1904_04_NormalRecord.010 |
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THE NORMAL RECORD. world is getting worse every day. There isn't any place for plain, honest folks any more. Something showy and extravagant is what people want now.'' The voice was that of the hollyhock on the knoll. "Eh?" interrogated a fine-looking Drumhead, sleepily awakening from a dream, in which he had taken the first prize at a country fair. "What's that you're saying?" '' "What am I saying ? Look at me, growing on a piece of waste land, too poor for a low vegetable to grow in. Think how degraded I feel—I, who was once the petted favorite of that big, brown house on the hill where Grandmother Farmer lived when a girl. She always had a bunch of us in her tall vase on the mantel when Grandfather Parmer called to see her. On her wedding day she had the dining-room decorated with 'the white beauties,' as she called us. When Master John was a baby she used to pick our white bells and give them to him to play with, because she knew we would not hurt him. There's many a flower in that garden now that Master John's pretty wife would not give to her baby. Does anybody ever look at me now, unless it is little Willie, who put me here so he might catch bees in my white bells ? Where my ancestors used to grow are now ugly, heathenish palms and bold lilies." "Oh—ah—would you let me make a suggestion?" said a smart-looking young Radish. "I know Hollyhocks today who have educated and perfected themselves in such a way as to maintain their old station in life. For instance, the color and style of one's dress and a certain way of doing little things count a good deal sometimes. Keep up with the world and you'll never have cause to accuse the world of misusing you. Why, they say that my ancestors were once white, tasteless weeds, and now look at us!" With a look of fine disgust the Hollyhock retorted: "I know there are some of my kind who do ape those bold things —the American Beauties. They double their petals and dye them crimson to please people, but I won't! I will be single and white as long as I live. That is the way I was taught and that is the way I will stick to. What was right and proper when my mother lived is right and proper today, and I will not change my attitude of mind toward the world one whit. It is easy enough for those who have never seen the finer side of life to judge for one who has." '' Fudge!'' said the Cabbage, now thoroughly waking up at the slight put upon his friend. "What do beauty and admiration amount to, anyway? I'll wager my head, Mistress Hollyhock, that even your much esteemed Grandmother Farmer would a sight rather see me alongside of a good piece of meat on a tin plate than see you in one of those cherished china vases, if she were good and hungry. It's the solid things in life that count. Beauty and that kind of stuff do well enough for people who are in love, or have nothing to do, but the people who count for something, like Tom, who rids us of the pestering weeds—they want something they can eat." The Hollyhock opened her lips to speak again and then closed them. She remembered that she was in an age where elders and betters were not respected and that those with whom she was talking were not her equals. The young Radish began an impressive address about "Keeping Abreast of the Times," but the Drumheads began to snore, and the poor, injured, out-of-her- day Hollyhock looked up at the moon and sighed. The Radish ceased speaking and silence and beauty again reigned over the garden.
Object Description
Title | The Normal Record. April 1904 |
Original Date | 1904-04 |
Description | The Record. Published by the Associated Students of Chico State College. |
Creator | Chico State College |
Location of Original | Archives |
Call Number | LD723 C57 |
Digital Collection | The Record: Chico State Yearbook Collection |
Digital Repository | Meriam Library, California State University, Chico. |
Description-Abstract | The Record served as both a student magazine and a commencement program for Chico Normal School. In the year 1904 it was published every month - except the Summer months. |
Date Digital | 2013 |
Language | eng |
Rights | For information on the use of the images in this collection contact the Special Collections Department at 530.898-6342 or email: specialcollections@csuchico.edu |
Format | image/tiff |
Filename | index.cpd |
Description
Title | 1904_04_NormalRecord.010 |
Original Date | 1904-04 |
OCR- Transcript | THE NORMAL RECORD. world is getting worse every day. There isn't any place for plain, honest folks any more. Something showy and extravagant is what people want now.'' The voice was that of the hollyhock on the knoll. "Eh?" interrogated a fine-looking Drumhead, sleepily awakening from a dream, in which he had taken the first prize at a country fair. "What's that you're saying?" '' "What am I saying ? Look at me, growing on a piece of waste land, too poor for a low vegetable to grow in. Think how degraded I feel—I, who was once the petted favorite of that big, brown house on the hill where Grandmother Farmer lived when a girl. She always had a bunch of us in her tall vase on the mantel when Grandfather Parmer called to see her. On her wedding day she had the dining-room decorated with 'the white beauties,' as she called us. When Master John was a baby she used to pick our white bells and give them to him to play with, because she knew we would not hurt him. There's many a flower in that garden now that Master John's pretty wife would not give to her baby. Does anybody ever look at me now, unless it is little Willie, who put me here so he might catch bees in my white bells ? Where my ancestors used to grow are now ugly, heathenish palms and bold lilies." "Oh—ah—would you let me make a suggestion?" said a smart-looking young Radish. "I know Hollyhocks today who have educated and perfected themselves in such a way as to maintain their old station in life. For instance, the color and style of one's dress and a certain way of doing little things count a good deal sometimes. Keep up with the world and you'll never have cause to accuse the world of misusing you. Why, they say that my ancestors were once white, tasteless weeds, and now look at us!" With a look of fine disgust the Hollyhock retorted: "I know there are some of my kind who do ape those bold things —the American Beauties. They double their petals and dye them crimson to please people, but I won't! I will be single and white as long as I live. That is the way I was taught and that is the way I will stick to. What was right and proper when my mother lived is right and proper today, and I will not change my attitude of mind toward the world one whit. It is easy enough for those who have never seen the finer side of life to judge for one who has." '' Fudge!'' said the Cabbage, now thoroughly waking up at the slight put upon his friend. "What do beauty and admiration amount to, anyway? I'll wager my head, Mistress Hollyhock, that even your much esteemed Grandmother Farmer would a sight rather see me alongside of a good piece of meat on a tin plate than see you in one of those cherished china vases, if she were good and hungry. It's the solid things in life that count. Beauty and that kind of stuff do well enough for people who are in love, or have nothing to do, but the people who count for something, like Tom, who rids us of the pestering weeds—they want something they can eat." The Hollyhock opened her lips to speak again and then closed them. She remembered that she was in an age where elders and betters were not respected and that those with whom she was talking were not her equals. The young Radish began an impressive address about "Keeping Abreast of the Times," but the Drumheads began to snore, and the poor, injured, out-of-her- day Hollyhock looked up at the moon and sighed. The Radish ceased speaking and silence and beauty again reigned over the garden. |