Book burning

(1980 memoirs)
But I kept the Ripon Memory Book, and one fine day after I was married a while, I burned the whole she-bang in our coal furnace in the utility room [on Beaumont Avenue].  All the things in this book suddenly became very trivial and unimportant.  More and more I felt how silly I'd feel if anyone read it, especially Lorin.  I felt silly myself.  Whatever prompted me to spend time on it?

Memory book

(1980 memoirs)
Well -- now -- [when a freshman at Ripon College] one of the first things I bought for $5.00 and which I could not well afford was a large memory book with stiff red covers decorated with a big red R on the cover.  Inside was ruled spaces for such things as teachers, friends, social functions, dates, and the like.  I filled it in the first year or two and then lost interest.

Skittish

(1980 memoirs)
The Evans' daughter was Betty, and one time I impersonated her in a skit given to take off the faculty.  I recall only that I borrowed someone's coon-skin coat (like hers) and at one point asked, "My father said that?"  What I remember vividly, though, is looking at the audience and seeing the agonized faces of Betty and her parents!  Whatever makes us get into situations so disgraceful we never forget them the rest of our lives?

Don't

(1980 memoirs)
The president of Ripon College was Silas Evans, well liked by all as far as I ever knew.  Chapel was compulsory and roll call was taken.  Speakers were often professors who were also ministers.  Prexy often spoke himself.  As a member of Tess O'Brian's Special English Class, I flinched every time he said, "He don't."  One day he spoke of it, saying he realized his mistake as soon as he said it, and his wife frequently corrected him, yet he could not overcome it; and cautioned us all to make good habits now

Plaid sox

(1980 memoirs)
A girl I knew, Marian Cole, a pretty blonde, told me about a couple of dates she had with Si Owen.  When he came to call for her, her father was in his slippers, wearing rather bright plaid sox.  As soon as she got her coat and they were in the hall, he whispered, "Where does he keep them?  Those sox?"  And ever after when he called for her he would whisper, "Where are they?"  He was so grave-looking but so funny to talk to it was fun being with him.  But he didn't go with either of us very much at all, but rather with a plain, dowdy girl, and we could never see what he saw in her.

Angel eyes

(1980 memoirs)
[In Biology class] we were seated alphabetically in the Little Theater for the lecture, and that put me next to a wise solemn senior, Si Owen, who was rather slight in build, wore dark horn-rimmed spectacles, and, belying his grave appearance, was exceedingly good company and frequentlly came out with funny and sometimes audacious things.  As soon as I sat down next to him the first day, he said, "Hello, Angel Eyes."

Microscope

(1980 memoirs)
The assistant for our section [of biology] was an Armenian, Katcher Tutungeon, who spoke with a deep accent.  Well do I recall the day I put my eye to the microscope and obediently "drew what I saw."  I had no idea what it was for some dim reason until he made his rounds and said, "Miss Parsons, your bed bug is OK, but you have drawn him on his head, upside down!"

The frog story

(1980 memoirs)
My biology class still stands out strong and clear.  All the sections came together for the lecture by Prof. Groves.  Year after year he told the same story, which was passed down by the sophomores, so we were expecting it and should have applauded.  There was a frog who fell into a can of cream, but instead of drowning as he might have done, he kept on trying and trying to get out until finally -- guess what? -- the cream turned to butter, giving him something solid to stand on, and he gave a good jump and got out!  This illustrated how fine a thing Determination is! -- only I think he said "milk can."  But he might have said "cream."

Reciprocity

(1980 memoirs)
It was fun going out with Sammy Meyers, but soon he was going with a girl from a sorority house.  I could understand this very well because by doing so he got invited to their parties, and I had no way to repay him for his invitations to West Hall, etc.  Later on the girls from town did organize and entertain, but not that year.

All in the vice

(1980 memoirs)
That [Frosh Party] is how I met Sammy Meyers, a very cute boy, I always thot.  He talked in rather a husky voice and said cute things in a confiding manner.  He smoked a short black pipe and it gave him rather an air,  you know.  He told me about when he first went home (Racine) and his father (a lawyer, I think) asked him where he got the pipe.  "I just told him, 'I acquired it,'" he said in that soft voice.

The Frosh Party

(1980 memoirs)
At Ripon all was new and different.  The Frosh Party was early in the fall.  The idea was the Freshmen tried to steal a march on the Sophomores and sneak out of town and have a party.  I think some of them took some food along, tho I am hazy on that.  Anyway, whether the news leaked out or the Sophs suddenly noticed the Frosh had disappeared -- whatever -- they tried to stop the cars from leaving town, bust up the party, and probably take the girls home.  We tried to have our party too, but news leaked out somehow, and suddenly we were attacked by crowds of kids.

More about Mice

(1980 memoirs)
Margaret was of a large Roman Catholic family and deep in the middle, an agreeable girl and kind.  Irma was very smart, very quick.  Now she plays a lot of golf; house always shining; is always on top of whatever she does.  El was an excellent dressmaker and made entire outfits for her small sisters, self, and helped me too.

Comedy

(1980 memoirs)
There was one time, probably the Homecoming Dance -- or a prom -- when Eleanor wanted me to get her a date with someone at Ripon.  I said yes, and did.  But Dick [her boyfriend] got wind of it and phoned me and asked if I would get him a date.  So I did.  Well, I believe Eleanor's date came, Dick's date came (I don't recall the details) and mine.  For a few minutes there Cousin Frankie's living room was very crowded.  Looking back on this I am amazed at myself.  Eleanor had been going steady with Dick for some time and I was good friends with both.   I think they rode together on the train going back and patched it up.

Best friends

(1980 memoirs)
I (the C in MICE) miss those girls and those days.  I never have been with any friends who laughed more and had more fun, tho we had problems too.  Well -- so I left them all and went to school.

Business

(1980 memoirs)
I was the only one [of the MICE] who went off to college.  All the other girls took a business course and were excellent typists.  El used to tell how she knew her boss didn't like it when she corrected his (dictated) errors, but he never said anyting to her!

E as in Mice

(1980 memoirs)
Eleanor married Dick Lange and they ended up in California.  She died a few years ago and he sold their home and moved in an apartment.  He has since grown closer to his sisters and one year came in a van to see me and others in Wisconsin.  He was an electrician -- worked for big companies....

I as in Mice

(1980 memoirs)
Irma married James Harbridge, built a house in Fond du Lac.  He died not long ago and she lives there, often visiting one of her two daughters.  I went with her brother Leonard for a while, a wonder at the piano.

M as in Mice

Where are we [MICE] all now what were our lives?  Margaret married Oliver Schmiedel and had a family of boys and they live in West Allis.  On a couple of picnics, I was paired with a Marine brother of hers -- so much older than I.

Mice

(1980 memoirs)
Eleanor Coreth and I lived in one part of the town and Irma Warns and a girl they long knew, Margaret Brewster, lived in another end.  So when we met to go to see Mary Pickford or Mary Miles Minter or Rudolph Valentino in The Shiek we had someone to walk home with.  One day one of us, probably Irma, was struck with a brilliant Idea.  Writing down our names -- Margaret, Irma, Carolyn, Eleanor -- she found, as you can plainly see yourself, they spelled MICE.  So until this day we often sign our Xmas cards by the one letter.

Reading

(1980 memoirs)
We studied Merchant of Venice, Macbeth, Hamlet....  One semester we each took a magazine -- the Literary Digest maybe.  This [class] lasted three years and all were sorry to see the end.

Assignment book

(1980 memoirs)
[In Tess O'Brian's class] we each had an assignment book in which we were required to note the daily work assigned and copy questions to be answereed on the text.  These were collected and graded.  The object was to teach us good study habits and to be steady and neat.

Tess

(1980 memoirs)
Miss O'Brian taught us the fundamentals so that we knew why our mistakes were wrong, and taught us how to correct them.  There was never any fooling around.  She held our intent attention the full hour.