Prophet Paints Brilliant Future

Title

Prophet Paints Brilliant Future

Accession Number

2026.36.53.5

Accession Date

29 September 2026

Accession Creator

Sophie Pendergraft

Depositor

Agnes Dobson Bruce

Storage Location

Box 80, Folder 5

Text

PROPHET PAINTS BRILLIANT FUTURE

As I dipped into the ether in my favorite plane, “The Spirit of Greer High,” I had the intuition that perhaps I might find some of my old classmates up in the air, as usual. I landed my plane on a field at Hartford, Connecticut, beside a large plane which bore the insignia of the United States and the large letters, “Air Mail.” I could hardly see the pilot, so low was he in the plane. I tiptoed and looked in the machine to find Broadus Berry, who now flew the government plane between Hartford and New Orleans. As I was sight-seeing, I saw Randolph Loftis, that - Heartbreaker, who had been elected the chief executive of Connecticut by the fair sex. “Rudolph” wanted to tell me about his latest “crush”; but as I was soon due in New York, I could not tarry.

I reached the landing field in New York just in time to wave farewell to Lindy and Nina, who were off on a world hop. My greatest curiosity has always been concerned with the wonders of New York, and, as I started out to see them, my attention was first attracted as I passed the Globe Theater. Here I saw a large electric sign flashing this announcement: “Today See the Champion Elizabeth, America’s Famous Comedienne.” The comedy was fine; but I noticed that old Champ was only a shadow of her former self (thanks to Turkish baths). I stopped at the Ritz for lunch, and, as I sat down, I noticed a blonde seated across from me. She seemed to be studying a calorie card, and lo! When the waiter received her order, I heard her chime out, “Yes, I want to reduce, for I must meet Ziegfeld’s requirements–you know–I’m to be a dancer.” This was followed by a little giggle that I would have known in oblivion. I went to speak to her and, of course, it was Ellen. She jabbered along as usual, and after lunch agreed to direct me to Times Square. Just as we reached the Times building, a little boy yelled, “Extry!” and I quickly bought a copy. Ellen asked me to glance at the staff, and so I did. Heading the staff was editor H. B. Hendricks, and on down I noticed that Mary Few was manager of the peace editorials. Soon after Ellen left, I went to the American Book Company, where I saw some books in the process of making. The guide told me that the best sellers were “Humor Out of a Clear Sky,” by Tillie the Toiler, and “Poultry Diseases,” by Frank Kendrick. As time passed quickly, I decided to dine in Greenwich Village. There, as I strolled toward the Black Cat Shop, a long, lankly, lean man approached me and showed me his latest novels, “Personal Opinions,” “Teachers’ Helps,” and “Literature Debunked.” I readily brought these books, as I knew that Miller Simpson could handle these subjects well, and then,too, I remembered how much he had helped his teachers in high school, especially Mrs. Klutts. I returned to the Empire Theatre just in time to see Marion Few play the role of Macbeth. This actor was equally as magnetic as Robert Mantell. The excellent training of the actor was due to the interest of his guardian angel, Mr. Hastings Hunt. As I was leaving the show, I brushed a handsomely-clad lady, and, as I turned to beg her pardon, I beheld Virginia Gilreath, who informed me that she was a fashion model at B. Altman’s. After a gay time in New York, I “hopped off” for the capital city. There I got in a blue line bus, driven by Edmund Wroe, and the efficient guide who pointed out the various places of interest was J. T. Crain. These two old friends had chosen this particular work because of the lasting impression they gained of Washington on their Senior trip in 1928. We stopped by the capitol, where I had an interview with the President, Paul Brannon, whose campaign had been managed by whom? Oh, Mary Henderson, who was now using her influence with the President to have the Free Cosmetic Bill passed. Well, Mary would! The next stop was at the Congressional Library. Here I was not surprised to find Elizabeth Stone one of the efficient librarians; indeed, a veritable walking encyclopedia. Well, “Lizbeth” always was studious in high school. On the return trip, I visited the Walter Reed Hospital, where I found Conway Bramlett, the former government taster, who had tasted once too often. I extended my sympathy, but he was the picture of satisfaction as he explained that he had won his suit against the government for damages received while in its employ. He added that he was now tasting for his own benefit.

In a few hours I arrived in Chicago to attend the Maness prize-fight, where Gladys Maness was to defend her title as the world’s heavyweight champion. I noticed that Brockman’s staticless radios were being used to broadcast the results. During the excitement someone threw a package of gum at my “ivory dome,” and as I glanced up, I was startled to find that Pete Dobson giving away Wrigley’s gum. (She could well afford to, as she was getting her supply free.) She was now the main factor in Mr. Wrigley’s advertisement agency because of her recognized ability to chew well. Near the ropes, was my old friend, “Jule” Bailey, who had just lost a million on the fight. However, he was not afraid to go home, because he was a lucky bachelor who always “returned at will.”

Early the next morning, I hopped off to locate the milky way in Minneapolis. There I met Louise Bettis, who was now the wife of the Milky Way owner. She insisted that I take some chocolate and vanilla bars for my lunch. After this delightful lunch, I made a quick trip to Charlotte, and rushed into Efird’s to buy a nifty tie before I went to my home state. Due to the alert package wrapper, Lois Brown, I was soon ready to depart for dear old South Carolina. My first stop was on the new landing field at Tucapau, where strains of music and the patter of feet were heard. In answer to my inquiry, a stranger told me that Eva Gosnell was the dancing teacher, and one who secured rating for all her friends (former French teachers included). Soon I was off again, but I had not flown very far when I heard such a clatter and clash below my plane that I stopped to see what the disturbance was. I found myself in the thriving city of Duncan, and was relieved to find that Annie Vaughn was just arranging the pots and pans in McLellan’s new hardware department.

It would have been impossible to have been so near “The Peach Center” without stopping. Near the landing field I noticed a large store with a sign over it which read: “Punctureless Tires for Sale by Elizabeth Tapp.” Elizabeth has been employed by the French department of the high school to sell these tires so that children in the suburbs could attend school on time. As I ambled on through the business section I stopped at Hammett’s grocery to buy a package of gum. As usual, the grocer was reading the last chapter of “Henry Esmond,” the state required parallel. Next to the grocery was Carlson’s Clothing Store, now a prosperous establishment, with a new clerk, Ovie Mae Murphy. On I went to visit my dear old Alma Mater. There I found two of my former classmates, who were teaching. Margaret Allison, a teacher of Ansel Ross’ “Easy Methods of Learning Senior English,” and Elizabeth Mayfield’s book, “Words Commonly Misspelled in District Contests”; and Ellie Few, Miss White’s successor, who was reading the English version of “L’Abbe Constantin.” Just as school closed that afternoon, two busses–one from Pleasant Grove, the other from Pelham–drove up. These busses were driven by Alberta Waters and Mamie Terrell. I strolled on toward Westmoreland Heights, where the housewife, Leola Hickory, was feeding her chicks, and all of them were cackling for Purina Chow. On a vacant lot next to her home was a large tent, which resembled a chautauqua tent, into which I drifted, but far was it from being a chautauqua; a magnetic speaker, Mildred Miller, was explaining the Scriptures. I met ole “Ren” Smith, who was, as usual, trying to bum a ride to Chick Springs, so I suggested that he ride in the plane with me, and he readily agreed. In the course of conversation, he inferred that he would succeed Dr. Steedly as surgeon at the sanatorium. At Chick’s, everyone was enjoying a square dance, due to the fact that the calling done by Mildred DeYoung was loud and distinct. It was generally understood that the good calling was the result of intensive coaching by Mabel Waldrop, who was Mildred’s “right-hand woman.” One of the dancers on the floor was Kate Burnette, who seemed to be elated until the music stopped; then she held her hands taut and in a pleading manner cried, “On, on, on.”

From here I flew to Greenville, where I alighted and entered the Carolina. “Chubby” Mayfield was directing the Carolina Night Hawks. The director called for favorite selections, and immediately I hollered out, “Come on, Ye Ole Greer High.” He stared at me in a cognizant way, leaped down from the stage, and led me to the front, where he demanded that I sing it while the orchestra played. Needless to say, the audience soon dwindled away; then Chubby and I walked toward the Ottoray and sat on the porch. We were at once attracted by a smoking creature seated near us. She had a large box of tobacco and cigars. We went over and she immediately started on a first-class sales talk which ended with our buying all of the tobacco and half of the cigars. Evelyn Jones explained that she was employed by the Gapen Cigar Store to get all of the trade at the Ottoray.

On the next morning I was bound for Illinois. In a few moments I arrived in Oconomowoc, Wisconsin, where I visited the Carnation Milk Company, managed by William Vaughn, the “ardent admirer of contented cows.” Bill told me that two pedestrians, Clara Rollins and Iris Clark, had visited the plant with the view to recommending the most sanitary milk to careful mothers. I understood that Clara and Iris had acquired their art of hiking by hiking to school. Due to Bill’s complimentary airs, the ladies were favorably impressed.

No tour could be complete without a visit to Reno, so there I went to hear Arizona DeYoung lecture on “Advice to the Unmarried.” Her key sentence was, “Don’t make your selection until you are thirty; and if you wait until you are thirty-five, you will know better than to make it at all.” Immediately, Evelyth Glenn, a disappointed lover, arose and said: “No, it’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.”

I felt that I must stop in Texas to see Bill Brown, the owner of several oil wells in the new town in which G. H. Scruggs was mayor.

From Texas I went to sunny California, where Fred Smith, the plant wizard, had his botanical experiment station. Off the coast of California, Clarence Brookshire was diving for sponges. On this tour, I felt that I must stop in Los Angeles to see Nezzie McElreth and Pawnie Arms playing in the best comedy of the season. In the same city, Myrtle Jones, Nelle Smith, and Janie Black were singing in chautauqua and meeting with great success.

Since I had the roaming fever, I left the Golden State and arrived in Armenia in forty-five minutes. Here I found Carolyn Arnold in charge of a Near East Relief home filled with little children. Hugh Crain was the business manager of this home.

On, on, on, I went, until I reached Paris just in time to visit the beauty shop in Hotel Crillon. The beauty specialist here was Lula Mae Meares, a recognized authority on beauty culture. After getting a marcelle wave, I attended an opera in which Pug Miller was the chief toe dancer, and “Slats” Glenn, the disappointed heroine. Paris furnished excitement, yet I longed to see Monte Carlo because I remembered seeing it on some picture post cards in my French course under Professor White.

At MonteCarlo, I noticed a large casino with large electric signs over it. Upon inquiring what it was, I found it to be a Russian Gambling casino with Chester Henderson as proprietor and Eugene Bettis as croupier.

This long and enjoyable flight seemed very short indeed, and although I would like to have extended my tour to other lands, I was compelled to return to dear old America because of stringent business duties; consequently, I headed my plane toward the west and, as fate would have it, I found myself in the midst of great difficulties. The plane was soon beyond my control and straightway started into a nose dive. We didn’t stop until we reached the bottom of the briny deep–where all poor fish belong. Such is life!

Signed:
Margie Crisp