Loyola University Maryland - Evergreen / Green and Gray Yearbook (Baltimore, MD)

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14 THE LOYOLA ANNUAL joyful anthems filled the air with melody, and I noticed they bent low in adoration, when they drew near the little shed before which I stood. I pushed open the door and entered. It was a stable, cold and bare, but Jesus was there and Mary and Joseph. The Infant appeared to shiver, and falling on my knees, I pulled off my coat and cried, “ Holy Child, let me take you to my home; there You will find warmth and comforts.’ ' He smiled and answered, ‘‘ Because you ask it. My brother, I will go with you.” As I wrapped Him in my coat, invisible hands bore us from the place and I saw the tips of the angels’ wings disappearing over the hills. They were heralding the approach of the great Guest. In a crib, erected in His honor, the Divine Infant chose to rest. The house was thronged with old and young, rich and poor, who had heard of His com- ing, and now pressed forward to do homage to their King. Every face beamed with happiness and every heart was glad, as one by one they placed their offerings at His feet. Then the gifts resolved themselves into good thoughts and good works; but I had given nothing and I shrank back, abashed. When, behold, above the head of the Infant, in glittering let- ters, appeared the words, Offer to the Christ-child your sac- rifice.” And the Christ-child accepted my sacrifice and asked, “ What favor do you crave of Me?” Before I could reply, a voice which seemed to come from a distance said, “ Wake up, my son, it is time to dress for school.” I sat up and gazed around me. My beautiful vision had vanished, and I realized it v as a dream, — but I wished that my dream were true. Jas. F. Russell, Jr., ’12.

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THE LOYOLA ANNUAL 13 (A Christmas Story.) IVyT ERRY Christmas” rang out clear and strong above jingling bells and tooting horns. It was the eve of the great day. I was revelling in blissful anticipation of the good things to come, when mother bent over me and asked, “ Do you not think it is dreadful to be cold and hungry?” • Oh, yes,” I answered. “ There are many boys and girls,” ' she continued, “ who live in miserable garrets or dark cellars, and no ray of Christmas cheer ever brightens their dull lives. Will you not forego tomorrow’s presents that the money may be used in making these poor creatures happy?” Visions of silver-mounted rifles and prancing steeds danced before my eyes and seemed to urge me to refuse. But while I pondered in uncertainty I heard a gentle voice whisper, “ Will you not make the sacrifice for Me? Tomorrow is My birthday.” I turned to mother and said, “ I will give up my presents.” It was evening and an irresistible impulse drew me to the sidewalk. As I lifted my eyes to the heavens, a luminous star appeared and seemed to move toward the earth. At the same time I felt myself lifted from the ground and carried rap- idly through the air in the track of the star. The earth was contracted to an atom, and the sublime and enchanting region through which I passed was lighted with millions of crystal lamps, that burned brightly in the deep blue vault. I seemed to be in the world of spirits and to live and breathe with them. At last my luminous guide stopped and I was hurried through endless space, back to earth. Now I was in a little village that nestled among the hills, and angels were everywhere. Their

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THE LOYOLA ANNUAL 15 Muzt Atuag I (A Fire Story.) HE church chimes announced the hour of midnight. Fire! Fire!! The cry rang very loudly from the street beneath my open window. Starting to a sitting posture I discovered that I was suffocating with the fumes arising from burning goose feathers and hair. I was dazed for a moment and having recovered my cour- age somewhat as well as my breath, I took a glance about me. The sight of my meerschaum told the story. I had gone to bed with a lighted pipe, which had permitted its fire to form the acquaintance of other inflammable material in the vicinity, and had already promulgated several very pretty specimens of flame-work up and down the southeast bed post. Perhaps there are some who will not believe me when I say that, although I was up four stories, I was not cool. The fire continued forming acquaintances until I was left to withstand her charms. I went to the window and borrowed a lungful of air from outdoors, and came back to hunt some hose to extinguish the fire. The only thing resembling it was a stocking and, realizing that this would prove unavail- ing, I resolved to take my chances (slim as they might be) on the fire escape. The fire escape was an automatic affair — something between an air ship and a subway train — with a chain to which was attached a weight so that a person could let himself down or vice versa, at least, all who ever used it were vice versa when they landed.