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

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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.

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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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16 THE LOYOLA ANNUAL The contrivance let me down a story and then refused to go any farther. The flames were so pleased with my visit that they came out to meet me and some of them in their joy even licked my hands and face as well as the chain on what I depended. Aware of the fact that I could be arrested as a tramp for having no visible means of support, I determined to inform the firemen below that I contemplated making a descent. So. taking out my notebook, I dropped them a few lines (perhaps it struck some of them funny) to the following effect: Airy Castle, Hot Springs. Associate Firemen. Dear Sirs — Will you kindly turn the hose on me at your earliest convenience? I’ll try to keep cool till help arrives. Also, if not otherwise engaged, stretch a blanked beneath me to prevent injury to the cement walk. I won’t keep you wait- ing lon g when I once get started. Yours truly, Jacob Fricassee. Either the firemen did not receive my correspondence or (what is more probable) they were busily engaged in saving something valuable; at any rate, when I hit the pavement, three stories below, there was no blanket there to receive me and even now, as I lie in the morgue, I am greatly disturbed as to the outcome of the damage suit brought against me for destruction of property. Unfortunately my visiting cards were damaged by smoke and fire beyond recognition and I am still awaiting identifi- cation. Anthony C. Rolfes, ’13.