The Pine Branch, October 1920

October
1920
Uolumn 4

Ilumber 1

The Deftness Of The True Artisan
FINDS EXPRESSION IN THE SMART NESS OF THE NEW TURNER JONES SHOES FOR FALL. THEY ARE MORE THAN BITS OF LEATHER SHAPED AND SEWN TO COVER THE FOOT- EACH DESIGN IN TURNER JONES' SHOES SHOWS A DEPARTURE FRO c THE OR DINARY; EACH STYLE IS SO PERFECT LY DEVELOPED THAT YOU'LL FEEL YOU HAVE FOUND PERFECTION IN FOOTWEAR AS YOU WEAR THEM.
A PRICE RANGE IN REACH OF ALL.
TURNER JONES SHOE COMPANY

LOIS BYRD

EDITORS
----- KATHLEEN SMITH
SALLY KATE WOLFE

CLASS REPORTERS

Junior--Waver Hodges

Sophomore--Eppie Roberson

Senior--C. R. Sharpe

Freshman--Anne Chichester

RUTH WOLCOTT ---------------------------------------------- Business Manager

MARY ETHEL MOSES--------------------------------Asst- Business Manager

CONTENTS

Returning------------------------------------ ---------------- Page 2

At the End of the Way_----------------------------------- Page 3

"A Sweetly Solemn Thought"----------------------------- Page 5

All's Well That Ends Well----------------------------------- Page 6

Delilah________________________________________PaSe 9

Twigs__________________________________

Page 10

Editorial_______________________________________Page 12

Tangles ______________________________________ Page 13

Alumnae _____________________________________ Page 14

Locals----------------------

Page 15

Humorous_______________

Page 17

If? Pin? Hranrij

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PUBLISHED BY THE STUDENTS OF THE SOUTH GEORGIA NORMAL COLLEGE, VALDOSTA, GA.
Accepted for mailing at special rate of postage provided for in Section 1103, Act of Oct. 3, 1917. Authorized Jan. 20, 1919

VOLUME IV

OCTOBER, 1920. ' Number!

Upturning
There's dancing of feet in the halls again, The sound of young voices arise,
And happiness fills every heart as a song And laughter goes seeking the skies.
Sweet carols of joy from daybreak till the e'en And gay girlish gossip is heard
As light as a fair summer shower that falls, As fresh as the song of a bird.
No matter to these that summer is past For autumn is coming, you see.
And each day that dawns is as good as the last And each is as good as can be.
Evelyn Powell, '21.

Two

At

of Hag

Dust covered and with drooping head the tired horse

slowly plodded along, picking his way over the treacher

ous stones and cautiously guiding himself along the edge

of the cliff. The rider paid no heed to the horse, but

slumped in the saddle, and with a grim look upon his tired,

strained face, clung on for dear life. His breath

^

sobs, for he held been four d&ys in the snddle, nnd the Inst

two with neither food nor drink. Bnre hended nnd with

torn clothes he presented a God-forsaken picture in a

seemingly God-forsaken country.

The sun's last rays were striking against the walls ot

the canon, but the gold and purple colors which it shed

over everything went unnoticed by the stranger. Far ofi

in the distance could be heard the piercing cry of the

hungry coyote as he waited for night to come that he

might pounce upon his prey. As the man slowly lifted his

head it could be seen that he was young. His face told

the story of a terrible struggle in which he had lost.

What? Wealth? No, of the worldly goods he had plenty;

but happiness he had none. Haltingly and with difficulty, these words escaped his

dry, parched lips in a gasping whisper, "How could I have

broken faith with those whom I loved and with God and

what will be my fate?" Of his own will the horse stopped in the shadow ot an

overhanging cliff, and the rider ,looking across the vast

space below him, saw an eagle make its way upward to its

haven of rest and contentment. A look of pain crossed his

face as he urged his horse on down the trial.

As night drew closer around them, they slowly made

their way down into the valley and, suddenly, surprise

swept the stranger's face. Intently, he gazed far ahead

of him and--yes, there came a smile to his tired eyes and

face, for far away in the distance, and but dimly shining,

could be seen a small light. However small, it meant to

the man what a clear spring would to a victim of a terrible

Three

AT THE END OF THE WAY thll'st; ,Hif, fe?ling of gratitude to God seemed to be im parted to the horse, for with renewed vigor he hastened on at as great speed as possible.
Drawing near the end of his journey, he lifted his face toward me heavens and uttered this prayer, "Dear God may 1 be to others as this light has been to me, the salv?.aon ,?f my llfe and restoration of faith in myself and oniers.
His spirit had risen as the eagle in its flight. And into tne cabin he carried joy to the isolated inmates with his news of the world. But how little they knew of the peace and comfort they gave to his soul.
He could now go back and take up his life in school Egctiii, at the head of his class, a different class, however j ?t that of the wild, drinking, gambling boys for whom he had lost his place in school and home, but one which upheld the standards of true manhood.
--Waver Hodges, '22.
Four

"A

S'fllemn QItjnugl|t"

The time again has rolled around When we must go to work.
Let's banish every single frown And not a duty shirk.
Our minds have all been free from care And everything's been fun,
But now we feel it in the air That real work has begun.
We'll take what comes and never fuss, Who wants to be a bore?
Let's make this year mean more to us Than any has before.
--Eppie Roberson, '23.

Five

All's Well Sljat Inbs Urll
May 15, 1920. I've never written a diary, but I've got to do something
in order to get this, this--oh, whatever it is--out of my system. I wish I could scream. I think it would be a re lief. I'm sick, disgusted and tired of this hole. If I live through the next eleven days I'll thank my lucky stars and never, never put my foot back at S. G. S. N. C. And final exams to come yet! Oh, I'll just die!
May 19. I had my first exam today. And honestly, after all my
cramming last night I would have been just as well off if I hadn't cracked a book. Miss--------- can ask the craziest questions,--and I let you know I wrote some crazy answers. But if I flunked it's her fault. And I have six more exams to stand. Oh, my head's all in a whirl and I can't even think straight.
May 23. This is our last Sunday here. Wonder why folks like
to stir up your emotions? All the seniors sat together at one table today and after dinner each one of them stood up and gave a little talk. Every one of them seems sad about leaving and one cried and I actually felt 'most like crying myself. I have had some good times here, and everything--but I'm not coming back; that's settled and why should these folks disturb my peace of mind?
May 25. Oh joy, I go home tomorrow! I can almost hear the
train blow now. Somehow, though, there's something that kills--no not kills but impairs--my joy. I'll be leaving here, as my college home, forever. It does make me a tiny bit blue. I believe I love this place a little after all. But pshaw! I'll be all right when I get home and see mother, father and the children and Peter--'specially Peter.
Six

THE PINE BRANCH
May 26. I'm at home, sweet home. Why do girls want to go to
college when they have a perfectly wonderful/home they can stay at? I feel as if I could stay here forever. The whole family was down at the station to meet me and Peter was, too. I kissed the family all around and almost kissed Peter. And he's coming tomorrow to take me to ride. I could only write him one little letter a week at school. But now--um um! June 10.
Such a glorious summer! I don't even take time to write my. diary. "Ain't it a grand and glorious feeling to go where you please when you please, and no lessons to bother ?
Some girls came to see me today. They are planning to go to S. G. S. N. C. this fall and wanted me to tell them about the school. I told them oodles of good things, and not one bad. Really, though, they seemed so enthusiastic I didn't have the heart to discourage them a bit. And then one of them asked me if I were ever going back and I said, "I'm not quite sure yet." Now wasn't I silly?
August 4. I've been having a perfectly wonderful time and have
neglected this old diary until I'm almost tempted not to write any more. We went to a picnic today and all the crowd was talking about college. I believe everybody is going. Peter's going to Tech. Wish I had my application in at S. G. S .N. C. I might really go. I believe I'll take a chance and run write it now!
Aug. 15. I did get in and my trunk tag came today and the little
bow of red and black ribbon. I almost kissed it. I have the same dear old room. I wonder who my room-mates are?
Seven
mumtm

ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
August 27. My last Sunday at home! I told Peter good-bye to
night. It hurt, but not as much as it would if I weren't going away too. I hate to leave, but won't it be jolly to see the old girls and the new ones, too! Sept. 1.
Back at S. G. S. N. C. I was glad to see everybody and everybody seemed glad to see me. The old buildings seemed to smile at me and extend a welcome and the dor mitory fairly grinned. Just before I reached the steps the building looked at me with its many eyes and said, "I tho't you weren't coming back." I returned its gaze, threw back my shoulders and answered, "I wasn't, but I couldn't stay away, but don't you dare say, T told you so.' " Now, isn't it funny how we change our minds?
--Edna Robinson, '22.
Eight

Milalj
I lost my heart today. An impish Miss-- With golden eyes a-slant all roguishly, And hair the burnished sheen of copper rare, That gleamed and glistened in the sun, and turned Mysterious and russet in the shade; With skin of satin creaminess, and smooth; Hues borrowed from the sun she's goddess of, And cheeks that flush a-crimson ,like the stain Of rich red roses; shading to her mouth The luscious red that warms the roses heart: Her figure slender-builded like a sprite, With all a sprite's gay grace and willfulness, Was, yet, full-ripe, matured voluptously, Alluring and bewitching every sense-- She's taken me, my heart--my soul, my mind. I walk in chains, a victim of caprice, Of moods that change from cold to warm again-- One minute harsh, the next, such ecstaey Of clinging sweetness, healing all my hurt; And, then, an arch withdrawal, daring me To follow her, and bend her to my will. O goddess-maid, the chains were lightly worn! Nor would I have you other than you are-- With charms as varying, and full as free As colors which a-splash, your raiments deck; As free as golden butterflies, which mate And dance and dip above your shining head. They call you Indian-Summer, Autumn, Fall-- Delilah were the better name for you!
--Helen Allen, '21
Nine

(Etutga
Ang^r
The corners of her mouth were drawn down, and her small lips were slightly protruded. Her face was flushed, and her blue misty eyes bore all indications of anger. On her forehead were very distinct wrinkles which didn't for one moment disappear. Her long curls bobbed incessantly with the shaking of her head, and from her lips came a steady flow of emphatic statements. Stamping her foot on the ground and pointing her finger at the object of her revenge she exclaimed: "You Jimmie Smith, dus ook wat you've gone and done; tored up my big nice toad frog house. I specks to tell your mamma on you, I do! Go home! You shan't stay no longer. Go!" Then she fell flat on the ground and began sobbing passionately.
--E. R.
(EoUrgr Again
"Why are you late coming back to school?" greeted me as I came in sight of a group of merry girls running to meet me.
"So glad to see you," yelled Addye, as she threw her arms around my neck and planted a big kiss on the end of my nose. "Have a good time this summer?" asked Julia, bringing three new girls forward and introducing them.
"My, but it's good to see you again," I said when I had time to recover my breath.
Ten

TWIGS

"Did you bring anything to eat?" asked a new girl,
pushing her way into the crowd. "What you got in the box, and let me have the suit
case. It feels like it might have some chicken in it!" "Oh, did you know Ruby was married?" "No, who would have thought it!" "Hatty and Ethel are back and they don't look natural
out of uniform!" "Girls, isn't it good to be back ?" I asked as I threw
my hat on the bed and coat beside it. "I can't wear this thing!" Who was she? I didn't
know at first, but she was a new girl and tears were streaming down her cheeks, as she stood in the doorway pointing down at the long, but quite natural, blue skirt.
Laugh? We couldn't help it. But isn't it grand to be

back?

--J. W.

Eleven

Smlberfi
Upon our campus, now, there is in the making a beau tiful structure. The whir of machinery goes steadily, and scores of workmen move as steadily and rhythmically-- each with a certain task to be done, each an artist in his own part of the building of that which in its completeness shall mean beauty, strength, endurance and efficiency. From the green, dew-wet morning to the langorous after noon they bend their backs to the late summer sun. Yet, occasionally a crisp, fragrant breeze springs up, and they push back their hats, straighten their shoulders, and look on their work--to call it well.
And one there is who is everywhere at once. He meas ures and gauges, and jealously watches for the growth of the image which is ever at the back of his mind--the plan of the master builder of them all.
There are other builders, too, for in and about the campus-beloved, two hundred young souls radiant in the first flush of young womanhood, are building -- building with faith and hope and ambition; sitting at the feet of wisdom, learning the glorious give and take of team work, fighting the odds and finding it all worth while.
Some are new and inexperienced workmen, finding it a little hard to get on to the rules of the game--the game of Life and preparation for it. Intense friendships, like mushroom growths, spring up overnight; and' when through their very fragility they perish, disillusion some-
Twelve

THE PINE BRANCH
times rankles. But in the end, comes understanding, and true values assert themselves.
Others are more experienced, yet even they must straighten up now and then, brush triyial things aside, and measure their work by the great ideal. There are guides who help us to carry on, and -- may we not be lieve?--there is the master guide of all who keeps in our hearts the completed plan of a sane, sweet womanhood.
`Oh what a tangled web we weave' When present hair styles we conceive!
Hearts afire and scimitars clanging, eyes alight and nostrils quivering, we have given ourselves to the temper ance banner. Bobbing up and down in our seats, we have cheered the advocates of simplicity, true worth and unaf fected honesty. And yet--to look at the coiffure of mod em femininity--what if the outer appearance of our heads were indicative of the interior decorations! We who are prone to judge by surface values, what must we think of the intricate windings and mattings and tangles of that sovereign organ, the brain?
"Beauty least adorned is most adorned," quod erat dem onstratum, might' be a geometrical conclusion. If so, then geometry has become extremely unpopular.
Still, I cannot but feel for those poor mothers who long to see their daughters' ears again--those ears they deemed so dear in babyhood. "Her pearly, shell-like ears"--the poets used to rave about. I wonder if the poets remem ber now. One charming girl was wont to let the winds play hide and seek within her hair. The other day she passed me by, her head as smooth as any plaster saint's across the top. And looking piteously through the bars, a semicircle knot of tangled hair was strangled by the net.
Ah me, I thought. The winds are lonesome now.
Thirteen

It was with great pleasure the different members of the South Georgia State Normal College alumni were wel comed to the opening of the fall session of school. Among the visitors and those who came to teach in the college we find the names of: Misses Julia Pinkston of Adel, '15; Maggie Mae Smith of Valdosta, '16; Alice Feltham of Bos ton, '17; Minnie T. Harrell of Quitman, '17; Edith Patter son of Dixie, '18; Stella Mathis of Barretts, '18; Hazel Bourquin of Adel, '18; Edith Smith of Valdosta, '18; Ida Groover of Pidcock, class '18; Minnie Ruth Brown of Lake Park, '19; Lois May of Adel, '19; Jonibel Powell of Jen nings, '19; Sadie Culbreth of Tarver, '19; Mattie Campbell of Valdosta, '20; Katheryne White of Lake Park, '20; Ethel Ingram of Fowlstown, '20; Hattie McMillan of Ellenton, '20; Mildred Smith of Valdosta, '20.--Valdosta Times.
Fourteen

New Members of Our Faculty
We are glad to welcome the new members of the fac ulty of the S. G. S. N. C. Mr. Poston is now at the head of the music department. In this department are several new teachers. Miss Sallie Pearl Smith and Mrs. Plowden are piano teachers assisting Miss Frances Bond, and Miss Howell is assisting Miss Margurite Whittington in teach ing violin. The new head of the English department is Mr. Martin. Miss Mattie Campbell is English assistant. Mr. Shanks has Mr. Bradley's place as head of the department of history. Miss Margery Moore is teacher of foreign languages. Miss Stella Mathis, after a year's study, has returned to assist in the art department. Miss Annie Redfern is assistant in the home economics department, and Miss Louise Mendelssohn is director of physical education. Miss Kemper Moore teaches voice culture and reading. Miss Goodlet, after being away for a year ,has returned to take Miss Barrett's place as principal of the training school. Miss Ethel Ingram and Miss Hattie McMillan re turned as student assistants.
The Faculty Entertains.
An enjoyable event of the month was the reception given to the students by the faculty on Saturday evening, September 4th. One feature of the entertainment was the procession in which the men of the faculty marched carry ing pennants with such inscriptions as: "Vote for Cox," and "Welcome, Fair Sex." Mr. Powell then made a talk on woman suffrage. This was followed by a talk from Miss Craig on "How the Men of Valdosta Have Received the Fair Sex."
Fifteen

y>iyi wi

.W- tyt

Camera Club Organized.
The Camera Club held its first meeting Saturday after noon, Sept. 18, 1920. The following officers were elected: Mildred Price, president; Jimmie Carmack, vice president, and Edna Sasser, secretary and treasurer. The work in this club is going to be very interesting. Among the things to be studied are: Pictures, developing, printing and different ways of taking pictures. President Powell has offered a prize of five dollars for the most character istic picture of the college, also a college views book is going to be published this year and fifty cents will be given to every person having one of their pictures in this book. There are nineteen members in the club now and it is sure to become a progressive one.
Club Work.
This year we've organized two literary societies, which for the most part take the places of the different clubs we have had heretofore. However, several clubs have been or ganized. Besides the county clubs we have the Philhar monic, a musical club, and the Kodakery Clubs.
Philharmonic Club Presents Recital
On Saturday evening, September 18th, the Philhar monic Club presented Mrs. James McCall in a song recital which was indeed a treat for all who attended.
Athletics
Our athletic club has not yet been reorganized. Offi cers will be elected soon, however, and we're expecting the club members to crowd our magazine with records of the great work they are doing.

Sixteen

Advanced (?) Physics.

Miss Craig: "How long is meat , considered fresh,

Lois?" Lois O'Quinn:

"Why, er--as long as it is not spoiled."

How Strange!
One .bright Sunday morning the electric current went off, leaving the street cars stranded.
"Why are we standing here?" asked a new girl. "Waiting for the power to come on," was the answer. "Why do you have to wait for the power?" was the
next petulant query.

Miss Craig: "How has the refrigerator car reduced freight rates, Bebe?"
Bebe Lang: "Well, you see, Miss Craig, when they used to ship cattle whole------ "
Miss Craig: "How else did they ship them?"
Elements, Mixtures, Compounds.
Miss Craig: "Now, consider your breakfast; in which class was it?"
Class in unison: "Mixture--we had hash!"

Seventeen

Introduction Lacking. Old Girl: "Are you going to vesper?" New Girl: "Who in the world is that?'
Enghteen

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