. The idea of publishing a Jester’s Number is unusual and clever. Your athletic and musical notes are full, and worthy of praise. The Free Press is an interesting feature. The Johnannean, from St. John’s School, is deserving of note. We like your book and play reviews, but why not have a larger literary department? St. Katharine’s “Wheel” abounds in good material. “The Gift” is a sweet and well written story. The comments on “The Younger Gener­ ation” are just and perfectly express our sentiments. Congratulations to you for taking up the subject. The Delphic acknowledges with thanks: The Rensselaer Polytechnic. The Oregon Emerald. The Columbiad. The Oregon Churchman. The 0. A. C. Barometer. The Reed College “Quest. The Oregana. ; 1 •1. 1 i ; )i ! I [ t. -•-* u ■■■ �THAT ARE DEAR TO EVERY GIRLS HEART ARE GIVEN A PROMINENT PLACE AMONG THE QUALITY MERCHANDISE OF MEIER & FRANK’S. THE NEWEST—THE SMARTEST— AND AT THE SAME TIME THE MOST MOD7 7 Y'..G 53 *7v , PORTLAND RIDING ACADEMY 697 Johnson Street Harry M. Kerron Main 973 �West Park and Washington Streets Portland, Oregon w h o’s y o u r h o s i e r ? Charles F. Berg Morrison Street Postoffice opposite �Fink Studio Character Portraiture Rubber Stamps PERSONALITY & EXPRESSION Fliedner Building 3S7 WASHINGTON ST. Pittock Bldg. JONES’ MARKET V ' H ' !P -'i r FOURTH AND ALDER 3 ■ ■ Washington Street at Tenth Broadway 1545 TELEPHONE—MARSHALL 1; AUTOMATIC 562-81 1 The Market of Cleanliness and Sanitary Surroundings 3 r JONES’ QUALITY MEATS t. v:r-| -i Fresh and Cured Fish in Season Milk-Fed Poultry Iga ALSO That Famous Skamokawa Butter " /:irrvv>j We Deliver Cash or Credit ■* +■ PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS �8 COMPLIMENTS OF C. G. APPLEGATH i i E Established 1870 ! EXCLUSIVE FURRIER ! PORTLAND, 352 ALDER STREET Near Park Telephone Main 4061 Portland’s Oldest Fur House : I OREGON I! Compliments of F* Friedlander Co* 310-312 Washington St. ! T»—___ '—■■—4 PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS �At Your Service F. L. FREEBURG Across the Way CONFECTIONS LUNCHES STATIONERY FRUIT Oregon Eilers Music House Formerly GRAVES MUSIC CO. Oldest established Music House in Oregon A 7-story building for music and musicians ENTRANCE 287 WASHINGTON STREET BELOW FIFTH STREET Talking Machine Headquarters i Lane-Miles Standish Co. v *m •N “AT THE SIGN OF THE Specialists in Mayflower” School Printing ■V ,;r' i 309 OAK STREET PORTLAND OREGON i ■* :■ PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS —.-V-r— 4 �%..............................................................■ Vocal and Dramatic Studios of GEORGE A. NATANSON nrwTFFN PUBLIC PERFORMANCES GIVEN BY PUPILS LAST SEASON FIFTEEN YEARS OF EXPERIENCE WITH AMERICA’S LARGEST MANAGEMENTS Director of Little Theatre, Season 1921 Studios 706-5-1-3 Eilers Building THE BUSH PHARMACY Corner Eleventh and Montgomery Streets Phone Main 3322 ( f OREGON PORTLAND COFFMAN’S Try our famous J. C. Chocolates Near Morrison We make all our own candies WINK’S f 152 Broadway HARDWARE 14th & Washington Streets Service and Quality PENDERGRASS MARKET 448 Washington St. k - I 1 + Portland Knitting Comp’ny We Deliver 146 Broadway “Say It With Flowers99 keystone NIKLAS & SON CONFECTIONERY AND CREAM STORE Florists i: We have the best line of slip­ over Sweaters in Portland—Fiber, Silk, Mohairs, Worsteds — all cqlors and styles. Bring this ad before June 20th and get 10% discount. “The house of unexcelled floral service” 403 MORRISON ST. Phone Broadway 2876 r ! •:v ........ :: : WP ■ We carry a fine line of Candies, Zt Cream, Sodas,. Bakery and Lunch Goods, Periodicals, Etc. ■ ■ ■ -4 Phones: Main 2916, A4S31 Cor. 23d an d Washington Streets —,■—■< —i.—>■—*■— PATRONIZE OUR r-. «•—>4* ADVERTISERS mi. �Smith’s Flower Shop L. Mayer & Company. J Thomas Luke, Proprietor “Your Florist Staple and Fancy 141 Vz Sixth Main 7215 GROCERIES a The Breymaii Leather Co. Telephones: Main 9432—A-4432 3 LEATHER SHOE FINDINGS SHOE STORE SUPPLIES SHOE MACHINERY 166 FIFTH STREET Portland, Oregon j Phone Main 7108 N. E. Cor. Second and Oak Sts. Portland, Oregon .! >=PIERCE a time when the public demand has developed unmis­ takably for enclosed cars of new proportions and an even greater utility, the introduction of a complete line of Pierce Arrow and Wills-Sainte-Claire enclosed drive models constitutes a notable contribution. J .. a s'--'?" I CHAS. C. FAGAN CO., Inc. $ Distributors . > Pierce-Arrow and Wills-Sainte-Claire Motor Cars - 1 f:-- ; ""f* PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS Sur1 $s;-i ! �Martin & Forbes Company School Books Bought, Sold and Exchanged FLORISTS HYLAND’S BOOK STORE 354 Washington Street Main 269, A-1269 Portland, Ore. 204 FOURTH STREET Between Taylor and Salmon Red Front I i A Complete Line | Multnomah Photo Supply Loo I 131 Broadway �Parker’s Market A Little Shop Means Little Rent Few in Help Means Little Spent Little Spent in Running a Store Means Attractive Prices Inside the Door —Roycrofter Prime Meats Only M. L. Smith Main 989 169 Fourth St. Jeweler :: Watchmaker Heilig Theatre Bldg. Main 1184 193 BROADWAY Portland Oregon * HOOVER’S ! -i Bakery and Lunch G a r r i 2r' u s Hat Shop r Main 2700 - I-’?' 454 Washington ; :: ■ j 'Ll IMPORTED DRESS ACCESSORIES for 1 j Young Women : ...............................................................................................■! i. .. ; . ;;J Camel Hair Polo Coats. Burberry Coats for General Wear Sweaters in Various Styles Silk Scarfs and Wool Mufflers Knitted Shirts Umbrellas and Riding Crops Box Cloth Spats 389 ALDER STREET Near Tenth Oregon Portland There is something very human about Oriental Rugs. Not machines, but nimble fingers created them. Love of beauty and pride of workmanship guided their forming. Traditions and fancies are fixed in their colors and patterns. Students and home-makers are cordially invited to study and enjoy our display erf Eastern weavings. Any information or service we may render is a pleasure. 1 s I * V, 1 **’ - ! ; K. S. ERVIN & CO., Ltd. Established 1901 Cartozian Bros. Second Floor Selling Bldg. Sixth and Alder Streets 393 WASHINGTON STREET Portland, Oregon ,—.<—•4* PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS r ■ >• �* ’ £i 2SS * +■ ! ii BUESCHER I ! . BAND—ORCHESTRA INSTRUMENTS i FINE VIOLINS bacon banjos ,r TRY US FOR SHEET MUSIC Large Selection—Classical, Popular : ■ [ PIANOS VICTROLAS ”— ! . I f SEIBERLING - LUCAS MUSIC CO. ! Near Washington St. 125 4th St. i MARIE GAMMIE I : !. Russian School of Dancing TOE DANCING A SPECIALTY ’ Private Instruction by Appointment ■ ... Studio, Fourth Floor Eilers Music Bldg. Telephone Main 8038 f ) i ' FAILURE TO ENJOY STUDY Hazelwood Candy May be due to need for glasses. Examination of your eyes will determine the matter definitely, and if you do not need them, we will frankly tell you so. DAINTY GIFT PACKAGES in a variety of sizes and shapes COLUMBIAN OPTICAL COMPANY Floyd F. Brower, Mgr. 145 Sixth Delicious Chocolates, Caramels and Homemade Specials : Sweet Grass Baskets Myrtle Wood Boxes Hand Painted Satin and Straw Baskets When you buy “Hazelwood” you secure the best there is in candy i 3 :I l: : :I I HAZELWOOD i Confectionery and Restaurant 388 WASHINGTON ST. 127 BROADWAY : ■... i I I : ■«—»« __„—»—■<—««—■*—" *—■■——ii—ii—i»—H— PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS . ■•-7 > �7' •r W- £1-‘£S-S5a 3 ■:4 • • - +■ .-■1 ERNST’S CANDIES Are popular both in price and quality • • -r.J SPECIAL SALES EVERY DAY > 1 TKi OCR WEEK-END SPECIALS : Fresh crisp Peanut Brittle, 15c per lb. -■1 Our Regular 75c Chocolates 49c per lb. ': Large Assortment of FILLED BOXES. BASKETS. ETC. for the HOLIDAY TRADE 1 I ,1 I ; -• : .-4 -■C;' - C$,v •ssr-a k. ' ■ ' | *■ PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS ^ ■ s/M - j ^4 i �Rue cle la Paix CHOCOLATES Now $1.50 Pound Delicious French Chocolates—as you like them—made in our own daylight candy kitchen of the purest of ingredients, and oh, how unusual! That’s why we’re telling you more about them—that is why people as far away as New York and Florida send to LipmanWolfe’s for their candy. For while you and your girl chums ate them last year with much acclaim, you’re going to enjoy them much more this year. They’re better than ever, and there are many more delicious pieces, all with intriguing centers. And besides, best of all, this year they’re only $1.50 pound SWEETS BOOTH, STREET FLOOR ^tprnan^vV)of|c (& 6o. C/ Merchandise of "'I Merit Only ■i I Wr �“-TCTf-.r /f:-.-a- ■ ! 1 T •< - "SI For the Graduate : ? 1 .-.s ■-'.3 , Books «4 — always the appropriate gift ^3 ■ ■ - Fine Stationery —in many unique and dignified styles *•: v- u ; -■ ! '■-I Engraving 44 — Wedding Announcements — Calling Cards “S • >1 vj z'JL The J. K. Gill Company i. A" Third and Alder Streets '■•••• •""I-*--.'--’ "rm (After November 15th, 5th and Stark) s if 4*i——>i ■+ PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS ^4 �'i 4S3 m i ' .■ . ■ '3.-.'. 44 * pyBysSaysysynysl .... ... - . S~lfp: k» ~ f-". ■■■■•-■• ■-■- ■ ■ ---' .. .... : ■' . - ®iii •: ' � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Oregon Episcopal School Yearbooks Description An account of the resource This is a collection of yearbooks from the Oregon Episcopal School (OES). The bulk of the yearbooks are from St. Helen's Hall, with yearbooks also from the Junior College as well as Bishop Dagwell Hall. The title for the OES yearbook evolved from The Delphic to The Legend-Delphic. The title for the Junior College Yearbook was The Scintilla. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Oregon Episcopal School Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Oregon Episcopal School Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1921-1923; 1931-1995 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource All rights are reserved by Oregon Episcopal School. Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource Yearbooks Conforms To An established standard to which the described resource conforms. Describing Archives: A Content Standard (DACS) Extent The size or duration of the resource. 85 Medium The material or physical carrier of the resource. bound volumes Subject The topic of the resource Students Junior colleges Junior college students High school student activities Student activities Student publications Teachers Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Extent The size or duration of the resource. 1 Medium The material or physical carrier of the resource. bound volume Title A name given to the resource The Delphic - Commencement 1922 Subject The topic of the resource School yearbooks Students Student activities Student publications Teachers Description An account of the resource This is one of the oldest OES yearbooks, dated 1922. The yearbooks were published annually after 1925. Yearbooks from 1921-1968 were known as The Delphic and were created by St. Helen's Hall students attending in their high school years. St. Helen's Hall was an all-girls school that pre-dated Oregon Episcopal School. In 1969, the yearbook evolved into The Legend-Delphic with the addition of Bishop Dagwell Hall and male student attendees. After 1986 the yearbook branding begins to singularly list "OES" with a few volumes referencing "The Delphic" or "The Legend Delphic". Yearbooks helped to chronicle the school year's events and activities, in addition to listing each student and staff member. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Oregon Episcopal School Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1922 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource All rights are reserved by Oregon Episcopal School. Language A language of the resource English Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context oes_delphic_commencement1922-compressed.pdf School yearbooks; Students; Student activities; Student publications; Teachers