Central Catholic High School - Echo Yearbook (Fort Wayne, IN)

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T 'T1i'Y 1' ' ' CENTRAL CATHOLIC my uncailled for delay. Won't you, Austin Dear? s ' ' ' This town is getting to be so lonesome with- out you that sometimes I think I shouldn't have consented to your going to college, when you asked meg but it shall all turn out for the better, won't it? There is not much doing in Boston and there won't be for a few months yet. There is no place to' go, and even if there were I shou1dn't think of going without you. Last Sunday night I sat in the palor as if expecting you to call, as was your custom, but I waited in vain. , As I have-an appointment with mother to go'shopping, I shall close, sending my -love. I am, Yours devotedly, GLADYS. e Austin read the letter over several times before putting it-back in the envelopeg and, after musing for several minutes, brushed up and went down to the dining room, where he found a large number of youths already seated. ' That evening Austin threw his Latin, geom- etry, and algebra books on the bed and started to answer the letter which he had received. He wrote on without halting till he was fin- ished, and several minutes later he sealed the letter which read as follows: Lancaster, Vt., - ' NOV. 15, 1915. Gladys Dearest: . Your perfectly loving letter was received this P. M., and Honey, I certainly was glad to hear from you. I surely do pardon your delay in answering, as I fully understand the occu- pation of a live girl in a'burg like Boston. You arelnot the only one that is lonesome for some one. I miss you more than I would three meals a day if I quit eating. Well, I certainly hope my going to college will turn out for the better, for I am sure laboring some. Gladys Dear, I certainly miss the good times I used to have with you, and I can't wait till I get out of this place for the holidays. When I get back to the old home town, I surely will celebrate with a big night at the Suburban Garden, and run the governor's new Cole 8 to Who Tied the Pups? Well, dear one, I shall have to turn to my books as I have much to do. I shall say good- bye. With much sorrow, and sending my love, t HIGH SCHOOL ECHO 19 I remain, Yours eternally, AUSTIN. With a sigh of satisfaction, instead of turn- ing to his books, Austin went to bedg or to use his expression, 'Shit the hay on all fours. Things passed along in the same routine at Saskatoon' College as they always had passed. The football honors were easily taken, the re- sult of the brilliant playing on the part of Austin and Art. The most exciting topic of conversation was Christmas holidays. The next day the boys were to leave for their re- spective homes. Austin was overjoyed, having passed the exams in everything. The afternoon of December 22 found Austin walking through the Union Station of Boston, satchel in hand, and a large smile on his fat face. Christmas day finally came. It was an ideal all around, cold air, with a Christmas, snow sharp north wind and a dull sky. Austin stayed at home for the Christmas dinner. In the ,evening he and Gladys went to a dinner party given by the Rotarians. 'The remainder of the holidays prior to New Year's Eve were uneventful. It was New Year's Eve, when Mr. Stults' chauffeur drove Austin up to Gladys' house. He rang the bell and Gladys' mother answered the door. Come on in, Austin, Gladys will be down in a minute, she said, and ,they both entered the parlor and Austin took a seat near the fireplace. - As Austin was a comparatively good conver- sationalist, the talk was very well kept up. One thing followed another, but the chief topic of conversation was Gladys. Mrs. Dexter put in her best licks: My, Gladys seems to be getting older every day. She does not seem to be the same girl and more. She takes 'everything so serious that we no longer think her to be a young girl but a young lady. Yes, chimed in Austin, I have noticed the change myself. I do think the change is admirable, too. I-Ier growing older has no ill effects on her good looks, she seems to be getting prettier every day. She is also very much more handy in the kitchen than she used to be, and she is learn- ing to cook very quickly. She seems to have some end in view, said Mrs. Dexter with a

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7-f i- -- 18 CENTRAL CATHOLIC HIGH SCHOOL ECHO NOBODY HOME By J. Wilkinson, '16, If there's one thing I do hate, it is college, said Austin Stults. Now listen, Stults, old chap, don't knock on the school. You are here to stay, so make the best of it. Don't mind it if you flunked in Latin and mathematics last month, said Ar- thur King, Austin's room-mate. , The first speaker was a' short, fat, and good natured boy of about eighteen years, with dark hair and still darker eyes. His one fault was laziness, and his lack of desire for study brought him much trouble from his teachers, and gave still more sorrow to his father. His room-mate was n every particular the oppo- site. He was tall, but very well proportionedg had light brown hair, blue eyes, and a light complexion. He was very ambitious, and study was his natural'trait. He was looked upon by all as the smartest in the school and his popu- larity was a source of envy to his fellow students. p --wen, Ari, 1 win eey ihei the eeiieei is o. K. if that pleases you, said Austin. That's the way to talk. Brace up, show 'em you got the right stuff in you. Did you hear the latest, Art? No, what is it? Why, the faculty gave 'Spud' Wheeler per- mission to keep that 'one lunger' of his in town. His father shipped it here, and 'Spud' has already gone to the freight house after it, and I expect him to return any minute. Bully for 'Spud'! was Art's only reply. now! exclaimed Austin, the driveway. And sure the massive 1908 model 'tThere he comes as he looked down enough, there was Auburn slowly approaching the dormitory. The machine was not an object of admiration, but all the same it belonged to the automobile family. When within fifty feet of the dormitory, the engine stopped dead. f'Spud crawled out with the crank in his hand and fitted it into the side .of the machine. After many vigorous turns of the crank, the car moved slowly on, amid great clouds of bluesmoke. Come on, Art! Let's go down and take a slant at the boat, and if it looks safe we will take a 'stroll' in it, was Austin's remark. Fm willing, said Art. 1 Hello, 'Spud,' how's tl1e boy? said Austin as he and Art reached the auto. First rate, thanks , - Let,s'take a spin, joined in Art. I Yes, we will run around a bit and stop at the post office. I expect to get a letter, said Austin was he climbed into the backseat beside Art. , But the one lunger would not budge, and they started to walk to the post office for the letter. I say, Austin, said the inquisitive Art, what's the idea of going to the post office after the letter? Why not let them deliver it. Are you short of cash? If you are I'll- No, no, Art, nothing like that, it won't be from the governor, I got his yesterday, but thanks a.ll the same? interrupted Austin. Well, whom is it from then? i It's from Gladys, . answered Austin blush- ingly. I can't wait till tomorrow for her letter. You know, Art, she means so much to me, and she is my sole consolation, and the only girl l ever really admired. 'LI sympathize with you, Austin, said Art. Thanks, old man. Want to see her picture? Sure thing, 1et's see it. Austin pulled out his Elgin and opened the back of the case and showed his sole consola- tion to his companion. Would you, judging from the picture, said Austin, think that she is nineteen years old, blonde, blue eyes, full of fun and merri- ment? 1 'tWell, that would be my description of her. I admire your taste. ' f'I compliment myself on that score. At last they came to the post office, but Ari dia noi ge in. In' e short time Austin came out, .his fat face graced with a good- natured grin, and it is needless to say he had the much coveted letter safely tucked away in his inside coat pocket. When they got back to their rooms the first thing Austin did was to fix the pillows, in the window seat comfortably and sit down to read. ll it it He tore open the envelope and r-ead: .Boston, Mass., I Nov. 13, 1915. My dearest Austin 1' I received your sweet letteriabout two days ago and I have been so busy that I didn't have time to answer it, and hope you will pardon

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---. rr-1-'g 1- -H-v vw-- 20 CENTRAL CATHOLIC HIGH SCHOOL ECHO kidding simleon her motherly face. She probably has, answered Austin, blush- ing slightly at the insinuation. Futh-er conversation was interrupted when Gladys' silvery voice was heard as she came down stairs singing, There'll be a Jubilee in My Old Kentucky Home. As she stopped sing- ing, she called out, Come on, Austin Dear, Itm ready. V As they left the house, Mrs. Dexter bade them both good night and added, Don't be out too late, Gladys. No fear, mother, Austin will take good care of me. Three-quarters of an hour later the young couple were walking up the steps of the Coun- try Club where they were to attend a dance. The evening was progressing rapidly and everyone was having the time of his life. The delightful rag-time music ut all in the highest of spirits. It was about 11:50 P. M. The orchestra was just coming to the close of the Pigeon Walk, and all were interested in a lively Fox Trot. The end of the dance found Austin and Gladys at the extreme end of the ball- room, both standing near a pillar. As Austin for the thirteenth time that evening turned that one central thought over in his mind, he iinally determined to ask Gladys to dance through life with him. Yes, he was going to propose on that very spotg yes, that very instant. But alas! his courage failed him. Gladys read his mind and fully understood his feelings, so she strove to help him out, by saying: My Austin, this floor is terribly slippery! it is almost impos- sible for one to stand alone, don't you think so? Yes, it is, he answered. Let's sit down. Gladys was mortiiied to death and mumbled, Nobody home. What's that, dear? he said quickly. -66011, nothing! I said I was sick and wished to be taken home. Certainly, I'll call the taxi. Gladys arrived once more at her home, and after a short good-night to Austin, hurried to her room. Once inside, she threw herself on the foot of her bed and sighed deeply. To think, she said, that I came so near going through life with such a numskull! CATHOLIC WRITERS 1 By Paul J. Foohey, '16, 11.-John Boyle otneniy. O Drogheda is a little seaport town of Ireland. It has had a most 'exciting history, being the scene of numerous battles betw-een Irish patriots and English oppressors. It is but a short distance from the site .of the famous Battle of the Boyne. Its memories and vicis- situdes have sunk deep in the hearts of the Irish people, and as the children. grow 'to manhood and learn the story of their grand- sires' struggles for freedom they are Hred with indignation. They must wield the pen- or sword in Ireland's cause. And so when the Fenian revolutionary spirit reached Drogheda, a young enthusiastic Irishman joined the ranks' of the Fenian Brotherhood. Today we honor this rebel Fenian as a great American poet. John Boyle O'Reilly was born June 24 at Douth Castle, Drogheda. At an early age he showed indications of his future greatness. His literary tastes were encouraged by his parents. His father, David O'Reilly, was prin- cipal of the National school which his son at- tended. After young O'Reilly's school days were over he became a printer on the staff of the Drogheda Argus. Later he became identified with the Guardian, It was here that he Hrst came to love newspaper work- the work to which he was destined to devote the last twenty years of his life. But a Fenian, even a literary one, was not relished by the English authorities in those days. X O'Reilly had preferred 'the Fenian Brotherhood to the 10th Hussars, and for such preference he was sentenced to twenty years penal servitude in Australia. ' During the days of his confinement he com- posed some of the most beautiful and touching poems. His temperament was poetic and re- ligious, and misfortune was necessary to in- spire him to greater work. His genius could not be restrained by lack of ink and paper. With a rusty nail he wrote his verses on the walls of his cell. . V In 1869, under the direction of the Clan-na- Gael, the captain of a whaling vessel from New Bedford, Mass., rescued O'Reilly and brought him to our shores, ,adding another light to our literary altar. He settled in Bos- ton, and became editor of the Pilot in 1870. L 4 . ., A .