Prophecy

Miami Beach, June 6, 1923.

Dearest Lilyan:

I am now convalescing and much to Bill's chagrin, I still wish to try my luck once more in maintaining the world's record for a time-flight around this old globe of ours. You, of course, have read the accounts of my attempts and failures, but Lilyan, there is one story that I shall tell to you alone.

I had been flying some twelve hours when suddenly night closed about me - the blackest I have ever seen - and in spite of my every effort, I felt consciousness slipping from me. In my subconscious mind there seeped the sensation of downward movement and even as I sensed this, a jolt sent me reeling into oblivion.

How long I remained in this state of mind, I do not know, but when I opened my eyes, I was blinded bv penetrating light. As I became accustomed to this unnatural phenomenon, I saw- As I gazed into this crystal, before me unrolled a spectrum of human destinies.

And who do I behold first but you, Lilyan, a leader as always. You are sitting at your desk, writing "Finis" to your latest book. You are quite famous, and youth finds your frank, unmodified works much more interesting than the current fiction of the day.

Carrie Smith, now queen of cinema land, has supporting her in her latest picture, Martha Moseiy, Jessie Thorpe, Margaret Womack, Floy Brewer, Emily Smithwick, Viola Scott, Carrie Mae Ward, and Ella Smith. Virginia Perkins, star at E. C. T. C, is now John Barrymore's leading lady.

And next, the scene shifts from sunny California to our own Capital City. Here Mary Ward, Myrtle Mason and Margaret Faison hold most enviable positions in the Library of Congress. Also behind a heavily carved, pure mahogany desk, with a male secretary on her right and a reporter on her left, I see Lucile Sermons, dictating to the world, her version of the Kellogg Peace Treaty.

I see now a young day, hastening to catch a train. Reporters and photographers besiege her on all sides. It is none other than Julia Minor Wood, who is on her way to Reno to get her second divorce.

Next, I see that Bonner Swindell and Odessa Hillard are the heads of a most Exclusive School for Young Ladies. Alice Foley and Clara Mallard are joint occupants of the chair of Mathematics and Science.

As much talked of, and as popular as Lindbergh, is Evelyn Ewell. She is becoming quite famous for her modernistic interpretative dancing, and everyone, the world over, is acquiring the E. E. Method oi posing. Frequent visitors of hers are Vallie Sumrell, dean of Hillmont College, and Clyde Stokes, her assistant.

A fog descends; as it disperses, 1 see a ship steaming through the waves. On it is Annie Laurie Herring, chief dietitian; Louise Atkinson, ship hostess; and Sarah Hinson, now a doctor, who is on her way to the Aegean Islands to discover some hitherto lost aspect of past civilization.

In the Sacred Heart Hospital, in New Orleans, Mary White, quite charming in her white uniform, is head nurse and Rebecca Alexander and Catherine Hill are the welfare officers for the country.

The setting changes tn far France. Here ini the Sorbonne is Annie Shields Van Dyke. She is planning a career as interpreter for the French Ambassador from LI. S. In the same city, Wilma Cox is studying conditions - economic and social - so as to gain an accurate background for her next history textbook.

In a thriving, progressive town, I glance into a photographer's studio. Gertrude Stryon and Julia Lancaster are the proprietors, with Julia as head photographer.

My vision next shows a girl being escorted to a platform. Here she is presented with a solid gold loving cup, on which is engraved these words: "Tennis Champion of 1932." The girl is none other than our own Mary Frances Jenkins.

I see next two heads with, I suppose, one single thought. They belong to Clara Lee Spruill and Claire Jones. Together they are revising our old time geometry book so that in ten simple lessons the necessary knowledge may be acquired without study or preparation.

Along with these two aspiring geniuses is another in a different field - Irene Kahn. She is instrumental in elevating "Dorothy Dixism" to a gem of literary note. Her latest contribution is "The Heart Divine."

And then the last picture merges into being. The world is apprehensively sitting by, watching the progress of Sara Ogletree and Mary Ward as they train for the future Olympic games. Their trainers are sure of an easy, full-fledged American victory.

As the last scene faded from view, I seemed to feel myself crumple and faint. When I regained consciousness, I was on an America-bound steamer, and I remember nothing of my accident. I had a bad case of nerves for weeks after, but now I am feeling much better. Please write me again soon and tell me of your new book. Love,

Elizabeth.